Cruel Enchantment

by Bast, Anya

  “Hey, hold on a minute,” he said, going to her. “I have a feeling you’re skipping a few things.” He drew her against him and held her for a moment. “What the hell happened to you?”

  She melted into him and sagged against him bonelessly, her arms coming around his waist. “I don’t even know where to start.” She sounded exhausted.

  He drew the crossbow and quiver off of her, then her pack. “Tell me everything.”

  She started from the time she left Piefferburg. As she spoke, he drew her into the bathroom, taking care to place the precious pack on a nearby table, and carefully stripped her clothing off. While he ran a bath for her, he cleaned up the cuts on her face and arms, then herded her into the warm water. As he did all this, she told him about David, Calum, and the strange fae who had the same magick she did. While she sat in the water and he washed her back and hair, she told him about Gideon’s suspicion and then about Will.

  The Will o’ the Wisp. She’d fought him, killed the bastard.

  All on her own.

  After she’d finished he was silent for a while, content to have her safe in his apartment and pissed as hell she’d been in danger in the first place. Rage and relief, all at the same time.

  He dropped the washcloth in the water and, swearing low, rose and turned away, his fists tight.

  “Aeric?”

  “I want to kill Gideon for what he did.”

  “You’re not the only one.”

  “I feel so fucking helpless trapped in here.” He leaned against the counter, emotions pulling him all over the place. He was coming to care very deeply about Emmaline and the thought that she’d been in danger and he hadn’t been there to protect her made the caveman part of himself insane. He knew she was totally capable of taking care of herself. That had been shown amply by recent events, but he was a man and he’d claimed her as his—and a man protected what was his, no matter if she needed it or not.

  She touched his shoulder. “Hey.”

  He turned and pulled her against him, uncaring that she was wet from the bath, and buried his nose in the place where her neck met her shoulder, breathing in the scent of her skin.

  Her arms came around him. “I’m okay, Aeric.”

  “Yeah, I know.” He didn’t let go.

  He slid his hand to the nape of her neck, angling her face up to his, and kissed her softly, aware of the cut on her lip where Will had hit her. He kissed the corner of her mouth on the side that wasn’t hurt, her chin, her throat.

  Her body went taut against him, her breathing becoming heavier. His, too.

  “Do you want this right now?” he murmured against her throat.

  She nodded and swallowed hard. “Make me feel something other than scared.”

  “And I need to feel you, Emmaline. Warm, breathing.” He paused. “Mine.”

  She went very still and tense. After a moment, she looked at him. “Where is this going, Aeric?”

  He studied her, his throat going tight. “Going? I’m already gone. I love you, Emmaline.” He dipped his head and kissed her again very gently, then proceeded to try to kiss every remaining water droplet from her skin, starting at her throat and working his way down.

  By the time he’d trailed his tongue to the junction of her legs, neither of them were capable of speech.

  He pulled her forward by her hips and slid his tongue between her thighs, licking up stray droplets of water and finding her clit already blooming with need. It made his body tight with desire. She’d only been away from him for a couple weeks, but every day had felt like twenty. He lowered her to the plush carpet of the bathroom and gave it the much more thorough attention it was begging for.

  She shuddered and came, moaning his name in that way that heated his blood. He moved up her body and she pulled his shirt over his head, then her fingers went to the button and zipper of his jeans as if she couldn’t wait.

  He covered her hand with his. “We have lots of time. Let’s take this slow.”

  “Slow sounds good to me.”

  Once he was as bare as she was, he gently brushed his lips across her hurts and limned the bottom of her mouth with his tongue. Then he dipped down and gave the same attention to each of her nipples in turn, until they were hard and red, like little cherries.

  Skating his hand down the gentle curve of her spine to her rear and then to the tender back of her knee, he lifted her and fit her against his groin. She positioned herself against him, the heat of her sex warming him as she moved to push him within.

  Sliding deep inside her was like coming home. Her breath hissed out and he emitted a low groan of pleasure. He stayed like that, not moving, just looking down at her for a moment. Her lips were slightly parted, her eyes glazed with desire, her pain forgotten for the moment. She was beautiful.

  Holding her gaze, he moved inside her with long, slow strokes. Their bare bodies brushed together like silk and her breath came faster, the look on her face more passionate with every passing moment. He loved watching her approach orgasm, how her body and face showed her heightening pleasure—he loved it even more when she came apart beneath him.

  Knowing how she best liked him to move, he increased the pace and strength of his thrusts, turning long and slow to long and hard. Gentle to forceful and possessive. She moved her hips in time to his thrusts, until they achieved a perfect rhythm.

  Her breathing caught and her muscles tensed in that way that was becoming familiar to him. Letting out a sigh and a long moan, her back arched as she came. The muscles of her sex spasmed around his length and she cried his name.

  Pleasure rippled and pulsed in his balls, then exploded upward, engulfing him. He let out a low groan ending with her name as he released inside her. He collapsed on top of her and then rolled to the side, taking her with him and kissing her all over.

  After they’d caught their breath, she rested her head on his chest and said, “God, that’s one thing that’s never going to get old with you.”

  “What do you mean?” Goibhniu, he hoped it meant what he thought it meant. “Does that mean you’re staying with me? Here in Piefferburg?”

  She raised her head. “Yes, and it’s not because Gideon won’t let me back out. I’d decided to stay here before that happened.” She paused. “I want to be with you, Aeric. Stay here with you.”

  In the mess of the story she’d told him about what had happened with Brother Gideon, it hadn’t occurred to him that she was now trapped in Piefferburg as a recognized fae. He leaned forward and kissed the uninjured part of her mouth. “I love you, Emmaline.”

  She held his gaze for a pregnant moment. “I love you, too, Aeric. I always have.”

  He set his forehead against hers and let out a long, slow breath of relief. She was staying.

  “Are you okay?” she asked.

  He stood and then scooped her into his arms, making her squeal. That was one of the advantages of having the build of a blacksmith. “I’m okay now. More than okay.”

  She laughed and then hit him. “Don’t make me laugh. It hurts.”

  He carried her out of the bathroom and put her in his bed—a place he intended to keep her for a very long time to come. He came down over her body and kissed her while he eased his hand between her thighs. “Don’t worry, hurt isn’t what I plan to make you feel. Not ever, if I can help it.”

  She sighed and relaxed into the pillows. “I can never get enough of your hands on me.”

  “That’s, good, because touching you is something I want to make a hobby.” He lowered his head and gave some special attention to one nipple, then the other.

  Soon they were making love again, this time softer and slower, while he murmured words of love to her, ones he’d thought he would never say to another woman again.

  Afterward, sated and relaxed, they lay in an easy silence, their legs tangled together and with as much skin touching as possible. “Do you want to see it?” she asked.

  It took him a moment to remember the piece. He’d been more c
oncerned with her when she’d walked through the door.

  Before he had a chance to answer, she’d slid from the bed and retrieved her backpack. Digging into the bottom, she popped a secret compartment and drew it forth. “I had it in my pocket when Will rushed me. After I got through that I thought it might be safer away from my attack-prone body for the rest of the walk into the city, so I put it in my pack.”

  He took it from her and examined it. It was small, curved on one side and jagged on the other. It fit, of course, the other piece that the Summer Queen had in her possession. One more piece and it would be whole. Then it would unlock the back of the Book of Bindings and the magick contained within those pages could be used to break the warding around Piefferburg. Copper colored and unassuming, it was something that could easily be lost in a pile of junk or at a thrift store.

  The first piece had been locked in a government vault, freed by Ronan Quinn at the request of the Phaendir . . . and then stolen from them. The second piece had been buried at the bottom of the sea and protected with strong magick by an unknown party. There was no telling where the third piece was or if they’d ever locate it. One thing was certain—it was not within Piefferburg.

  “We should bring it to the queen as soon as possible,” she said. “There’s no telling what Gideon might try now since his first plan failed.”

  Aeric grunted in acquiescence. “We’re only missing one piece.” He looked up at her. “The Phaendir will act soon. We’re getting too close for them to remain passive.”

  She nodded. “But they’ll do it covertly. No matter how they may believe they’ve got the fae under their thumbs, they fear us. They won’t come pounding into Piefferburg with Phaendir foot soldiers. They’ll do something like what Brother Gideon might do: use fae turncoats within Piefferburg to sabotage us from the inside.”

  Aeric gave the piece back to her. “The Phaendir might use the human military. Send in troops to get the pieces and the book back, along with Phaendir to bolster them with magick.”

  “Maybe. It wouldn’t be pretty. It’d be bloody, in fact.” She chewed her lip. “For them.”

  He studied her. “So, you’re trapped in Piefferburg now.”

  She looked up at him, her eyes suddenly wet. She reached out and cupped his cheek. “I’m not trapped in Piefferburg. I’m in love and happy to be here.”

  He met her halfway, lips meshing. The piece fell to the bed between them.

  BROTHER Gideon pushed open Brother Maddoc’s office door with a thump and walked in as though it was already his. In about five minutes, it would be. “Archdirector Maddoc, I’m afraid you’ve got quite a bit of explaining to do.” Seven brothers followed him within. Two were Gideon’s men. The rest were Phaendir that had always followed Maddoc.

  No longer.

  Maddoc looked up with a surprised expression on his face that quickly turned to anger. He rose. “Brother Gideon, why are you here? I haven’t summoned you. Leave my office immediately.”

  “Oh, I don’t think so.” Gideon took the upper arm of a thin, pale-haired brother named Aloysius. “Brother Aloysius has revealed some very interesting information.”

  Maddoc’s face clouded with rage. “What information? What are you saying? Kindly leave and let me—”

  Gideon gave Aloysius a helpful push forward.

  “They know,” said Aloysius in a small voice, his hands fisted at his groin. He cast a quick, frightened glance at the other brothers in the office. “I just couldn’t keep it to myself anymore. The guilt was too great.”

  “What guilt?” sputtered Maddoc. He scanned the thronged room. It was becoming more crowded with every raised syllable that emanated into the corridor. “I have never seen this brother in my life. I have no idea what he’s talking about!”

  “Murder,” said Gideon. “That’s what he’s talking about. The murders of Brothers Cederick, Rhys, and Baeddan. Not to mention the attempt on my life.”

  “Murder!” Maddoc gave a strangled laugh. “That’s insane.”

  “Aloysius helped you commit the heinous murders of three of our dear brothers and aided in your attempted murder of me. He couldn’t take the guilt and has confessed to Labrai.”

  Maddoc’s face went taut and ashen.

  Aloysius fell to his knees, keening. “I can stand it no longer. The blood has stained my hands. Labrai, I pray for your mercy. I helped Brother Maddoc in his misguided attempt to cull your flock. I have seen the error of my ways. Please forgive me.”

  “This is ridiculous!” Maddoc bellowed. “I would have no reason to kill Brothers Cederick, Rhys, and Baeddan!” Gideon noticed Maddoc left out his name. Huh. Maddoc pointed a finger at Gideon. “Him! He had a motive! Not me. Don’t you see? He’s setting me up!”

  Gideon laughed. “Why would I do that?”

  “Because you want to be Archdirector!” Maddoc gave a half-crazed laugh. “Everyone knows that!”

  “My attempts to move up in the power structure are no secret, Brother Maddoc, but I obey Labrai in all things. I would never go against him.” And he wasn’t. Labrai sanctioned every move he made.

  Brother Hugh, one of the oldest and most respected of the Phaendir, stepped forward. “And perhaps it’s time that Brother Gideon did take your place as Archdirector.”

  Maddoc went perfectly still. Gideon gazed smugly at the sheen of absolute terror in his eyes. “What are you saying, Brother Hugh?”

  Brother Hugh bowed his bald head and cupped his hands in front of him. “The council has conferred and is in agreement. You have failed, Brother Maddoc. The fae now have the Book of Bindings and two pieces of the bosca fadbh. Even without the very compelling murder allegations brought forth by Brother Aloysius, those facts remain. We have entered a critical time in our relations with the fae. At no other period in the history of Piefferburg have things been so dire. This happened under your watch, Brother Maddoc. I’m afraid we can no longer take the tack of mercy with the fae. It may be time for a stronger hand.”

  “No,” sputtered Maddoc. “You cannot mean to turn the reins of the Phaendir over to—to this monster!”

  “That is enough,” said Brother Hugh. “I have spoken for the council. Our decision is final.”

  Maddoc just stood there, pale and staring. It was over and he knew it. He’d been outplayed.

  “Aloysius?” Gideon prodded softly. “Didn’t you have something you wanted to show the others?” He didn’t need this last touch, but he’d gone to all the trouble of setting it up.

  “Wait!” Aloysius piped up in his screeching voice. Maddoc flinched. “I have proof of Maddoc’s attempted murder of Brother Gideon!”

  Maddoc didn’t even move a muscle as Aloysius walked over to a filing cabinet and opened the bottom door. He pulled out a box of rat poison. Then he opened the top of the box and showed it to Brother Hugh. “He had me cube it. See?”

  The Phaendir in the room gave a collective gasp.

  Maddoc dropped like a stone back into his chair.

  Gideon smiled. That chair was now his.

  TWENTY-FIVE

  HER Majesty Aislinn Christiana Guinevere Finvarra, formerly of the Seelie Court and now Shadow Queen of the Black Tower, took three people with her when she went to deliver the second piece of the bosca fadbh to the Summer Queen: her husband and king of the Black Tower, Gabriel Cionaodh Marcus Mac Braire; the man who’d made the key that had unlocked the magicked box at the bottom of the sea, Aeric Killian Riordan O’Malley; and the woman who had sacrificed so much to retrieve that piece and bring it into the city, Emmaline Siobhan Keara Gallagher.

  The four of them traveled across the square in full formal dress, accompanied by thirteen of the silver-and-black-bedecked Unseelie Shadow Guard.

  Aislinn had dressed in a heavy, layered gown of red velvet and black silk with a heavy train that required four of her lady’s maids to carry it. The décolletage plunged so far that Gabriel had tripped over his tongue when complimenting her. The sleeves were piped with thread of silver. She’d
chosen her jewels carefully, rubies and diamonds to show off the wealth of the Unseelie. This was the game the royals played and the one she’d signed up for when she killed her biological father—after he’d tried to steal her soul—and gained the Shadow Throne by right of blood.

  Her boots were the subtly kick-ass kind she favored, steel toed and laced up the front in a Victorian fashion. Not that, as queen, she got to kick very much ass on her own. She was expected to use her Shadow Guard for that, and, frequently, she did. Her captain walked beside her, the precious piece resting on a red and black satin pillow.

  Her husband and Aeric both were dressed in head-to-toe suits of expensive black material, one man as dark as midnight and the other man like the sun.

  She’d sent her servants to Emmaline with several dress choices and the Seelie fae had chosen the gray silk. It was an elegant gown, the flow of the garment accentuating the willowy build of her body and the color seeming to make her eyes an even deeper brown. Her hair was long, left natural—as opposed to the practiced upsweep Aislinn was required to wear—curling darkly over her narrow shoulders.

  Aeric hadn’t been able to take his eyes off her.

  During the last year she’d come to know Aeric very well. She knew his history, knew about Aileen, the assassin, and how he felt about both of them. It was hard to believe he’d gone from hating the wraith who’d existed in his mind for so many years to appreciating and respecting the complex flesh-and-blood woman she actually was.

  Aeric was deeply in love.

  And Aislinn knew love when she saw it. Emmaline loved him back.

  The fae in Piefferburg Square all paused and stilled to watch as they glimpsed the procession, whispered among themselves about the piece and about Emmaline, whose story had already begun to spread all over Piefferburg.