rogue shifter 07 - cut off

by parness, gayle

  "I think he was just as shocked by his behavior as I was. The last time he blacked my eye I was fourteen and had taken his horse out without permission, then lamed the poor creature by riding it too hard. I deserved it on that occasion."

  Liam lowered the ice bag and I got a good look at the shiner. "Why haven't you healed yourself?"

  "I like how it looks. A symbol of my rebellion." He and Farrell laughed.

  "Males. Ugh." I took a long sip of coffee, wishing it was honey wine.

  "Charlie is safe?" Farrell asked

  "Yes, Isaiah will keep him hidden and will continue his training."

  Liam shifted uncomfortably, his eye almost swollen shut. I shook my head and grunted. "Liam, I know you're enjoying re-living your rebellious teen years, but I think you should grow up and go home so Kellaine can heal you. And you call me stubborn." Liam lived only a few miles from my house with his lovely partner Kellaine and their adopted son, Grady.

  Farrell laughed out loud, but stopped when Liam gave him a one-eyed glare. "I never had rebellious teen years. Father didn't allow it."

  "I heard about all the holes you and your brother had to dig," Farrell chimed in.

  "I was over two hundred years old. Aedus was over three hundred. We weren't considered teens."

  "Well that's just ridiculous." I was losing patience, my mind on Charlie and Garrett.

  Liam stood. "Before I go, I have a request."

  "What?" I gave him a suspicious frown.

  "I'd like you to agree to Farrell's—suggestion."

  "Which is...?" My eyes narrowed as my gaze switched to the other male at the table.

  Liam laughed. "He'll tell you. I'll be here tomorrow morning to begin work on a plan to change the queen's mind. In the meantime, you should call in the rest of the troupes. Get them all here by eight."

  "But we should start working tonight."

  "You're tired and the queen has given us three days. Eat and rest. Garrett would be the first to insist that you take care of yourself." Liam dissolved in a glow of fae magic.

  He was right. I was exhausted and too upset to think straight. A solid night's sleep would help. According to the note, we still had around fifty-three hours before the queen would be expecting us at court.

  "So...?"

  Farrell smiled sweetly and took another sip of his coffee. "Aislin has reported to me that she saw Grady and Jay home, then she returned to Cascade as per Lord Caelen's orders. Kyle called but I told him you'll call him back later."

  "You're volunteering as my personal assistant?" I teased. "I thank you, but it's not necessary."

  He leaned back in the chair, his gaze determined. "I've decided to remain here in the house with you."

  "Won't you be in trouble?"

  He grinned, enjoying the idea."Perhaps. But Lord Caelen is not my father, nor is Aedus my brother, so a black eye is not something I foresee in my immediate future. My sister, Kellaine, has a sharp tongue but is a gentle soul who has never beaten me, although there have been times she's been tempted, I'm sure." His eyes glittered with a private memory. "She and my parents have learned to allow me my independence."

  "But what...?"

  "Someone has to stay and guard you, Jacqueline. The queen and her followers are dangerous."

  "I have Liam."

  "He has Kellaine and Grady's safety to consider. He will not put them in danger. Not even to save you."

  "Sasha and Heinrich..."

  "They must rest during the daylight hours."

  "Our Rogues team..."

  "They are certainly the best of all shapeshifter warriors, yet they cannot defeat even the weakest of fae without sophisticated weapons. Iron, steel or lead are forbidden, the consequences of bringing such weapons within the borders of the Faerie Court would be dire. Also, the queen only allows fae to enter.

  I hesitated, not wanting to insult him. "Farrell, you're young and the queen has lived for thousands of years."

  "I'm of the royal line." Male pride lit up his face. Although he was young, Farrell still possessed a tiny amount of the arrogance often attributed to his race.

  "Yes...but she is..." I chose my words carefully. "She is the queen, with seelie and unseelie powers."

  He shrugged. "And yet I'm here. And willing."

  "Willing to die?"

  "Yes, as are you. How can I do less? I swore to protect Charlie and his mother. I stay."

  Another stubborn fae who would argue with me until I fell asleep at the table. Yet I was touched by his generosity. "Take the room upstairs on the left."

  He laughed. "I expected an extended argument."

  "I don't have the strength."

  "Eat and rest. I'll keep you safe."

  "I have calls to make."

  "I apologize that I am not a chef like my cousin, but I will make you a sandwich like you occasionally make for me and Charlie. Will that be acceptable while you inform Garrett's allies of his capture?"

  "I'm not hungry."

  "Good, I'll make the sandwich." He turned away as my mouth dropped open. This day was becoming an exercise in tolerance.

  Aaron was my first call, since he was family. "I'll be there tonight."

  "Aaron..."

  "Tonight. I should make it by midnight. I have a key to the villa."

  "Farrell's staying here. He says he has to guard me."

  "Excellent. I wouldn't want you to be alone. Meeting's at eight tomorrow morning?"

  "Yes."

  "Can I call Rob for you?"

  "That would be great." He was next on my list. "Could you please ask him to call Ethan? Ethan can call Kyle." Sinc and Gabe were on vacation in Ireland, and I couldn't see upsetting their trip.

  "You got it. I'll see you tomorrow morning."

  "Thanks." My next call was long distance. "Francois, I'm sorry to call at this time."

  "I felt Garrett's absence, but not his death. Où est-il ? Where is he?"

  "At the fae court. Fionna wants me to exchange Charlie for Garrett."

  "He'll never agree. Send Charles to me. He will be safer in Paris."

  "Thank you, but Charlie's safe where he is."

  "Jacqueline...what have you done?" I told him. There was silence and then a deep rumble of laughter. "Your fae friends must be furious with you."

  "Not all of them. Some are supporting my decision."

  "The rest will come around. It's impossible to remain angry with you, sweet girl. Do you need me there?"

  "We're meeting tomorrow morning. I'll call you afterward. You know that you're always welcome here."

  "Of course. I will wait to hear from you." He sighed. "Garrett will survive. He has you to keep him strong."

  "I'm afraid." I whispered, a shiver shaking my body.

  "This is natural. Hold him in your heart and wrap your magic around him. You have powerful allies who will help you bring him home."

  "Francois..."

  "Rest tonight. Bonne nuit, lovely lady."

  "Merci, bonne nuit."

  I hesitated over the last call. I hadn't spoken to my birth father, Simon Crenshaw, in over eleven years, but I had a strong desire to hear his voice. Funny how things hit you when you least expected them to.

  Sixteen years ago, Garrett had discovered that my birth father, whom I'd never met, was a professor of ancient languages at Stanford University. Garrett had arranged a meeting at Simon's office and we'd stopped there on the way home from the villa in Carmel where I'd first met Marie. Simon was shocked to find out he was a father of grown-up twin girls and soon to be a grandfather, but he'd handled it well and we'd vowed to get together as often as possible. Crescent City was only around a six hour drive from Palo Alto, where Simon owned a small house.

  At the time, my twin sister Bridgett was alive, so I'd shown Simon pictures of both of us and given him as much information as I could during our short meeting. In return, he'd gifted me with a picture of my mother, one that I keep in a frame on my dresser and cherish. We'd grown closer during the fir
st five years of Charlie's life, although I didn't have a chance to spend much time with him due to my son's illness.

  Everything changed when Bridgett was killed, the circumstances of her death still haunting my dreams.

  She'd turned traitor to the fae and to our family by using a blood magic spell to alert our grandmother that she wished to join her in the Demon Realm. The blood she'd used had been taken from the bodies of murdered shapeshifters. When we argued about her leaving, I went into labor, bleeding heavily and unable to stand. She and our grandmother left me there to suffer, perhaps to lose the baby.

  Five years ago, we'd discovered that she was attempting to raise an army to cross over and bring war to the fae and also the werewolves, vampires, shifters and humans of our world. Because she was part demon like me, Isaiah was able to dig up her summoning name and I used it to bring her into my own spelled circle. She continued to threatened my son's life, so I chose to battle against her, sister to sister. Even though I was not the one to strike the death blow, it was my decision to bring Bridgett here for a final battle. I was and still am completely responsible for her death. Even so, I would do it again to protect my family.

  Simon came to her memorial service. After the service I took him aside and told him how Bridgett had died. He was stunned. He asked question after question, always coming back to why we hadn't tried to get her psychological or medical help. To him it was obvious that she was under some kind of glamour and wasn't really acting like herself.

  My nerves were already frayed, and the third degree just made it worse. We both got angry and said things that we shouldn't have said.

  The day ended badly when Simon stormed out. I guess what I'd wanted from him on the day of my sister's funeral was understanding and maybe even a shoulder to cry on. To be fair, Simon didn't know either of us well, and he'd now lost his chance forever with Bridgett. I understood why he'd felt anger, but Simon hadn't been there writhing on the ground in labor while Bridgett did nothing.

  Even after all that, I mostly remembered her with love. We'd planted an orange tree next to the apple tree we'd grown in honor of her mate, William. I sat near the two trees often and thought about the two of them, hoping with all my heart that they were somewhere together.

  I sighed and cancelled the call. Why I'd thought to call him at all, I couldn't say.

  Farrell had been hovering nearby, when he saw I'd finished, he put the sandwich in front of me, along with a coke and a napkin. There was too much lettuce and very little meat, but I ate every single bite and thanked him several times for his efforts.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Fionna swayed in her usual graceful way across the colorful Persian carpet, sounding smug. "The vampire has learned his lesson. The next time he will feed."

  "You think so?" I was certain that would not be the case.

  "Yes. He was forced to watch the slaughter of the goblin because he disobeyed me. It disturbed him. He is more cheetah than vampire, it seems."

  "Fionna..." She glared at me because I hadn't used her title. She loved to play her games, even in private, so I complied to save time. "My queen, may I speak?"

  "Yes, brother." She smirked and seated herself in the largest, most comfortable chair in the library, as if she was still in the throne room holding court. She gestured with her hand that I should continue.

  "Garrett was made by Eleanor Howard. Tortured by her for decades."

  "Your point." She folded her arms, signaling that she was already annoyed with the direction of the conversation.

  "Witnessing a violent death will not cause him to change his mind, unless it is the death of someone he cares about."

  "He was kind to the goblin."

  "He is compassionate. It is a major weakness. But he had no real attachment to the goblin. I surmise that he saw the death as an unfortunate circumstance brought about by his captors, but nothing he was directly responsible for."

  "And you suggest...?"

  Taking a few moments to collect my thoughts, I moved to the large picture window where the rose garden—or what was left of it—spread all the way to the stream. With almost all of the demi-fey in cages, we had our mongrels working the gardens. They were not skilled, nor were they born with the magic of growth and protection as the pixies were. If anything grew, it was quickly eaten by the local animals and insects. Nothing was in balance any longer, and the power of the court was diminishing at an alarming rate. That would change soon enough, when I took the throne for myself.

  She sighed, an indication that she was growing impatient. "I suggest you send him a mongrel. Let her stay until they form a real connection. Then make your demands."

  Tillion, Fionna's latest consort, left his comfortable chair in the corner and barged into our personal space as well as our conversation. "Fionna, kill the vampire now. He is nothing but trouble."

  I looked at the idiot in disbelief. "They will know if he dies. Then they will not come."

  "How will they know? We will take care of it ourselves in a secret location."

  I turned away to pour myself more wine. "Fionna, my queen, this one's stupidity nauseates me. Send him away before I kill him."

  Tillion was almost my height, with stringy reddish hair and beady indigo eyes. He was the classic bottom feeder, a parasite that clung to my half-sister like a tick. The extent of his intelligence was evident the minute he grabbed my shoulder to turn me back to face him.

  My hand was grasping his throat a heartbeat later, squeezing slowly so I could watch him die at my leisure. I particularly enjoyed when their eyes first widened in fear, then the way their face turned purple.

  "Kennet. Let him go."

  "You're sure?" My fangs had extended, the violence bringing on my lust for more of the same.

  "Yes, brother. Calm yourself." Her gentle touch on my shoulder soothed the beast inside me.

  I released him, scowling. Tillion stumbled to the wall, leaning there, panting. Unfortunately, he was one of the few fae Fionna hadn't partially blocked from their magic, otherwise his new bruises would be evident for weeks. I would have enjoyed seeing them there.

  Most of the court attendees had taken on a ragged cast from years of not having full access to the lines. Fionna liked to hoard extra power, keeping the court under her spiteful thumb. What she didn't understand was that she now had a court full of potential enemies who could very easily tear her to shreds at the first sign of weakness.

  I was recruiting only the strongest, grooming a private army while secretly restoring a portion of their powers. These fae were loyal to me and not their queen.

  Tillion's rage was a sword pointed in my direction, and I took note. Although he was far weaker than myself, if one wasn't wary, even an imbecile could kill you with a lucky swipe of his blade. Perhaps I'd do a little checking up on Lord Tillion and find out what he does when he's not kissing the queen's ass. It could be both entertaining and useful.

  "Enlighten him, Kennet." She huffed in exasperation as she paced

  "The vampire has a lifemate and a nest who will feel the connection shatter if we kill him. Worse, his grandsire and great-grandsire could feel it and seek vengeance. Kostas Appellas, Francois's maker, has been a world power for almost ten thousand years."

  "He's only a vampire." The toady croaked.

  I pinched the bridge of my nose in frustration."Kostas studies the arcane."

  "How do you know this, brother?" Fionna's voice had grown quiet. Never a good sign. She hated it when someone knew more about something than she did.

  "Caelen and his sons study the ancient Magicks, so I felt it was necessary to discover who else dabbles in the arts. It is my duty to protect you at all costs." I didn't mention that I was also a practitioner, nor that I had a battalion of spies placed in key locations who reported to me on a regular schedule.

  "You are walking a thin wire, Kennet." Tillion was croaking again. I pretended not to hear.

  Fionna swayed in the bootlicker's direction. "My love, could yo
u give us some privacy? There are things of a personal nature I must discuss with my brother."

  "He's your half-brother. His mother was mad. I don't know why you trust him."

  "I am quite familiar with his background." she snapped.

  He bowed deeply to his queen. Maybe he wasn't quite as stupid as I thought. Then he pulled her close and kissed her with more passion than I thought possible for a buffoon. He pushed her aside and smirked at me when he'd finished.

  All was made clear. Tillion was indeed a feeble-minded cretin. After spending the last twenty years in her bed, did he know nothing of her? As much as Fionna enjoyed the attention she got while holding court, she kept her personal life private. Open displays of emotion made her feel vulnerable and then angry.

  This time she held her anger in tight control. Tillion would live another day.

  She stared at the door that had just closed behind her lover. "That one is working toward becoming an appetizer for the slaugh." She was only half joking. Her pets enjoyed meals of pure blood seelie flesh more than any other.

  "Forgive my impudence, but you can do so much better."

  "I know. I've been distracted and he is convenient." She tossed her golden curls around, glancing in the mirror to watch how they tumbled about her lovely shoulders. She was so like her mother, the former queen. Those rounded lips that always made it look like she was pouting, which half the time she was, also came from Aine's line. But the large intelligent eyes were Father's. Too bad she hadn't inherited his genius.

  "What are you staring at?" she asked.

  "I was thinking how your lips are like you mother's."

  "Hmmph. Most males like my lips."

  "I understand why." She smiled, enjoying the compliment. I didn't mention that there was only one set of lips that I'd ever truly enjoyed kissing, and I planned to kiss them again soon.

  CHAPTER NINE

  I wasn't surprised when the scent of fresh blood blasted against my senses once more. Fionna was doing everything she could to get me to feed and, without access to magic, it was getting tougher to remain stoic.

  A gruff male voice spoke over the sound of a whimpering female. "The vampire will drain you, mongrel. Consider yourself fortunate. There are worse ways to die." The guard, tall and slim like most fae males, threw her to the floor, the female grunting in pain as she landed. I was surprised to see that the guard's facial features were distorted, scarred from burns that had never healed. I found it odd that he would choose to remain disfigured, fae magic being powerful enough to heal most superficial injuries almost instantly.