I was not surprised to hear the knock. "Answer the door then sit again." She did as I commanded.
"Lord." My captain bowed low.
Under the dim fae light that I preferred in my chambers, his scars appeared less distinct, his more relaxed demeanor reminding me of the male whose laughter had once been heard in the halls of the court. Back then he'd been called Reylan, but now preferred to use only the rank I'd attached to him. He had been one of my rare friends when I was a child, sometimes hiding me from Mother, or defending me after a brutal remark was made by a peer.
Surprising though it may seem to some, I still yearned to hear his laughter and that of all full blood fae. To see my people glowing with health once more under my rule, would be the culmination of a long held dream. But time was growing short.
I handed him the jar. "Box this up and wrap it well, then take it to Jacqueline. She is on the beach with her guard and her dog. Do not linger. We must avoid an altercation between you and her Cascade companion." I sent my captain a mental picture of where they were, shaking my head at Jacqueline's foolish decision to leave her home where she was protected by magical wards. Garrett would not be pleased to hear it. I must be sure to tell him.
"Yes, lord." As the male picked up the jar, he looked at Elle. She turned away. and curled her body toward the wall.
"Would you like her?" I asked, curious as to what his response might be. He'd never shown any interest before.
He watched her trembling body with a keen fascination. "If you would honor me in that way, I would be forever grateful." I imagined that a male with his horrific scars might be hard-pressed to find a female to service him. Soldiers were not allowed to take mongrels to their beds without the express permission of the higher lords, and I had not granted him that boon. The population of mongrels was thinning, and the lords and ladies of court did not like to share.
"I will consider it."
"Yes, Lord Kennet." He bowed again, his face a neutral mask.
"Go now." As he took to the lines I turned toward the female. "Bathe."
"What? Where?"
"Adjoining the far chamber." I pointed in the direction I described. "You reek from close association with the vampire. There will be a dress waiting for you when you finish. Put it on. Then you may eat."
"Y...yes, Lord." Elle rose, crying again, then moved toward the bathing chamber. Compared to Jacqueline, she was an inferior specimen, too thin and lacking the vitality that brought my spirit to life.
I poured myself a goblet of wine then sat to eat, going over the next few hours in my head. Elle was female and would suffice, and I was not quite finished with Garrett. As I filled my plate with savory meats and cheeses, I was surprised by the intensity of my hunger.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
We were heading toward Isaiah's upstairs office, the private space he considered his sanctum sanctorum. It was guarded by four lower-level demons that I'd never once seen walking around downstairs. Maybe they weren't servants, but more like private guards.
Not as tall as Isaiah or myself, they had much shorter hair, cut in a practical military style. They wore a kind of uniform in a light shade of brown: a long tunic that came to their knees with slits on the side and baggy lightweight pants. They carried swords and daggers, and one of them had a whip looped over his shoulder Indiana Jones-style. If I hadn't been so nervous, I'd have thought it was cool.
As we passed through two sets of double doors, the four males bowed low, each left hand behind each left ear. The fourth one spoke, saying only, "Lord Isaiah. This missive was delivered a short time ago."
"Thank you." He gave the envelope a cursory glance. "Have you and your men eaten?"
"Yes, lord."
"Good. I'll let you know if I need anything."
"Thank you, lord."
We entered the office, which was huge and totally awesome, with artwork from artists I'd actually heard of and leather furniture right out of some period drama. The rugs probably cost thousands of dollars, dyed in bright blues and reds and purples. I wandered around for a few minutes, then plunked myself into a really comfortable arm chair, putting my feet up on the little stool thing that matched. I'd been shocked that he'd allowed me upstairs at all, especially since Mom hadn't been invited up, even though she'd stayed with him a couple days a month for ten years.
He grinned at me, seeming to take pride in the room. "You like?"
"It's cool. No wonder you like to come up here." He had a laptop on his desk."You have the internet?"
"I can't divulge state secrets." He winked. Suddenly there was a goblet of wine next to each of us.
"Uh...could I have cider?"
He switched it with a scowl. "You need to build up a tolerance."
"The glass I had yesterday made me feel like crap."
"How's your practicing coming?" Last night we'd worked together on moving through the lines in the DR. He told me he was surprised at how quickly I'd picked up the basics.
"I worked on it most of the night." I confided, wanting his approval.
"Really? Show me." The transition was fairly smooth. "Better. Did you sleep at all?"
"Yes, and I ate plenty at breakfast." I'd forced myself to eat well, restoring the nutrients my body needed so I'd be in top form. Everyone, especially the guy sitting across from me with his feet up on the desk, had made it clear that a regimen of exercise and healthy food made magic more responsive to my will. This was one time I figured he knew what he was talking about.
Since I liked to train and was hungry all the time anyway, it wasn't really a hassle.
He was reading the note the guard had handed him. "Damn." He slammed his fist down, rattling his coffee mug and spoon. The noise drew my eyes to the desk itself, a piece that fascinated me more than any other item I'd seen in the house so far. It was hand carved, depicting scenes right out of Jurassic Park. He couldn't be that old, could he? Whoa.
"Naberia wants to see me," he grumbled.
"Don't you call her Mom?"
He snickered. "'I sometimes call her Mother, although there are many choice names I've dredged up for her over the years."
"Is she anything like the Faerie Queen?"
"They're nothing alike. Fionna's a spoiled child, destroying her own people with her impetuous whims and edacity for power. Despite the threat of war, she doesn't train her army nor prepare in any way. Allowing her race to fade, to suffer, is a sign of great weakness and may bring about the end of the seelie race. She is consumed with fear and probably on the edge of madness."
I swallowed hard. Dad was under this crazy female's control.
"Naberia is a more ancient creature, calculating and vengeful. She protects her race with every ounce of her skill. A total control freak, if someone is found to be disloyal, she is the one who dispenses judgment. In a war against the Seelie Fae, she will use any means at her disposal and will exalt in each and every fae death. Fear is a word unknown to my dear mother."
"But if she works to protect your people, why do you hate her?"
"She protects the entire race from the fae, yes, but takes pleasure in personal vengeance." He downed his goblet then waved a hand to fill it again. "She's a murderer who feels no remorse. She's killed all of her female siblings, my sisters and even several female cousins, simply because they might have tried to depose her at some time in the future. Most couldn't have cared less about politics, but she wasn't taking any chances."
"Are you in danger?"
"As long as I stay male, I'm not a threat." Demons could choose their gender, switching at will. "Of course, if I start to cause trouble she'll attempt to end me."
"Attempt?"
He grinned. "Attempt."
"There's something I don't get."
"Ask."
"If she's so freakin' powerful, why doesn't everyone in your family stay male? Those siblings and cousins would all still be alive. I mean demons have the choice, right?"
"Two answers. Number one is that we have a ch
oice, but we have a preference as well. I'm more comfortable as a male, the others were apparently not. Demons are a stubborn race.
Number two is that I come from a long line of idiots. If she was killing off the males instead of the females, I'd have stayed female no matter what my preference. It's not rocket science." He shrugged. "Also what goes on in the bedroom is not usually on public view." He winked. "It's easy enough to switch back."
"Having me here puts you in danger." I craned my neck, looking for possible eavesdroppers. "Aren't you afraid that mommy dearest or the fae queen might have a spy in your house?"
"No longer. That problem got straightened out ten years ago."
"Since you have to go see her, will you take me with you?" Isaiah stared at me like I'd just lost my mind. I rolled my eyes. "In disguise, of course."
"I almost lost Jackie when I took her to Naberia. I'm not taking any chances with you."
"C'mon." I whined.
He crossed his arms. "Ask me again."
"Let me go with you."
We were suddenly next to the pool. "Start swimming laps."
"What?"
"You heard me."
"Isaiah..."
"I will not bring you because it would risk not only your life but mine."
"Fine," I grumbled.
What I suggest you do is not a punishment. I have the thread of an idea but your magic must work in harmony to make it happen. Fall into a meditative state while you swim and talk to your trio. Encourage them to work together." I must have looked skeptical. "Your mom must have told you that her meeting of the minds worked out."
"Yeah, but my situation is different 'cause fae and demons despise each other."
"Not all." Isaiah laughed. "There have been several fae females..." My jaw dropped. "Never mind that."
He stuck out one hand then the other, palm up. In the first one rose a mini version of myself, glowing inside an orange aura. The other hand sported a more fae-like version. "Your Magicks are not separate. Each is equally important to the whole." He moved his hands closer together where the two glared across the small gap. A green clad version jumped down from Isaiah's shoulder, pushing the two closer together as a tiny cheetah stood guard, growling.
There was no further progress at reconciliation. "I guess, but..."
"Do it. When I return, we may be able to continue with more advanced training." My mini-mees disappeared as he dissolved into the lines, his expression grim. Meetings with Mommy must suck.
After the first four laps, I called up my threesome and had a long heart to heart. As expected my fae side was ready to duel it out with the demon, but my cheetah/healer came online as mediator. After thirty minutes of slow laps, we'd reached an agreement everyone could work with.
Jeez. These mental acrobatics were more exhausting than the physical regimen Isaiah had me on. I crawled into bed for a short nap and ended up passing out for a few hours.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
I ran on the beach with Samson, Farrell following ten feet behind. The note from the queen about Garrett being tortured because Charlie was in the DR had freaked me out, but everyone assured me Fionna was all talk and that she wouldn't actually do anything. It was against the truce she'd agreed to with her brother, Caelen, when he'd left and handed her the crown. Plus, in the note she'd left with the dead fae male she'd said Garrett wouldn't be harmed.
There were two kids playing in the sand a few yards ahead, so I slowed down. They'd dug a huge hole and were busy building a castle wall around the edges.
I stopped and asked the older one, a boy around nine, "What's the castle protecting?" I could tell the kid was a black leopard shifter, even though he wasn't nearly old enough for his first transition.
"That's a hole where the demons live. The castle keeps them in so they can't get out to hurt anyone."
Farrell had to bite his lip to keep from laughing. I glared at him, then told the kid, "Demons actually live in houses like we do. Big houses, but still houses."
"Yeah? How da you know?" He crossed his arms over his chest in a stubborn pose.
"I've been there."
"To their hole?" He stood, his eyes wide.
"To a demon's house."
"Mommyyyyyyyy." The kid got up and ran twenty feet to where his mom was relaxing and reading a book. The little girl remained where she was, smiling, unaffected by her brother's shout. She was a cute little monkey, maybe seven, who'd one day shift to a snow leopard. She was pulling off leaves from the piles of seaweed scattered on the beach and then placing them on top of the sandy towers to act as flags. Samson walked over and sniffed her hair and she giggled. He licked her face and wiggled his butt.
"Ew. Silly doggie." I gave him the hand signal to heel and he immediately came back and sat by my feet.
"He seems to like you."
"That's okay. My doggie at home does that too."
I heard the older boy say, "That lady said she's been to a demon's house. Is she lying?" Farrell huffed behind me.
"Wesley, stop whining." The blond female looked up from her book and froze. Her head shifted sideways as she took the three of us in, spending quite a long time on Farrell. Even though he was dressed in cargo shorts and a tee shirt, any supernatural would know instantly that he was fae. She took off her shades and rubbed her eyes then looked again. The blood rushed out of her face as she realized she wasn't hallucinating.
"Um...Wesley. Do you remember that story I told you about the cheetah shapeshifter who is mated to a vampire and is friends with the Faerie Folk?"
He nodded. "Yeah."
"That's her." She gave me a feeble wave and a half smile, probably wondering if we were dangerous. Wesley's jaw dropped open, while the girl near my feet giggled, as if her mommy was making up a story.
"So she's been there? Really?"
"If she says she's been there, she's been there."
"Cool. Can I take her picture with your phone?"
I called out, "Sorry, not today, Wesley. Nice kids," I told the mom as I waved then took off again, running closer to the water this time, hoping to avoid any other contact. The last thing I needed was some kind of weird picture going up on a social media site. With Farrell in the picture, we could go viral.
Our small group rounded a natural bend in the beach where boulders formed a barrier, giving us some privacy. I found one large enough for the two of us to sit on and then scrambled up, leaving Samson on guard duty below. His version of guard duty was chasing sea gulls and waves and horseshoe crabs and anything else that moved.
I grinned at Farrell. "Don't say it," he grumbled, folding his legs into a pretzel shape.
"Gee. You're kinda grumpy for a member of the Faerie Folk."
He chuckled. "I must admit, I've never heard that one before."
"It's got a ring to it."
"Are you thinking of composing a song?"
"Maybe a poem. The legend of Farrell of the Faerie Folk. It would tell the tale of a young male who did great deeds, conquering the Demonic Dudes and the Vampiric Vixens and the..."
"Yeah. Ha, ha. Knock yourself out. At least I don't live in a hole."
"I think your sister, Kellie, would be particularly interested in the tale."
"I would imagine so, since she's also one of the Faerie Folk."
"True. The expression doesn't seem to fit Lord Caelen, however."
"Or Aedus." He'd lowered his voice and scowled in an exact imitation. We both cracked up.
"Aedus has been a good friend." I pointed out between chuckles.
"When he isn't polishing his sword or trying on his crown." I smacked Farrell's shoulder. "Ow." He pretended to be hurt.
Samson barked, then growled, alerting us to possible trouble. Farrell jumped down, drawing his sword and protecting me as I climbed to the sand behind him. A fae I didn't recognize appeared before us. He was thinner than most fae and his clothing looked worn and uncared for. But what drew my attention immediately was his badly burned face. The healer in me
reached out, but Farrell held me back, speaking to the male in Seelie Fae.
"'Tell me you name and your purpose here."
The male ignored Farrell and pulled a small plain box out of his leather satchel. He met my gaze and spoke. "Jacqueline Crawford. Fionna, the Queen of Faerie presents you with a gift. She hopes that it encourages you to retrieve your son from the Demon Realm and bring him to court by sunset this evening. If not, you will receive a new gift tomorrow." He disappeared as quickly as he'd arrived, leaving the box on the sand.
I stepped toward it, but Farrell blocked my progress with this arm, suddenly going all "Fae Guard" on me. "I've called Aedus. He'll decide."
"No he won't. It's meant for me." I tried unsuccessfully to brush past. "It could be something to do with Garrett." I didn't want to think about what could be in that unassuming package, but I had to know.
He held my arm in a vice grip. "We'll wait."
Samson started whining and sniffing the box. I knelt on the sand, still not touching it, my body beginning to shake from the stress. The wind changed. "Oh god, I smell blood. Garrett's blood."
"Yes." Farrell agreed, wincing. He'd placed a hand on my shoulder to keep me from going any closer.
Aedus appeared looking grim. He examined the outside of the package with a cool efficiency, then said, "I sense no poison nor other danger buried within. If the queen's goal is to have Charlie at court, it would defy logic to harm you." He put a hand on my other shoulder and lowered his voice. "We'll look at it together at your home."
Back at the house, I was grateful that I'd decided to sit before I opened my gift.
The finger had been placed in a small jar full of his blood, the kind of jar someone uses to store homemade jams or preserves. Strangely, I found this almost as horrible as what it contained, using something so innocent in such a dark way.
I pleaded with my two friends, hoping for their reassurance. "We don't know that it's his. I mean we know it's his blood, but the finger could be anyone's."
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