by Allison Pang
“Pain?” There were entire volumes of meaning written into that one word, but I didn’t know how to address it.
“Mmmm. Yes. Or at least the kind that doesn’t involve the forceful taking of my blood.”
“Just how hard did you hit your head?”
“Never mind.” I closed my eyes again. “Contract gone bad a while ago. I didn’t insist on the correct wording and the asshole decided to take more than he should have.”
“More what?” The chill in his voice almost made me shiver. I should have heeded the warning, but I pushed onward.
“Blood, of course. I Contracted with a vampire my second night in Portsmyth. I was clueless and he took advantage of that.” Ion’s fingers stiffened in my hair, the stillness in him charging like a lightning bolt. “I’m over it, so don’t go all he-man on me now.”
His fingers started their light massage again, brushing over my forehead. “What was his name?”
“I’m not that stupid. I tell you that”—I yawned, stretching slightly—“you’re going to go beat the mother-fucker’s head in. And as much as I might not mind seeing it happen, I don’t think we’re in a good spot for that. Besides, Jett doesn’t hang around the Hallows much anymore.” Crap. “Did I just say that out loud?”
“You certainly did,” he crooned, an echo of male smugness ringing through the words.
“Please don’t. I really can’t handle being responsible for one more person right now. I’m a big girl. I can live with my mistakes. Or most of them.”
“Tell me what happened, then.” The kneading dropped toward my neck, his thumbs tracing over a hard knot close to my shoulder. “All those sordid little details.”
“Why don’t you just go look them up in my dreams? Or my nightmares. Same thing in this case.”
“I could, but I’d rather hear it from you. Did you sleep with him?”
“Yeah, I did. Wasn’t all that great, though.” I thought about it for a moment. “Well, okay, it was probably better than a regular guy, but it was just kind of . . . empty. I’ve had one-night stands before that were more fulfilling, and some that were less, so really, it wasn’t a big deal. By the end of the night, he signed off on the Contract and kicked me out the door and that was that.” I turned toward him, attempting to sit up.
His face shadowed over. “You don’t ever let anyone in, do you? Nothing shatters that shell—not even a Contract that probably was equivalent to rape.”
I blew out sharply. “Rape? I don’t think so. He took advantage of me for sure, but I signed the thing. It’s not on him if I didn’t read the fine print. And as for not letting it bother me—I don’t know how to answer that. I definitely had a dark moment or two after it, but let’s be honest, shall we? The last thing I remember of my mother was having her brains explode over my face. There is nothing that will ever compare to that in the internal darkness and angst scale. An oversexed vampire rates pretty damn low, comparatively.”
“There is that.”
“You were right, though,” I said. “About me running away. I was. I have been ever since the accident. Since I realized that I was never going to be what I wanted to be.” I tapped on my plate. “Some things can’t be undone, but that doesn’t mean I want to accept it either.”
He kissed my forehead firmly, his mouth drifting down over my nose until it captured my lips. I allowed myself to respond to it, something visceral catching hold in my chest, burning through my lungs like a tongue of flame.
“I know,” he murmured, the words muffled. “And I had no right to say it like I did.”
“It’s true, though. I crashed on Mel’s couch that night and cried myself to sleep and then just wandered around the next morning, trying to figure out where I fit in.”
“And you found Moira?”
“Yeah. I didn’t even know what I wanted to do, but she had an apartment-for-rent sign up. Something about it . . . I just ended up in the store and she was there and I guess that was it.” I let my head drift onto his shoulder. “She was . . . kind to me, offered me the place at a reduced rent, but I don’t know. The more I think on it, I have to say there was an air of something desperate about her.” I frowned. “Whatever was going on with her, it was happening well before I ever entered the picture.” Another thought crossed my mind. “There’s one thing that confuses me about all this though. If I’m a KeyStone—and I’m assuming Moira figured it out pretty quickly, since she offered me her Contract a few hours later—why didn’t I TouchStone Jett? I mean, we had sex. If my TouchStoning is triggered by touch, shouldn’t he have bound to me too?”
Brystion’s eyes narrowed. “It’s like Roweena said. You have to be receptive to it. On some level with him, you weren’t, regardless of what level of physical intimacy you had.”
“Probably a good thing. After all, I could be TouchStoned to Robert now too, eh?”
“Hardly bears thinking about.” His mouth quirked up in a mocking grin. “But right now, I think we should get you home.”
“I suppose. I could really use something to eat too.” My belly rumbled in protest. “I didn’t get a chance to eat anything all damn day, not since your breakfast, anyway. Help me up.”
I flushed beneath the weighted look of his eyes. “There’s a good Italian place around the corner from the Pit. They deliver.” I looked around. “Where’s Phineas? We probably need to get something for him too.”
Brystion shrugged, rubbing his hand over his backside with a curious expression. “He left with Robert and Roweena. I think they were going to come up with a plan. I wouldn’t worry about him too much. He seems to be able to take care of himself.”
“And the others? Melanie?”
“They were told to leave as soon as you hit the floor. Of course,” he snorted, “Robert threatened them with death if any of them mentioned what they saw, which means the entire town should know the story in about two hours.”
“That’s something, I suppose.” A wave of light-headedness swept over me. “Ah, you know, I think I need to sit down again. How much longer are they giving us in here?” He led me back to the center chair, and I slumped. Brystion handed me my forgotten cup of water, his attention on the front doors, mouth curving.
“They didn’t say, but it sounds like they’re still arguing. We’ve got a little time, I think.”
“Time for what?” I sipped at the water.
He knelt between my thighs. “Nothing in particular,” he murmured, his hands sliding along the outsides of my calves. “Call it a short recess.”
“We shouldn’t,” I whispered hoarsely as he leaned toward me, his arms raised to frame either side of my head. His lips brushed mine lightly, dusted the skin of my cheek to move down my neck. I moaned, the wet slide of his tongue over my collarbone enough to make me tremble with longing. I arched my back, heedless of the way the back of the chair ground into my shoulders.
“No.”
His mouth curved into a wicked smile, teeth gleaming in the darkness as he glanced up. I swallowed, some secret part of me knowing this battle was lost and had been the moment he stepped into the bookstore four days ago.
The ridges of his abdomen pressed through his thin cotton shirt, the heat from his skin searing me with each ragged breath I took. My fingers traced the seamed edges of the cloth bunched up at the small of his back, clutching at it in a futile attempt to remain calm.
“Moira said it wouldn’t be a good idea,” I said.
He blinked in surprise and pulled away, the golden nimbus of his eyes fading. “Moira actually told you not to sleep with me?”
I scowled. “Not you specifically, you pretentious ass. She just said I shouldn’t get . . . involved. You know, given that other thing with Jett.”
The incubus snorted, shoulders relaxing. “Well, then, I suppose there’s only one thing left to decide.”
“And what’s that? If I prefer asking permission to begging forgiveness?”
He gently pressed a finger to my lips, his voice smug and
husky with desire. “Do you want me?”
Cheeky bastard.
“Yes.” I shivered as I stared into those dark eyes, watching as they flared with new light.
One brow arched in amusement. “Then we can argue about it later.”
“You’re assuming I’m even going to want to talk to you later,” I grumbled.
He chuckled and the sound rippled down my spine like liquid lust. “I never assume anything, Abby. Besides, it’s a little late to be arguing about it now, don’t you think?”
“Probably,” I muttered, sitting up. “But as enjoyable as this is, I’m not exactly one for public acts of ravishment.” My mouth quirked up at him. “The walk of shame afterward is a right bitch.”
He pulled back and then gently tugged me to my feet, but not before giving my ass a pinch. I wanted to hit him. I wanted to run away. I wanted to throw him on the floor and tear his clothes off. In the end, I did none of these, choosing instead to give him a sour smile.
“Come on, incubus.” I gestured at the door. “Let’s go.”
If he took offense at my words it didn’t show, but a flicker of amusement danced behind those golden eyes as he drifted past me.
“Later,” he promised.
The waning evening sun shone through the Judgment Hall, the sunlight watering down through slatted windows that spoke of arrow slits and protection from sieges. Oddly appropriate, given the circumstances, but not in a particularly comfortable way.
I winced at the glare, sucking in a deep breath to ward off the swimming feeling in my head. Brystion’s hand was at my elbow, a subtle guide and burning reminder of what was left unsaid.
Roweena slid gracefully toward us like a ghost. “I see you are awake. How are you feeling?” Her gaze moved to the cluster of feathers in my hand, giving rise to the question she really wanted answered.
“They’re his sister’s. I . . . um, seem to have TouchStoned her—during my seizure.”
“Troubling.” Her eyes searched my face, but I just held out the feathers to her. She frowned, chewing on her lower lip, but didn’t touch them. She looked strangely uncertain, and that wasn’t a good sign. The Fae were almost always certain.
Roweena’s expression became grave. “I don’t know if Brystion told you, but the full Council has been contacted. I’ve tried to stave them off to give you some more time, but they cannot wait any longer. It will take them a while, however, to fully assemble, so I think you’ve got a day or two to find Moira. After that . . .”
“I guess my character witnesses weren’t that good,” I sighed.
“On the contrary,” she said, “most of them were excellent, but there’s no denying the Queen. She will stop at nothing to get her daughter back.”
“Then why isn’t she here now?” I challenged. “Why wait almost four months before coming to look for her? Why isn’t the Council here already?”
“Time travels differently on the CrossRoads. You know that,” Roweena explained. “And I do not speak for the Queen. She makes her own decisions.”
“What about Maurice? Wouldn’t he be the obvious one to track?”
“He is an unfortunate presence,” the Fae agreed. “I am waiting on the Council’s word on that, as well.”
I thought back to the note Moira left me, with its hastily scrawled message. If she had been kidnapped by Maurice—or anyone for that matter—why would she leave a note? Something about her oddly phrased words churned in the back of my mind. “Even that phrase from the note she left.” I turned around slowly, twisting the feathers. “Hold back the fort instead of hold down.” Such a simple mistake, but Moira had never been that sloppy before. It had to be intentional.
“She was likely in a rush,” Brystion observed. “Surely it’s a common error.”
“Even if that were true, why wouldn’t she have at least told Robert?” I eyed the angel. “You said it yourself—she would never go anywhere long-term like that without telling you.”
Phineas sidled up to us, rearing on his hind legs to sniff at the feathers. “What if Maurice was already there?”
“I didn’t see her leave,” I admitted. “And it wasn’t uncommon for her to keep weird hours. But if he forced her to write the note, why would it be so sloppy?” I shook my head; the answer suddenly snapped hard. “Fort! That’s it. The wording wasn’t a mistake.” I caught the liaison’s eyes. “She doesn’t want the Queen to come.”
Roweena blinked slowly. “It is true that Faery hills are sometimes known as forts,” she said. “If this is the case, there is a much larger game being played.” I nearly choked on the obviousness of that particular observation.
A sudden weariness swept over me. I was tired of not having answers, and every way I turned only made things less clear. Phineas brushed his horn against my leg. “Come on, Abby. Let’s take a walk.”
Leaving the others to continue their conversation, the unicorn and I paced the outer perimeters of the hall.
He paused by the edge of a shadowed alcove, his hooves echoing on the marble. “You don’t have to do this all alone, you know. Faery tales aside, there’s no particular grace in being the solitary hero.”
“I’ve hardly done anything that counts as heroic,” I said wryly, crouching down beside him.
“Bah,” he snorted. “The concept is nothing more than a word for stubbornness. You’ve got that in droves. The only real trick is using what’s at your disposal.”
Puzzled, I followed his gaze back to where the others were standing. They weren’t all there, of course. The Gypsy, in particular, was missing, but Melanie and Robert were still there, of course . . . and Katy. I guess she wasn’t that tired after all. “Looks like Katy made herself comfortable, eh?” The young blonde was leaning up against the wall, her face animated in that way only the truly innocent have. Then again, it may have had more to do with the way Brandon was protecting her, his eyes burning with a hunger that had very little to do with grandmothers or woodsmen.
Phineas waggled his beard at the odd pair. “The better to eat her with,” he chortled.
“Ah, well, Brandon is a good sort. I don’t think he’ll lead her too far astray.” I paused, looking at the little group. “You really think they’ll help?”
“Abby, they’re just as scared as you are. No one wants the Faery Queen here. We’ve all got lives too, you know.” I thought for a moment, hesitating.
I approached them cautiously, catching Mel’s wry smile with my own. “Are you all right, Abby?” She hugged me unexpectedly, and I returned the embrace.
“Guess I scared you more than I thought.”
“I’ve seen some weird shit over the last few years, but . . . well, let’s just say I’d rather not see another seizure of that caliber again, and leave it at that.”
“You and me both,” I agreed, turning the feathers over in my hands.
“Hey, Abby!” Katy waved me over. I moved to where she and Brandon were standing. Melanie drifted in my wake. “We, uh, that is, Brandon thought we might be able to help track Moira down?”
I pursed my mouth at Phineas. “I’m listening.”
“We can offer you a base of operations,” Brandon explained. “And we can help you search, or at least set up some kind of watch list. You know, interview the rest of the populace, so to speak? Find out if anyone knows something.”
I nodded slowly. “It’s not a bad idea, actually.” As a bartender, Brandon had to know a lot of people. And everyone rambles at a bartender at some point. “I don’t suppose you’ve actually got any information about any of this already?”
He shook his head regretfully. “Wasn’t really paying attention before. But I’ll see what I can find out.”
“And as far as a base of operations goes . . .” I chewed on my thumb. It tasted of leather and something else. Wet feathers? Suppressing a shudder I turned back toward him. “I had thought that maybe the bookstore would work. But now . . .”
“Nah. Use the Hallows.” The werewolf shrugged, winking at me
. “It’s well stocked and centrally located.”
Roweena perked up and nodded at this. “I think that’s an excellent idea. When the Council convenes it would be good to have a collaborative show of effort.”
I snorted. “Covering our asses, I guess.”
“Just so,” she agreed sagely, her face a study in blankness. “And the Hollows would be better defended, as well. After all, don’t you live above the bookstore?”
The thought of having all those nymphs and satyrs partying below me made me cringe. God knows what would be banging on my door at any given hour. “I see your point,” I said.
“So, what is it that we need to do first?” Katy’s face quivered with anticipation.
“Consolidate information, I guess. I’m assuming you guys put together a timeline while I was out?” My gaze flicked toward Robert.
“It’s got some gaps, but yes. Just help me find them,” he said quietly, his burning edge of judgment fading into a sad resignation. “My Charlie and Moira. That’s all I want.”
“I will. We need to start by finding out how those paintings fit in. If we can track down Topher too, that will speed things up, but his assistant said he wasn’t in town. So, I guess we could take a look through some of the books in the Marketplace. We might find something there about magical paintings.” I yawned, rubbing at the back of my head. “And to be honest I really need something to eat and some rest.” Time may have been of the essence, but I wouldn’t do anyone any good if I had another seizure because I was strung out. I was TouchStoned to four OtherFolk now. I didn’t know what my limit was, but I could definitely tell I was tiring because of it.
Melanie dug into her purse. “I’ve got a granola bar.” She tossed it at me.
I unwrapped it dubiously. “It looks healthy.”
“You never know,” she retorted, “but then, I’d hate to see you die from eating something without bacon in it.”