With what remained from breakfast tucked into a napkin, she picked up the lantern and stepped over the broken door. A cool breeze blew down the empty passage, lifting a loose piece of hair and stroking her face. She shivered, the cold trickling along her skin despite the heavy cloak. She glanced back into the false sanctuary of the warm, fire-lit room, wrapped her cloak tighter, and wished she could stay.
Lifting the lantern high, she looked right and left. She’d been here two weeks and barely could find her way between the few rooms she’d seen. Cairngloss was huge, something would lead to the surface. Holding the lantern in front of her, she made her way down the hall past the rows of doors. One of the doors was partway open. She peeked in. The dark room appeared empty, it smelled musty and unused. Something scraped the floor behind her. Spine tensed, she turned, her skirts flying around her ankles, but spotted nothing. Remembering the creepy white hobgoblins, she hurried on, pushed by the continued scuttling behind her. And the fear of being watched.
She needed an exit, not another room to hide in, and when she came to the hallway that led past the dining room and the library, she went further, searching for the workroom and the barred door Kian had warned her to leave alone.
Passing the workroom, that still smelled of the magic of her spell, she tried not to think about the aftermath of the spell. The intense passion that had broken down her barriers and even now linked her in some way to the angry man who had fled her room this morning. She averted her eyes and made her way to the end of the hall where it dead-ended in the ominous barred door.
For a moment, she thought better of what she was doing. Maybe Kian would honor their bargain. He’d said the fae couldn’t lie. But then she remembered the agony in his eyes and the despair in his roar. And the fact that he’d gotten rid of her clothes. Anger rushed through her. No, she couldn’t have any sympathy for him. He was still an elf, still manipulating her for what he needed and not considering her needs. The man of last night was not real. She had to go.
She pressed her ear to the door, but the solid wood held its secrets. Blowing out a breath, she struggled with the heavy, rectangular piece of wood wedged in the metal brackets, finally picking up one end and sliding it to the side. Before she could catch it, it hit the floor with a solid thud.
Bryanna’s breath caught.
The hall was still. No Beezel, no sound of the scuttling hobgoblins, no Kian.
She let her breath out and pushed on the door. It gave, the smell of cooking and a hot gust of moist air blew into her face. She gagged on the stench and stumbled into hell’s kitchen.
Two wide fireplaces, set across from each other, dominated the room filled with a bewildering assortment of sickly, yellow-green skinned monsters. Tall ones, fat ones. Some naked, some wearing rags. One turned his head all the way around on top of his squatty body with a teeth-filled hole where his stomach should have been. Some had round eyes, some had three. And one, sitting on a rocking chair and gnawing on a chicken leg, eyed her from a face dominated by a single, huge, unblinking eye.
In the center of the room, an enormous figure with six arms and bright orange dreadlocks yelled at a small, blue-haired female.“You burnt it!”
The female, wearing nothing but a dirty apron that did nothing to cover her dragging bare breasts that swung from side to side, yelled back. “I wouldn’t’ve if ye’d not been trying to poke me in the arse!” She spit at his feet and shook her bony fist.
Cold sweat raced down Bryanna’s back and she shivered in the sweltering heat. These were the real goblins, the ones Kian had said were locked away. And dangerous.
Her momentum sent her too close to the nearest fireplace, its gaping maw filled with flame and food. The leering twisted figure to her right stopped stirring his noxious black cauldron, and grinned at her. “What have we here?” Its beady black eyes swept up and down her golden dress. It reached a twisted claw-like hand out, its green nails encrusted in black grime.
“I’m sorry, wrong room.” She backed up, bumping into a fearsome fat one with a stretched out fork and bulbous eyes that crossed and uncrossed as they tried to focus on her.
“Not so fast.” He touched the fur lined edge of her heavy cloak with greasy fingers. “Pretty.” He stroked over her shoulder and down her back. “Pretty, pretty,” he said, breathing hot, rotten breath into her face.
She backed up, but there was nowhere to go. Goblins closed in from every corner, and the door she’d come in was now blocked by leering, yellow-green faces.
The twisted one’s fists clenched at its sides and it moved closer, its fire-lit shadow leaping tall across the room. “I saw her first. Mine.” It abandoned its stirring and jabbed the dripping ladle at the fat goblin.
Bryanna stepped to the side, attempting to evade both of the creatures’ scrabbling hands. Something squished under her foot. It shrieked and slid away. A large rat raced across the room, taking shelter behind a large cage over-filled with rodents.
The goblins held still, staring at her with accusing eyes. Nothing moved, except for the emaciated whippet across the room running on his squeaky track, rotating a spit skewering the biggest hog she’d ever seen.
“I’m sorry,” she said, backing towards the door. Orange-dreadlocks grinned, his flabby lips pulling back, revealing sharp, yellowed fangs. “Get her.”
Someone snatched her lantern. Grasping fingers tugged off her cloak and she dropped her napkin filled with her left-over breakfast. There was a sharp yank on her skirt and the sound of fabric tearing. She spun around, and snatched her dress from the claws of a goblin and backed into the wall.
“I knew he kept something over there. Delicious.” The twisted one smacked its lips. Extending a grimy talon it pulled down the shoulder of her dress. She slapped it away, and it hit back. Her head rebounded off of the wall and her vision spun in and out of black. The dress tore, shredding down and exposing her breast.
“Stop it!” she shouted, but the goblins leered and grabbed more fabric, rending the dress down. They tore off her corset and left her nothing but her thin, torn chemise.
Foot-long fork tines pushed into her belly. “Ah, we’ll feast tonight!”
She struggled to get away, but there was nowhere to go.
CHAPTER TEN
Bryanna cringed away from the chortling goblins wishing now she’d listened to Kian’s warnings. Fingers came at her from all sides, claws seized what remained of her chemise, and ripped.
The door slammed against the wall. A dark, hairy shadow burst into the room and roared, the sound reverberated through the room, hurting her eardrums. The large orange-haired goblin bellowed back, his gaping, yellow lips shaking with the sound.
Bryanna stared through the greasy, smoky air, trying to see this new threat. Then realized the new monster, ripping his way through the shrieking, screaming crowd, was Kian. He picked up goblins and hurled them aside, working his way through the melee and over to Bryanna. Bodies crashed into walls. Pots and pans clanged. A goblin flew by her face, its mouth wide and screaming. It landed in the hearth and knocked the cauldron to the floor. Bubbling stew spewed out. Bryanna and the other goblins scrambled to get out of the way.
The orange-haired leader picked up a bloody cleaver and turned on Kian. Roaring, they faced off for battle.
It was over almost before it had begun.
The large goblin advanced, cleaver in hand. Kian lashed out, his claws slashing into his opponent’s arm. The goblin screamed, pulled back, and raised his weapon. Kian’s movements blurred faster. The goblin’s arm came down. Kian ducked, and came up behind him. His long wolfish jaw opened and he bit the back of the goblin’s neck. Green blood sprayed as Kian shook the limp, six-foot tall body back and forth, its rag-doll dreadlocks whipping side-to-side.
Kian gave their leader one last, hard shake. Something cracked and he threw the limp body to the side. The bloody cleaver hit the floor with a clang.
Wails of despair rose from the crowd, but no one moved. The creature lifted hi
s muzzle to the ceiling and roared, his fangs glinting red in the reflected firelight. Moaning goblins dropped to the floor, and abased themselves in the blackened grease and crumbs.
“Kian.” She barely breathed his name. This was the man she’d spent the night making love to? This gory, angry, thing, she wasn’t sure even knew who she was?
He shook his head, blood spattering from his tusks. His eyes glowed hot, and he growled, advancing toward her.
“Wait,” she said, shaking and backing away, tripping over the prostate form of a goblin.
“Come,” he growled and swept her off her feet. He threw her over his shoulder, stooping low to scoop up her pile of clothes. They stepped through the open door where Beezel cringed in the corner of the hall.
Kian carried her down the corridor. The sharp points of his claws pricked her thighs and the bones of his shoulder pushed hard in her stomach. She lifted her head and saw Beezel close the door and drop the bar into place behind them.
“I can explain,” she started, but he cut her off.
“Don’t speak.” His voice shook. “My control is thin in this shape.”
She kept silent on the trip through the corridors, until they entered her room. He tossed her on the bed, dumping her shredded dress and cloak to the floor. She bounced back up. “I’m sorry, I had no idea they would be right there. I thought…”
“You didn’t think.” It came out as a near-growl. “I warned you.”
“I was trying to find a door to the outside, to see if I could leave.”
“Leave?” He leaned in close, his tusks nearly grazing her cheeks. “You are never leaving! It’s too dangerous for someone as soft and delicious as you. You’ll never make it without me.” He paced away, as if his rage wouldn’t let him hold still. “And I am never letting you go!”
“Kian, no!” She scrambled to get off the bed, but he leaned in, too close, again. She pressed back against the headboard, away from the smell of goblin blood and rage.
“Count yourself lucky you didn’t find the door,” he hissed. “There are worse things outside than the goblins. The White Queen, trolls, creatures that you’ve never dreamt existed.”
He picked up her broken door and backed out of the room, wedging it in its casing.
Bryanna huddled on the bed. The man who had brought her to ecstasy the night before was again her jailer. And now he’d declared she was never leaving.
The ghostly traces of Bryanna’s sobs trailed after Kian, echoing in his ears as he fled the scene of her imprisonment. Pale figures of hobgoblins scurried down the hall in his wake as he strode faster and faster, trying to outrun his anger, outrun his fears. He turned a corner, balled his paw into a fist, and punched the door to an empty chamber, over and over, until its splintered remains lay askew and his flesh was bruised and throbbing.
“Damn her!”
How could he want to fuck her and kill her at the same time?
Misery overwhelmed him, and he sank down to his haunches and buried his head in his arms. Last night he’d had it all. A sexy, charming bed partner. His own body. Hope. Now he had nothing and Bryanna had only fear in her eyes when she’d flinched away from him and this monstrous shape.
She’d been trying to leave.
He huddled in the cold long enough that the hobgoblins crept back, clustering a few feet away as if in comfort.
“Your Highness?” Beezel’s bare, bubbled toes paused in front of him.
Kian sighed. “What?”
Beezel fitted a torch into a wall sconce. “I’ve sealed off that corridor of goblins again. We shouldn’t have any more trouble from that area. If you like, we could still go and kill them off.”
“No. They may not be much, but they’ll muster a defense of the warren if it ever comes to it.”
If it comes to it.
“Yes, Sire.” Beezel bowed and left, fading into the dark beyond the torch’s flickering light.
Kian squatted in the shadows of what he had finally come to realize might be his home forever.
He’d fantasized for so long of finally leaving here, gathering his forces, and confronting his mother, that it had felt like reality when he’d had his own body last night. Good and right. Something inevitable that nothing could take away. He’d wasted his few hours in his own skin enjoying Bryanna and the strange elation that coursed through him while touching her, talking to her, dreaming of her.
Now he was paying for his pleasures.
The opening he’d felt deep inside his chest, that made him want to cling to her, no matter what, was obviously not real. She’d abandoned him without a word. And who could blame her?
He choked back the wail of despair working its way up from the pressure and ache in the center of his chest. He was back to being cursed and if the spell they’d worked together couldn’t destroy it, what could? They’d sealed it with his own blood, and sex. Would nothing break his mother’s power?
His follower’s scattered or killed, his own Gift used against him, and now a loss so keen he didn’t know if he could recover.
But he had no choice.
If any of his followers remained alive, he owed it to them to continue. None were safe until the queen had been removed from power. Nothing would stand between the queen’s worsening insanity and their people. He’d seen that quite clearly when he’d paid the price of rebellion.
He couldn’t stop. Even if he wanted to. He had to try again to become a man. And he needed Bryanna to help him because this was the closest he’d gotten to success in fifteen years of failures. He wasn’t going to let her give up. All he needed was for her to try one last time.
One last time.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Bryanna paced the perimeter of the dining room for the tenth time, waiting, as the candles dripped low and dinner grew cold. She paused at the fireplace, and traced the now familiar cracks in the rose-veined marble. She glowered across the room at the door, waiting for Kian to show.
He was brave enough to face goblins, but not brave enough to face her? Coward.
Beezel had set the table for two and left to fetch his master. He hadn’t come back.
Even if Kian was a beast, she was determined to eat a last meal with him. He’d saved her from the goblins. It was the least she could do, and it might lull his suspicions. After all, he would be pissed at her when he found out she was gone. And she would be gone. She couldn’t stay here any longer, she had to escape.
Meandering back to the table, she stared into a candle’s flickering light. He’d scared her today. Last night, he’d been someone different, someone she wanted to get to know. But today, the angry aggressive animal who’d growled and clawed and fought off the goblins was frightening. He’d made it clear he didn’t care about her family, didn’t care about her feelings or needs.
The flame blurred. Since she was such a failure of a witch, she’d never cure his curse. She’d be stuck here forever if she didn’t escape soon.
She gripped the back of a chair and willed her tears away. As a man, Kian had been different, his laughter a thing of golden light, lifting her up and spreading through her in a way she’d never thought a man’s laughter could. He’d shared a piece of himself. But now she suspected it was all a ruse. He was a monster, only interested in her Gift. Willing to resort to violence to keep her here. Willing to break his word.
A memory rose up, Kian kissing her, stroking her, leaning over her. His gleaming, violet eyes capturing hers, willing her to greater pleasure, up and up until she came, clutching at his shoulders, her nails digging in as she cried out.
She swallowed, and closed her eyes. Somewhere, underneath the self-centered beast, he might be someone worth caring for. More than an animal, more than an elf, more than the enemy of the queen. Before she left, she owed it to herself to see if the man she’d caught a glimpse of last night was buried under the fur and teeth and claws of Kian’s beast.
At least then she’d know what she was leaving behind.
“Miss?�
��
Bryanna startled. Beezel stood next to her, too close, staring at her. Two weeks and she still wasn’t used to the way you could nearly see through his eyes. She rubbed the rising hairs on her bare arms and stepped away, putting a more comfortable space between herself and the gnome. “What is it?”
“I’m afraid his highness won’t be joining you.” He walked to where she’d sat for the last two weeks, far from the other place setting that waited for Kian. “Would you like to be seated and eat?” He pulled out the chair and waited for her to sit.
She stared at the food laid out on the table. It smelled delicious. She wasn’t hungry, but she’d need her strength if she was to have any opportunity of escape.
“Yes, fine. Whatever.” She walked to where her place had been laid out. “Beezel?”
“Yes miss?”
“If the locked door at the other end of the warren is filled with goblins, how do you get all of this?” She waved at the food.
“The queen granted us some magic, miss. And I sometimes bring back supplies from court.”
A fist squeezed her heart tight. She stared at him and gasped for breath. “You’re not trapped here?” she wheezed. Kian had misled her.
“Don’t make that mistake, miss. I’m more trapped here than His Highness.”
She’d been so busy, focused on the spell, that she hadn’t bothered to find out any information about the gnome. Because she’d been sure she was leaving. “But you go in and out,” she said. “There must be a way for me to leave.”
He shrank into himself. “You can’t go that way. It’s a keyed portal. It only takes me to the Black Court.” His skin went a sickly green. “You don’t want to go there. They would kill you. Or worse.”
“But there must be another way out of here, one that doesn’t go through goblins or to the queen’s court.”
Prince by Blood and Bone: A Fantasy Romance of the Black Court (Tales of the Black Court) Page 10