On the far side of the garden, semi-transparent and transposed over a wing of the castle, was the Warlord’s fortress, a solid gray monstrosity with a perpetual dark cloud hanging over it — yes, literally a dark cloud! That was where she called home. Not necessarily by choice, but certainly by occupation. And hopefully not for much longer.
But that wasn’t her destination. Instead, she headed to an overgrown part of the garden where only the most desperate of fae ventured.
Riley didn’t think herself desperate. Not yet. If given a moment to think, she was sure she’d be able to figure out a new lead on the thief — perhaps checking for surveillance cameras in the courtyard and seeing if any other fae had been there with her, the thief, and Mr. Sexy. But the king had commanded she visit the Sibyl, so visit the Sibyl she must.
For some reason, the creation of the Golden Court hadn’t been perfect — which was no doubt a thorn in His Majesty’s side — and a sliver of the core of all magic, the focused primal energy of the universe, constantly leaked into the dome. Most fae called it wild magic. It was stronger, more powerful and more concentrated than regular magic. Others claimed, since it was rumored to be more commonly used in the Shadow Court, that it was dark magic, the dark heart of the universe.
Regardless, it was ferocious power without the control of words and runes, and it was dangerous to harness. And not just deadly dangerous. It twisted what little was left of a fae’s soul and turned them dark and wild, even darker than most members of the Shadow Court.
And here she was, going to the only fae who harnessed this wild magic trickling into the Golden Court and was permitted to stay. Riley couldn’t figure out if the Sibyl was so powerful that King Rian feared evicting her, or if he kept her around for other reasons. He hardly paid her any attention, and as much as he struggled to channel the wild magic around her into his uniform and manicured garden, it never stayed that way for long.
The boundary of the wild magic was marked with a wrought-iron gate and fence, its bars twisted and corroded with age and dark intent. The lines of iron no longer matched up, and the structure didn’t appear as if it could keep anything out — or anything in — and yet when she put her hand on the gate to swing it open, it was heavy, solid, and stuck.
She added her other hand and put her weight behind the effort, her palm sizzling against the iron. It looked like the Sibyl hadn’t been visited, at least by such mundane means, for a long time, and Riley was certain it hadn’t been the Sibyl who’d jammed her gate. The only other time Riley had met the crazy fae, many years ago when she’d just been a child, the woman hadn’t cared about who came and went in her garden. If she didn’t want to talk to someone, she’d hide the path to her house.
The gate groaned. Riley’s flesh burned with searing agony. Then metal on metal shrieked and the gate started to move.
Thank the Lord and Lady.
She shoved the gate open just enough to slip through and staggered to the other side, her hand curled tight to her chest, waiting for the pain to subside. She was going to have to deal with that before returning to the human realm. Especially if she was going to end up in a fist fight with Mr. Sexy again.
Beyond the gate lay an overgrown garden in perpetual twilight. The remains of King Rian’s last attempt to tame the wild land. Vines in dark greens, blues, and purples, thick with thorns, covered the ground and wound around statues. Their crimson blooms filled the air with a heavy perfume half reeking of sulfur and half reminding her of another intoxicating scent that she was doing her damnedest to forget… and failing miserably.
Jeez. Ten minutes with the man, and she’d lost her mind. He must have used his charm on her and been so powerful she hadn’t felt the usual pressure in her head when a fae was trying to charm her.
Which was just wonderful. Usually most fae resisted the genetic compulsion to charm her because she was an abomination. Unless, of course, they saw her as a challenge or a conquest or a way to win a bet.
That had to be it. He was a Shadow Court asshole and had purposefully used his charm on her.
It was the only explanation for why she’d suddenly become obsessed with him. Heck, she didn’t even know his name.
And she had no desire to learn it—
Desire…
Jeez.
She stepped onto a barely there path and headed deeper into the garden, trying not to think about him. Dark weeds swayed in a breeze that she couldn’t feel, and when she passed, they changed direction, straining to reach her, beautiful in an alien, might-be-trying-to-eat-you kind of way. The scent of sulfur grew stronger, and the electric spark of wild magic crackled over her skin, dangerous yet alluring, making the hair on the back of Riley’s neck stand on end. Except that had to be the fact that she was drawing closer to the one fae who could see inside her soul and the one the other fae— Who was she kidding? The one fae the king feared.
The Sibyl had gifts that hadn’t been seen among the fae for generations — and in fae terms, that was a long time. She could foresee the future, but she also knew where any fae was at any given time. Both gifts could have come in handy for Riley given her occupation, but she suspected they came from the wild magic and wasn’t willing to risk her sanity for that kind of information.
She brushed through the thick overgrowth, following a narrow dirt path to the Sibyl’s hut. It looked the same as she remembered. Small, on the verge of falling over, and reeking of mold, decay, and sulfur.
Of all the things the Sibyl could have imagined, a hut was where she chose to live. And it was her choice. She had control over this wild magic garden in the Golden Court. She could have envisioned a palace or a temple or something. Anything would have been better than a six-by-six-by-six shack that looked like it would fall over in a strong wind.
Riley reached to push open the door, and a shiny gold knocker materialized before she made contact. Guess she needed to ask for an invitation. She didn’t remember the knocker from before, but then, she’d been a child and Queen Orlaith had brought her. Clearly, there were different rules for royalty than there were for half-human bounty hunters.
Grabbing the knocker, she drew it back but hesitated. What were the odds that the rickety door would survive the impact?
“Oh, for the sake of all that’s good in the universe, come in,” a sharp voice called from inside.
The door jerked open, and the knocker was ripped from Riley’s grip.
Within, the shack was still a shack. The last time she’d been here, the room inside had been enormous, a vault, dark and barren like a crypt, and without end. Now it was just what it seemed, a cramped shack filled with the sulfuric reek of the Sibyl’s pheromones — swirling in a billowing yellow cloud around the Sibyl — that let in a cold wind that hadn’t existed outside.
“Riley, Riley, Riley.” The Sibyl said her name as if it were a sentence filled with meaning, except it was a meaning only she could understand.
“I—”
“You need to find someone.” The Sibyl eased onto a stool that had been hidden behind her, masked by the voluminous folds of her oversized potato-sack dress. More sulfur wafted through the room, and a hiss of wind smacked Riley in the face, thin but still sharp.
“His Majesty has—”
“No idea what he wants.” The Sibyl brushed a lock of matted gray hair out of her dark eyes, revealing a face that at one moment appeared ancient and another youthful.
“Could I get a word in edgewise?”
“But your thoughts are so loud.” The lock fell forward again, and half her face became ancient while the other half remained youthful.
“Swell.” And immediately Riley’s thoughts jumped to Mr. Sexy. She blushed and fought to banish them before the Sibyl could hear them — if she could, in fact, hear them. Except Riley had no idea how to fully clear her mind, as if Mr. Sexy was there whether she wanted to be thinking of him or not… and damn, she wanted to be thinking of him, and seeing him and—
“Oh, ho,” the Sibyl cackled,
her laugh like fingers on a chalkboard.
Shit.
“You really are looking for someone.”
“Yes, a thief.” Mr. Sexy was not someone she wanted to talk about with anyone, let alone the crazy Sibyl.
The Sibyl tsked and sneered. “I don’t want to talk about thieves, although…”
The wind howled, making the shack shudder.
“Although this one may be a thief, too.”
“Right, well, I’m looking for the thief who’s stolen the Seal,” Riley said, trying but not hoping she could get the Sibyl on the right topic.
“The Seal’s been stolen?” The Sibyl’s eyes widened in fear, but Riley wasn’t certain if the fear was real or mocking. “What will the king do?”
Definitely mocking her. Wonderful. “It’s not what our king will do, but the King of the Shadow Court. That’s why I need to know where the thief is.”
“I don’t know about a thief.”
“You just said—”
“What thief? Someone stole something?” the Sibyl asked.
“The Seal of Morrowen.” There wasn’t time for this. The thief could have made the handoff to his employer already and that would only make it harder to find the Seal.
“The Seal was stolen?”
“Yes.” Jeez. This was like talking to a wall. No, a wall wouldn’t be so obtuse. “The Golden King asked me to find the thief.”
“What thief?”
Oh, my God!
“The thief you said you knew something about.”
“I know what I said.” The Sibyl straightened her filthy potato-sack dress, doing nothing to improve her appearance.
“Please?” This had to be some kind of punishment. Really. King Rian couldn’t have thought talking to this woman would be helpful. It was only wasting time.
“Please?” A hint of a wicked smile curled at the corner of the Sibyl’s lips. “What do you have to offer me?”
Ah…?
This was new.
Usually the Sibyl didn’t care why people came to her. Riley had always thought ridiculing them was the payment.
“I can… ah…” What the heck would the Sibyl want? Without any real standing in the Golden Court Riley didn’t have much to give.
“Offer me something,” the Sibyl said. “What is the Seal worth to you?”
Everything. Her freedom… unless King Rian had been lying to her. And she wouldn’t put that past him. But she couldn’t ignore the slim possibility that she’d be free of him and the Warlord. What could she possibly give in exchange for that?
“Surely you have something.” The Sibyl cocked her head then kept stretching her neck until she was bent to the side and glaring at Riley. “Don’t you have something?”
Not really.
“A secret, maybe?”
What secret?
“I know you have a secret.”
Jeez. What the hell was this fae getting at?
The Sibyl jerked close and grabbed the front of Riley’s coat. “Tell me a secret!”
“I ah…”
The Sibyl wrenched back, plopped onto the stool and revealed her ruined and blackened teeth in what had to be a grin. “Tell me your secret, girl.”
“The Seal has been stolen.” It was the first thing that jumped into her mind. Maybe the crazy fae had forgotten.
The Sibyl huffed. “That’s not a secret. Your thoughts… now that’s your secret.”
Riley hadn’t thought she’d been thinking anything.
“So dirty. So… shadowy. Now that’s a secret.”
Shit. Heat flooded her face. The Sibyl had to be talking about Mr. Sexy. Why couldn’t Riley get him out of her head? She hadn’t even been thinking anything about him—
Except she had. Deep in the recesses of her mind from the moment she’d smelled him, she’d been thinking of him. There were things she yearned to do with Mr. Sexy, things she wanted him to do to her—
She clamped down on those thoughts, and the Sibyl pouted.
“Don’t stop now. You’ve almost shared enough to earn your freedom.”
Riley’s heart skipped a beat. “So the king will keep his word?”
The Sibyl chuckled. “I’ll tell you that for another secret, but you still haven’t satisfied the terms of your first deal.” She clicked her tongue. “And without the first deal there’s no point in a second deal. First deal. Second deal.” She clapped three times and the wind in the shack gusted. “First deal. Second deal.” clap clap clap. “First deal—”
“Okay. The first deal.” The Sibyl could have her thoughts. If she couldn’t present some form of new information to King Rian, he might not let her return to the human realm to catch the thief and then there certainly wouldn’t be a chance for a second deal with the Sibyl.
“I’m waiting,” the Sibyl said.
“Okay.” Except Riley’s mind had gone blank.
The Sibyl glared at her. “No secret. No information.”
“Just give me a minute.”
“You hadn’t needed a minute before.”
Yeah, but that was before their circular, frustrating conversation.
Okay. Come on. Think about Mr. Sexy. His broad chest and shoulders. The feel of his hard muscle beneath his Henley, the hungry look in his eyes, and his scent… oh that glorious scent. Dark, musky, masculine. It had been like velvet sliding over her senses, igniting a sensual burn deep within her.
She wanted to know the taste of his lips, wanted him to taste her. He was strength and power and shadow. Dangerous in every way, particularly dangerous to a fae with her tenuous standing in the Golden Court, and a part of her didn’t care. She craved that danger, craved the powerful sensations his scent promised, and shivered just at the idea.
It was pure fantasy. Yes, there’d been sudden, electric attraction between them, but without another encounter, she wasn’t sure the feeling went both ways. And even if it did, he was a member of the Shadow Court. It could only be a fling.
But what a fling that could be.
She could imagine his powerful body pressed tight against her, filling her, driving into her, bringing her to screaming climax again and again and—
She clamped down on that thought. “That’s enough.”
The Sibyl’s pout returned. “You were just getting to the good part.”
A part that was, if she was smart, too dangerous to fantasize about. Earning her freedom was a big enough desire. She had to remember Mr. Sexy could get in the way of all that. Besides, reality wasn’t fantasy. As good as he smelled, he might be terrible in bed.
The Sibyl snorted. “Now you’re just fooling yourself.”
Yeah well, better that than desiring something she couldn’t have.
Except that only made her chest ache.
Even if her king had commanded it, visiting the Sibyl had been a bad idea. “Can you please just tell me where the thief is?”
The wind vanished, and the Sibyl sat forward. She blinked, and a smear of colors, like oil on water in sunlight, swirled in her eyes. “You should go to the three hundred and fifteenth apartment of the twenty-ninth building.”
Even after embarrassing herself and being forced to realize the truth about her reality, the Sibyl was still playing games. But it was foolish to expect anything less. “The three hundred and fifteenth apartment.”
“Of the twenty-ninth building.”
“And where would I find this building?”
The Sibyl gave her a hard look. “On Elm Street, of course.”
“Of course.”
“But you’re not sure you want to find this thief of your heart anymore. Although I’m not sure how much of your heart was involved in those thoughts.” The Sibyl chuckled and showed Riley her disgusting teeth again. “Funny how just sharing your thoughts makes you change your thoughts. First you want to find this fantasy man, then you don’t.”
“No, I don’t want to find Mr.—” Riley bit her lip. She was about to say Mr. Sexy. Not that the fae hadn’t alread
y heard it in Riley’s thoughts. But thoughts were one thing and calling him that out loud was just another foolishness on top of all her other foolishness. “I need to find the thief who stole the Seal.”
“I’m sure you do, dear,” the Sibyl said, her tone implying that she didn’t believe Riley. “You go back to that big city you were just in and go to Elm Street.”
“And I’ll find the thief who stole the Seal?”
“Without a doubt.”
“Great.”
“Now what are you doing standing here?”
Before Riley could respond, the Sibyl flailed her arms around her head, sending waves of sulfurous air billowing around her. It burned Riley’s eyes and the back of her throat. She coughed and blinked back tears and between blinks, from one moment to the next, the shack and the Sibyl and her cloud of reeking yellow air disappeared. Nothing remained. No indication that a shack had ever stood in the middle of the wild garden. Only the garden itself, with its strange weeds and permanent twilight, gave any testament that wild magic seeped through the bubble of the Golden Court realm and corrupted it.
Riley shivered and wiped a remaining tear from her eye. When she went to Twenty-nine Elm Street, was she going to find the thief of the Seal or a thief of her heart.
Chapter Five
Couper threw open the doors to his king’s private garden and stormed outside, his pulse racing and his insides churning. The God damned case had sent him into the human realm, a place he swore he’d never return to, and he’d barely managed to return to the Shadow Court without losing his grip on his charm and throwing half a dozen humans into screaming insanity. Barely.
But that wasn’t the worst of it.
Lord and Lady it wasn’t. After fighting the King of the Golden Court’s half-human bounty hunter and losing the thief on the subway, he’d relocated back home. He’d hoped to regroup and see if Warren, Techno-fae Extraordinaire — the fae’s self-proclaimed title — had identified the picture Couper had taken of the thief, but he couldn’t clear his thoughts of her, couldn’t think past anything but her.
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