by Lexi Blake
“Fine. The ogre was ours,” he conceded. “It’s lived in the woods outside of Angus’s stronghold for as long as anyone can remember. It served a purpose there as a sort of defense mechanism. We’ve always made sure he was properly taken care of. We fed him regularly and even treated him with condemned prisoners to feast upon. He had a good life.”
“Nice,” I said, but my sarcasm was wasted on him. “So ogre boy is living the high life but he just up and leaves one day? Maybe he got lonely and went looking for an ogress to call his own.”
“It doesn’t work that way. He wouldn’t think to seek a mate. He would take a female if we managed to produce one, but he wouldn’t leave to look for one. You must understand that the ogre is first and foremost a stupid creature. It’s a miracle that it ever learned how to wield a club as a weapon. It doesn’t think beyond eating and taking a nice long nap.”
I kept my mouth closed because he could easily be talking about Lee, too.
“It does nothing on its own.” Herne’s long legs ate up the distance, and I jogged to keep up. He was dressed in brown pants made from some sort of animal skin and a linen shirt. He had tall leather boots on and a cape with a hood over his shoulders though it was a warm evening.
“So it probably wouldn’t have gone for a long walk and crossed into the Seelie sithein?”
“No, Zoey,” Herne said with a frown. “It wouldn’t leave its territory on its own. It must have had help from someone.”
Things started to fall into place. There was only one real reason to smuggle in an ogre. “It had help from someone who wanted to start something with the Seelie.”
“If by something, you mean the war to end all wars, then yes, they wished to start something.”
“Yeah,” I commented. “We had one of those wars to end all wars on the Earth plane. Didn’t live up to the name. We’re still fighting.”
“Well, you did not do it right, then. I assure you, when the fighting starts this time, we will kill them all and they intend to do the same to us,” Herne said bitterly. “We Fae tend to be thorough.”
“Why?” Not even Dev had been able to explain the real animosity between the two tribes. Declan had personal reasons, but there were Seelies who had never even met an Unseelie yet they called for their blood at the merest provocation. “I know you’re different but you come from the same place. Why do you hate each other so much?”
He stopped. We’d reached the start of the forest. We’d been walking for thirty or forty minutes and now he pulled out a flask and settled down on the ground. “Sit for a moment, Your Grace. We still have much ground to cover.” I dropped down beside him, and after a moment he began to speak. He took a long drink but didn’t offer it to me. I was betting it wasn’t water. “I think it’s a lot of things that cause our hatred. My people are straightforward. They say what they mean and mean what they say. The Seelie are anything but. They play with a person mentally. They compliment, but their words have two meanings. They skirt the definition of a lie. We don’t understand them so we keep ourselves apart in a way we didn’t when we were all on the Earth plane.”
“A couple of years back I met a group of faeries who claimed to be Tuatha Dé Danann.” The Tuatha Dé Danann were a legendary group of Fae who led the second settling of Ireland and who, if you believed the legends, left the Earth plane altogether when they were defeated in battle. Well, most of them left. The ones who stayed behind built the mounds attached to the Earth plane, like the one I was sitting in. The Tuatha Dé Danann had traveled by passing through the veil between worlds. It was a talent that had been lost to this plane.
Herne grunted, a manly sound. “We haven’t seen nor heard from the old ones in many a generation. Why were they on the Earth plane?”
It was my turn to skirt around certain issues. “They were traveling, you know. Doing that thing where they pass through the veil. They were moving a transference box from one tribe to another. I helped them out.” I hadn’t really. I’d stolen the transference box, which had been full of magic passed on to the tribe as a gift. Daniel and I had accidentally primed said stolen box, which took the gift and formed a living creature from the magic. I skipped over that part, though. It wasn’t my shining moment in life. “Why did the tribes here stay behind? Why would someone like the Hunter not follow the old ones?”
“I was born in my sithein.” His eyes studied the forest around him. “It was many years after the old ones left us behind, and the ones who can remember the time rarely speak of it. I have two theories on the matter. One is that the Fae left behind were weak and the mighty ones didn’t want the weak to contaminate their tribes on the new planes.”
“That’s awful.” It didn’t go along with the impression I had of the older faeries. They’d been just when dealing with me. They could have simply killed us all, but they’d taken the time to hear me out. I’d been weak, but they healed me. I still thought often of the small magical child they had taken with them to their plane. Sometimes that baby girl haunted my dreams, a vision of what Daniel and I could have had.
I shook off that old ache.
“My other theory has to do with my god,” Herne continued thoughtfully. “The Hunter isn’t weak. He’s the spirit of the hunt. He came into existence on the Earth plane and he must return from time to time. He’s connected to the plane on a base level. You see, Zoey, the non-corporeal gods who stayed behind all had a deep connection to something on the Earth plane. The Hunter is connected to the forest and the predators of this plane. Bris is connected to the fields and the women of the Earth plane. Arawn is probably more connected than any of the others.”
Now I found that name in my brain’s repository and I sent a startled look to the faery. “The Welsh god Arawn is in the Unseelie sithein? The death god?”
Herne nodded as though he was just a guy he hung out with, not a person who used to be the Lord of all things Dead. “Oh, yes, his host is my best friend. He’s a funny man. Not at all what you would expect the death god’s host to be. But my point is he needs humans the same way Bris needs the fields of his birth and the Hunter needs his forests. Perhaps we stayed behind because we were more connected to the Earth plane.”
It made sense. What good could a death god be if he was always surrounded by the immortal? Herne was proving to be a veritable fount of knowledge and I was curious. I had questions I hadn’t gotten around to asking Dev about the god who now shared his body and our bed. “Did you choose the Hunter?”
“Oh, no,” he replied. “A host does not choose his god. We open ourselves and if our magic is compatible, then we’re accepted. There is a ceremony, but it changes from god to god. My ceremony was a hunt. I tracked a mountain troll who’d gone insane and begun to kill for no reason. We fought for days, but I was victorious. I cut out its heart and when I feasted, the Hunter came into me.”
“Eww, that’s way grosser than what Dev had to do.” What Dev had to do had been me.
Herne’s smile was all masculine appreciation now. “Yes, well, we can’t all be that lucky. You should have had an Unseelie witness, you know. He’s our priest, as well. I heard Devinshea’s challenge was a pleasant experience for all concerned. Though you should know, it wasn’t your technique that tempted the fertility god to inhabit Dev.”
“What do you think attracted Bris?” The way I understood it, it was Dev’s magic that called to the fertility god, but I was certainly interested in hearing what Herne thought.
“According to the Hunter, Bris has had many chances to bond with a host. In the end, it isn’t merely the magic that calls to the god, but also the personality and life of the host. Bris is concerned with love and passion. The Hunter tells me that when Bris was corporeal, he had but one goddess and he loved her with all his heart. He seeks to feel that again, though he must feel that through his host now. Bris turned down several when he realized they would use the magic he gave them to attract many women. None of the previous hosts wanted a settled life. Dev is the odd man with se
x magic who is willing to settle down.”
I smiled brightly, feeling better about the god in my husband. “It’s nice to know Bris isn’t a player.”
Herne looked confused. “Sometimes when you speak, I don’t understand you.”
“Well, Herne, I think you’ve spent too much time in the forest. The next time you hit the Earth plane, you’ll have to visit Dallas and I’ll show you around. I can even set you up on a date.” I had several female werewolves begging to be set up. I was turning out to be quite the matchmaker. “Unless there’s a lady huntress, of course.”
Herne snorted his frustration at that thought. “Are you kidding me? Do you know how hard it is to get a date with this man inside me? He isn’t smooth. He doesn’t know how to talk to women and he won’t listen to my advice. I’m a strong, talented warrior. I have the spirit of the hunt coursing through my body and…”
“You can’t get laid,” I finished for him.
“I can’t. Even Arawn has a girlfriend.” He stood up and lent me a hand.
“We’ll have to work on that, Herne,” I promised with a smile. He turned all kinds of serious now as he helped me to my feet.
“I must leave you, Zoey. The time has come to walk the forest, and he prefers to be in control. This is his place of power.” Herne smiled down on me. “Don’t take offense. As I said before, he doesn’t know how to deal with women. I’ve enjoyed my time with you. Don’t judge me by his actions.”
The Hunter was now staring down at me. He looked me up and down and there was disapproval all over his face. “Is there a reason you chose to be naked in my presence, Your Grace?”
I looked down to make sure everything was covered. I didn’t have anything hanging out, so I wasn’t sure what the problem was. The tank top was even black so I knew he couldn’t see anything I didn’t want him to see. “This is what I wear when I go hunting. It’s very Tomb Raider.”
“I can see all of your limbs,” the Hunter noted as his eyes roamed across my body. “And much of your skin. It looks creamy and soft in the moonlight. It makes me want to rip off what little clothing you have on and pound myself into your softness.”
Okay, ewww. “I wouldn’t try it if I were you.”
“I am not going to do it. Prince Devinshea is a friend. I wouldn’t dishonor him in such a fashion. I just thought you should know that dressing like a trollop has an effect on men. If you want to be treated like the lady you are then you should be properly covered.” On that pronouncement he began to hike. The black dogs followed along happily.
“Yes, because I don’t deserve respect for just being a human being,” I replied bitterly, following after him.
“Of course not.” The Hunter sounded pleased that I understood him.
“Can I get the other one back?” I grumbled more to myself than to him.
“No. I’m better in the woods. Why would you wish to be led by an inferior guide?”
“Well, he’s less of an asshole, for one,” I muttered.
“What does an anus have to do with…oh, you have insulted me,” he said with a frown, catching up. “Well, I did call you a trollop.”
“I’ve been called worse.”
“Let me ask you something, Your Grace.” The Hunter began to lead me through the heavily treed forest. “Are the knives for ornamentation?”
“No, the knives are for killing things.”
He stopped and looked at me like I was crazy. “Do you think I won’t care for you? I gave you my oath. Do you think I won’t defend you?”
“I’m hoping you will, but I’d like the opportunity to defend myself should the need arise,” I explained, surprised by the question.
“Your men don’t defend you?” His question was tinged with outrage. He lived in a different world.
I laughed at the thought. “My husbands spend altogether too much time defending me, but one of the ways they protect me is to teach me to defend myself.”
It was true for all the men in my life. My father hadn’t cared that I was a girl. He taught me his trade and he was the first to put a knife in my hand. Danny took me to the gun range and taught me everything I knew about guns. Devinshea spent time teaching me how to fight with a sword. It would never occur to them that I should be helpless simply because I was female. In their minds, I was more vulnerable and should damn well know how to strike back.
“Seelie noblewomen keep a knife on them so they may fall upon it if they are dishonored.”
I gaped at him. “Seriously? What the hell kind of women are they? And what man wants his woman to choose death over dishonor? Let me tell you something, Hunter, if someone raped me I wouldn’t feel any dishonor. You know what I would feel? I would feel pissed off. I would feel like revenge. And I know neither of my husbands would want me to cry and fall on my sword. They’ll take me ‘dishonored’ or not.”
The Hunter smiled slowly, the emotion tugging up one side of his mouth in approval. “You are not like Seelie women. You’re more like a goblin female.”
I wasn’t quite sure how to take that. “Well, if the goblins let their females defend themselves then I’d rather be a goblin.”
The Hunter laughed, and it was a surprisingly pleasant sound. “Oh, the goblin males quake in fear of their women when they’re angry. A goblin female in a rage is truly a sight to be seen.”
“Good to know.”
The Hunter’s eyes gleamed. “I just thought that Prince Devinshea’s bride would be a noblewoman. Though he always seemed more comfortable with human females, I assumed when the time came he would attempt to please his court and marry a proper Seelie.”
“I don’t think Dev married me for my good breeding.” He’d always liked the fact that I could take care of myself in a fight.
“Not at all.” The Hunter agreed far too readily for my satisfaction.
I wasn’t exactly poorly bred. I knew which fork to use. Albert had slapped my hand every time I used the wrong one until it finally sunk in. I tried to dress properly for an event. I couldn’t help it that I’d grown up with a thief for a dad, who was way more concerned with my professional skills than etiquette.
“I guess that’s why the nobles don’t like me.” It sounded pathetic even to my ears.
“You mistake me, Your Grace. I was not judging you poorly. I was merely reassessing you. I’ve been judging you based on the fact I thought you were trying to be a Seelie noblewoman. If you aren’t then I will judge you based on yourself. As I said before, you remind me of the goblin females of my acquaintance. They don’t wear many clothes, either. I apologize for thinking you were trying to tempt me into fornication. This is merely your traditional dress. I like you much more now that I realize you’re a straightforward female.”
“Well, good then,” I said. “I’m glad we got that out of the way. So someone lost an ogre and now you have to get him back? How exactly are you planning on making the ogre go back with you? Do you leave a bunch of detached body parts like a trail for it to follow back to the Unseelie sithein?”
The Hunter stared at the trees as though trying to select the easiest path to his destination. We veered left. “I hadn’t thought of that. It’s a good plan, though. You have a devious mind.”
“Dude, I was joking.”
“I’ve been wondering exactly how the culprits managed to get the ogre to follow them out of our sithein,” the Hunter explained. “You’ve given me a reasonable explanation. But taking the ogre back isn’t my mission.”
If he wasn’t going to take the ogre back to the Unseelie lands then that left only one possibility. “You’re going to kill it then?”
“Yes. I’m going to kill the ogre.”
His job would be easier if he’d brought along a few more people. It was just me, the Hunter and two dogs—albeit incredibly large dogs. He should have let me bring Danny along. I would put Danny up against an ogre any day of the week. It made me wonder why exactly he thought I would be helpful. I supposed it was the banshee prophecy. They said I c
ould stop the war and obviously the presence of an Unseelie ogre could start a war. I hoped how I was supposed to stop this would become clear to me.
The Hunter led me into a small clearing. There was a pond and the moonlight was reflected off it, giving the whole place a lovely silver glow. He looked around as the dogs sniffed the air and started to whine. “Yes, my friends, this will do nicely.”
“Okay.” I took a deep breath because I knew something was about to happen. I was about to meet my first ogre and I sincerely hoped I survived the experience. I knew I was risking a lot but I couldn’t sit by and let Dev die. What was I supposed to tell my child one day? Was he supposed to understand that I had a shot at saving his father’s life but chose to stay in bed? “What do you want me to do? How do I help you kill this thing?”
The Hunter chuckled, and he set his pack on the ground. He pulled out a long strand of thick rope. He walked toward me. “Your Grace, your job is simple.”
I found myself with my hands tied behind my back before I knew what was happening.
“I need bait,” the Hunter explained.
Chapter Thirteen
“You son of a bitch!” I shouted as he turned me around.
“I don’t think that applies,” the Hunter said seriously. I tried kicking him and caught him once on the shin before he stepped back and out of the way. It sucks being short. “I don’t think I had an actual physical mother so she couldn’t have been a bitch.”
“Fuck you.” Since he hadn’t tied my feet, I started to run as he let go of my arms.
“I thought we decided I shouldn’t do that.” He gave chase.
I didn’t get far. He was on me immediately, his big hands a vise around my waist. His body pressed against my back. He felt like granite. I struggled, but there was no way I was getting away from him. “Stop fighting me, Your Grace. I’m trying to keep you safe.”
“Keep me safe?” I practically shouted the question. “You’re going to keep me safe by tying me up and offering me to a flesh-eating ogre as some sort of human sacrifice?”