by Alex Rivers
She cleared her throat. “So, what did the doctor say?”
“I wouldn’t know. Didn’t see one.”
Her eyes widened. “Cass, you have to—”
“I don’t need a blood transfusion, or stitches, Scarlett. As long as my body can feed itself with fear, it’ll heal faster than with any medical treatment. And I can’t risk what they’d find in my blood.”
“Right.” She smiled weakly. She carefully took my hand, squeezing it. It hurt, and for the first time, I realized that the skin on my palm had blistered. I said nothing, appreciating her gentle touch anyway. How many times had we consoled each other over the years? We’d been there for each other in times of grief, of heartbreak, of anxiety. Our history had forged a bond, a connection that couldn’t be replaced. Scarlett’s presence soothed my heart.
“I missed you,” I whispered. “I want to go back home.”
“You will.” She smiled at me, a tear in her eye. “We’ll make it work.”
“I can’t leave things here as they are. I can’t abandon my friends. I don’t want to abandon Roan.”
“Maybe we can help. We don’t want a war, and we want to maintain the balance.”
I nodded, feeling tired, my mind blurry. It sounded like a good solution—a perfect solution, even. Maybe we couldn’t get an alliance with all the fae houses, but the CIA would be a powerful ally. With them tipping the scales, we could propose a truce. It was the best we could hope for at this point, the best way to ensure Roan would survive. The only way. “You’d help us?”
“Sure. For the safety of humanity, we need to retain control of the situation. We just need to understand the fae politics a bit more—to understand our allies. With your help, it’ll happen.”
“Good.” I glanced at my purse. The list I’d made for her lay hidden in there, and it was the first step to seal this alliance. A mixture of humans and fae—just like me. “You know that list you asked for?”
“Yeah?”
What was it that made me pause? The way she held her breath for a second? How her grip tightened, just a bit? Her eyes remained soft, loving, but I saw something else there.
We need to retain control.
How would they retain control, dealing with six different Unseelie courts, facing the political intricacies of the fae, and their strange customs, some completely foreign to humans? Scarlett meant well, but she didn’t really care about the fae. She cared about humans, about her own country. And who knew what the rest of her unit would do with this information? Every branch of the CIA, just like in the FBI, were victims of their own power struggles, of opposing political opinions, of factions, of personal enmities. Just like the fae.
“I’ll make the list soon,” I said. “When I get better.”
She nodded, a smile warming her face, and slipped something under the blanket. After she went, I slid it out and looked at it. It was a mobile phone, with a single contact in it. It said Scarlet - No Wiretap.
Wrapped in sheets that smelled of a mossy forest, I slept, my body healing. Roan stayed by my side, sleeping next to me at night, bringing me food and water. When I dreamed, it was of Roan sitting in his bedroom as a green-eyed boy, his hair a pale blond. With his wooden dolls by his side, he lay on the ground, flipping through the pages of an ancient book. Excited at what he was reading, he kicked his feet into the air. As he was reading, he reached out for one of the dolls—the one shaped like a woman, the one that reminded him of his mother—and he pulled it to him, tucking it under one arm as he read.
As I dreamed, a voice from the hollows of my mind demanded to know if I thought I still knew the most powerful emotion.
When I woke in the daylight again, my body didn’t hurt nearly as much as it had before. I only winced a little as I rolled over, facing Roan. Golden morning light streamed over his skin, illuminating his tattoos, his dark eyelashes, the chiseled planes of his face.
I loved Roan, yes. But could I really trust him with knowing everything I knew? Once he knew what terrifying weapons the humans had at their disposal, would he wage a pre-emptive war?
Scarlett’s loyalty lay with the humans, and Roan’s with the Unseelie. I was the only one stuck in between.
Chapter 19
“It’s time.” Roan’s voice was grave, dark.
I sat on the edge of his bed, my body still aching. I flinched, hating what was about to come, even if it was the only way. Idelisa had already packed my belongings and hightailed it out of the mansion before risking a run-in with Grendel. In fact, Roan and I were the only ones left here—the grim welcoming party for its new owner.
Even though I knew it was necessary, I couldn’t keep the scowl from my face, my mood bleak. “So… what, do we show him around? Tell him where to find the coffee maker?”
Grendel had refused to join the Unseelie Republic until the terms of the deal had been delivered—including Roan’s mansion.
“I’m sure he’ll find everything.” Roan was distracted, and I could feel almost overwhelming sadness emanating from him. His childhood home, given away. I felt a sharp twinge of guilt at focusing on my own bad mood. “But he wants to meet us in the library. We need his promise to uphold his part of the deal, and he wants to talk to us both.”
I nodded wearily. “Okay. Whatever you think is best.”
I winced as I rose, pain singing through my body. Roan slowed himself to my pace as we walked through his empty halls to the library.
When he opened the door, my breath caught at the beauty of it all, and the warm light streaming through the oculus onto the ornate rug. Colored light poured through the stained glass onto the empty bookshelves, the intricately decorated door frames. Without me even knowing it, this place had become a home to me, and I was about to lose it.
As Roan looked around at his former library, I could sense his desperate attempts to commit every detail to his memory forever. I tried to send him comfort through our bond, my support and love. He glanced at me, smiling, but I could see the sadness in his green eyes.
The door creaked open, and Grendel slipped inside, grinning with satisfaction. A bodyguard followed, holding an engraving of the Taranis coat of arms.
Grendel pointed to the emblem. “We’ll be removing all of those, of course.” He then opened his hands expansively. “Welcome to my library. Please. Make yourselves comfortable in my home. We have things to discuss.”
I heard Roan’s low growl, and I scowled. Can we just kill him now?
Grendel waved at the oak table. “Come. Sit down. Let’s talk.”
For a moment I thought Roan would toss the toad against a wall. Instead, he folded his arms. “I will stand, thank you.”
“If you must.” Grendel shrugged, dropping down into a chair. “Seems uncomfortable to me. But do what you feel like in my home.”
“Before I give you this house, I need your promise of support,” Roan said.
“Ah. Well… I need something else before I give you that.”
“We already agreed to the terms!” Roan’s voice rose in fury, and I could feel the temperature in the air dropping. “There will be no more—”
“It’s a small thing, really,” Grendel said, fingering the hole in his pelvic bone. “Just a little promise from your pixie friend.”
“What do you want?” I asked, frost coating my words.
“When we first met, you used iron against me,” Grendel said, and for a moment, I could see fury in his eyes, buried under the calm demeanor. “And when we last met, you threatened me with your powers of dread.”
I gave him a thin, mocking smile, saying nothing.
“I want your promise, that you will never use iron or your dread powers on me.”
“I don’t need iron anymore. I am the Mistress of Dread. It is who I am. I will not give any promise regarding my powers.”
“Indeed.” Grendel’s eyes met mine. “We are to be allies. Should I cooperate with you, knowing well that my life is being constantly threatened? No. Give me your word, o
r I leave now, and so will my court. You will not have your Republic.”
My lip curled. “Will you let the Seelie kill us all because you’re afraid of a woman?”
“Will you let the Unseelie die because of your pride?” Grendel countered.
My thoughts churned. A promise to a fae was binding. I wouldn’t be able to break it without giving Grendel power over me.
I had the feeling he would not back away from his demand. Grendel was one of the oldest fae in existence, and he hadn’t survived this long through weakness and stupidity. But I wouldn’t get very far by caving, either. Grendel’s power was immense. He could control water, could create floods and huge, destructive waves. He could drown the city of London.
“Very well,” I said. “But I’ll need a promise from you, not to use your magical powers against me. Or against my friends.”
A long, pointed tongue shot out, and he licked his lips. “Are you afraid I might make you wet?”
I suppressed my urge to gag. “Are you afraid of a little terror?”
A tense silence fell over us.
“Very well.” He nodded. “I will give you my word, if you do the same.”
I nodded. “Then I promise never to use iron or my powers of dread against you.”
“Good!” he grinned, rubbing his hands together. “And I promise my own magical powers will be used against enemies of the Unseelie, and only against them.”
I gritted my teeth, saying nothing. That promise would have to do.
Roan stepped forward, looming over Grendel. “I need your oath that you will support the Unseelie Republic.”
Grendel sighed, and rolled his eyes. “So many promises. It’s hard to keep track of them all. I promise to support the five courts of the Unseelie Republic.”
And with that, the alliance was complete.
Chapter 20
I sat glumly in the expansive hotel room, yearning for Roan’s dusty old library. Granted, the hotel room was beautiful—a wall of glass overlooking the city from the upper floors of the Shard, marble floors, dark leather furniture. But I wanted the smell of the ancient books, the oak bookcases several floors high, the faded rug soft beneath my feet.
It was Grendel’s now.
It was nearly midnight, and I should have been sleeping. I toyed with the edge of my silk nightgown, wondering if Roan would sleep in my room here, too. I hoped he would.
A knock sounded on the door, pulling me from my thoughts. Roan, I thought, perking up.
As I crossed the room, I let the top of my nightgown fall, exposing the top of my breast.
Unfortunately, when I pulled open the door, I found a plump waitress standing in the hall, pushing a cart with a bottle of chilled white wine and a domed silver tray.
She smiled. “Room service.”
I frowned. “I didn’t order anything.”
“It’s from your friend, Mr. Taranis. He asked me to tell you he would be over shortly.”
“Ah. Thanks. I’ll get it. No need to come in.” Maybe I’d become paranoid, but I didn’t want any strangers in my room. I lifted the tray, sliding it onto the bedside table. I narrowed my eyes at the domed, silver tray, another reflective surface for Siofra’s prying eyes. Not that she lacked those. The whole hotel room was covered in reflections.
I ran back for the wine—helpfully already opened for me—and pulled two glasses off the cart. “Thank you!” I knew I needed to tip her, but it had been ages since I’d carried actual cash around on me. So instead, I just smiled awkwardly as the door shut.
I dropped onto the bed and pulled off the lid of the tray. Immediately, the scent of steak greeted my nostrils—rich meat and rosemary, with buttery roast potatoes on the side.
My mouth watered. Still, I wasn’t going to dive in until Roan told me himself he’d ordered. I sat cross-legged on the bed, salivating, until a knock sounded on the door again. This time, I jumped up and peered through the peephole.
Roan stood outside, and I pulled open the door.
I grinned. “Did you order me a late-night roast dinner, by any chance?”
“I did. I could feel your hunger from the next room.” For a moment, his gaze slid up and down my body, taking in my bare legs, before his eyes refocused again. “Why aren’t you eating?”
“Just making sure it wasn’t something poisonous sent by Siofra.” I rushed over to the bed, plopping down to cut into the steak. I bit into it, and the rich meat seemed to melt in my mouth.
“The Unseelie Republic council’s first meeting had just ended.” Roan sounded tired. “It was difficult. Tensions between the houses are very high, and they won’t agree on a single thing. But we sent a missive to General Borvo, who is in charge of the Unseelie army. We think he will accept our joint leadership.”
“Politics take time and patience,” I said.
“Both are things I don’t have an abundance of.” His tone was troubled. “Promise me you’ll look after yourself when I’m away.”
My stomach clenched. I stared at him, swallowing my steak. “Where are you going?”
He sat next to me on the bed, his face serious. “I must go to Trinovantum. I need to speak to King Ebor of the Elder Fae.”
I scooped a bit of potato and steak onto my fork. “Just a quick meeting?”
He rubbed the back of his neck, looking down at the floor. “I’m afraid not. This will be a complicated mission.”
I was quickly working my way through the food. “What’s it about?”
“Unseelie control of Trinovantum is tenuous. A large part of the Seelie army just crossed the border into Hawkwood Forest.”
My mouth froze for a moment, mid-chew. I swallowed the bite. “But you said that wouldn’t be a problem. That the Elder Fae would keep them from crossing the forest.”
“King Ebor is currently letting them march through the forest.”
I took a long sip of wine to steady my nerves. “Why would he do that?”
“The Unseelie and the Elder Fae were never on good terms. Before we came to Trinovantum, it was their land. We have conquered a large part of it. It’s easy to forget that they aren’t our allies, because they helped us take down Ogmios. But now that he’s gone, that alliance is no more. I need to talk to King Ebor, convince him that it’s in his best interest to cooperate with us in the war against the Seelie.”
“Does it have to be you?”
“I’ve lived with the Elder Fae for many years. They trust me.”
It struck me how much I was going to miss him. “How long will you be gone for?”
“Hopefully just a few days. While I’m gone, will you be able to keep the alliance together?”
“You want the American pixie to hold together an alliance of Unseelie factions harboring thousands of years of resentment.”
“You’ve been with me at most of these meetings. The Unseelie know you as a leader now.”
“I’ll do my best, but I don’t know this world as well as everyone else. I suppose Branwen and Nerius can help me.”
Roan shook his head. “Not Branwen. She’s leaving for the Seelie encampment outside Cingeto’s Fortress.”
My eyes widened. “What? The Seelie camp?”
“She volunteered. She’s trying to search for information about Balor’s armory’s location. She says she’ll be safe, and work in the shadows.”
I let out a long breath. “I really don’t like the sound of that.” I narrowed my eyes at Roan, a sense of protectiveness blooming in my chest. “How dangerous is your mission?”
He reached out, stroking my face, his feather-light touch electrifying me. “As dangerous as anything in this war. You’ll be able to feel me through our bond.”
I dropped my fork onto the plate, then reached up, touching his hand. “I don’t like the idea of being separated from you.” I hadn’t realized how true it was until the words were out of my mouth.
“But if anything does happen to me, you should leave London, okay? Go back to America.”
My
heart clenched at his words. “Don’t say that. Just make it back here safe. If you don’t, I’m going to have a long list of people to torture to death, and I’d rather not.”
“Your version of love is a bit violent, isn’t it?”
I smiled. “Maybe I need you to calm my violent side.” I leaned back on the bed, and my silky nightgown rode up my thighs. Roan growled softly. Slowly, his gaze ran up my thighs, devouring me, his eyes glinting with gold. “I’m tempted to see if I can get you to stay.”
Roan shifted closer to me, his movements inhumanly fluid. My knees fell open, and Roan moved between them, gripping my waist. As he nuzzled my neck, I arched into him.
Warmth from his body radiated over mine, and I ran my fingers over his muscled back.
“Roan?” I considered telling him right there and then I was ready to be his mate forever, but something stopped me. I couldn’t let the feel of his powerful body on mine cloud my judgment.
“Yes?”
I swallowed hard. “Stay safe, okay?”
He held my gaze, eyes shifting to amber. Then, he pressed his mouth to mine in a searing kiss. Liquid fire raced through my body as I wrapped my legs around him.
But just as soon as it had begun, the kiss was over, and Roan was pulling away from me. “I have to go.”
When he rose from the bed, I felt the separation from him as a powerful ache in my chest. Stay safe. I don’t want to live in a world without you.
Chapter 21
I sat with my back to Leroy’s bar counter, sipping my golden claret. My eyes were on the stage, where a siren was stepping into the white lights, her lilac hair cascading over a black gown. She walked with a catlike grace, the entire bar quieting as all eyes focused on her. I had heard a siren’s song before, and I found myself both dreading and yearning for her voice.
As she began to sing, her voice echoed across the dark room, tugging at my heart. She sang in the ancient fae tongue, and even though the words made no sense to me, I somehow understood. The music invoked loss and nostalgia, a wave of crushing homesickness in me. Tears filled my eyes as I thought of summer nights by the Charles River banks, of my grandmother’s fried chicken, of lazy Sunday mornings with Scarlett and a stack of magazines. Back then, I hadn’t known my life would twist and change beyond recognition.