by Donna Grant
“The authorities would have a way to track you.”
“Is the band performing tonight?”
She frowned but shook her head. “They have the next two nights off. Why?”
“Go home. Stay there if you can. Don’t talk to anyone you don’t know. If anything seems out of the ordinary or you hear from Thea, call for me.”
“No,” she said.
Eoghan wasn’t going to spend the rest of the day in a battle of wits with the mortal. He needed to find Thea, and he needed to do it sooner rather than later. He veiled himself as Annie took a breath.
Her mouth fell open as she turned in a circle, looking for him. “What the bloody hell,” she murmured. After a few minutes of silence, Annie stalked from the flat, slamming the door behind her as she mumbled obscenities about him.
Eoghan teleported to the roof and listened for any signs of Thea, but there was none of her powerful, magical notes that filled the air and transcended time and space.
He stood there for another hour before he returned to the base below the cathedral. When he arrived, Cathal sat in one of the chairs, his long legs stretched out before him with his ankles crossed.
“How long have you been here?” Eoghan asked.
He shrugged. “A while. My assignment was an easy one.”
“And the others?”
Cathal shot him a perturbed look. “I don’t know.”
“They’re your brethren. You should know,” Eoghan said.
“We’re still working on the group thing.”
Eoghan held his gaze. “Work harder. If we don’t trust each other implicitly, then we’re doomed before we even begin.”
Cathal leaned forward and uncrossed his ankles. “Are you angry to have left your group? Or are you excited to be leading now?”
“You know as well as I that we choose who knows our pasts,” Eoghan replied. “But you ask a valid question. Before I was a Reaper, I was a general in the Fae army. I was happy to have Cael lead the Reapers. He’s a natural at it.”
“Some might say you are, as well,” Cathal said.
Eoghan shoved his long hair out of his face. “I miss my brothers, but we each have our own paths. Mine deviated from the others’ and brought me to you.”
“Do you think our group could be as close as your Reapers?”
“You and the others are my Reapers now,” he corrected. “But, yes, I believe we could be. We seven are a unit. We will work in conjunction with Cael’s team when needed, but we have to be a family. And that means forming bonds of trust.”
“Perhaps it should start with you,” Aisling said from behind him.
Eoghan turned to find the other five Reapers. He raised a brow. “Meaning?”
“Who are you looking for?” Aisling asked.
He frowned as he took a step toward her. “You followed me?”
“No,” she said with a shake of her head. “I saw you when I was on my way here. You looked . . . agitated. That’s when I followed you.”
The leather in the chair creaked as Cathal rose behind him. “We can help you find whoever it is.”
Eoghan looked at the ground as he weighed his options. Finally, he raised his head and shifted so he could see all of them. “The woman who led me to the portal door to return to this realm has been taken.”
“You mean the woman from last night?” Bradach asked.
Eoghan nodded slowly. “Thea was taken after I returned her to the city.”
“Then let’s find her,” Rordan stated.
Chapter Nine
Inactivity drove Xaneth nuts. He was an expert hunter. Give him a target, and he could locate it. The more difficult, the better. Which was how he’d gotten the job of finding the Halfling.
Discovering that Thea knew Eoghan was a boon that would net Xaneth a multitude of praise and whatever else he asked for. After living on the outskirts of the Fae his entire life, he intended to use this new information to his benefit.
He dropped the glamour and ran his hands through his black hair. Gathering the length at the base of his neck, he tied it off with a strip of leather and leaned back against the cottage.
Thea alternated between shouting and pounding at the door. He’d much prefer it if she would go back to playing her violin while he waited.
“Xaneth.”
He jerked to attention at the voice. His gaze briefly met swirling silver eyes before he dropped to one knee, bowing his head. “My queen.”
“Rise,” Usaeil said.
He straightened and looked into the face of ethereal beauty. “I wondered if you’d received my message.”
“I rule thousands. My duties never end.”
Xaneth clasped his hands behind his back. He didn’t bother to tell Usaeil that while he walked among the Dark, he’d heard disturbing tales about her. Those tales, added with what he knew of her actions she kept secret were just some things his ability to move between the Light and Dark gave him.
And if everything went according to plan, she was his ticket back into the ranks of the Light.
Usaeil turned her head to look through a window of the cottage. “She’s not ready to speak with me.”
“Nor will she be if you keep her locked away.”
The queen’s gaze snapped to him before narrowing. “You think to tell me what to do?”
“I merely caution you about which actions you might take.” Xaneth was nothing if not diplomatic when the need arose. After negotiating dozens of truces with other races, and maneuvering through the landmine that was the Fae, it had become an invaluable asset.
“Caution?” Usaeil asked. “Is that what you’re doing?”
Xaneth bowed his head. The Dark Fae now had a new king. The Light were in a tither about Usaeil banishing Rhi. And more shocking was the new—or old—adversary who went by the name of Bran, who recruited and took Dark for his army.
Xaneth had learned of Bran and the Reapers—specifically, those named Eoghan and Cael—by eavesdropping. Apparently, Bran wanted those two more than anything.
But Xaneth had survived as long as he had because he was vigilant and careful. His position with Usaeil was precarious, and he didn’t want to do anything to muddy the waters. Not when Usaeil had the power to give him everything he wanted and more.
“We both know your repentant act is just that. An act,” Usaeil said, her eyes narrowing dangerously.
Xaneth met her gaze. He, more than anyone, knew what the queen was capable of. Though he no longer had anything to lose. “You found me because of my reputation. I’m able to hunt anything and run it to ground. I agreed to help because of who you are. And because you can give me what I seek.”
Her lips curved into a knowing smile. “I can give you anything you want.”
There was something in her tone that gave him pause. A lifetime of running to stay ahead of the Trackers after him had sent up warning signals. But he would never know the outcome if he didn’t try. Xaneth just hoped it wasn’t a mistake.
“I’ve retrieved that which you sought. Handing her over to you now shall conclude our business.”
“Does it?”
For fek’s sake. So this was how it was going to go? He should’ve known. Usaeil was an enemy—she just didn’t realize it. Yet. He had a particular code, and it didn’t matter who he dealt with, he never allowed a betrayal to go unanswered.
And to think, he’d decided not to retaliate after what she’d done to his family. Now, he wished he hadn’t agreed to work with her.
Usaeil laughed and tossed back her long, black hair. “You look concerned. Why is that?”
“I’m not worried, my queen.”
She drew close and peered up into his face, wearing a smile that was anything but pure. “It’s been several millennia, but did you think I’d forget you? Did you really believe that with one act, I would allow you back into the Light? Banishment is forever . . . nephew.”
His hands itched to call forth his blades, but he kept control of the volatile rag
e that bubbled inside him like lava.
“Oh, yes,” she stated as she looked at him with disgust. “Frankly, I’m surprised you’re still alive. I thought I had all of you hunted down and killed.”
He was careful to keep the fury from his face. All the years of watching his family being picked off one by one by the Trackers had left him hollow and bitter. He’d turned those emotions to his benefit—and he’d thought to use Usaeil to his advantage. What a fekking waste.
Now, he was on her radar. No doubt, the Trackers would be after him. But they wouldn’t find him easily.
Usaeil’s smile was wide as she squeezed her shoulders together. “Your expression is priceless. It’s made my day.”
He was going to kill her. Or at least attempt to end her life. No one was strong enough to go up against Usaeil except for Balladyn, the new King of the Dark. Or perhaps Rhi. But Xaneth would rather die trying to avenge his family than wait for Uaseil to strike.
“For pity’s sake,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “Cheer up. I’m not going to kill you. Yet,” she added with a raise of her brow.
Yeah. He was definitely going to kill her.
“I tell you what,” Usaeil said as she put a finger against her mouth and pursed her lips for a heartbeat. “You stay here as a guard and look over my new . . . acquisition . . . and I’ll allow you to live.”
She needed him for the moment, which was the only reason he was still alive. His body vibrated with the need to plunge a blade into her black heart.
Usaeil raised her brows and widened her eyes. “This is the part where you vow to serve me.”
Xaneth couldn’t form the words. They lodged in his throat, choking him. All his years of forming alliances had gotten him exactly nowhere. His aunt had told him that Usaeil wouldn’t stop until every last one of them was dead. He should’ve listened to her.
“Is this your way of telling me no?” Usaeil demanded. She held up a hand, ready to snap her fingers.
He didn’t have to ask to know that she would call one of the Trackers. Usaeil would never dirty her hands by killing him herself.
But he needed time. No betrayal—no matter how small or large—was ever forgotten. Or left unpaid.
Whatever idiocy had made him think that he could prove to her that he wasn’t a threat and make her forget her need to kill him flew out the window.
Now, he had another mission. If he couldn’t take her out, then he would find someone who could help him.
“I vow to serve you,” Xaneth said.
Usaeil pointed at the ground. “Say it on your knees.”
He clenched his teeth together. Every fiber of his being screamed for him to attack her. It was only his mind, urging reason, that held him back—that and the image of his sister begging for her life before being struck down by one of the Hunters.
He lowered himself to one knee at a time. His body shook with his fury, as a silent promise ran through him. “I vow to serve you.”
She patted his head. “Good boy. Don’t do anything stupid. I’ll be watching you.”
He remained on his knees several minutes after she was gone. His wrath simmered until it boiled over. He threw back his head and bellowed his rage.
Xaneth fell forward onto his hands and squeezed his eyes closed. The image of his sister filled his head. She had been so young, only a child when she was killed. He had left her for only a short time to find them food. When he returned, he’d arrived in time to see the Tracker ignore her cries of mercy and plunge his blade into her chest.
Xaneth had gathered her in his arms after the Tracker left. She opened her eyes long enough to smile before she was gone. Leaving him all alone. Even after thirteen hundred years, he could still feel her body grow cold in his arms.
The fires of his anger engulfed him until he was nothing but flames. And the only thing that would douse them was Usaeil’s death.
The pounding on the door drew his attention. He opened his eyes and got to his feet to face the cottage. The one thing he didn’t know was why the Light Queen wanted the Halfling. But that could be remedied quickly enough.
Xaneth walked to the door. He didn’t touch it or open it. “Nothing is going to harm you,” he told the Halfling.
“Let me out,” she demanded.
He looked at his hands and thought about his blades. Immediately, both short swords materialized in his palms. “Not yet.”
“Tell me why I’ve been taken.”
“I don’t know.”
There was a slight pause. “But you kidnapped me.”
“So I did.”
There was a bang as if she had kicked the door. “Then why did you do it?”
He tightened his grip on the hilts of the weapons. “Be calm, Halfling. I’m protecting you.”
“Oh, that makes me feel sooo much better,” she replied acerbically.
Xaneth grinned despite himself, but it faded quickly. “I’m going to make it so the one who wants you can’t get to you.”
“Uh . . . thanks?”
“Remain calm.”
“How about I lock you away and tell you to remain calm?”
He sheathed his weapons at his back and put his hands on either side of the doorway, the wards spreading from his palms wrapping around the house.
“You’re far better with me than the other.”
“Tell me who the other is and let me decided that. Better yet, let me go,” she said with a heavy dose of sass in her voice.
“Nice try,” he told her and stepped away once the cottage had been warded.
It wouldn’t keep Usaeil out completely, but it would take her considerable energy to get through them. That would give him enough time to return if she came for the Halfling while he was gone.
Xaneth then used glamour to make himself look like a Dark once more before teleporting to the Dark Palace. He walked the halls, listening for anything that could give him information on Bran.
This new adversary that the Light knew nothing about could be the one to take out Usaeil. And with the information he had on Eoghan, it would certainly get him an audience with Bran.
Xaneth knew how lucky he was to have overheard Eoghan give his name to the Halfling in the alley. If he would’ve gotten there a moment later, he wouldn’t hold such crucial information that could right the wrongs done to his family—intel that had the potential to knock Usaeil’s scrawny ass off her throne.
He turned a corner and came up short when he found Balladyn leaning a shoulder against the wall as if he’d been waiting for Xaneth.
The King of the Dark raised a brow. “I have a distinct dislike for a Light who uses glamour in my palace.”
Xaneth noted that Balladyn didn’t have any guards around. Not that Xaneth was foolish enough to take on the king. Xaneth filed away the fact that Balladyn could see through the glamour for later. “I couldn’t exactly come in here without it.”
“And why are you here? To try and kill me?” The king straightened and spread his legs as he stared at Xaneth.
“I’m not an assassin, but if I were, you wouldn’t see me.”
Balladyn briefly narrowed his gaze. “Why are you here?”
“I’m looking for someone who can take me to Bran.”
“Bran?” Balladyn repeated, his interest caught. “Why?”
Xaneth frowned. “So, you know him.”
“I know of him,” Balladyn replied. “I know he’s taking Dark against their will. I know he has acquired some powerful enemies.”
And Xaneth knew those enemies were the Reapers. “I have information he wants.”
The king issued a snort of laughter. “And what do you want in exchange.”
“Usaeil’s death.”
“Well, now,” Balladyn said with a grin. “A Fae after my own heart. Why not ask me to do it?”
Xaneth didn’t want to take the time to talk his way out of landing in the dungeon, but he had no choice. “Because the information I have would mean nothing to you.”
&nb
sp; “Yet it does to Bran?”
“Yes.”
“Interesting,” Balladyn said as he walked closer. “Especially since I have need of a spy within Bran’s ranks.”
The news shocked Xaneth. He usually expected things like this, but the king had caught him off guard. “You fear Bran might try and take your position?”
“He’s taking my people. I don’t like that.”
“Why me?” Xaneth asked. “Why would you trust me to spy for you?”
Balladyn grinned. “We want the same thing—Usaeil gone. What do you say?”
Xaneth clasped the king’s outstretched hand, realizing that Balladyn could be a good ally. “I say you can never have too many friends.”
Chapter Ten
Each minute felt like an eternity. Thea returned to the door again and again in the hopes that it might suddenly unlock. And every time, her anger, helplessness, and irritation mounted.
She tried to get the Fae to respond to her again, but once more, he’d returned to silence. Thea had a knack for recognizing voices, and she knew that he was the same Dark who’d kidnapped her and attacked Eoghan.
Just like Eoghan, she assumed the Dark had been after him. It never entered her mind that the Fae would want her. After all, until Eoghan, she hadn’t even known she was a Halfling. Now, it seemed as if everyone knew.
Her stomach rumbled, but she refused to eat anything. For all she knew, it was laced with . . . well, she was sure it had something on it, in it, or whatever to make her do things she wouldn’t normally do.
“I’m paranoid,” she murmured.
Thea immediately walked to her violin and began playing. She had to find some measure of calm. Otherwise, her brain might explode from all the different scenarios that kept running through her head.
She didn’t bother calling for Eoghan again. Either he couldn’t hear her—or he never planned to respond. She hadn’t thought him the type not to answer, but how well did she really know him?
Her eyes squeezed shut when her air of melancholy came through in the notes she played. She had thought—hoped—Eoghan was. . . .
She couldn’t finish the thought. Apparently, her attraction to him—the overwhelming, blinding desire—had prevented her from seeing the obvious.