by Eve Newton
“Don’t,” Sebastian says at my side instantly, his hand over mine. “Please give him a chance to explain before you destroy him.”
“He destroyed me first and there is nothing to explain,” I say sadly as I take it off and put it in a box on my desk. My hand feels bare without it, and my heart feels like lead. It feels wrong, deadly wrong, and something makes me take it back out of the box and slide it back onto my finger, almost against my will. I frown at it, but don’t get to ponder the mystery further as a familiar voice makes me turn with a grimace. “I can help,” he says.
“Go away,” I snarl at Remiel. I don’t need him messing with me right now.
He holds his hands up. “I come in peace,” he smirks. “Ah, young Xane. I had hoped we would have another encounter.”
“Who the fuck are you?” he growls at Remiel’s use of 'young Xane.' He hates that and it makes me giggle to myself. But this is what you get when you play with the grown-ups. Being eight hundred and sixty-eight, it makes him older than Devon, Lincoln, and Cole, but he is still younger than me, Constantine, Sebastian, and of course Tiamat, and now Remiel as well.
Remiel’s eyes shift back to mine. “You haven’t told them? Well, well, I am honored that you chose to keep our little rendezvous a secret.”
“Don’t be. I haven’t told them because they wouldn’t understand why I tolerate you,” I say.
“Tolerate me? You are quite amusing, my dear. I think you have that backwards. I am tolerating you because I enjoy our chats,” he retorts.
“Chats? I wouldn’t say that exactly.”
“Liv?” Xane interrupts. “Who is this? And if you turn around and say The Thirteen, I will stake you myself for being a fool.”
Remiel lets out a loud laugh. “Now that I would gladly stick around to see. Although, I was under the impression the common stake would be useless against you?”
“It is,” I say through gritted teeth. “Xane, Sebastian, this is Remiel. The artist formerly known as The Thirteen.”
“It has a name?” Xane asks incredulously. “And It gave it to you?”
“He has a name and you should be more respectful of your ancestors,” Remiel says with more loft in his tone than I could ever accomplish, even on my best day.
“Ancestors?” Xane now looks like he is about to faint, and I put my hand on his arm to focus him.
“Yes, Remiel is of the House of Dracul. In fact, he is Dracul’s grandson.”
“Grandson?” he stammers. “How do you know all of this?” His piercing blue eyes pin mine with a furious intensity that I have never witnessed from him before. If he starts throwing punches, I am so out of here. I have had enough of a beating for one day.
“She asked and I told her,” Remiel says smugly. “We have formed a special relationship.”
“One based on tolerance, I assume,” Sebastian says, sidling up to my other side with his arms crossed. “How can you get my sire back?”
“Now, now, don’t be so hasty,” Remiel says, settling down into his favorite chair and holding his hand out for a cup of tea.
I hand him one much to the surprise and consternation of the other two. “Where is the Wolf today?” he asks idly pointing to the table where I slam the cup down in annoyance that he still won’t drop his shields. “I quite like him.”
“Good question,” I mutter. “But leave him out of this, what do you know?”
“I know I can get to the Fae Kingdoms. They exist on a completely different plane, but unlike the Dragon Realms, I have access. Don’t ask me why,” he says and shrugs.
“Then what are you waiting for?” I shriek at him. “Go and get him!”
His eyes harden into two shards of ice in reaction to my banshee impersonation, clearly not used to being spoken to like that.
“Excuse me, young Alice,” he says, his clipped British accent even more pronounced. “Who do you think you are speaking to?”
“Don’t call me Alice,” I sulk. “Please, will you be so kind as to go and fetch my sire?”
He sighs and sips his tea. “Better, but I am sure you have more grovel in you than that,” he says and hides his smirk behind another sip of tea and if he hadn’t had that blasted barrier up, I would have smacked it off his face.
“What do you want?” I ask, slightly terrified of what he might say.
“If I can’t call you Alice, then what can I call you?” he asks instead to my ire. “You have such a multitude of names, it’s confusing.” He frowns slightly into his tea.
“You can call her, Your Majesty,” Xane snarls at him, having finally adjusted enough to rejoin the conversation, but that was not very helpful.
“Hah!” he says. “There is not a chance in Hell, young Draconis, that I will ever bow down to The Pretender.”
“Pretender?” I yell at him. “How dare you? Just because you never got to…”
He holds his hand up, stopping me in my tracks. “I would think very carefully about your next words, Alice. You wouldn’t want to make me mad when I am your only hope now, would you?”
I button it, with great effort, and he smiles all genial again in the blink of an eye. “So, your name?”
“You pick. But not Alice,” I sulk.
“Hm, I suppose I should go with your Dragon name, really, but it’s quite a mouthful, ValamAtrux.” He casts his gaze over me, head to toe, critically. “Although it is a fitting name: Fanged Queen. But I do not recognize your rule so maybe I should call you Xerxei? No, I don’t like it. It doesn’t suit you as you are. Aefre it is then.” He stands as he replaces the cup and saucer on the table and walks forward to stand right in front of me. “Well, Aefre, time to bargain. How much is a trip to the Fae Kingdoms worth to you?”
“How much is it worth to you?” I ask and he chuckles.
“Nicely done. I have a price in mind, but will you pay?”
“You won’t know unless you ask,” I say, hands on my hips, but I feel anything but cocky. I feel fear. Fear that he is going to ask too much and yet I will have to give it to him to get my sire back.
“One week,” he says. “You give me one week, seven days in your dreams, and I will give you a return trip.”
The feeling of dread blossoms in my stomach, but I push it down. It’s just a starting point.
“No, Liv. You can’t,” Xane says desperately. “You can’t give him that. You don’t know if he will keep his word.”
“My word is my honor,” Remiel snaps at Xane, annoyed for interrupting.
“Four days,” I say quietly.
“Five,” he says quickly.
“Three,” I drop it to his astonishment.
“Five,” he says more determinedly.
“Two,” I drop it again and he is furious.
“Five or no deal.”
“Two. One day to take me there and one day for bringing us back.”
“That’s fair,” Sebastian says, as Xane opens his mouth to protest further.
“Five, going once…” Remiel says, backing away.
“I can always find another way. Between Sebastian and me, we should be enough Faerie to find a Ring and pass through.” I am probably spinning a yarn but who knows, it could work.
“Going twice…” He backs up even further.
“If you refuse, I will still find a way and you won’t get anything. Two days.”
He narrows his eyes at me and says, “Done,” and claps his hands.
Err, what?
“I don’t like this,” Xane says. “Something isn’t right here.”
No kidding. That was too easy.
“What aren’t you telling me?” I ask suspiciously.
“Why nothing, my dear Aefre. Now shall we?” He holds his hand out to me and I hesitate. I change my clothes from that ridiculous gown into some nice comfy fighting gear, just in case I have to fight. I would rather be in loose pants and a vest top than a long, flowing gown getting in my way.
“Liv, no don’t do this,” Xane says, gripping my elbow. �
�We can find another way.”
“This is the quickest way,” Sebastian says. “In and out.”
“Then why can’t he go alone?” Xane asks.
Remiel answers for himself, “I cannot go alone as I have no idea where I am going. I don’t have a connection with him. Aefre needs to come so that we can go straight to him.”
Makes sense to me.
“Liv,” he says, shaking his head. I turn to him fully and wrap my arms around him in reassurance.
“It will be fine. I’ll be back in two shakes.”
He leans down to kiss me, not caring if anyone sees us. “Please be safe.”
I nod and hold out my hand to Remiel. “If you get me behind that forcefield and try to kill me, I will have the sword in my hand so quickly you won’t know what hit you.”
He holds his hand up to his heart and says mockingly, “I am wounded that you don’t trust me.”
“Whatever!” I scoff. “The last time your hands were on me, you were throttling the life out of me.”
“Not true,” he says with a wicked smile. “The last time I had my hands on you, you were writhing naked on my lap, unable to keep your own off me.”
I hear the sharp intake of breath from Sebastian and Xane at that little bombshell and I cringe. Oh, yeah. I had forgotten about that. I had pushed it into the dark recesses of my mind as something to never think about again.
“Mention that ever again and I will do you in, truce be damned.”
“Is that what we have? A truce?” He sounds surprised as he sees it for what it is. “Well, in the interests of keeping our ceasefire, I will keep my hands and thoughts to myself. That is, until I get you in your dreams.” He drops the barrier and quickly grabs my hand, yanking me not so gently to his side before it pops back up again. “You two, I don’t trust,” he says, pointing to Sebastian and Xane, who have inched closer. “Ready?” he asks me, and I nod. We blink out of existence and, expecting to be at Constantine’s side immediately, I am surprised that it takes a bit longer. We are moving through what appears to be clouds or fog or something of that nature, until we aren’t, and we are standing in a poorly lit cell, deep underground. I blink to adjust my eyes and I see Constantine strapped down and being bled out, quickly enough that it is hurting him, and he isn’t healing.
He opens his eyes and smiles. “I knew you would come,” he murmurs before he closes them again. “I knew you would come so I could ask you for forgiveness and tell you I’m sorry. I didn’t mean what I said to you, Aefre. I didn’t want to hurt you. The monster…” he trails off.
“Constantine,” I shake him, as it appears, he has passed out. “Wake up.” I shake him again.
“Aefre, I knew you would come,” he says again. “I knew you would come so I could ask you for forgiveness and tell you I’m sorry.”
“Constantine,” I shake him again and his eyes flutter open. I don’t think he knows I am actually here. It seems that he only thinks he sees me, and that I am some sort of hallucination. It scares me. He is indestructible and yet this bleeding out is hurting him in a way I’ve never seen before. It makes me waiver in my hatred for him briefly, seeing him so vulnerable.
“Aefre,” he says. “I knew you would come.”
“Shut it,” I snap at him, remembering what he did, said, to me. “We haven’t got much time.” I yank the IV out of his arm, which looks like it hurt, but forget that. I am not here to coddle him. “Sit up,” I say, shaking him as he has closed his eyes again. His eyes fly open and he sits up. Now that he isn’t losing so much of his blood, it has woken him up out of his daze. “Aefre?” he asks me. “Are you really here?” He grabs me and I pull away from him.
“Yes, get up, we’re going home,” I say stiffly.
“Oh, Aefre,” he says and falls at my feet. “I am so sorry for what I did to you. I didn’t mean any of the things I said. I was angry and I was lashing out. You shouldn’t have been there; you should have left when I told you to. I knew the monster was going to come out, I never wanted you to see it.”
I stand there stock-still. My heart is breaking for him, he is so upset, but I push it away as I am upset too. This time, I won’t forgive him.
“Aefre, please say you forgive me. I can’t bear it. I can’t bear what I did to you. Say you forgive me,” he begs.
“We have to go,” I say, stepping back from him and he looks at me with such pain and anguish, I have to look away before I fall to the floor with him and forgive him. I take Remiel’s outstretched hand. “Constantine, we have to go. Now.”
He gets to his feet slowly and I look down. He hurt me so badly and yet I still love him. Damn him. “Take his hand,” I say.
“Well, we are in a bit of a pickle now,” Remiel says to me casually. “Who knew it was two in, two out?” He shrugs and smiles at me innocently.
“You son-of-a-bitch,” I hiss at him. “You knew that all along.”
“Well, I may have had a hunch. I was hoping I wasn’t right,” he admits slyly.
“So, what do we do now?” I snap at him.
“Either he goes, or you go. The choice is yours.”
I close my eyes and breathe in deeply. There is no choice. “Take him,” I say as I open my eyes and glare at him.
“Wrong choice,” he says. “I vote you.”
“What?” I say, perplexed. “What the fuck is all of this in aid of?”
“Aefre, what is going on here? Who is this, anyway?” Constantine asks.
I sigh in exasperation. “Constantine, this is Remiel. The Thirteen. We have a sort of truce going. Or at least we did until he just tricked me into coming here.”
“I didn’t trick you, I told you I didn’t know for sure.”
“And now what? If you take me back, we are back at square one, if you take him back, I am stuck here. To what end? Is this where you want me, out of the way?”
“No, I want to take you back and have my two days with you, with him out of the way.”
“What two days?” Constantine growls at him.
“My payment for bringing Aefre here,” he explains.
“That isn’t what we agreed,” I argue.
“Go back with him, Aefre. This is the last place you want to be,” Constantine says, taking my hand.
“No, I came here to get you back and you are going. Drake was going to come for me sooner or later. This is some music I have to face now, like it or not. Remiel, take him back. I will find my own way.”
“No,” he says. “I told you I am taking you back.”
“No!” I yell at him. “You are taking Constantine.”
“For what price?” he asks. “You get one chance. Make me an offer and I will take him back if it is acceptable. If not, I take you.”
“One week,” I say quickly. “Seven days. Now take him.”
“Done,” he says again in glee. “Do find a way out of here in a hurry, my dear.” He takes Constantine’s arm, who is protesting loudly, and blinks out of existence, leaving me in this dark, damp cell with iron bars and earthen floor that smells of my sire’s blood.
Oh, fuck, what have I gotten myself into now?
Chapter 2
Buckinghamshire, England, 2013 – Constantine
“Let go of me!” Constantine snaps at the creature that has just left Aefre to rot in that disgusting cell. “You go back for her right now.”
“I can’t,” he says. “One in, only one out.”
“Then take me back, she doesn’t belong in there.”
“No, sorry. She made the deal.”
He growls in frustration and then turns to Sebastian, who is hovering. “How could you let her make such a deal?”
“Where is she?” Sebastian asks, the fear creeping off him and hitting Constantine hard. “Why did she not come back with you?”
“I knew it!” Xane says. “I knew you couldn’t be trusted. You caved too easily. What have you done with her?”
“She stayed in her sire’s place as I could only bring one of the
m back,” Remiel says.
“Which you knew all along. I will kill you myself for this,” Xane says, stepping closer to him.
“You could try. You would fail, but you could try,” Remiel taunts.
“Enough!” Constantine barks at them. “None of this is helping. We need to get her back before Drake gets his hands on her.”
“Who is Drake?” Devon asks, as he and Cole enter the library. Constantine glares at them both, wishing that neither of them existed and that she was just his.
He remains silent, as do all the others.
“Erm, hello? Anybody going to answer the question? Who is Drake and why is Lizzie not here?” Devon asks again.
He turns to face them, looking forward to dropping this bombshell as clearly, they are also in the dark about her father. He loves his beloved so, but she can be so secretive. “Drake is her father. Her Dark Fae King father,” he states, and he has a momentary satisfaction of seeing their shock. It is short lived, though, when he remembers that she is there and not here with him.
“Come again?” Devon asks. “You mean she found her father?”
“What is a Dark Fae?” Cole asks.
Constantine explains the situation briefly, leaving out the part about Sebastian. He is still furious with him and his part in all of this. His betrayal hurts worse than hers, but he will protect him no matter what.
“You mean she is stuck there?” Cole yells as he finishes. “You traded her for your own freedom?”
“Of course not!” he snaps, highly offended. “She had this creature take me out on a deal she struck before I could stop her.”
“This creature has a name,” Remiel says, just as irate as he is.
“You may leave. Seeing as your services are completely useless, there is no need for you to be here,” Constantine tells him.
“There is no need to be rude. I did as she asked, I brought you home,” Remiel says huffily.
“You should have left me there and brought her home.”
“He was killing you. Of course, she was going to send you back. Even I know her sense of loyalty is at its strongest with regard to you.”
“He wasn’t killing me. I cannot die,” he says and turns to face Remiel completely now, getting pissed off with his attitude.