by Eve Newton
I blanch. Very few people, Vampires and other creatures aside, know about the dire consequences of such an act. Unfortunately, I do know, and it isn’t pleasant. Defanging a Vampire is probably the worst thing you can do to one. Worse than death. They don’t grow back, and you are left without the ability to bite. While that may not sound like a big deal, it is. It is not only the loss of the bite, but also the loss of a prime piece of yourself that makes you innately a Vampire. It eventually starts to drive you crazy, and I mean funny-farm crazy. It might take decades, maybe less depending on your strength of character, but you will eventually lose your mind and your senses and become nothing more than a feral creature that needs putting down. Combined with declawing, you might as well just stake the Vampire on the spot as the degradation is quick and painful and ugly. How do I know? Because I saw Lance use it more than once on my fellow prisoners. How I was lucky enough to not end up on the same end of that treatment remains a mystery. Maybe because he kept hoping I would give him myself, and if I did, he wanted me as a fully functioning member of the Vampire club.
“I see that gave you pause,” he says, interrupting my thoughts.
“How do you even know about that?” I ask.
“Oh, I know almost every way to destroy your kind. You see, Vampires are probably the worst creatures to roam the Realms. Stealing our blood so that they can walk in the light. It’s despicable behavior,” he says.
“They don’t know,” I say, needing to defend my race. “They don’t know it’s the Faerie blood that activates the protection spell. I only just figured it out a few weeks ago.”
“Not just Faerie blood,” he says. “But knowledge of the ins and outs matters not. There are those who do know and still continue to offer us up as some sort of prize.”
I blink at him and his hatred, but I suppose I have to give the man a break. From his point of view it must feel like the ultimate humiliation. “Only those deemed worthy get the silver,” I say and it’s lame, but I feel I need to say something.
“Perhaps, but then it gets passed to those who didn’t earn it. That’s the part I don’t get,” he says, puzzled. “If you are going to fight for something and be deemed worthy of it then it should be yours to keep. Who is to say that the one you give it to is worth it?”
Good fucking point. And not one I had ever even thought of. “I…err…yes,” I say, flustered and somewhat embarrassed that this had never crossed my mind before. All you have to do is look at Constantine and Lance to know it is true. “As Queen, that is perhaps something I can look to change,” I say with an authority that I don’t feel.
“Ah yes, Queen of the Underworld,” he says, casting his critical gaze over my casual, muddy outfit. “It’s easy to forget when you look like something the cat dragged in.”
“Hey!” I snap. “You are the one who Vamp-napped my sire, forcing me to come to this place to get him. You really should keep your cells in better shape if you expect your prisoners to look decent.”
“I didn’t Vamp-nap him,” he says, offended. “He offered to come in exchange for me leaving you alone long enough to recover from your…injuries. And if prison cells are supposed to be comfortable, it sort of defeats the object, wouldn’t you say?”
“He asked you to do that?” I ask softly.
“Yes, I have to say you put up a damn good fight. Your Fae powers are coming along nicely. You pulled up that storm and used it like a true Princess. For that, I think I may be proud. I haven’t decided yet. But you were most definitely on the losing side. A word of advice, power isn’t everything. You need to know what to do with it. Your sire is a warrior. He was born a warrior and he fights like a warrior. If you expect to beat him, you need to fight like a warrior too.”
“I expect never to see him again, let alone fight him again,” I say, the hurt of what he said and did to me coming back to the surface.
“Well, can’t say that I blame you. That fall looked like it hurt,” he says with mock concern.
“Hurt?” I yell at him. “It broke every bone in my body.”
“And yet here you are, perfectly fine as he knew you would be. So, daughter, are you going to stay and do your duty, or am I going to have to track you back to Earth and start rounding up your friends? I can start with the man you call your husband,” he says.
“Lay a finger on Cole and I will rip your head clean from your shoulders,” I say forcefully.
“Cole? Our information had you in an unholy union with the Demon Overlord,” Drake says with a small frown.
Oh, crap. I had forgotten about that ruse and as usual I stepped in it big time. Cole wouldn’t last a day at the hands of the Dark Fae. Xane at least would not only last longer, he would also have every Demon from every Realm out to rescue him.
“My marriage is not an unholy union,” I say through gritted teeth, ignoring the question of who exactly my husband is.
“It is not recognized in the Fae Kingdoms. Your union will be with Kalen and it will take place at the next full moon. Three weeks from now. There is much to do in preparation,” he states.
“I am not marrying Kalen. I am already married.” I stamp my foot and again feel, belatedly, like a sullen teenager.
“You will marry Kalen and you will bear the destined child. That is your duty to me and this Court. Your only duty,” he says with an emphasis that makes me gulp. What does that mean exactly?
“The clock is ticking, so to speak. You agree to your duty or…” He grabs my chin in a powerful grip that has forced me back up against the iron bars. “Or I send the Dark Guard for your charge and I start ripping his claws out one-by-painful-one.”
My sire side surges to the forefront and I knock his hand away from me and I grab him again in a tight fist. “If you hurt him in any way whatsoever, you will see just exactly how powerful I can be,” I hiss at him.
“So you’ll stay then?” he asks.
I nod once, grimly. I don’t have much choice. As much Power as I wield, I am certain he has more or at the very least he knows how to use it better.
“Grand,” he says jovially, like he didn’t just threaten to brutally mutilate Devon. Or Cole. It’s unclear which one he meant, but it makes no difference. I will do anything to protect them both, even if it means staying here. He turns us towards to the long corridor and pushes me forward. “We have a long walk up; you can start by telling me about your lineage. It’s quite confusing.”
“Can’t you just puff us back upstairs?” I ask.
“Where is the fun in that?” he asks and shrugs. “Well…?”
“Well, what? You know what I am,” I say with a sniff.
“I know I am Dark Fae and your mother, for Her sins, is a Dragon. What happened after your cursed conception remains somewhat of a mystery,” he says.
“Don’t talk about my mother,” I grouse.
“I loved your mother,” he says fiercely. “But we were doomed from the start. The fact that She kept your birth a secret from me is unforgivable. She knew how much we needed you.”
I raise my eyebrow at his tone, but stay silent, hoping he will continue. I don’t know a whole lot about this bunch except what Sebastian and Xane have told me. It would be nice to be clued in, so I know just what I have let myself in for.
“If I had known about you, I could have protected you,” he continues, and I am stunned that he said that. I got the impression he would no sooner stake me than look at me. “I could have prevented you from becoming this revolting, tainted creature. I have a job in front of me to convince the rest of my people to accept you. And they aren’t going to do it with you looking like that,” he sneers at me.
Oh. And there I thought he cared for a minute.
“What is wrong with the way I look?” I ask, offended.
“You look nothing like me.” He gestures up and down at me in exasperation. “Even if you looked like your mother it would be better than that. I mean how did that even happen?”
That? I finger my long blonde ha
ir and pout. “Somehow I took after my human parents,” I say quietly.
“Yes, well, pity that there isn’t anything we can do about that Saxon lineage,” he says and sighs.
Actually, there is, but I am reluctant to help this beast in any way. I sigh and attempt to Shift anyway to look like I belong. To my surprise it works. Long, straight black hair and violet eyes. I change nothing else about myself though. I figure it will be easier for me if they accept me. I fear as it is, the contempt is going to outweigh the acceptance. He stops dead as he looks at me. “How did you do that?” he demands.
“Just a little gift I picked up from my mother's side,” I say and shrug.
“Well, that is much better. At least you now look like I own you,” he says.
Own me? I square my shoulders to blast him that no one owns me when he adds quietly, “This is going to be difficult enough for my wife. I would ask that you show her some respect and not flaunt these unFae abilities of yours.”
I close my mouth as I never even thought about him having a wife, much less caring about her feelings. “Of course.” I clear my throat.
“While we are still down here, can you do something about your attire? You look like a heathen,” he says.
I pull my face at him. “What is deemed sartorially acceptable?” I ask, sarcastically.
“A gown for a start. Women here know their place,” he says.
Oh, like that, is it? I take in his own clothes and magick up something that I assume is Fae approved and he nods at my deep purple gown which shows off my now, thank the old gods, complete Fae markings, but covers up the Dragon on my back. “Good choice,” he says as I spin in a sarcastic circle for him. “The only thing the Faerie hate more than Vampires is Dragons.”
And with that he stalks off in giant strides, which has me running to keep up.
We don’t speak further as we ascend the million stairs to the surface. Probably an exaggeration, but bloody hell if it didn’t feel like it. Who knew you could be so far underground and not have your arse burning off with the flames of Hellfire?
“I will show you to your room,” he says. “Please stay there. I don’t want you wandering around causing trouble and getting everyone’s skirts in a bunch. We will have a proper naming ceremony for you tomorrow where I will introduce you as my daughter and I will arrange for the Coronation the day after.”
“Naming ceremony?” I ask as he pushes the door to the dungeons open and leads me through the extensive kitchens. Why are dungeons always off kitchens no matter which dimension you go to?
“Yes. You are a Fae Princess and you will have a Fae name,” he says haughtily.
Oh, for fuck's sake, I groan. Another name. Like I don’t have a gazillion as it is. “Can’t you just pick one from the numerous I already have?” I ask hopefully.
“Are any of them Fae?” he snaps.
I shrug. “I don’t know, do I?” I snap back.
“Doubtful. Besides, I already have the name you will be called and there will be no arguments.” He holds his hand up as I open my mouth to argue. “None, young lady. You will learn respect while you are here.”
“Fine, as long as you respect me, I will respect you,” I retort.
He glares down at me from his six feet seven inches. I was right in my assumption that he is the same height as Fraser was. I can see that he isn’t used to be spoken to in such a manner, but just this side of fleeting, I see a glimmer of amusement. Good, I can work with that.
“Look, Drake,” I say, pulling myself up to my full five feet three inches. No way am I calling him “Dad.” “I am the Queen of the Underworld,” I start, knowing I don’t act much like it most of the time but, “I hold the same station as you do, and I will be treated accordingly.”
He glowers at me. “You are Princess of this Court and I will treat you accordingly to that post.”
“Are you this much of a pain in the arse with your sons?” I ask him, suddenly getting fed up with his superior attitude.
He lets out a loud guffaw, to his own, never mind my, astonishment. “If I asked them, they wouldn’t tell me…because they have respect,” he says.
“No balls more like,” I grumble. “You say jump and they scramble to be the first to say how high. You need me here to give you a challenge. I stay now because I want to, not because you threaten me. How many do you have anyway?”
“As delighted as I am that you are taking your duty seriously now, you will tone down the vulgar language. It isn’t fitting for a lady of the Court,” he says sternly.
“Whatever,” I say and shrug. “How many?”
“If you are asking how many sons do I have, I have twenty-seven.”
“Wow, that’s…a lot.” I swallow loudly.
“Indeed. More than we wanted, but when each one came out a boy, we had to keep trying. We sadly gave up eighteen years ago,” he says with sorrow.
“Oh,” I say, feeling a bit bad for him and his poor, unwanted sons.
“But here you are,” he says brightly. “Living proof that I didn’t fail my people. Only my wife,” he adds quietly.
“You didn’t fail your wife. She failed you,” I say and then bite my lip as his face goes fierce and he stops walking and steps closer to me.
“If I ever hear you talk about Maurelle that way again, I will make the beating your sire gave you look like a cut lip,” he threatens.
“All right, keep your pants on. I was trying to make you feel better. To let you know you didn’t fail. You have a daughter and I will do my duty by you.” I am shocked to realize that I mean every word. Who knew this mean, somewhat cruel stranger could invoke a feeling of loyalty in me?
“Yes, well, don’t expect any thanks from me. This is far from an ideal situation.” He all but punches the poor bedroom door off its hinges before he shoves me roughly inside. He also steps in and closes the door. “You are here to wed and bear a child and then you are free to leave, never to return.”
“Excuse me?” I ask, a bit slow on the uptake.
“Your presence will not be required once the child is born. Maurelle and I will raise it as our own,” he says.
“Err, I don’t think so, pal,” I say, stepping forward. “First things, there isn’t going to be a child and second, even if there was, you would have to pry it from my cold, dead hands.”
“Not a problem,” he says, and I gape at him. “The child will grow up Dark and a true Fae to take over. Neither you, nor the Light, will have any part in its upbringing.”
“My parental rights aside, I think you will find that any Light bearing Fae child will have Aelfric beating down your door to get to,” I say fully confident of my words.
“I’m not concerned about Aelfric,” he says dismissively and then frowns. “Kalen on the other hand will be more of a problem. One that you will see doesn’t cause me grief.”
That gives me pause. Sebastian is more of a threat than his father? How come? What secrets is he still hiding from me? Whatever it is, I will beat it out of him when I kick his arse for betraying me.
“Must we discuss my uselessness now and ruin what has thus far been such a pleasant afternoon?” I say, changing tactic.
He smiles at me. “You aren’t completely useless, my dear. We do still need you to create the child. You will be treated well, want for nothing, looked after and cared for until the baby comes, but then you are surplus to requirements.”
“What if you actually grow to like me and want me to stick around?” I say with narrowed eyes. I know he is trying to get to me. I have witnessed master manipulation at the hands of my sire for a thousand years. If he thinks he is going to hurt me with his words and turn me into a weeping little girl begging for Daddy’s approval, he is sorely mistaken.
“Stranger things have happened,” he admits, and I see it again, that small glimmer of amusement. “However, I think that I will send you packing myself the second you can stand up after giving birth. I can tell you are going to be a major pain in my ass u
ntil that day comes.” He grins at me, his sharp teeth flashing before he adjusts his features back to their usual sneer. Oh, yeah, I had him pegged. One thing I am good at, well, actually, I am good at many, many things – no false modesty here, remember – is being able to get away with defying authority. Men like Drake, like Constantine, and a hundred other intimidating, smug, arrogant beasts that I have come across over the years like a challenge. They get bored after centuries of having everyone falling all over themselves to please them. Along comes the pretty little girl with the delicate looks and smart mouth and it twists them into knots. Delights them even. I think I am going enjoy twisting Drake into a big ball of yarn that my inner kitty can play with. I think he is going to enjoy it even more. For all of his harsh words, he wants a daughter he can dote on. It isn’t just about duty to him, no. He has protested too much that this is all it is to him.
“Well, never let it be said that I didn’t make an impression,” I say, uncrossing my arms.
“Oh, I don’t think anyone can ever say that about you. Trouble is, your first impression leaves a lot to be desired,” he retorts.
I smirk at him and he turns to leave. “Flat shoes only from tomorrow, please. You will abide by our dress code.” And he slams the door shut, but not before I got a peek at the not one, but two, guards stationed outside my door. He wasn’t kidding about not having me wandering around.
Dress code, my arse. Repression more like. I sit on the bed and stare woefully at my Louboutins before I take them off. Once again, I am going to be the shortest shit at the party. I could make myself taller, but I really don’t want to change myself any more than I have to for him.
I sigh and decide to see just how tall everyone is tomorrow. Surely, they can’t all be Drake’s height, there must be some folk round here more my size. I flop back to the bed and receive an unwelcome guest.
“Fuck off. Turncoat,” I snarl at Remiel, who positions himself in a matching pose to mine on the bed, staring the ceiling.
“Language, Alice,” he tuts.