Chapter 31
As it turned out, leaving Faerie was even less fun than entering it had been. Mom wasn’t drunk, but Bháin’s reprogramming made her tipsy. He pumped her full of enough feel-good vibes she reached the tether convinced she was on an excursion in Chichen Itza to see the temple ruins. Bháin must have sent her cruising to Cozumel. That or her subconscious was hard at work explaining the jungle-like climate of Spring.
The way her eyes kept crossing as we trekked through Winter made me think that portion of the journey was a blur. She fussed when we put layers on her and complained when we took them off, but she kept rolling with the punches and never once lost the glassy stare making guilt simmer in my gut.
Ahead, the forest hunched over the remains of what resembled a stone arbor carved with detailed Celtic knot work. Thick pillars formed a neat circle while stout beams crisscrossed over their tops in a failed attempt at holding the encroaching forest at bay. The effect reminded me of wisteria back home. During the spring, it crept up trees and into houses, curling its tendrils into whatever the wind blew it against and claiming the space as its own. It was an invasive species in the south, a gorgeous pest with lush purple blossoms that hung like ripe grape clusters from elegant, verdant filigree vines.
I touched a curling green frond. “I didn’t notice how beautiful this was before.”
“You were too disoriented.” Rook’s wary gaze swept over the trees to the pillar then back to me. “We aren’t alone. Grab your mother, and I will do what I can to hold them off while you cross. When you reach the other side, go straight to the magistrates. They hear all the gossip in Faerie. They know by now what’s happened. They can help.”
“Okay.” After facing the High Court—twice—the magistrates seemed tame. “I can do that. This tether ties to the same spot as where we left, right? It will spit us out on conclave grounds?”
“There are surer routes in Winter and Autumn,” he admitted, “but none are safe for you now.”
“We should go.” Diode prowled a circle around Mother. “Say your goodbyes.”
Rook handed me the leather satchel Bháin had packed before we left Winter. It was filled with my newly acquired skins and some of Mom’s belongings. I strapped it on and looked up at him. “It’s been real.”
He tilted his head. “Real what?”
“Eye-opening.” I scuffed my feet, ready to go but having trouble leaving. “Do we hug or what?”
He eyed my knee. “You’ll understand if full-body contact with you makes me nervous.”
“Fair enough.” I waved at him while I backed toward Diode. “You’ll be in touch, I assume?”
Rook cleared the distance between us in two steps, hooked an arm behind my back and lifted me against him. His head dipped, those hungry eyes of his daring me to protest. “Sooner than you think.”
His mouth feathered over mine, his unexpectedly tender kiss dragging a soft moan past my lips. That sound of encouragement had his grip tightening, his hands molding me against him. His tongue slid between my lips, hot and wet and reverent in a way that set a little warning voice screaming in my head.
I broke the kiss, twisting out of his grasp and crushing my eyes shut against the implications.
Diode’s roar peeled them wide open in time to see him lunge at me. I dove aside, rolling over the mossy ground, shoving to my feet and bolting toward Mom. With her tucked behind me, I sought out Diode, who wrestled with a thorny snake. Made of vines, it hung from the arbor. It was thicker around than my waist and striking faster than my eyes could track. A second snake—or its second head?—hissed at Rook.
“Stay inside the arbor,” he shouted at me.
“Not hardly.” I didn’t know how to work a tether. If that snake swallowed Diode or Rook, I was stuck here with Mom, and she wouldn’t stay in her trance forever. I grasped her shoulders. “Stay put.”
She blinked but offered no resistance. Please let one thing go right.
Shoving fear for her aside, I murmured my Word and peeled the glove from my hand. The snake raised a thick hood around its head. Venom dripped from its fangs. Its strikes came faster and faster.
No time to worry about them either. While Diode and Rook distracted the sharp end, I had to find its body. If I put my hand on it, I could kill it. Probably. I had never tried killing a plant, let alone a sentient one.
I shuddered. That was one skin I wouldn’t be taking home with me.
Darting behind Rook, I ran into the forest and circled back through the trees until I stood in front of Diode and behind the snake. Its body was thick and scaly, its flesh the bright color of new growth. As I crept sideways, I tracked its movements until the vine wrapping the trunk in front of me flexed.
“Got you,” I whispered.
Lunging for the base of the tree, I closed my hand around the vine and force-fed magic down its length. Mottled flesh turned black. Brittle roots pushed from the ground and hardened under my feet. The great snake coiled in on itself and died. Once it stopped moving, I jogged around the tree trunk.
I examined Mom, then Diode and then Rook. “Is everyone okay?”
Mom continued gazing at whatever image her mind’s eye conjured for her. Diode shook out his fur then limped back to her side. Rook scooped pale blue gel off his face, revealing pocked scarring.
He caught me staring. “The venom burns, but I will heal.”
“Thierry,” Diode called. “Where there is one, there will be another. Thorn vipers nest in pairs.”
“He’s right.” Rook wiped his hands on his pants. “Get inside and I’ll send you home.”
Home. I hungered for it so much the word made my mouth water. “What about you?”
His swollen lips twitched. “I’m surprised you care.”
“Don’t be.” I huffed. “You helped sweet-talk the consuls into a twelve-month reprieve, which I won’t thank you for—not because you’re fae—but because this was your fault in the first place.” I pointed a stern finger at him. “Be useful and do something about the other thousand-plus months left in the bargain.”
As I stepped under the arbor and linked my arm through Mom’s, Rook activated the tether.
The last I saw of Faerie was my fae husband’s melancholy smile.
I couldn’t sleep. After five hours of cross-examination by the magistrates, I ought to be exhausted, but I was wired. I still had a job. That was the good news. Whether they let me back into the field with my new status was up for debate.
They offered me an office job, but paper pushing wasn’t my thing. I wouldn’t last a week behind a desk, even with Mable for company. Plus, no bonuses.
I yawned long and loud, trying to fool myself into being tired. No dice. I was wide awake.
The night had ticked past in silence until I couldn’t stand the quiet. I had to escape my apartment. As glad as I was to see Mai, my heart felt scoured. I was too raw inside, and not even her stash of Sweet Dreams wine quieted the chaos revolving through my thoughts. Rook, the Hunt, Mom, the High Court, Shaw, Rook, Macsen, the dead princes, Shaw. Rook, Rook, Rook. The mantra had pushed me into the elevator and up to the apartment over mine.
If the door had been locked, I might have gone back to my room. But it wasn’t, and I didn’t.
That’s how I found myself taking comfort from the worn brocade couch Rook had abandoned in the same spot as where he conjured it, staring out his window into the calm dark of the sleeping city.
Mom was tucked into her bed at her house, sleeping off the hellacious vertigo she blamed on the cruise ship. Courtesy of the conclave, her yard was sporting a half-gnome bodyguard able to keep her property under surveillance twenty-four seven. Yeah, I laughed too until the cherubic lawn ornament quadrupled in size and lifted my car over his head…with one hand. Sven Gardener was one scary dude.
The sharp trill of my current ringtone had me patting down the cushions to find my cellphone.
“Hello?” I breathed against the screen while sliding it up to my ear.
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br /> “Thierry.”
“Shaw?” My heart thudded painfully. He had been the one face missing from my welcome party. I even called him when he didn’t call me. All I got was a canned message from his cell carrier. “Why aren’t you answering your phone?”
“It’s broken.”
Relief that he hadn’t been avoiding my calls slid over me. “What happened?”
“I ran over it with the truck. A few times. Once I heard you had been taken.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” I said gently. “No one could have anticipated any of this.”
“I should have made the case a priority. I should have checked my phone more often. I should have—”
“No.” I pushed up straighter. “This was not your fault. None of it.”
“I shouldn’t have called,” slipped out on a tired breath.
Feeling hurt, I growled, “Why did you?”
“I thought I could…but I can’t. I might hurt someone.”
My pulse leapt again. “You’re hungry.”
No answer.
I rubbed my left eye with the heel of my palm. “I’ll tell security to let you up.”
Apparently Diode wasn’t enough to make the conclave comfortable. I had two new bodyguards. Mine were not as exotic as Mom’s gnomian guard. I had been issued a standard pair of sword-toting sidhe warriors. Unseelie, naturally.
“Security?”
“I guess you haven’t heard.” I pushed to my feet. “We’ll talk when you get here.”
“Thanks, Thierry.”
Don’t thank the fae sat on the tip of my tongue. Fae. I wasn’t all fae. I wouldn’t trade thanks for favors. That wasn’t me. I didn’t know how. I didn’t know if I could cash in markers even if I wanted to.
Tired of the caffeinated hamster running in the wheel of my thoughts, I swore. Enough semantics. I was too drained for this nitpicking, so I acted like a perfectly normal person and said, “You’re welcome.”
I hung up the phone before he got the chance to say more and padded over to the window. Whatever I hoped to see wasn’t there, and my chest felt heavier for taking that final glance. The temperature had dropped since I arrived, and standing so near the tall window meant that my breath fogged the glass.
Afraid my guards might skewer Shaw if he beat me to them, I turned to go. My hand was on the doorknob when a tapping sound made me turn. Black against the night, a large bird sat on the windowsill.
Above its head, in the fading puff of my chilled breath, was written a familiar endearment: a stór.
A neat trick for a bird, especially considering the condensation was on my side of the glass.
I crossed to him and ducked my head until I was at his eye level. “I’m not your darling.”
He fluffed his silky feathers and cawed once before vanishing into the darkness.
I don’t speak bird, but I think his cawing laughter called me a liar.
Lie Down with Dogs
Black Dog, Book 2
Lie Down with Dogs Blurb
Black Dog, Book 2
With tentative peace established in Faerie, Thierry returns to her job as a conclave marshal in Texas while the countdown to her coronation begins. But what happens in Faerie doesn’t always stay in Faerie. A crown wasn’t Thierry’s only souvenir from her trip. Her new husband, Rook, is scheming again, and this time his plans are invading her dreams.
When her best friend throws a beachside going-away party, Thierry is grateful for the distraction from Rook…and from Shaw. But her presence in Daytona rouses an old evil, one who wants the future queen as the crown jewel of his private collection.
Chapter 1
“Three wishes my ass,” I muttered while crawling on my hands and knees behind a crate full of women’s underthings. I snatched a pair of beige granny panties off the pile and used a plastic clothes hanger to wave them like a control-top flag. “Truce,” I yelled at the djinn. “Put down your weapon.”
“Hey, there you are. Come on out, dollface. The party’s over here.” His deep tone cracked when he laughed, shooting his voice two octaves higher. “Besides, it ain’t a weapon if you’re born with it.”
If I rolled my eyes any harder, I’d be examining my frontal lobe.
His chuckles tapered into a slow exhale. “I just wanted to have some fun.”
I bet. The exposed skin from my left elbow down to my wrist was shiny pink and still smarting from the scalding blast of super-heated vapor he had fired at me when I attempted to apprehend him. Who knew tarnished lamps made such versatile weapons?
“I won’t hurt you,” he promised.
Uh-huh, right. Djinns were liars and manipulators, much like my estranged pseudo husband. Not that I was hauling around emotional baggage with the Prince Regent’s name on the tags or anything.
“Lower your weapon and put your hands behind your head,” I called. “Kick the lamp to me.”
“Play with me. It’ll be our little secret.” His voice dipped. “No. Make that our big secret.”
Great. Not only was Herbert a teenage djinn on a crime spree, he had compensation issues too.
A lesser known fact about djinns was if you attempted to gain control of a magic lamp and failed, not only did your wishes go unfulfilled, but you accrued a debt equal to theirs. The tables turned, and the victorious djinn could then compel you to grant them three favors. I was just spitballing here, but I got the feeling Herb’s wish list involved me, the risqué contents from one of the crates scattered throughout the warehouse, and the sexual education he had acquired via the Internet. Thanks, Tumblr.
The crate in front of me shimmied while faint pink mist smelling of roses spilled over its sides. Well, that explained a few things. Being his age was hard enough without having floral-scented mojo.
“You still want to rub my lamp, right, baby?”
Yeah, Rook, the aforementioned pseudo husband, would love hearing how I was the first girl to spit-shine this guy’s lamp. Rook would kill Herbert, and I don’t mean that in a cutesy newlywed kind of way. I mean Rook would literally end him. He was a death portent, like me. Killing was his thing.
It was my thing too, sometimes, but at least I was conflicted about it.
Through a crack between crates, I tracked Herb’s leisurely exploration of the storage warehouse for a major discount clothing chain. While perusing a bin full of thongs, he spun his lamp around his pointer finger. His face split into a grin as he lifted a sheer black teddy off the pile of lace and sateen.
After casting a sly look my way, he unzipped his pants and took his joystick in hand.
No. No. No. This was not happening. “Put that thing away. This is public indecency.”
“Don’t be mad, sweet cheeks.” He flashed me a full-frontal nightmare. “We’re private here.”
I covered my eyes. I had to. Please God, don’t let that be the last sight I behold. At nineteen, I wasn’t much older than Herb. The gap in our ages was only two years. But for pity’s sake. Grow up.
“You wanna see what you’re missing?”
Call it morbid curiosity, but vigorous grunting sounds dragged my hand down my face. It took a second for what I saw to register. I admit it, I stared. My mind spluttered no freaking way, refusing to process the information, while my eyes screeched make it stop, make it stop and begged to be gouged out.
Djinn and their lamps scoffed at the laws of physics. Otherwise, you couldn’t stuff a grown man or a woman into a six-inch space, even with magical lubricating mist. So part of me grasped that it was possible for a djinn to cram things larger than the circumference of their lamp spout into its opening.
But I had obviously never considered other possible uses for that hole that would occur to a teenage boy.
Herb’s energetic hip thrusting made me wince in sympathy, and I didn’t even have dangly bits. Seriously. Wouldn’t that much friction chafe? Finally, embarrassment won out, and I managed to tear my gaze from the wannabe porn star long enough to cook up a decent plan.
> Reeling in the fine silver chain around my neck, I fished a quarter-sized medallion from inside my T-shirt, the one sporting a heap of cartoon chickens and aptly emblazoned fustercluck, and closed my hand over it. My thumb found the familiar grooves where a plain triskele had been stamped into its center, and I worried the slight indention.
The magic-imbued pendant had come standard with the rest of the marshal equipment issued to me by the Southwestern Conclave after I completed the marshal academy. At the time, it had served one purpose. It summoned the Morrigan. But the Morrigan, who was now my mother-in-law, overlaid the original enchantment with a slightly less legal version as a welcome to the family gift the last time I summoned her. Now the talisman was a direct line to her—yay?—as well as a pocket portal that linked to the closet in my office.
I raised my left hand, spoke my Word, and the spell holding my glove in place relaxed. The dozens of intricate runes starting at my fingertips and creeping up my wrist cast soft emerald light that illuminated the area around me. I held the design on the tip of one finger against the triskele while picturing a small room with a locked door, a safe place where I could hide what I didn’t want found.
With my eyes shut, I imagined myself unlocking the door and reaching inside the room. I rifled through the gloom until I located what I was looking for—the sleek black pelt of a hound—and then I let myself have it. When I cracked my eyes open, dark fur overflowed my hand, pooling on my lap.
Soft footsteps had me twisting around to check on Herb. No sign of him, his lamp or the teddy.
Raising my chin, I inhaled the scents of starch, fabric softener…and Spicebomb cologne.
Time to put my plan into action. I lifted the skin and draped it across my back, tugging the nose over my head until I peered through the shriveled slits where its eyes had been. A few tense heartbeats later, it stuck, making me shudder while the world shifted from full color to muted yellows, blues and grays.
Dog Eat Dog World: Limited Edition Bundle (Black Dog) Page 34