His expression shifted, and he let the question slide. “Drink.”
“Not happening.”
“You seem to be under the mistaken impression that you have a choice.” The fleshy appendage hissed through his lips, snakelike and threatening. “Perhaps I have been too lenient with you. Perhaps you don’t respond as well to the niceties I expected someone of your social status to appreciate. More’s the pity.”
He snapped his fingers, and Jenna lunged at me. She palmed my scalp and yanked my head back with one hand. Condensation lubricated the glass, and she jerked it out of my hand in one smooth motion.
I had a choice to make. I could hurt her, or I could let her hurt me. No matter who she was to Shaw, it wasn’t in me to accept this kind of punishment and not fight back. Time to summon reinforcements.
“Tahlil paque.” To me.
My voice rang clear and strong through the room.
And nothing happened.
Linen laughed under his breath, savoring my confusion. “I wondered when we would get to this part.”
“What have you done to my guards?” I snarled.
“So protective.” He crossed to me and brushed his bony knuckles along my cheekbone. “Would you feel better if I let you see them? If you knew both males were perfectly well and unharmed?”
I nodded as much as I was able. Jenna wasn’t letting go. Smart woman. The element of surprise only worked once. No matter. Backup was coming. Between the guards and me, we could take Linen. Jenna too. If we had to.
Linen spoke louder so his voice carried through the doorway. “Odhran, Daire, come in here, please.”
Righty and Lefty entered the room wearing somber expressions. Neither looked at me. Probably better that way. They needed to focus on the threat. Any minute now, they would draw their weapons.
Any minute now…
“There.” Linen patted Righty on the shoulder. “Is that better?”
“Hi, guys.” It was the best greeting I could manage while the not-exactly-a-zombie had my head cranked back, yanking a fistful of my hair out by its roots while she waited for further instructions.
However, it wasn’t enough for Linen, who lifted his own glass in a mock salute.
“Thierry, if you could only see your face.” He expelled a small, cruel laugh. “You trusted them. You’re still waiting for them to spring forward, swords drawn to disembowel me on their way to rescuing you.”
I felt the blood rush from my cheeks. “That was eerily similar to the scenario I had in mind, yes.”
“We are loyal to Faerie.” Righty cut his eyes toward me. “We are faithful to the crown and the one who wears it.”
I ran a finger across my forehead. “Last I heard they were sizing it to fit me.”
His gaze lowered, and he didn’t speak again. Lefty stared at me—hard—but he didn’t say a word.
Linen flicked a hand toward the door. “You may go.”
They nodded in unison and exited…without as much as a pinky wave at me.
Linen was right. Even now my nerves were strung tight, waiting, expecting the guards to smash the door into splinters, barrel in here and deck Linen before untying me. Then I would feel stupid for the doubt seeping into the back of my mind, making my mouth taste bitter with fear.
But they had left me. Left me.
What had Righty meant by saying he and Lefty were faithful to the one who wears the crown? Duh. How else would they have gotten this gig? The crown-wearer? That would be me. Yet here I knelt, alone and cold, on a hardwood floor with a parasite gloating down at me and a she-zombie cranking back my neck until vertebrae popped.
The more time that lapsed, the more certain I became they weren’t coming back.
Linen would expect me to ask, and so I did. “Do they work for you?”
“Not exactly.” His eyes rolled toward the ceiling. “They’re on loan.”
Yeah, to me. Or so I had believed. “They were assigned to me by the consuls in Faerie.”
Concern dripped from his words. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, I—” It hit me. “It wasn’t the consuls, was it? Rook arranged for them.”
Linen patted my cheek. “He did indeed.”
Parting words from my last dream came to me in a lucid snap.
She didn’t tell me.
“Rook relied on guards from his brother’s household.” The household he inherited when I killed Raven, a prince, and the rightful Unseelie heir to the throne of Faerie. “Guards who were loyal to Raven.”
She didn’t tell me.
The Morrigan.
“No, not Raven.” It was bigger than him. “The Morrigan.”
What hadn’t she told him? Which part? That my guards were deep in her pocket? He must have known. So either he accepted the risk on my behalf, or he was complicit. Had he known about Linen? Or had these machinations all been the Morrigan’s doing? And if the crown wasn’t mine, then whose was it?
Righty and Lefty—they must have been spying on Mai and me since day one. They were plants, obviously, but I figured they reported to Rook. Not this guy. Their betrayal explained how Linen knew where and when to put in an appearance at the hotel, and how he circumvented our Thierry-as-bait plan so easily. The guards had been feeding him intel. Easy enough when you can poof from one location to another.
“I understand you were unhappy with your marriage.” Linen’s mouth curled in an approximation of a smile. “That is no longer an issue. The prince regent will soon be a smudge on the annals of Faerie history. That leaves you free to—” he smoothed a hand down his shirt, “—enjoy the pleasures afforded you.”
Hot moisture leaked down my cheek, tears I blamed on Jenna’s grip scalping me. Stupid, stupid fae. Rook should have known better than to trust his mother.
“No tears.” Linen tutted. “The girl who gets her fondest wish can’t unwish it.”
I hauled my pendant from my shirt and pressed a thumb to its center. “I summon the Morrigan.”
He cocked his head, listening, waiting. “She appears to be otherwise occupied.” He wrested the medallion from me and studied it. “The conclave should have known better than to expect one such as her to come to heel when called by the half-bloods and exiles of the fae realm. That was their first mistake. The second was allowing your father to set his pathetic threshold with her standing on this side of it.” He dropped the necklace and shook his head. “They gave her this world.”
The shock of his implications jolted me. Mac was the one who set the threshold?
“You didn’t know.” He threw back his head and howled with laughter. “Macsen Sullivan loved this world, its people.” He pointed to me. “You’re living proof of his fascination with mortals. Maybe it was the hound in him. They are called man’s best friend, are they not?” Linen paced across the front of the room. “His inane rules not only applied to Faerie, but to the mortal realm as well. It’s his law the conclave adopted, and it was his decision to spill his own blood to create the threshold to Faerie, so that he would know who and what crossed into this world through his tethers.
“But Macsen was so flush with power in those days, so young to his new form and so eager to enact large-scale change that he forgot about the small things. He forgot those who were not fae were not his to command. He forgot those who were sworn to other gods were not his to control with his blood-red ink and paper skins.”
Linen’s tirade lasted until he ran out of breath. Good thing too. My brain was stuffed and couldn’t hold any more revelations.
My father had laid the threshold into Faerie.
My father.
The threshold into Faerie.
All this time I figured Mac had slipped out of Faerie on a lark, that he had been bored and came here to play human. But what if his purpose was greater than that? Instead of taking a vacation from his duties in Faerie, what if this had been part of them? Maintenance on this side of the threshold?
No wonder that particular feat wasn’t common knowledge. T
he power it must have cost…unimaginable. And that was the bottomless well from where my power came. No wonder the conclave wanted me kept close.
I swiveled my eyes to track Linen. “What does the Morrigan want with me?”
He kept quiet for so long my back spasmed from Jenna’s death grip on my hair. “The Black Dog’s blood mends the fence that keeps the monsters where he feels they belong. That’s why he ran. He knew the fae were done with their vows of peace and their subservience to humanity. The fastest way to sever those ties was to break the man responsible for them. Only we can’t seem to find him.”
My father was many things, but he was not a coward. “He’s hunting King Moran’s killer.”
“He witnessed the beheading.” Linen slanted a pitying glance my way. “That is a nonissue.”
Liar. Mac wasn’t a coward. Take Linen’s word for it? I think not. “Then why—?”
“He ran.” Linen walked two fingers through the air. “Tail tucked between his legs, he vanished. What in all the realms does the Black Dog covet? What does the man who distances himself from those he might be called upon later to end crave? Connection. And who in all of his long life did he experience such an event with? A human woman. From all the fae beauties at his disposal, women and men who would have served him until the end of time, he chose a mortal from this backwater realm to be his first and only lover.”
Childish hope sparked in my chest. First and only… “You can’t expect me to be sorry I exist.”
“Believe me.” He turned sincere. “No one is sorry for that.” He grasped my hand and lifted my wrist to his nose. His eyelids fluttered as he inhaled. “Sullivan’s blood runs in your veins. Not as rich as the source material, but we can make do when the time comes. It won’t take much. A few liters. It probably won’t even kill you.” He considered me. “Hmm. Do you know whether you’re immortal?”
Before I told him where he could stuff his immortality, he inclined his head, and Jenna clocked me in the temple. It felt like a sledgehammer, but it must have been her fist. While I was dazed, she jerked on my scalp harder until my spine bowed impossibly, then busted my lip with the glass’s hard edge as she poured the clear liquid down my throat while I coughed and spluttered. Being the helpful soul he was, Linen pinched my nose until I gasped for air. Jenna drained the dregs down my throat and then released me.
Glacial waters swept through my limbs, reminding me of the time I had fallen off a tower during marshal academy. I had ended up in the med ward, hooked to an IV that drip, drip, dripped icy relief into my veins.
Paralysis brushed chill fingers down the length of my body, and the eager magic building in my palm snuffed out and left me unable to move my hand, let alone remove my glove or say my Word.
The last thing I remember was the pity welling in Jenna’s eyes as she mouthed Forgive me.
Chapter 21
I woke inside the mouth of a frost giant who was suffering five-alarm halitosis. That’s how it felt anyway. Damp walls enclosed me. I figured that out when I jerked awake and headbutted the stone wall inches from the end of my nose. Whoever I had to thank for my new digs had stuck me inside of an upright box made from natural stone with walls I estimated to be three feet in width if my reach was any indication. I could stretch my arms overhead without touching a ceiling. I was five ten, so if this container had a lid, it was at least ten feet from the ground. There were holes drilled into the wall that let in fresh air and faint light. Normally, I cast my own light, but my magic was on the fritz. The concoction Jenna had force-fed me was wearing off faster now that I was conscious, but I was drained.
Hungry.
The walls were all that kept me on my feet, but I was sagging.
“Thank God—and anyone else listening—I’m not claustrophobic,” I mumbled.
“You’re new,” a tiny voice said from somewhere to my left.
I strained my ears to pinpoint the source. “Did you hear them bring me in?”
“No.” A soft feminine laugh echoed. “But only the fresh ones still believe in gods of any kind.”
That…was not reassuring. “Where are we?”
“A cavern, but I don’t know where.” She paused. “I was taken from New Haven Colony.”
I whistled long and soft. “How long have you been here?”
It took her a while to answer. “I don’t know.”
New Haven Colony sounded like it belonged on the page of a history book. It must have been somewhere in the northeast. Connecticut maybe? If that was true, she had been here a hell of a lot longer than Jenna’s ten years. Or was a hell of a lot older than her voice sounded. What had Linen said? I had gone without a drink for sixteen hours? That much travel time could have put us outside the state easy, but a Makara required land and sea, and Florida, being a peninsula, made an ideal location. “I was captured in Florida.”
Curiosity spiked her voice. “Do you think that’s where we still are?”
“It’s possible.” I shuffled closer to her voice. “Rock formations like these are unusual for the area, but they exist.”
“I was transferred from another collection. I’m not sure where, only that I wasn’t there long. Faysal, the fae who captured me, traded me to Balamohan.” Her voice quivered. “He has…particular tastes…and Faysal owed him a favor.”
Trading fae like baseball cards? That explained how Jenna made it here from Port Arkansas. Linen must have scooped her up too, but why? The Valkyrie angle? Did he have a type? What I wouldn’t give for a peek inside the other cells for clues.
Imagine an entire network of caverns with fae like him stocking them.
Shudder.
“I remember the walk to my cell,” she confided. “This cavern is enormous.”
“If we’re in a natural cave—” and it sounded like she would know, “—then I think I know where we are. There’s only one air-filled cave system in the state—the Florida Caverns State Park.” Mai and I had visited it once on our way to Panama City Beach. “It’s in the panhandle, near Marianna.” I exhaled on a laugh. “Not that knowing where we are helps much.”
“Knowledge is power,” she contradicted me. “You imparted more than I ever hoped to learn.”
With a lifespan like hers, she must be fae. “Can I ask you something?”
“Why not?” She exhaled on a tired laugh. “We have nothing but time.”
I thumped my head against the rock wall behind me and focused on not thinking about how long I had been trapped before regaining consciousness. Had a whole day passed since Linen took me out of Daytona? Two days? More? The darkness gave no hints, and my companion’s intel was woefully out of date. “Do you have any idea who Linen—um, I mean, Balamohan—has sworn allegiance to?”
More laughter carried to me, and this time it rang sharp with bitterness. “He forsook his goddess, his purpose. What he once was, he is no more. He is a parasite. He sustains himself with his collection.” A moment passed during which I worried she had lapsed into hysteria before she cleared her throat and continued as if her near loss of control never happened. “To answer you, his fealty lies with the Morrigan.”
Not good. If she was aware of the relationship between Linen and the Morrigan, it was much older than I first assumed.
“You mentioned a collection.” I braced myself. “How many of us are there?”
“Hundreds in this cave,” she answered in a small voice. “And all of us kin.”
I lifted my head. “Kin?”
“We’re all death bringers. That’s how he feeds. That’s what the Morrigan made of him. She was once the only death-touched goddess, you know. Then others arose and diminished her power, and then children of those gods, made with fae and humans, rose to prominence and weakened her further.” She sighed as she said, “She yearns for a time which no longer exists, rife with blood and violence. She clutched what tithes she was given to her chest, but once the Black Dog rose, peace reigned in Faerie, and her magic faded as his word became law and his legend took r
oot in the terrified hearts of the fae folk.”
If that was true, all of her sustenance was coming from the mortal realm. From the conclave. From me.
“She wants him,” she said, “wants all that he has.”
“She’s jealous of Macsen Sullivan?” The question was tinged with awe.
“Jealousy is a good word,” she mused. “It conveys her sense of entitlement.”
Centuries of careful planning was coming to a head, and all because of me.
I was the weak link in the unbroken chain spanning my father’s very, very long life. The resentment bubbling up in me since I realized my own father would have let me die to save his own hide cooled to a simmer.
Now I understood.
During his life as one of the Huntsman’s hounds, Mac had run with his pack through the mortal realm, collecting fae souls on All Hallows’ Eve. His ties to both realms were solid. Even as a hound, he had held authority here. It made sense his blood could ward this realm from Faerie. Tethers, I had assumed, were natural anchors that conclave outposts sprung up around, but what if I had it backward?
In my father’s house, I had walked down a hall filled with doors, and each door opened—not to another room—but to another place. Tethers operated on the same idea, but on a larger scale. What if Mac was responsible for stabilizing those too? It would explain how he could monitor the number of fae traveling to this realm at any given time. Though once they were here, they became the conclave’s problem.
One thing I knew for sure. If any fae who wanted to cross into the mortal realm could, humanity would be wiped out in a blink. I had to warn the conclave. Together we could make a stand. I just had to escape my cell in one piece and sidestep the Morrigan’s plans to use me as her backup sacrificial lamb first.
“What is your name?”
The timid voice snapped me from my thoughts, and I answered, “Thierry.”
“Thierry.” She pronounced it Tee-a-ree instead of Tee-air-ree like I did. “I’m Branwen.” Small, shuffling noises announced her movements. “We should rest now, before the feeding begins. Balamohan only ever visits when he’s hungry.”
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