My smile showed plenty of teeth. “I’m sure you’ll share when you’re ready.”
A sharp elbow sank into my side. “Behave,” Mai whispered.
“Gentlemen, meet our champion.” Kerwin’s smirk traveled the circle. “Thierry Thackeray.”
Champion sounded ominous. What hoops had they lined up for me to jump through next?
“Let us begin again.” Evander drowned out Kerwin. “The situation in Faerie has escalated since you were taken. As you have made no secret of your feelings for your husband, I feel this is a proper setting to announce rumors of the Rook’s death are circulating among the fae.” He studied me, expecting a reaction. I gave none. “In your absence, with the Rook missing and presumed dead, the Morrigan seized control of the throne. She has named herself as queen.”
All heads swiveled toward me. I met each gaze with a serene expression even as Righty’s parting shot rang through my head.
We are faithful to the crown and the one who wears it.
Well, this answered my earlier question about their loyalties.
Odhran and Daire belonged to the Morrigan.
“Rook’s death doesn’t make her queen.” I tamped down the dull throb of betrayal. “Faerie’s crown is won, not hereditary.”
One of the other fae leaned forward. “Are you aware of who shared the prison with you?”
I angled myself in his direction. “I was told they were all death-touched fae.”
“Aye, they were.” He nodded. “All were gods and goddesses, death portents or their offspring.”
Mai’s eyes rounded. “She was taking out the competition.”
Seething magic sparked in my palm. Linen deserved so much worse than the death I had dealt him.
“With neither the Black Dog nor his pup to intervene,” another fae said, “the Morrigan has adopted the old ways. She has seized control by force, and it will require force to wrest the title from her and supplant the true queen upon the Faerie throne.”
The moisture wicked from my mouth. “You want me to challenge the Morrigan for the crown?”
“It is yours.” The fae stared at me, brow wrinkling. “Do you not wish to challenge her?”
“The Morrigan was gifted the ability to cross realms by your father,” a third fae intoned. “She is able to cross his wards and manipulate his tethers, and a skill learned by one such as she is not soon forgotten. She has the advantage. She will enlist Unseelie insurgents and wage a war to win Faerie to her side, and then she will turn her gaze upon this realm. She harbors no love for humans and has no reason to spare them.”
Or us was implied.
“I barely survived Faerie the first time.” With the direction this conversation was heading, I was mentally preparing for round two. “Without Rook and Diode, I wouldn’t have escaped in one piece.”
Evander raised a hand for silence. “We would not send you to face an army without provisions.”
I leaned back in my seat, wishing I could sink into it and escape this mess.
“You’re proposing a suicide mission.” Mai’s voice carried. “The Morrigan can’t be killed.”
“She’s a death goddess,” I reminded the room. “Can she be snuffed out permanently?”
“There are two acceptable outcomes,” Kerwin announced imperiously. “Either the rightful queen of Faerie will seize her throne or the tethers into and out of Faerie will be severed so that no one can cross realms.”
I held very still and reevaluated the fae in this circle. They knew the threshold was Mac’s doing, or they wouldn’t have expected me to be able to counteract his magic. They knew how he laid those wards. They knew they were asking a blood price from me. Magic like his ran deep, and breaking them might break me in the process.
And not one of them cared as long as their hides were saved.
Burgeoning dread prompted me to ask, “What do these provisions entail?”
“A guide,” Evander volunteered. “One who is familiar with Faerie and who will provide for you.”
A headache blossomed in my temples. “That’s it?”
“Perhaps you ought to ask the guide’s identity before you dismiss him,” Kerwin advised.
Even knowing I would regret it, I asked the question. “Who is the guide?”
Evander motioned one of the fae toward the door. “Show him in.”
Audible gasps had me turning in my chair to examine the newcomer, but all I saw was a familiar neon-yellow cat who had evidently decided to grace the room with his presence. If he was the guide, I might consider the offer. Consider. Ha! Like any fae in this circle would give me an honest choice.
I wiggled my fingers at him. “Hey, cat.”
With an amused rumble in his chest, the cat replied, “Insolent pup.”
Spines stiffened and shoulders straightened in a panicked ripple throughout the room.
Thinking I must be missing something, I stared through the doors into the hall. Empty. Only the cat had been out there. Sure, he was big. Diode was a saber-toothed cat mutation à la Faerie. But that alone wouldn’t have caused eyebrows around the room to smack the ceiling when they spotted him.
I was missing something.
Twisting with him, I stroked a hand down his back when he walked past me and went to stand in the center of the circle. I exchanged a puzzled look with Mai then checked Shaw for his reaction. His expression gave nothing away, unless you knew him like I did.
Shaw had anticipated this exhibition.
Kerwin’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “I believe you two know each other.”
The cat glanced over his shoulder at me, and that one look tightened my stomach. “Yes.”
“Enough,” Diode’s voice boomed. “She is no mouse and I no cat to play such wasteful games.”
I tried to find the joke in that, but if there was one, it sailed over my head.
Violent shivers racked his furry shoulders down to his narrow hips, standing his shocking yellow fur on end. A whiff of familiar magic crackled in the air. Before I pinpointed the scent, an explosion of white light knocked me back in my chair.
I scrubbed my hands down my arms and wiped off the prickles of residual energy.
The sounds of chairs scraping in unison across the floor snapped my head up in time to watch as the fae slid from their seats onto their knees. I followed their stares to the center of the circle where a great cat had been a moment ago, where a man now stood, and my arms dropped along with my jaw.
Luminescence writhed at his feet, black and glittering. Magic poured to the ground from jagged, raw runes that looked carved into his left hand by a broken-fingered butcher wielding a butter knife.
Dark emerald eyes gazed back at me, unblinking. Thick black stubble shaded the man’s scalp, and his height made staring up at him painful. He wore dark wash blue jeans with a white T-shirt and a crisp button-down that brought out the color of his eyes. But his scuffed brown leather boots kept drawing my eye. Not them so much as the mound of rumpled neon fur draped across their toes and wedged under his heels.
“Hello, Thierry,” the man said when it became obvious I was incapable of speech.
I did what any daughter would have done in my shoes.
I got up and left.
Chapter 24
Jogging down the stairs kept me a beat ahead of the hot tears fuzzing my vision. I am not crying. Halfway to the bottom, I slammed into a petite woman and sent her staggering into the opposite wall.
“Sorry,” I mumbled on my way past.
“Thierry?” Her timid voice called after me, “Is that you?”
Something familiar about her…
“That’s me.” After flicking the moisture from under my eyes, I turned around and faced her. “Do I know you?”
Her skin was so pale she appeared bone-white at first glance. Beneath her makeup, her skin held faint grayish tones. Unseelie then. Her eyes were heather gray, and her lips were painted a soft pink shade. A long braid of midnight hair hung over her shoulder
, complementing her stark black dress and ballet flats.
A blush swept color into her cheeks. “I’m Branwen.”
“Oh. Oh. Hi.” I initiated a hug that left her smiling. “I didn’t recognize you without the rock wall.”
Her laughter eased the knot of anger tightening my chest.
“You’re in a hurry.” She glanced the way I had come. “I was hoping we could talk.”
Wood planks groaned overhead, and steady footsteps followed.
I eased down two more steps. “Would you like to come into my office?”
Her eyes sparkled. “Yes, I believe I would.”
“It’s right this way.” I led her down another flight, through a tight doorway, and into a room that smelled like the man I was trying to escape. I pointed to the empty task chair. “Please, have a seat.”
A twist of my wrist and a murmured Word activated the spell built into the walls and guaranteed us temporary privacy.
Normally, I would have sat behind the desk, but the oversized leather chair mocked me. Stocked with my father’s belongings, the office had always seemed eager for his return. Today it would get its wish.
A low growl climbed up the back of my throat.
Branwen paused with a hand on her chair. “Are you sure now is a good time?”
“I heard surprising news today.” I arranged my lips into a smile. “I’m just tense, that’s all.”
I crossed to her and perched on the edge of the desk so she didn’t have to stare so far up at me.
“News, yes, that’s why I’m here.” She sat and leaned close. “I heard you were going to Faerie.”
“Who told you—?” I took a calming breath. “The short answer is I haven’t decided yet.”
She linked her hands in her lap. “I hope you consider it.”
A sense of foreboding swept through me. “What stake do you have in the outcome?”
Branwen blinked up at me. “Surely you’ve heard.”
“I’ve heard a lot today.” None of it good.
“The magistrates summoned me to say my brother is dead.” Her chin lifted. “They’re wrong.”
“Your brother?” I dropped my head into my hands. No effing way. “I don’t suppose by some small chance your brother is Rook?”
What had Linen said there at the end?
It was a mistake placing the crown jewels of my collection together.
Crown jewels. The Morrigan’s daughter and the Morrigan’s daughter-in-law.
“Don’t mourn him.” A small hand covered my knee and squeezed. “Rook isn’t dead, Thierry.”
Once I smoothed my incredulous expression, I peeked out at her. “How can you be so sure?”
“This.” A teardrop-shaped pendant hung from her fingers on a sleek, black chain. The latticework setting clutched a faceted ruby the size of my thumbnail, and the stone pulsed with faint crimson light. “I used to dream of the day I would escape Faerie, escape my mother. I hoped Rook would leave with me, but he thought she would be more willing to let me go if he stayed behind. He thought he could protect me better from Faerie.” She handed the necklace to me. “Before I left, he gave me this.”
The metal was warm to the touch, and slight vibrations pulsed through the stone. “It’s a heartbeat.”
“His heartbeat,” she confirmed. “He had one made for himself as well.”
“This explains a lot.” I passed it back, suppressing a shiver. All this time, he had known she was alive. No wonder his belief hadn’t wavered. His mistake was in thinking the Morrigan had brought her home to lock her away in the fae realm instead of caging her in this one. “So you left Faerie, and then what? I’m guessing your mother found you.”
And then the Morrigan had punished Branwen, because inflicting pain was what the Morrigan did best.
“A year and a day after I fled, Faysal came for me. Mother was so furious.” Branwen wore her tears with pride. “After escaping Faerie, I married a fierce chieftain of the gray men, Dónal O’Leary, instead of the Unseelie prince she had chosen for me. She believed the prince, Iasan, was poised to win the hunt, and I cost her influence such a position would have given her, but my heart belonged to Dónal.”
They had fallen for each other, defied the Morrigan, and their love had cursed them both.
“Kerwin explained your situation to me.” Her finger traced the stone’s facets before she clasped its chain behind her neck. “I understand now why what I confided about the incubus distressed you.”
That Kerwin. He was one super helpful guy.
I chose my statement with care. “My relationship with Rook was—is—complicated.”
Figuring Kerwin had already provided her with the official version of events, I decided Branwen should also hear my side of things. As calmly as possible, I outlined how I came to be Mrs. the Rook. I pushed through, adding details I hadn’t told anyone else—even Mai—because Branwen appeared so hungry for news of him. Even though my story wasn’t flattering, she was a rapt audience until the end.
By the time I finished, Branwen’s cheeks were flush and her lips pressed into invisibility.
Certainty flashed in her eyes. “The Morrigan forced him to do it.”
The polite thing to do was keep my mouth shut, so I did. Mom would be proud.
Branwen tapped my knee. “Rook wouldn’t have forced you if he had known about the incubus.”
That was debatable. Rook was charming and handsome, but he was also manipulative and vain. And he had known about Shaw. He just wasn’t sure how firm the ex was before boyfriend.
“What Rook did saved my life, but I won’t lie to you.” I sat up straighter. “I want out.”
“Being used as furtherance for another’s ambition is a cruel game.” As her story illustrated, she had experienced my quandary firsthand. “I don’t hold your animosity toward Rook against you.”
“I appreciate that.”
A tart smile told me she read my sarcasm just fine. “After our discussion, I realize this is awkward, but I must try. Though this wouldn’t benefit you at all—may in fact hinder you—I have to ask.”
I cracked an honest grin. “I doubted this was a social call.”
“I don’t wish to offend you by offering—” she ducked her head, “—but I will pay you any price you name to bring my brother back to me. I don’t dare return to Faerie, Mother would kill me, but if the tethers are truly cut, Rook will be lost.”
“They’re still discussing my fate upstairs.” Right now the issues being debated might save or damn humanity. Rook and I were both casualties in the making. “I doubt a rescue mission is on the table.”
“I’m not asking you to divert your mission to search for him,” she rushed to add. “I only mean if the situation arises…if you see an opportunity to save him and if you think it possible, will you try?”
I resisted the urge to fidget. “I try not to make promises I can’t keep.”
“I understand.” She wrapped her arms around her middle. “I’m leaving today. It’s best if no one knows where I go, magistrates included.” She produced a small, pink conch shell charm and offered it to me. “Summon me once my brother’s fate has been determined. Please.”
A spurt of magic expanded the shell to fill my palm, attuning itself to my magical signature, before it shrank again. “However it goes, I’ll be in touch.”
“You have my gratitude.” Her gaze slid to the door then back to me. “I should get going.”
Wary of who awaited me on the other side, knowing I had to face him sooner or later, I escorted her to the hall. “Safe travels.”
A glimmer of hope lit her smile. “To you as well.”
Finding the hall empty, I stood in the doorway and watched her leave. The bright-sharp scent of magic launched me into a sneezing fit. A thick rectangular box like the kind used for gifting sweaters sat on the chair where Branwen had sat. A simple card rested on top of it emblazoned with my name. I flipped it open.
On the day I was freed, I waded
into the sea and summoned my Dónal. He told me merry tales of his life and family. We laughed as though we had never been parted. Forever isn’t as long as the old songs would have us believe. My Dónal died in my arms, set free on the same day as me.
My eyes prickled through to the end.
We had an understanding, he and I. Despite what the old lore warned, his pelt was his. I never used it to bind him to me. His love was more precious for it was freely given. Now that silky fur is all that remains of the man I spent a lifetime loving and will mourn each day until forever ceases. I will treasure my memories, but I would be grateful if you accepted this endowment. It would only molder with me. I hope very much you wear it again. Through you, my Dónal will live on. Take care, sister.
I lifted the thin paper lid of the box, pushed aside the tissue paper and stroked the soft gray pelt.
“A gift from the gray men?” My father’s rich voice rang with power.
“Huh.” Taking my time to pack it away, I flexed my fingers to stop their trembling. “The cat doesn’t have your tongue after all.”
Frustrated magic washed from the man behind me to prickle my skin.
“I admit my deceit.” His boots thumped closer. “I spelled the skin to prevent myself from speaking about my plans with you while wearing it. It was a necessary deception to earn your trust. I regret the lengths I was forced to go in the name of protecting you.”
I made a noncommittal sound and smoothed the lid back onto the box.
“Selkie pelts have their own magic.” He stopped on the edge of my periphery. “You’ll have to tame it before you wear it or the first time you get it wet with saltwater, the fur will dive to the bottom of the sea and drown you.”
I turned and studied him. “Are you serious?”
His nod was curt. “I learned the hard way.”
I anchored my hands on my hips. “Yeah, well, that makes two of us.”
He hooked his thumbs through his belt loops. “You’re angry.”
“I’ve surpassed angry. I’m beyond pissed. This is me having a freaking nuclear meltdown.”
He nodded. “I should not have tricked you.”
I snorted. “You think?”
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