Dog Eat Dog World: Limited Edition Bundle (Black Dog)

by Hailey Edwards

  “Master, are you certain you wish to interfere?”

  I jerked back around the corner at the sound of Bháin’s voice, slamming into Isaac, and locked gazes with a portrait across the way. A man dressed in black, one hand fisted in the flaming red hair of the troll he had just decapitated while the other shoved aside the body, gave the impression of staring back. A creeping sensation writhed over my body, and I tensed, half-expecting the macabre figure to yell a warning to his master.

  “Thierry sent these three here with a purpose,” a rich voice rolled through the room. “My dear wife is sly. Until I know the nature of their mission, I cannot allow them to proceed.”

  “Your former wife is as you say,” Bháin corrected, “most clever. Do you think you can discover their purpose?”

  “It’s been many months since I took a lover,” the man who must be the king murmured. “Why not this woman? I have never bedded her kind before, and the pillow talk will mitigate any unpleasantness should we prove incompatible.”

  I squelched a growl before it rose up my throat. Isaac wasn’t half as circumspect. As soon as the rumble left his chest, the conversation in the room died until the crackle of tussling elementals was all I could hear.

  The portrait turned smug, and I wanted to claw out his pompous eyes.

  “Did you secure our guests?” wondered the king.

  “The males, yes.” Bháin paused. “The female’s room I left unlocked in the event you wished to pay her a visit after dinner.”

  Dinner was starting to sound like a very bad idea. Sure, I enjoyed a good steak as much as the next warg. And yes, a full belly put me in a mood to love my fellow man. But no, not even prime beef greased my thighs open for strange fae.

  “Check the hall.” The king made it an order.

  Clipped footsteps rang out, and I pressed harder against Isaac, pinning him behind me, shielding him with my body. It would require precious time for me to shift, assuming magic in this world permitted the change, but I could defend him. I glanced over my shoulder, gauging the distance between our hiding spot and the first bend in the corridor.

  A clatter inside the room had the king snarling, and the approaching footsteps halted. “What are you doing here?”

  The cultured voice that answered was a familiar one, and if Isaac hadn’t wrapped a hand around my upper arm, I might have charged into the parlor and gone wolf on her feathery ass.

  One heartbeat passed. Then two. And, despite the gleeful portrait whose chill gaze burned like lasers, we remained undiscovered.

  “You are but warming the throne until the next true king is named,” Rilla, aunt to Prince Tiberius and the orchestrator of his abduction, pronounced. “You have reached too far by naming yourself ruler of Faerie.”

  Making the most of our reprieve, Isaac skirted me and knelt near my feet. He removed a quarter-sized object from his pocket that resembled a watch battery then pressed it into the snowy mortar used to stuff the spaces between the ice blocks in the walls. He touched a finger to his ear, nodded to himself and then gestured it was time for us to go. I almost fought him to eavesdrop longer, but he stood and stuffed a cold metal plug in my ear. The static made me wince. Clearly the earbud hadn’t been calibrated with hypersensitive warg hearing in mind, but the crackle of Rilla’s voice made the pain worthwhile.

  Isaac took my hand, and I let him guide me while I kept my attention on the conversation we left behind.

  The portrait watched us go, and I got the feeling it would be tattling on us at the first opportunity.

  “My darling wife would have been queen. I was her consort. It’s not so far a stretch. My arm isn’t tired at all.”

  “Rumor has it when she abdicated, she meant for you to be the new Unseelie consul, considering how the other met a rather questionable end while in your company,” she sneered. “You should have worn that mantle, though a half-blood’s presence would have made a mockery of the High Court, and been content. There hasn’t been an Unseelie King in memory, and we would all just as soon forget you as well.”

  “History is fascinating, isn’t it?” His voice was velvety soft and lethal. “According to our own laws, the legally recognized consort of a king or queen of Faerie can rule in their stead. This throne was hers, and it is now mine until the century her blood bought has been spent.”

  Rilla spluttered incoherent noises. “That’s why you wed that half-blood mongrel?”

  “Her name is Thierry, and she’s the Black Dog’s daughter, so I would watch my tongue were I you.”

  “Very well played, Rook Morriganson. You helped her attain the throne by winning the Coronation Hunt and then championed her right to abandon the crown. All along you were aware of a loophole that would enable you to claim the title your wife never wanted.” Her voice turned cruel. “Or was it you she never wanted? Not even the lure of a crown and kingdom could persuade her to stand by your side.”

  “Shall I escort her to the door?” Bháin offered. “Or perhaps I might suggest a tour of the kitchens? We do have guests, and roast pheasant is always popular.”

  Rilla hissed at the servant, but Rook only sighed. “Now, Bháin. We’ve discussed this. Guests are not food.”

  I got the sense the king was toying with her or Bháin or both. I doubted even the rules of hospitality most fae observed would save her if she ruffled his feathers. As a siren, with plenty of feathers of her own, she must be a pro. But pride in his machinations appeared to make him impervious to the dings Rilla attempted to inflict upon his heart.

  “She is not a guest, my lord.” Bháin sniffed. “Therefore, she is fair game.”

  Fair game. I smothered a laugh. It was kind of funny. I mean, she did shift into a giant golden eagle-looking thing.

  “She may not be a guest, but she does suffer impeccable timing,” the king admitted. “Do invite your spies in for a cup of hot tea, Rilla. They must be frozen from huddling outside Firn Hall on the off chance I do something worth reporting.”

  The siren didn’t dignify his subtle dig with a response.

  “I believe I will attend to the matter we previously discussed,” Bháin intoned. “If you will excuse me?”

  The king murmured a dismissal.

  “On the topic of unexpected visitors,” Rilla segued. “Who are you entertaining?”

  “That is none of your concern.” The king brushed off her question. “What matters now is your guest. How is he enjoying his new accommodations?”

  “He is melancholy over his kitchen maid lover we forced him to leave behind.” She scoffed. “I suppose he is at that age, but I had hoped for better. He’s not terribly ambitious or bloodthirsty. He seems content to mope and scribble bad poetry.”

  “Have you secured the girl? She might prove valuable leverage.”

  “Sadly, that card is off the table. We bargained her safety in return for his cooperation. So far, he has obeyed his agreement to the letter. Until that changes, so must we.”

  The king made a thoughtful sound that tapered into a sharp, fizzing crackle.

  “My lord.” Bháin’s voice broadcasted much louder than it had a minute ago. “I believe we may have a problem.”

  The connection severed with a crunch, and Isaac and I exchanged a frantic glance.

  “This is your op,” he panted, urging me into a run. “How do you want to handle this?”

  “The king’s in bed with the kidnapper. He’s in on the whole scheme. Plus, he wants in my pants. I’m done here.” I quirked an eyebrow. “You?”

  “Agreed. Let’s grab Enzo and go.”

  All I had to do to find our way back to my room was follow my nose. I darted inside then slung my pack on my shoulders and led the charge to the guys’ room. Enzo glanced over at us, his cheeks looking pinker. His herbal remedy must have done the trick. Good. That was one less thing to slow our escape.

  “Let me guess.” Enzo passed Isaac his pack while he shrugged into his own. “This is the part where we run.”

  I couldn’t
have said it better myself.

  Chapter 4

  Adrenaline jolted the wolf from her stupor, and I was relieved to feel the brush of her fur along the underside of my skin. She was antsy from weeks of confinement, and I owed her a shift, but I couldn’t afford to stop until we reached safety. Trusting her keen senses to guide us out, we entered the front hall before hitting our first obstacle. A hulking creature formed of packed snow guarded the door, a glaive in his fist. Armored with gleaming chain mail formed of crusted ice, he dripped on the side nearest a torch set into the wall.

  “This is new,” I said to the guys.

  “Most guards are meant to keep people out, not in.” Enzo approached with caution. “Can’t hurt to try.”

  The snowman extended the glaive, which was similar to a dagger mounted on a long stick, to bar Enzo from getting closer.

  “I guess that’s a no.” I cast about for another exit, but the peculiar estate seemed to only go in two directions at any given time. There was the path ahead, and there was the path behind. The king, it seemed, wasn’t fond of deviation. “Ideas?”

  “I’ve got one.” Enzo eyed the torch. “That’s real, right? Not an elemental on a perch?”

  I hadn’t noticed earlier, so I examined the flame and took a sniff. “Smells like steak cooking. The cloth must have been dipped in animal fat as an accelerant.”

  “Stand back. Get ready to make a break for it.” He urged us behind him and started a soft chant under his breath. “Or run for your lives. It could go either way.”

  “That’s comforting,” Isaac griped.

  “Got a better idea?” I elbowed him, but he kept quiet. “That’s what I thought.”

  A tendril of magic sprang from Enzo’s index finger, and his eyes widened. “That’s never happened before.” He didn’t let the strangeness slow him down. He resumed his murmurings, and the thread seeped through the air. When it reached the torch, it burst into flames then narrowed to a filament of red-hot fire. Enzo snapped the thickening cord at the snowman like a whip, and its length coiled around its icy hips.

  At first nothing happened. He was a beefy construct, and the lash of flame was stringy by comparison. Steam rose from the area where the ropelike magic struck, hissing and spitting as it was extinguished.

  “Well,” Isaac said, “that was impressive.”

  I elbowed him again, harder this time, and he winced. “At least he’s trying.”

  “Give it a minute,” Enzo huffed, breathing heavy.

  Footsteps rang out behind us. Bháin must have called in the reinforcements. I rushed the snowman, hoping to catch him in the gut with my shoulder then topple him while he tangled with the magical thread.

  “Dell, no,” Enzo cried. “You’ll get burned.”

  Too late. I was already in motion. Impact with the guard stunned me, and I bounced off him as the force sent the top half of the construct sliding in an opposite direction from the bottom. The whip had cut him through before it fizzled. Powerful magic indeed. As I watched, rubbing my tender shoulder, its head hit the tiles at its own feet. Once decapitated, it crumbled.

  “You are one scary witch, dude.” I shook off the pain, raised the heavy timber barring the door and shoved it open. A winter wasteland greeted us, the temperature outside a slap in the face compared to the tepid indoors. I drew in deep gulps of air, and my nose hairs froze. “I’m picking up traces of Rilla. She must have flown the coop when Bháin discovered us. We’ll have to move fast, or I’ll lose her scent to the winds.”

  Already the feather-and-lilac scent of her grew tattered as Winter roared around us. Nose to the wind, I picked my way over the frigid landscape. The guys stuck close behind and, eventually, were forced to each hook a finger through a belt loop in my pants. The whiteout made it impossible to see one another, and soon ice clogged my nostrils, making tracking impossible.

  With no clear direction, we trudged in the straightest line I could maintain and prayed we hadn’t been blown too far off course. A twinkle on the edge of my vision had me squinting against the flurries. A single flake, delicate and beautiful, whirled into view and drifted at the end of my nose. A silver glow emanated from its points, and it illuminated the darkness.

  “Too late, too late. You won’t escape,” a childlike voice singsonged. “You have angered the master. He comes for you.”

  “Shoo.” I flicked a wrist at her. At least I thought it was a her. The tone was feminine. “Your master can suck it.”

  The snowflake gasped with real affront and flittered away, one speck among millions.

  Doubting the guys had overheard, I plowed onward until my legs went numb. Only the weight tugging my pants lower on my hips confirmed Isaac and Enzo clung to me. I was too afraid to break and check on them. If I stopped moving, I might not start up again.

  Eventually, Enzo faltered, and he almost yanked me off my feet when he fell. His hand was frozen in a claw where it hooked to me, his skin blue and his lashes frosted. Isaac, afraid I was the one who had given out, gripped me around the waist to keep me upright. I pointed down, and he got the hint. We both knelt to check on Enzo.

  But the witch was nowhere to be found.

  I pawed at snowdrifts and raked through the ice with my fingernails. Isaac clung to my belt loop so we didn’t get separated, which meant he could only spare one hand to assist. I dug until I exhausted myself and dangerous sweat moistened my clothes. Isaac used up his reserves to execute a full shift into the blue-skinned beast from earlier, and he slung me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. I struggled, but he was stronger than me in this form, and he was determined.

  Tears leaked from my eyes and froze them shut as we left Enzo to weather the wrath of the king and the hunger of the storm alone.

  I woke in a patch of grass with the sun beating down on my face. Trying to remember if last night had been a full moon, I took my time stretching. The wolf must have run away with me. She was bad about ditching me in pastures to sleep off her overindulgence. I was feeling good about the fact no one was around to witness my walk of shame home. That was until I rolled onto my side and spotted Isaac sitting a yard away, braced against a tree as he watched over me. I studied him through my lashes, absorbing the hard set to his features and wondering at the cause. That’s when it all came rushing back.

  “Enzo.” I lurched upright and gave my previously frostbitten toes a wiggle inside my boots. “We have to go back.”

  “No, we don’t. He’s not there, Dell.” Isaac kept gazing into the distance. “You passed out before I broke through to Summer. I circled back for him. It’s what you would have done. I hid you in a hollow tree and rigged the perimeter with a tripwire mounted to a speaker at your ear. It was the best I could do.” His chin dipped. “He was gone when I got there.”

  “How can you be sure?” Heart pounding against my ribs, I gained my feet and turned a slow circle, absorbing our new surroundings. Blue skies. Fluffy clouds. A swimming hole in the distance. Overgrown grasses, dotted with wildflowers, swayed in a humid breeze. Jewel-toned butterflies burdened with miniature riders flittered from bloom to bloom. And—I peered down at a row of red-and-white-spotted fungi near my boot—line-dancing mushrooms. This must be Summer. “What is that aspect you were using?”

  “A frost giant,” he said flatly when he would have bragged about the obscure aspect he had acquired at any other time. “My senses are keener than yours in that form. I’m telling you, I retraced our steps. I located the area where he fell using a beacon I left in the snow. He wasn’t there.” He finally looked at me. “The instant my foot touched Summer soil, the blizzard died.”

  “The weather could be Winter’s first line of defense.” Considering how it had almost ended us, I added, “Or its last.”

  “The second time I didn’t rate more than flurries, so I don’t think it’s automated.”

  Leave it to a geek to think in terms of automation. “You’re saying we can sneak back without alerting them? That someone has to manually whip u
p a storm? That can’t be too hard with all the fae here. More than a few breeds are bound to have an affinity for weather.”

  The prince we had been dispatched to recover could influence thunderstorms. For that reason, he had been gifted a thunderbird, a rare beast even on Earth where it originated, as a pet. If you wanted to find Tiberius, you followed the lightning.

  “Sneaking back into Winter shouldn’t be a problem,” Isaac agreed. “The question is—do we go back for him now, or do we complete the mission then return for the witch? We must return to Firn Hall in the end either way. Thierry said it’s the only tether left.”

  “You think the king has taken him prisoner?” The snowflake had warned me. “Do you think he’ll hurt Enzo?”

  “No,” Isaac answered quickly. “He’s too valuable. Not only to us, but to Thierry.” He lifted his arm like he might reach for me but let it fall. “I can’t summon that aspect again. I’m out of juice. I don’t have any other form on tap that will allow me to survive Winter at its harshest. We almost didn’t make it out this time. We can’t mount an offensive without supplies or allies.”

  Heart sinking like a stone, I dropped to the ground beside Isaac. “You’re right. I don’t like it, but I can’t argue with you.” He offered me a bottle of water and an energy bar, and I downed them both. “We move ahead with our plans and save Enzo’s rescue for the return trip. At least then we’ll have Tiberius and Bea for backup.”

  “You think the prince and his pet are going to cooperate with us?” He sounded doubtful.