Innocent Darkness

by Suzanne Lazear

  “I only want to be V when I’m with you. Though I have to say,” his eyes met hers as a smile played on his soft, kissable lips. “I’d like to be a little more than your best friend.” Taking her hand, he kissed her palm, a slow, lingering kiss that left her gasping for breath even though his lips were nowhere near hers.

  “What?” The word caught in her throat.

  “Did you dream of me, Noli?” His lips brushed her ear, warm breath grazed her neck setting her skin ablaze. “I dreamt of you.”

  “I did. They were … ” Her toes curled at the memory of her dreams, those kisses. “Pleasant.”

  “Pleasant? I seem to remember them being far more than merely pleasant.” His green eyes danced in amusement as his hands caressed her body. Up and down, up and down. Rhythm hypnotic, they didn’t touch any special parts of her, but warmed her all the same.

  “You … you dreamt of me?” It seemed wrong, wicked even, that two men caused her body to react so.

  “I did. I think we actually dreamed the same dream. We’d be at your tree house and you wore only your nightdress, and we’d … ” His lips met hers, demonstrating the kisses they’d shared in her dreams. First his lips toyed with hers, as if greeting them, then it deepened, his tongue dancing with hers.

  Noli’s eyes widened and she broke off the kiss, mind reeling. “We shared the dreams?”

  V’s cheeks pinked. “Um, yes. I’m afraid I’m to blame. I tried to dream search for you, but you kept ignoring my questions and taking control. You liked kissing better than talking.”

  The last dream came back to her and she stood, fists clenching. “You fiend. I cannot believe you.”

  “I’m sorry.” V’s brow furrowed. “I didn’t mean to betray your trust. I needed to find you but you kept getting me … distracted. I still have no idea why you got so angry.” He stood. “I like kissing you, as well.”

  He did? Her heart did a little dance of joy.

  “So there’s no other girl?” Her belly flipped a little at the thought.

  “Is that what you thought?” He blinked in surprise. “Um, no, there’s no other girl.” V closed the space between them. “There’s no girl but you, Noli. Promise.”

  All the sudden it became hard to breath and it felt as if the ground had evaporated leaving her floating in mid air. Only her. V liked her. Her. Hoyden, car fixing, troublemaking her.

  “You are forgiven.” The dreams were real? That, too, terrified and excited her as several different emotions swirled inside her like a tempest in a teapot.

  He came up behind her and pressed his chest to her back, arms draping around her like a necklace.

  “Why do they want me? What can I help them with? Would you tell me?” she asked.

  “It might be easier to show you.” He took her hand and they went in a different direction. They walked and walked until he stopped short, pulling her towards him. “Careful.”

  She looked down. They stood at a precipice. Instead of there being a river below them, or a crevice, there was … nothing. It reminded her a little of what lay outside the gates to the garden she originally came into. “What is that?”

  “Wild magic. It’s what makes everything here—and what keeps us alive.” He gestured to the trees behind them.

  “Wait.” Noli’s mind spun round and round like a runaway carousel. “Everything here is made of magic?”

  “Just about. This is magic in its natural, wild state.”

  “What?”

  V laughed. “I’ll spare you from all that. Basically, the magic is sentient.”

  “It’s alive? How can magic be alive?” She cocked her head, trying to understand the science behind it.

  “It just is.” Taking her hand he led her away from the chasm of nothingness. “Like you and me, the land has to eat.”

  Noli laughed. “What does wild magic like for breakfast?”

  V’s arm snaked around her waist as he led her back the way they came. “Blood.”

  “What?” Noli gasped.

  “Every seven years a girl is chosen by the high queen’s huntsman. She’s always a special, mortal girl on the brink between child and woman, bursting with what we call the Spark. Usually, she’s plucked from some terrible situation and brought here to the Otherworld, to the high palace, where she’s plied with gifts and amusements. She’s treated like a princess. Everyone comes to see her; everyone wants to be her friend … ” His voice trailed off as they left the giant trees and made their way through a hedge maze. “In exchange for her life they give her the time of her life?” It seemed fair, in a twisted way, but something she personally wished not to experience.

  “Yes. The problem I have is that Kevighn tricks these girls, deceiving them until the magic binds them. Once that happens, little can be done to reverse it.” The maze ended in a little grove with a grand tree in the center.

  “Wait.” Noli stopped dead in her tracks, dread chilling her very soul. “Has the magic bound me? Is that what you mean by figuring it all out?” Her words barely eked out as her throat swelled shut with fear.

  “Shhh.” He bundled her into his arms. “The magic hasn’t bound you, yet, though I’m not sure why—not that I want it to. But the time grows near and there’s still no girl. That makes things difficult for all of us. I don’t want you to be the sacrifice, but someone has to be, soon.”

  Relief washed over her, but V sounded so concerned, looked so grave. He let go of her and approached the faery tree, though no little faeries darted about.

  “I don’t understand,” she whispered, overwhelmed by all he’d told her.

  “Let me show you.” Crouching, his fingers caressed the bark of the giant old tree. It was like the tree at Findlay, only much bigger and even more gnarled and twisted than her tree in Los Angeles. A few flowers grew around the base, but not quite like the garden at Findlay. Yet at the same time it seemed just as enchanting—perhaps even more.

  “This is my faery tree, and my father’s before that,” he told her softly. “Without nourishment the land weakens. Eventually, like you and me, if starved, the land will die. Magic makes this world. If the magic dies, it all goes away. It will return to chaos, then fade into nothing.” He reached into a knothole. When his hand withdrew, it held something. A sad expression crossed his face. Noli crouched next to him. “Hold out your hands.”

  She extended her hands and he placed something into it, still and cool.

  “Right now the magic is weak, the land hungers and some of the weaker parts are fading away. We, too, will fade when the land does, even those of us who live in your world. Our magic is becoming erratic. Some creatures are sickening and dying.” His eyes fell to what lay in her hands and a somber feeling cloaked them.

  In her cupped hands lay a tiny, pale wood faery. But she didn’t dance around like a drunken firefly. She didn’t even glow, her wings lifeless. The faery simply sat there unmoving in her green dress that resembled leaves, her bare feet peeking out. Her brown eyes pleaded with Noli to help, but she seemed too ill to do anything more.

  Everything fell into place. Bile rose in her throat. “If I don’t die, everyone else will?”

  He put an arm around her and one of his fingers stroked the golden brown hair of the faery in her hands. “If someone meeting the parameters doesn’t become the sacrifice soon, the entire Otherworld, and all the creatures calling it home will cease to exist. Not only will we all die, but the mortal realm relies on the magic that leaks from our realm into yours. That’s what gives you mortals your creativity. If our magic ceases to exist … ”

  “Flying figs.” The epithet wasn’t strong enough for all at stake. “That’s what you mean by figuring it all out together?”

  “You meet all the qualifications, but the magic hasn’t bound you—”

  “If we find someone else, quickly, we can fix this?” But it would be too late for this little wood faery. Noli watched the life fade from the little creature in her hands.

  “Yes, but,” V sighed
heavily. “Kevighn had a lot of trouble finding someone this cycle. Usually the magic doesn’t fade, creatures don’t die, it’s a seamless transition.”

  “Oh. Who would willingly die to save an entire world?” Her mouth clamped shut. How selfish she sounded.

  He shook his head. “Don’t even think about it. I don’t want you to be the sacrifice any more than I want us all to perish.”

  She nearly dropped the faery in her hands. “You would die, too.”

  “I would, along with Elise, James, my father. I… I don’t think we need to trick the girls. But, no one else agrees with me.” Defeat crossed his face as his shoulders rounded.

  “What do we do?” she whispered, hopelessness pressing down on her chest like bricks. “I don’t want you to die either. I don’t want anyone to die. I … I just want to go home.”

  V stroked her cheek with this thumb. “We’ll find a way to get you home; we’ll find a way to fix the magic. We have to.”

  But it was too late. The tiny faery in her hands was dead.

  Twenty Six

  Plans

  Kevighn watched the queen pace back and forth in her sitting room, that silly mechanical dog lounging in front of a purple fire. The arrival of that whelp of a prince dealt a blow to his ego—especially when Noli lit up when he appeared, sword brandished, like a knight in shining armor from one of those idiotic mortal stories.

  Stiofán lied to Noli as well, hiding his true nature. Did she smack the prince? Hardly. She ran to him. Why did they always fall for princes? He didn’t understand why the queen allowed Noli to leave with Stiofán, either. Kevighn gathered he was some exiled earth prince …

  Oh. Interesting. “If I might be so bold as to inquire, what is your plan, your majesty?”

  “My plan?” She arched an eyebrow, voice rising in pitch. “Not only are you the huntsman, but we’re in this predicament because of you. How are you going to fix this?”

  Well, his plan involved going back to San Francisco and drowning his sorrows in opium. No matter what happened, Noli was lost to him. Like Creideamh.

  Like Creideamh, in the end, Noli would die.

  “Well … ” She tapped her slippered foot impatiently. “Have you nothing to say for yourself?”

  “Me? You’re the one who let them go.” No sooner had Kevighn spoke when he felt the energy bolt graze his arm, singeing the cloth and burning the flesh, but not actually cutting off his arm. A warning shot. The queen had peculiar abilities—but all the women who’d held the high queen’s throne did.

  “I don’t have to explain myself to you, huntsman.” Her face hovered inches from his. “It’s not as if I let them go to the world above. For all we know, he might hold the power to binding her.”

  Pain seared through him, but all he could do in her presence was put one hand over the wound to stifle the bleeding. “With all due respect, you majesty, none of us saw the Annabelle escapade coming.”

  “You didn’t answer my question,” she snapped. She threw another bolt, this one grazing his leg, causing him to nearly tip over in shock and pain. “What is your plan?”

  “I know you don’t think we have time to find a new girl, but the place where I found Magnolia seems to be a holding pen for girls with the Spark.” The pain was so great it was hard to speak. “I’ll return there, your majesty.” And conveniently located next to the Red Pearl.

  She smiled at his discomfort.

  “You do that.” Her cool tone told Kevighn that if he didn’t, his torture and death would be the entertainment at the next feast—if they weren’t all dead.

  “We can, I mean, I can fix this.” He forced himself to sound as confident and sure as he could while bleeding all over her carpet.

  “Yes, you will.”

  “Of course, your majesty.”

  “I do have a plan of my own,” she added slyly, enjoying his suffering.

  His stomach sank; if she succeeded and he didn’t, there would be a price to pay. He wanted to leave before he grew weak from blood loss, but clearly, the queen wasn’t finished with him yet. “Excellent, your majesty. May I ask what?”

  She smiled in a way that would frighten the most seasoned warrior. “Magnolia still remains our best prospect. I’ll go to Stiofán.”

  That was not the plan he expected. “Stiofán? Why do you think he’ll succeed? He’s not even a man.”

  The gleam in her eyes became vicious. “I have something he wants more than anything.”

  “Very good, your majesty.” He shifted his weight to keep the pain from overwhelming him. The poor prince would pay dearly for it, too, and be scarcely worth what he’d get in return. One must be exceedingly careful when making deals with faeries—especially those like Tiana who’d betray her own family.

  She looked him up and down and waved her hand towards the door. “You are bleeding on my carpet. Be off with you.”

  “Yes, your majesty.” Kevighn bowed the best he could. Halfway to the door, he turned. “Your majesty, what does Stiofán have that I don’t?”

  The queen laughed, a high pitched menacing laugh that sent chills ricocheting off his spine. “My dear Kevighn,” her words held no sincerity. “You might be handsome and quick-tongued; you might even be an expert lover. But you’re just my huntsman. Stiofán, as young and inexperienced as he may be, is a prince.”

  Why did women always think that? Being a prince didn’t make you a better man.

  “Of course, your majesty.” He may have bedded many women, but he never claimed to be able to understand them—especially while sober.

  Steven stood in the doorway to the room he’d given Noli. Having been Elise’s room the decorations befit a young girl with its pale colors, ruffles, and ribbons. They’d made camp in the nursery, the area of the estate he and his siblings had lived in before they’d been exiled. Though dusty, the spells kept vermin and other riffraff out of their ancestral estate. Even though it lay quiet and empty, it still felt like home.

  He watched Noli sleep, her chest gently rising and falling with her breath. Every day she grew lovelier—to him at least. She’d become distraught when the wood faery died in her hands. She possessed a connection to them, which he hadn’t known, but it didn’t surprise him either. They liked those with the Spark and those who held a connection to the earth.

  Her anguish led to him comforting her—and to a disconcerting realization as he’d sensed the magic shift around them. Kevighn might not have been able to get the magic to bind Noli—but he might. It may have to do with Noli becoming his when he’d given her his sigil. That could be why the queen and Kevighn tried to get her to take the medallion off.

  That also meant he might be the only one who could get the magic to bind Noli. Kevighn usually bound girls through seduction. By sleeping with him they made an unconscious decision that they belonged to him, or at least belonged in the Otherworld. Steven was relieved she hadn’t fallen for Kevighn’s charms. He’d been even more relieved—and delighted—to discover she liked kissing him in person as much as she did in her dreams.

  They’d have to be careful. It would be so easy for the magic to bind her. With each kiss, each stroke, he’d sensed the magic build. As much as he wanted certain things from her, at this moment it proved out of the question. He couldn’t allow the magic to bind her, even if it meant pushing her away until they figured everything out.

  Getting her home would be an entirely different matter …

  First thing first. Perhaps James would have an idea. Where was he? Surely, it hadn’t taken him that long to visit Noli’s brother and to find the mortal girl. They knew Noli wouldn’t be with either, but needed to cover their backsides. Rather, Steven needed to cover his backside. He’d still be in trouble when he returned to his father.

  Shutting the door to her room, he walked into the small library that always had been his favorite. He scanned the shelves, but nothing that could help him would be here. Perhaps there’d be something in his father’s library.

  “Ho
w like your father you are, so ponderous with your books and studies.”

  He didn’t need to turn around to identify the speaker, but he did, inclining his head as was proper from a prince to a queen and not one iota more.

  “Your majesty, I wasn’t expecting you so soon.” He tried to keep any and all emotion out of his voice.

  “Why, Stiofán, you’d think I wasn’t allowed to visit my own son.” The look she shot him was hardly motherly. She hadn’t always been that way—not with them at least.

  “You stopped being our mother the day you chose being high queen over us,” he retorted.

  “Really, Stiofán, you, of all of them, should understand.” She didn’t hug him or even approach; she simply stood there, cool and collected in a ridiculous lavender dress which looked as if ruffles had been wrapped around her like one wound thread on a spool. Little mechanical butterfly clips flapped in her upswept hair and more decorated the dress.

  “Ah, but I do, your majesty,” he replied. “Séamus understands. Ailís doesn’t. She still remembers a mother who loved her—and we try to keep it that way.”

  Her eyes narrowed at him. “You are your father’s son, aren’t you?”

  “Why are you here, your majesty? I know this isn’t a social call.” He suspected what she wanted lay sleeping in Elise’s room. Certainly, she only let him and Noli leave the high palace because she figured she could easily get Noli back through him.

  “Why did you choose him over me?” No hurt flashed in her eyes, no condemnation rang in her voice as she looked around the library.

  Even though their father wasn’t fun anymore, and tried to be gone as much as possible, he’d never abandoned them. Deep down their father still loved them and always sought to do the right things for them. Their mother stopped loving them the day she decided being queen of the earth court wasn’t enough.

  “James and I support our father’s choice. Why would he wish to go from being king to a mere consort?” There was no such thing as high king. “He made you his queen. He loved you. You promised.”