Knight of Pentacles (Knights of the Tarot Book 3)

by Nina Mason

  “I asked you a question.”

  “I know nothing.”

  Axel bit out the words through clenched teeth. The pain was horrific, and he could feel warm blood running down the backs of his thighs.

  “When are they planning to strike? Where are they hiding the drone of the prophecy?”

  “I know nothing.”

  Blistering pain ripped across Axel’s haunches as the duke landed another blow.

  “I wonder if you would still be so uncooperative if it were your sweetheart I was whipping instead of you.”

  “I have no sweetheart.”

  “That’s not what she says.”

  No. It was only a bluff. If Jenna was in Avalon, all hope would be lost. Plus, if she were on this side of the vale, he would be able to sense her, and he felt nothing apart from the throbbing misery in his backside.

  “Whoever you have isn’t my girlfriend—because I have no girlfriend.”

  The duke laughed and turned to go. “I’ll be sure to tell her you said that when I give her to my guards as a plaything.”

  Chapter 20

  Jenna moved closer to the candle—for the small amount of heat it gave off as well as the light. She was shivering so hard she could barely hold onto her mother’s grimoire, but didn’t dare light the fire. The owls still flew over every few hours in their never-ending search for her. Luckily, she’d managed to avoid detection so far.

  If she stayed hidden a few more hours, she’d be golden—provided she could muster sufficient courage to carry out her plan. Tomorrow was Halloween, and she still wasn’t sure she’d have the nerve. She’d picked up the grimoire in the hope it contained a charm of some sort to bolster her courage.

  Axel had been accurate in his assessment of the contents. It mostly contained recipes for herbal remedies and spells for protection. She thought back on the night she’d placed the sian over him, wondering if it had aided him on his quest. If the charm hadn’t helped, it wasn’t because she didn’t love him enough. She did. With every cell in her body.

  She turned the pages, reading what was written on each, but found nothing appropriate. When she reached two that were stuck together, she very carefully peeled them apart. On the left-hand side was a drawing of a woman driving a chariot pulled by two cats. On the right, was a short prayer to the Norse goddess Freya.

  As Jenna read the words, tears pricked her eyes. The supplication wasn’t quite what she’d been looking for, but it was exactly what she needed.

  Freya, help me to see my own worth and, in return, I shall praise thy name and honor thy image. Hail Freya, goddess of love, beauty, and self-confidence.

  * * * *

  Axel, hanging in shackles, had no idea how much time had passed when the key next turned in the lock of his cell. When the door swung open, the uniformed duke swept into the room with a single guard on his heels. If Axel had been able to summon any saliva, he would have spit on them both.

  “Take him down,” Cumberland barked at his pale-faced lackey.

  The guard hurried forward with the ring of keys and unlocked the manacles. When Axel dropped into a crumpled heap, the red-coated vampire grabbed his festering ankles and dragged him toward his commander.

  Cumberland waited to speak until his prisoner was prostrate before him. “I am pleased to see how well your wounds have healed, given that Samhain is tomorrow. But you’re looking rather gaunt, which simply will not do, as I promised the queen you’d be as healthy as a horse for the festivities. So, I’ve brought you something to fatten you up.”

  Axel’s stomach did a somersault at the mention of food. He was so famished, he no longer felt hunger. Only bloated emptiness.

  “Bring the meal,” the duke called to someone outside the cell.

  Axel looked toward the open door as the other guard entered with a woman slung over his shoulder. She was naked and her wrists and ankles were bound with rope. His adrenaline spiked at the sight of her, causing his heart to race and his hands to shake. Was it Jenna? When he saw the lady’s dark brown hair, he let out the breath he had been holding unaware.

  The guard laid her on the floor beside Axel, who was so beaten down by starvation and abuse he could barely move, let alone form a cohesive thought. Her appetizing scent called to his animal lusts. His fangs broke free, his mouth moistened, and his cock filled with blood. Licking his lips, he let his ravenous gaze roam over her body. She was young and bonny with tawny skin, firm breasts, and waist-length hair that curled around her torso like a nest.

  He was the Samhain lamb being fattened up before the slaughter. Her blood would fill his belly, quench his thirst, and restore him to health, but at the price of his fidelity to Jenna. As a faery breeding drone, his libido became voracious when he tasted human blood.

  “Take her away.” He turned his head. “I do not want her.”

  With a laugh, the duke kicked him onto his back and regarded his condition with a sanctimonious smile. “You clearly do, so why deny yourself?”

  “I am too hungry to control myself. I might kill her.”

  “Go ahead. It’s not as though I’d let her live anyway.”

  “No,” Axel said, more emphatically. “I will not.”

  “I’m afraid I’m going to have to insist, as the queen wants you in good health in time for tomorrow’s ride.” Cumberland turned to the guard who’d brought her in. “Cut her.”

  The guard pulled a knife from his belt and drew the edge of the blade across the fleshy part of the woman’s forearm. Blood sprang instantly to the surface, making Axel’s whole body convulse with desire.

  The lady was barely conscious. Drugged, no doubt—as he would be if he drank from her. Cumberland bent over her, picked up her sliced arm, and pressed the bleeding wound to Axel’s lips. Instinctively, his tongue darted after the nourishment.

  “Don’t be shy,” the duke taunted. “Take your fill.”

  As Axel apprehensively lapped at the blood, his fangs ached to pierce her flesh. Lower, his cock was so engorged it felt ready to burst. Summoning every ounce of willpower he could, he turned away. “No. I cannot. It would not be right.”

  “Hold him,” the duke ordered the guards.

  Big, cold hands clamped the sides of Axel’s face and forced his mouth back to the wound. As the lass’s blood trickled over his lips, he tried to raise his will like a shield against the temptation to partake. He was so consumed by hunger, he could not think straight. He called a picture of Jenna into his mind. She was so good she would probably excuse his infidelity under the circumstances, but he doubted his ability to forgive himself.

  When someone kicked him hard in the thigh, his lips parted involuntarily. Savory blood flowed over his tongue. Closing his eyes, he sank his fangs into her flesh and began to suck. Euphoria flooded his system. For the first time in days, he no longer felt pain—or hunger. When the urge to mount the girl threatened to overpower his resistance, he held the image of Jenna in his mind as he offered a silent prayer to Thor, asking for the strength to remain faithful.

  * * * *

  Holding tight to his horse’s reins, Axel gazed at the stars above the spired towers of Castle Le Fay. On Samhain, when the vale was at its thinnest, the night sky of the mortal realm bled through. Tonight, all the inhabitants of the Thitherworld would cross over in a grand procession that would end with the sacrifice of those being tithed.

  Himself included.

  His skin crawled at the thought. While there was no shame in being sacrificed, there was no glory in it, either—or any hope of happiness. They would cut open his chest while he yet breathed and pluck out his heart. He would die and go to Helheim, where his immortal soul would remain for the rest of eternity.

  Unless, of course, Jenna came for him. Not that, even if she should, there were any guarantees she would succeed.

  He ran his hand down the neck of his designated mount—a pure white faery stallion with a bell-bedecked golden saddle and bridle that rang each time the horse threw his head or stampe
d his silver hooves.

  A trumpet sounded—the signal to mount. All the Unseelie factions were assembled. Goblins, dwarves, faeries, elves, and vampires, among them. Elsewhere, there would be a separate-but-similar cavalcade of the Seelie factions who tithed to Lord Oberon, Lord Morfryn’s twin brother.

  Samhain was a night of solidarity. A temporary truce would be in force until after the ride—the reason Avalon’s mercenary forces were forbidden to take part.

  Axel, happy to be free of the duke and his minions, swung himself into the saddle as Queen Morgan rode up on a fine-boned white mare. The stallion he was on tossed his head and pawed the ground as she approached. Feeling similarly riled by her presence, Axel gazed at Morgan with hatred in his heart. She was truly evil, and he sincerely hoped the rebels succeeded in dethroning her.

  “You will ride with me, my knight,” she said. “To ensure you play no more tricks on your queen. Commander Cumberland’s scouts have failed in their hunt for your witch, but I will be ready for her, if she is foolish enough to interfere.”

  Axel, heartsick, stared at the bumblebee pendant around her neck. How he would like to strangle her with it—or, better yet, with his bare hands. If she touched one hair on Jenna’s head, he would go berserk if he could, and tear her limb from limb.

  His horse snorted and pawed the ground. He tightened his grip on the reins. Earthly night now cloaked the Thitherworld sky. The trumpet blew again—a bleating note as chilling as a death knell.

  Gritting his teeth, Axel glanced behind him. The female faeries, as always, surrounded the drones. Now, he knew why. Would Jenna come? Would she be strong enough to stand up to Morgan and break his bonds? Or would this night be his last in this world?

  He tamped down his rising despair, reminding himself that in death he might finally know freedom.

  * * * *

  A charge like an electrical current surged through Jenna as she peeked out from her hiding place behind the ash tree she and Axel had slept under on the night they became handfasted. From here, she had a good view of the well, the footpath, and the waterfall. They were coming. She couldn’t see them yet, but she could hear a building crescendo of jingling bells and clopping hoof beats.

  Hundreds upon hundreds of them.

  Jenna watched for the procession to appear, her fingers twisting the ring Axel had made for her. Her heart pulsed in her throat and pounded in her ears. Though she was scared to death, her hair and skin crackled with the energy of her newfound power.

  It was cold in the glen, but she was nevertheless sweating under her green cloak, sweater, and jeans. In her pocket was a vial containing the holy water she’d taken from St. Peter and St. Boniface’s. She’d also brought along her bow and arrows, in case Morgan didn’t surrender her knight as easily as the faery queen in the stories.

  When the first rider came around the bend, Jenna’s heart dropped into the pit of her stomach. He was a hideous creature with slimy grayish skin and a hooked nose. A goblin, she guessed, mounted on what looked to her like a huge wolf. Behind him, came a horde of similar creatures, also mounted on huge and ferocious-looking wolves.

  She straightened her back, still turning her ring. Her courage could not fail her now. Not when she was this close and the stakes were so high. He was her handfasted husband and the father of her child. She could not stand by and let him be sacrificed to appease some awful faery overlord.

  The next group to appear looked like elves. All in the party were tall and willowy with pointed ears and long, stick-straight white hair. Both sexes wore metallic tunics under velvet capes and carried gleaming silver swords with bejeweled hilts.

  Would the faeries be third, as stated in the story of Tamlane? She waited, pulse pounding and breath bated, for the next assembly to come into view. Their bells reached her ears before she saw anyone. Then, two riders came around the bend. A man and woman on matching white horses. The woman, a stunning beauty with long black hair, was on the near side. Jenna’s breath caught when she saw the man was Axel.

  He rode on the other side of the queen, probably by design. If Morgan suspected she might try to claim him, it would only make her mission harder.

  Harder, but not impossible. She simply needed to create a distraction. With energy humming in her trembling fingers, Jenna grabbed an arrow from her quiver, which rested against the tree, and drew back her bowstring.

  When Morgan came within range, Jenna took aim and released the arrow.

  She missed the queen, but hit her horse’s haunches. The mare shrieked and reared up, dropping her rider in a heap on the ground before taking off like a shot into the woods.

  It was now or never.

  Jenna broke from her hiding place and tore toward Axel as fast as her legs would carry her. Sidestepping the queen, she ran up to his horse, grabbed hold of his tunic with both hands, and dragged him down from the saddle. Then, she dropped on him and held on for all she was worth.

  Pandemonium erupted all around. Jenna, abuzz with power and adrenaline, did not let go. She heard the queen coming and saw her slippers as she stepped beside them. As Morgan made to grab her, Jenna thrust out her arm to block the attempt.

  To her delight and astonishment, arcs of electricity shot from her fingertips. The white bolts struck the queen in the chest, sending her staggering backward.

  “What manner of magic is this?” the queen asked when she’d regained her equilibrium.

  As Jenna spread her fingers in a threatening manner, the air crackled around her hand. “Come any closer and you’ll find out.”

  Morgan looked genuinely frightened, which pleased Jenna immensely. She couldn’t begin to guess how she’d come by this strange new power. She only knew she was thrilled it had manifested when she needed it most.

  As added insurance, Jenna pulled out the holy water and splashed it around her and Axel, doing her best to create a circle.

  The other faeries gathered around them, chanting in shrill voices, “She has tricked us. She has claimed the queen’s favorite. She has stolen the tithe.”

  All the while, Axel lay beneath her, as silent as the grave. Concerned, Jenna looked down at him. His white tunic and the gold torque around his neck gleamed in the moonlight. His face, however, was hidden by his hair.

  “Axel,” she whispered, “are you all right?”

  His eyes caught the light. His beautiful Viking eyes. They were more fearsome than ever before, but still belonged to the man she loved. Somewhere nearby, the queen said something that sounded like fee-faw.

  Looking, Jenna saw that Morgan held a wand which was pointed at Axel. Swallowing hard, she steeled her courage. This was it. Whatever he turned into, she had to hold on as if their lives depended on her not letting go.

  Because they did.

  The ozone-scented air buzzed with the energy of magic. Axel got wider and sprouted grizzled fur. A muzzle and sharp teeth pushed out of his face. He snarled and snapped and writhed beneath Jenna, but did not try to bite. She held on despite her fear. From the eyes of the wolf, the man she loved looked back at her.

  “Fee-faw,” the queen said again.

  All around them, the air hissed like electronic white noise. Axel grew thinner. His warm, plush fur turned into smooth, cool scales. His muzzle retracted and his black nose became two slits. His tongue flicked out, revealing the fork at the tip. She’d always been deathly afraid of snakes, but she still held on.

  “Let him go.” Morgan’s face was purple with rage. “He is mine. My knight and my tithe.”

  “He isn’t yours, he’s mine,” Jenna returned with passion. “My true love. But you wouldn’t know anything about love, would you, Morgan? Because you’re a heartless creature who only sees other people as toys for her amusement—not as separate beings with feelings of their own.”

  The queen’s eyes grew black, like an insect’s or an alien’s. “And I’m the stronger for it.”

  “You’re the poorer for it,” Jenna answered, voice quavering. “Because you’ll never kn
ow how it feels to love and be loved.”

  “You’re wrong.” Morgan laughed. “All of my subjects love me.”

  “What they feel for you isn’t love; it’s fear—the opposite of love.”

  “You insolent little witch.” The queen’s black eyes radiated hatred. “I’ll show you which of us has the greater power.”

  Jenna closed her eyes and held tight to her snake. The air grew hot and thick around them. She could hear the crackling, see the amber flicker of flames, and smell the suffocating smoke. Morgan had set the glen on fire. Or had she merely created the illusion of a fire? It was a gamble, but Jenna wasn’t budging. Even if the fire turned out to be real, she’d rather burn to death than allow Axel to be sacrificed.

  “Fee-faw,” the queen cried once more. Her eyes grew fiercer as she said, to the serpent in Jenna’s arms, “Had I known how you would betray me, my knight, I would have made a meal of your organs.”

  Jenna cringed at the viciousness of the threat while, underneath her, Axel began to morph. This time, he became a lion with huge paws and sharp teeth. Rather than recoil, she stroked his pelt and buried her face in his mane. He still smelled like apple blossoms.

  “Don’t worry, baby,” she whispered. “I won’t let go.”

  The lion licked her face with his big, rough tongue. She snuggled against him, her heart pounding with courage. She could do this. When he turned into iron or hot coals or a flaming glaive, she would throw him down the well and it would all be over. He’d be free and the faeries would go back into the Thitherworld.

  They would still have to get away from the owls, of course, but her Mini was standing by in the glen’s carpark with a full tank of petrol. She’d take him to the crofter’s cottage while they figured out where to go next. Maybe the good faeries would give them refuge. Or those white-haired elves.

  “Fee-faw!”

  Sparks shot from the queen’s wand. The lion in Jenna’s arms began to grow at an alarming rate. His fur vanished and his skin grew hard and thick. He got so big, her feet left the ground. She clung to his neck for dear life.