Charming Marjani

by Rebecca Rivard

  Fane emerged from the bathroom, jolting her back to the present. His blue eyes crinkled in a smile. “Morning.”

  “Morning.”

  All he wore were the skinny black jeans from last night. She couldn’t help a quick perusal of his bare chest, all lean, hard muscle with dark blond hair curling over it.

  That spark of interest heated her insides again. She pressed her mouth into a line and looked away.

  Going into his closet, he pulled on a clean T-shirt and an oatmeal-colored sweater with a black-and-white band across the chest in a traditional Icelandic pattern.

  “Hungry?” he asked. “I can get us some breakfast.”

  “Thank you.” She rose to her feet. She wanted to be standing for this. “But first, I want to see this wolf.”

  He stilled. “No. It’s too dangerous.”

  “I’m not asking your permission. Take me to him, or I’ll go myself.”

  He studied her, clearly trying to decide how best to manage her. She raised her chin, because she wasn’t going to be “managed.”

  “I should call your bluff,” he said. “You wouldn’t get within ten yards of him before you found yourself locked in a cage, too.”

  She swallowed hard—and reined in her pride. Clashing with him would get her nowhere. In Baltimore, she was a person of power, the alpha’s second. Here she was a fada, lower than dirt as far as the ice fae were concerned. But Fane had treated her well. Hell, he’d probably saved her life.

  “Please. I have to make sure it’s really him. No one has to know. You can conceal me like you did last night, can’t you?”

  “How do I know you won’t try to stick one of those knives into him?”

  “I won’t. That’s a promise.” She’d already rejected that as a bad idea. The fae would know a fada was running loose in the castle.

  His hand cupped her face. “I have a hard time saying no to you. Why is that, do you think?” His thumb caressed her cheek.

  Their gazes snagged. His eyes were very blue.

  She moistened her lips. “I don’t know,” she whispered.

  Those sky-colored eyes heated like twin blue flames. “I think you do.” He blew out a breath and released her. “I’ll probably regret this, but all right. I’ll take you to him. We’ll go now, while everyone else is at breakfast.”

  “Thank you.” She scraped a hand over her shaved head and then took a step back. “I just need a minute.” She dashed into the bathroom to pee and run a brush over her teeth.

  Fane was waiting, arms crossed over his broad chest. “I’ll have your promise before we leave this room. You’re just going to take a look—nothing else. Is that clear?”

  “Yes.” She instinctively touched her chest over her quartz. “I give you my word.”

  He looked at her feet. “Better take the boots off—I don’t want you clomping around.”

  “Don’t worry.” She paced in a soundless circle around him.

  His smile was wry. “I keep forgetting you’re a cat. Hang on, let me check the hall.” He cracked open the door. “It’s clear.” He beckoned her closer and took her hand. “You know the drill. Stay close to me and no will see you. Don’t talk, and be careful not to brush up against anyone.”

  “Got it.”

  Together, they strode into the hall.

  12

  Fane had lost his bloody mind.

  That was the only explanation. He’d worked hard to make his way in the ice fae court, even though he was only a quarter fae. Earned some respect.

  Was he going to throw it all away on some fada he’d just met?

  He looked at the somber assassin striding alongside him. Apparently the answer was yes.

  The wolf shifter was in Blaer’s tower on the castle’s east side. Fane chose to walk back the way they’d come, avoiding Sindre’s tower to the north.

  The maze had remade itself overnight, forming new paths, but since Fane was at the court with Sindre’s permission, it opened a passage for him, somehow sensing where he was headed. Fane was used to it, but Marjani glanced from side to side, clearly trying to recognize landmarks.

  “Don’t bother,” he murmured. “It’s always changing.”

  They passed a small pack of fur-clad goblins. Marjani stiffened. The goblins sniffed the air suspiciously, pig-like noses twitching, but when they couldn’t see anything, trotted on.

  They took another few turns before coming upon twin fae lords—Sindre’s nephews—blocking the passageway as they murmured to each other in Icelandic.

  When Fane was in stealth mode, no one could see him, but he’d adjusted the magic so that he was visible to Marjani and vice versa. He watched her eye the twins, gorgeous in flowing white shirts and black leather pants, their pointed ears poking through long, wavy blond hair.

  Most women would’ve been stunned speechless at the twins’ unearthly beauty, but she merely nodded at the small space between the two men and the wall, and mouthed, “You first.”

  He couldn’t help grinning. Perplexed, she tilted her head in a very feline way. He winked and slid through the gap, Marjani right behind him.

  A few turns and they were at the east tower. There they had a piece of luck—the door was open. They walked inside.

  Blaer might be equal parts ice fae and night fae, but the night fae was dominant. The large circular room they entered could’ve been decorated by a vampire. A brass chandelier brooded over the center with tiny fae lights flickering where the candles should have been, and a mist curled over the black marble floor. The walls were covered in red wallpaper flecked with black velvet, and the furniture dark and ornately carved.

  Marjani exchanged a look with him, part amusement, part horror.

  Setting his mouth to her ear, he pointed at the spiral staircase to the left. “The room with the fada is at the top of the tower.”

  Together, they walked noiselessly up the three flights. But at the top, their luck didn’t hold. The door—a thick oak with steel handles—was shut tight.

  Fane muttered a curse. He and Marjani might be invisible, but if a door opened, anyone in the tower would guess a wayfarer had just entered.

  He placed an ear to the wood. Beside him, Marjani did the same. When he heard nothing, he lifted a brow at her. Maybe her shifter senses had picked up something he hadn’t.

  She shook her head. “It’s quiet,” she whispered. “I don’t think anyone else is in there.”

  “Stay behind me,” he whispered back. “If I have to, I’ll show myself and make up some story. But you can’t let anyone see you.”

  He waited for her nod and then eased open the door.

  The top floor was one large room. The skylights had been covered with some kind of magic, so that dim, constantly moving shadows slithered across the floor.

  From his position behind the door, Fane could only see the black wolf’s cage, but he knew the room held a kitchenette, a couple of plush black couches—and five 10-by-15-foot iron cages. Bright, shiny cages.

  In its pure form, iron was a bright white metal, and Blaer’s magic kept the cages from rusting. Somehow those gleaming cages seemed even worse, like a cold, sterile laboratory where unspeakable things went on. Blaer didn’t even give the imprisoned fada the dignity of a private bathroom, just had a rudimentary toilet and sink in each cage and straw scattered on the floor.

  In the nearest cage, the big black wolf lay listlessly on a sheepskin.

  He had to be in agony, surrounded by iron like that. To a fae or fada, even cold iron burned like fire. The sheepskin provided some protection, but the surrounding iron would slowly drain the wolf’s energy. And each time he touched one of the bars, it would sear his skin, seeping into his veins until his entire body was inflamed.

  As the door opened, the wolf lifted his head a few inches, then let it drop back to the sheepskin. His coat was dull and falling off in patches, his eyes rheumy.

  Shame filled Fane. Whatever the wolf may or may not have done, this was just wrong. He didn’t even
want to tell Marjani that Blaer referred to the room as her “zoo.”

  The earth fada slid past him into the room. He kept a grip on her arm so that she remained invisible.

  An open switchblade appeared in her hand. An iron switchblade.

  “Remember your promise,” he told her. “You get a look only.”

  She nodded, her gaze on the sick wolf. A shadow slid over him, creeping across his patchy fur like a ghostly creature from another dimension. Marjani’s face was expressionless, but the arm beneath his hand vibrated with suppressed tension.

  The black wolf’s nostrils twitched. Marjani shook off Fane to move closer.

  “Corban,” she said. The single word held a world of hate.

  The black wolf forced himself up on trembling legs. Mad gold eyes narrowed at her.

  “I came here to kill you.” Her tone dripped with scorn. “But now I just pity you. Killing you would be a kindness you don’t deserve.”

  Her cousin’s lips peeled back in a snarl. Fane couldn’t tell if he was warning them off—or laughing at them. A thin stream of saliva dripped from a corner of his jaws.

  Marjani stopped a few feet away from the cage.

  “You think I don’t know why you sent that message to Adric? He”—she jerked her head at Fane—“thinks you couldn’t have done it without help, but I bet it didn’t take much to convince you. Because you’d love to have Ric here, wouldn’t you? But it didn’t work. You got me, instead.” She compressed her mouth. “Goddess, you’re an ass. The clan would never have followed you. They don’t want more of Leron. We’re making something different. Better.”

  Corban shuddered. His quartz flickered weakly.

  Marjani fingered her own quartz. The purple amethyst shimmered blue, and Fane had the feeling she was sending energy to the other fada. But why?

  “You’ve lost,” she said, low and hard. “Die with dignity.”

  A growl rasped from the wolf’s throat. Then he lowered his head in defeat.

  She released the quartz. “Damn you,” she said in a shaking voice.

  “We have to leave.” Fane crossed the room and grabbed her arm.

  Then they both froze at the sound of voices on the stairs below.

  13

  Marjani’s heart slammed into gear. If they were caught, she didn’t know what they’d do to Fane. But she’d be thrown into one of those gleaming iron cages.

  Fuck that. She’d die first.

  Her cougar surged to life, trying to take over. Claws pricked her fingertips and she knew her eyes had gone a feral blue.

  “How many?” Fane whispered, reminding her that she wasn’t alone. She had him to think about, too. And he knew the court—if she worked with him, they might both get out of here undetected.

  Not now, she hissed at her cougar.

  It snarled warningly.

  Fane jerked, and she realized she’d snarled aloud.

  “Jani?” Their eyes met, and she knew he must see the cougar. And then he did something unexpected. Instead of pulling away like any sensible person would, he wrapped an arm around her. “Shh. I won’t let them get you. Now how many?”

  She gulped. To her surprise, the cougar subsided, soothed by his scent and calm voice.

  Quickly, she sorted the voices and footsteps into separate people—a man and two women. Keeping the switchblade ready in her right hand, she held up her left, showing Fane three fingers.

  He nodded and put his finger to his lips. Taking her hand, he made the two of them disappear, and together, they crept toward the door.

  Marjani sent a last look at Corban. He panted softly, painfully, head on his paws, eyes half-shut.

  Waiting for death.

  She gritted her teeth, feeling cheated and angry and deflated, all at the same time. She’d come all this way to kill him, hated him for so long. The man wasn’t just her enemy, he was her brother’s enemy, too.

  And he’d proven he would do anything to be alpha, even tear apart their still-healing clan. Just like his father.

  She didn’t want to pity Corban. He’d made her and Adric’s teenage years a living hell. And later, when he couldn’t beat Adric in a fair fight for alpha, he’d tried every dirty trick in the book to undermine him. Marjani and Jace had simply been collateral damage.

  Corban needed to die. But not like this, weak and maddened from iron poisoning and as mangy as a third-world dog.

  The three fae were on the landing below. “The goblins reported activity in the tower.” A man’s voice.

  Fane eased the door shut and pulled her into a corner opposite the door, keeping her tight against his body. He’d put himself between her and the fae, but she peered around him as the man reached the top of the stairs.

  Her jaw loosened. It was the tall, leather-clad fae with cropped silver hair that she’d followed through the portal. So she’d been right to be uneasy; he must’ve known she was there. But why hadn’t he captured her immediately?

  Behind him came two women. One rail-thin with ebony skin and silver hair who Marjani would bet was his sister; the other curvy with a night fae’s black eyes and an ice fae’s blond hair. Both wore short dresses that appeared to have been spun from glitter and cobwebs.

  Marjani caught a whiff of the curvy blonde’s scent and recoiled. Night fae smelled of graveyards and dank basements, and this woman’s odor was strong. She had to be the fae lady in Fane’s story.

  The silver-haired man shoved the door open and strode inside, followed by the woman who looked like his sister.

  “Someone was here,” he snapped at Corban. “Who?”

  The wolf responded with a feeble growl.

  With a curse, the man reappeared in the doorway. “He can’t tell me anything as a wolf,” he told the curvy blonde. “Can you force him to shift?”

  She gave him a level look. “Of course.”

  He nodded and turned back to Corban.

  Marjani gulped soundlessly. Fear sheeted up her spine. Only a fae who knew the secret of their quartz could force an earth fada to shift.

  How many fae had Corban told, anyway?

  The curvy blonde glanced around, black eyes narrowed. A dark, questing energy whispered over Marjani’s skin.

  She stilled, afraid to even breathe. Beside her, Fane did the same.

  Calm. Cool. Emotionless as a chunk of cheese. A slice of bread.

  Night fae fed on negative emotion; the blonde must have sensed Marjani’s spike of fear. The only way to hide from a night fae was to remain still—and very, very calm. Another hint of fear, and the woman would be on them.

  Marjani’s fingers tightened on the switchblade.

  A frown creased the blonde’s unnaturally perfect face. The seconds ticked by.

  One. Two. Three.

  More tendrils snaked over Marjani’s skin, cold and oily. A scream gathered in her lungs, ready to punch out of her chest.

  Four. Five. Six.

  “Blaer?” Just when Marjani thought she’d break, the silver-haired man appeared in the doorway. “Is something wrong, love?”

  The fae lady shrugged. “I thought I sensed something.” She crossed to him, her diamond-studded high heels clicking on the marble floor.

  The door closed. Marjani went limp.

  She scrubbed her hands over her skin, trying to brush away the slimy feel of the tendrils. And then she went stiff. Blaer? She recognized that name. Last year, Sindre had hired Adric to find a Lady Blaer in northern India and bring her home. By then, they’d suspected Corban was behind Marjani’s kidnapping, but without proof, Adric couldn’t accuse him. Corban had too many allies in the clan. So her brother had sent Corban to India to get him as far away from her—and the clan—as possible.

  Beside her, Fane drew a slow inhale through his teeth, and then reached for her hand and glided toward the stairs. She kept her switchblade out as they noiselessly descended the three flights.

  As soon as they entered the maze, Fane sped up. She closed the switchblade, shoved it into her pock
et and loped alongside him. She couldn’t help being impressed. The man moved as swiftly and silently as a shifter.

  He didn’t slow down until they were a hundred yards from the dark tower and its shiny cages. He continued at a fast walk, long legs eating up the distance as he slipped between the few fae they encountered. She had to trot to keep up.

  The maze twisted and turned in unexpected ways, but he always seemed to know which way to go. She tuned into her quartz, trying to use the tiny crystals to orient herself, but it was like being on a spinning merry-go-round with the directions continually changing. If Fane hadn’t been with her, she’d have been lost within a minute.

  He didn’t speak until they were safely back inside his room. “That’s the fada who sent you the message?”

  “Yeah.” She rubbed her upper arms. “It’s funny. I thought when I caught up to Corban and finally had my revenge, I’d feel happy—triumphant. The bastard was behind the attack on me, and he’s made no secret of the fact that he wants my brother dead.”

  Fane touched her cheek. “I’m sorry.”

  She fought the urge to lean into his hand. She was so damned tired. It seemed like forever since she’d had a good night’s sleep.

  “I thought I’d feel happy. But I just feel hollow.” She sank onto the wood chair and stared at her boots. “Guess I could’ve stayed home in Baltimore. He’s going to be dead in a few days anyway.”

  Fane slouched on the easy chair, face a little pale. “Sometimes I’m glad I’m not a pureblood.”

  “That blonde with the scent of a night fae—she’s the fae lady in your story?”

  “She is. Now you see why I wanted you to leave.”

  “I felt her energy reaching for us.” Marjani rubbed her upper arms, recalling the feel of those snake-like tendrils. “Like during the Darktime.”

  “The Darktime?”

  “My clan—we went through a bad time when I was growing up. A civil war. You must’ve heard about it.”

  “Yeah.” Fane’s eyes were sympathetic. “It’s just one more story the purebloods tell about the fada so they can justify treating you as animals.”