Charming Marjani

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Charming Marjani Page 14

by Rebecca Rivard


  Adric tried not to blink. Had the prince almost apologized for not reining in his psycho son? But Langdon was a night fae and an arrogant SOB to boot. The moment passed.

  Cool black eyes scrutinized Adric. “I want access to the girl. Merry. The sun fae queen has set powerful wards around Rock Run. Nobody can break through them. But you”—his gaze shot to Jace—”you meet with her at least once a week.”

  The lieutenant’s hazel eyes sparked a cat-green. Before he could speak, Adric jumped in.

  “I’m sorry, but that’s not possible.”

  “Why not?”

  “She…passed. Earlier this summer.”

  “The girl? My granddaughter?”

  “Yes.” Adric swallowed against the wave of nausea at the big, fat lie he’d just told. “I’m sorry. You should’ve been informed.”

  Beside him, Jace went stiff.

  Langdon’s fingers tightened on his wineglass. “You’re lying.”

  Adric shook his head. “It was in a flash flood. The caverns where she lives with the river fada flooded. They couldn’t get her out in time.”

  From the corner of his eye, Adric saw Jace bow his head sorrowfully. Backing him up without actually lying.

  The prince’s winged brows snapped together. “Why wasn’t I informed?”

  Adric spread his hands. “You’ll have to ask them. Rock Run doesn’t share any more information with me than necessary.”

  “I’ll want to see the body.”

  “I’m sorry, but that’s not possible. We fada don’t bury our dead. We cremate them.”

  Langdon’s eyes narrowed on Adric for an endless minute during which he prayed the night fae wouldn’t see the cold sweat prickling his upper lip.

  At last he murmured, “I see.”

  He rose to his feet in an abrupt movement and strode out of the bar, his guards at his heels. The few people who happened to be in their path literally jumped aside.

  “He gone?” Adric asked between clenched teeth, the lie he’d told tearing at his gut.

  Because Merry was alive and well and living with Valeria and Rui do Mar, the Rock Run couple who’d adopted her after Silver’s death.

  Jace glanced at where Zuri had followed Langdon and his guards into the hall. “Yeah. Zuri says he’s left the building.”

  “Good.” Adric got up, stumbled the few feet to a potted plant, and vomited into the dirt.

  20

  “Fucking maze,” Fane mumbled.

  How long had he been wandering the spiraling paths? Hours, maybe days. He was exhausted, his tongue thick from thirst.

  Sindre was toying with him, the bastard. The man was a Gifted illusionist. He could conjure up nightmares so real you could touch them.

  Fane had to keep moving. To stop—to give in any way—might be fatal.

  He set his right hand on the wall. Wasn’t there something about a right-hand rule? Touch the wall of a maze with your right hand and at every turn, go right, and you’ll eventually find your way out. But you had to do it as soon as you entered the maze, so it was probably too late. And it wouldn’t work anyhow on a maze that continually remade itself.

  He kept his hand on the wall anyway, and trudged on.

  Where was Marjani? Had the goblins captured her while he was lost in this endless white world?

  If only he hadn’t accepted Sindre’s geas. But he had, and a geas was almost impossible to break.

  Even if he did manage to break it, he’d lose everything: his job as an envoy, the money he’d earned since accepting the bargain. Worse, he’d be shamed, known throughout the magical world as a vow-breaker.

  The shame wouldn’t fall on just him, either. It would attach to his dad, Arne, and maybe even Roald.

  Back when he’d accepted the geas, ninety-nine human years hadn’t seemed that long. But now the years inched by…and he still had thirty-nine to go.

  “Sleep,” a woman murmured. “You’re safe.”

  “No.” He shook his head from side to side. “I’ll die. And the king will get Marjani.”

  “Is that what’s bothering you? I’m right here. Safe. We’re both safe.”

  He opened his eyes. Marjani’s face swam into view, but he didn’t trust his eyes. It would be just like Sindre to taunt him with the one woman Fane most wanted.

  “Jani?” he croaked. “It’s really you? This isn’t some trick?”

  “I’m here.” A warm hand settled on his chest. “See? You can feel me, right?”

  “Thank the gods.” He gripped her fingers…and the world whirled away.

  He’d walked for another endless day when the wall disintegrated into a chilly white mist that slowly engulfed him. He tried to outrun it, but it was all around him.

  No. It’s a trick.

  He lifted his chin. “Mind over matter, Fane.” Because if he could somehow see through the illusion, it would disappear.

  The fog covered his face. Reaching his arms out in front of him, he stumbled blindly forward until his legs gave out.

  So much for mind over matter.

  “At least,” he told Sindre as the blackness came up to meet him, “you don’t have Jani.”

  He could swore he heard the king chuckle.

  “I’m here,” she said. “I’m here.”

  He didn’t know how long he was out—an hour? A day? But when he came to, the fog was gone and he was curled up on the stone floor, shivering.

  He groaned and wrapped his arms around himself.

  “Easy, now.” Gentle hands lifted him onto a lap, stroked the side of his face. A woman, but it couldn’t be Marjani. After what he’d done, she must be far away by now.

  His eyelids seemed to have been glued shut. “Mom?”

  “No. It’s me—Jani.”

  He pried open his sticky lids and focused on the woman gazing down at him with a furrowed brow. “Jani?” Relief washed through him. “You’re…okay. It wasn’t a dream.”

  “Shh—don’t talk. Drink.” She slid a hand under his head to lift it, and then set a cup to his lips.

  He gulped the water greedily, draining the cup. “More.”

  “Okay.” She set the cup down and started to move him off her.

  “No!” Panicked, he grabbed her legs. “Don’t leave.”

  “Just for a minute. You have a fever—you need water.”

  “No.” He tightened his grip on her, not giving a fuck that he was being unreasonable. Marjani was the solid boulder around which the rest of the world swirled. If she left him, he’d be engulfed by the maze again.

  “Okay.” Cool fingers stroked his hair back from his face. “Calm down.”

  “Thank you,” he rasped and dozed off. When she lifted his head off her lap and set it on something soft, he was too weak to protest. Then he passed out. This time, his sleep was dreamless.

  When he next opened his eyes, his head ached and he was hot as Hades, his mouth so dry he could barely swallow. He peered blearily around for Marjani, but she was nowhere to be seen.

  His heart slapped wildly against his rib cage.

  Had she left him? Or worse, been seized by the goblins?

  She murmured something against his shoulder and his heart resumed its normal tempo. She was spooned up against his back, her arm around his waist, her breathing the slow, steady rhythm of sleep.

  Relieved, he let out a jagged exhale and then stilled, afraid to wake her in case she left for real. But she had the senses of a cat.

  She sat up, yawning, and set her fingers to his forehead. “Holy mother. You’re burning up.”

  Rising to her feet, she stripped off her T-shirt and soaked it in the thermal pool. She had on a plain black exercise bra—of course. This woman wouldn’t be caught dead in anything lacy.

  As she wrung out the T-shirt, he eyed the strong, beautiful muscles in her shoulders and arms. A wry grin tugged on his mouth. He finally had her stripping off her clothes and he was too damn weak to do anything about it.

  She returned with the wet T-shi
rt and set it on his forehead. He closed his eyes as the ache in his head receded.

  “Here. Drink something.” She lifted his head—so gently it made his heart clench—and held a cup to his lips. Somehow, he hadn’t thought she had it in her.

  Not that he deserved her kindness. Hell, if he was Marjani, he’d bang his head on the cavern floor. Hard.

  He sucked the water down. “More, please.”

  She nodded and made another trip to the pool—three trips in all before he’d had enough water. By then the T-shirt had warmed from his skin. He turned it over so that the cooler side lay against his forehead.

  Marjani took it and wiped his face and neck before rising to wet it again.

  He felt under his head. He was laying on soft wool. He turned his head to look at it.

  “You…need your sweater.” He tugged at it.

  “No worries.” She returned to drape the wet cloth over his forehead again, covering his eyes. “It’s warm in here, and if I get too cold, I can always shift to my cougar.”

  He pushed up the T-shirt to look at her. “I…thank you.”

  Tears leaked from the corners of his eyes. He pulled the cloth back down and lay there, humiliated.

  She touched his wrist. “You’d have done the same for me.”

  “If you believe that…” He trailed off.

  Because he would’ve.

  In fact, he’d thrown away his whole way of life for her. If he was lucky, Sindre would release him from the geas. If not, he was going to spend the next thirty-nine turns of the sun in a private hell of the ice fae king’s making.

  Arne was going to be disappointed—he’d stuck his neck out for Fane, arguing that his son deserved a chance even if he was only a quarter fae. And his grandfather Roald would sear him with one of those looks that said, What do you expect from a mixed-blood?

  His chest tightened, and what felt like a chunk of basalt lodged in his gut.

  Marjani sat next to him, legs folded lotus-style. “Rest.” She set a hand on his heart. “Right now, you need to get better. Everything else can wait.”

  He moved his chin, a short up-and-down motion.

  She turned over the damp cloth. “Close your eyes.”

  When he obeyed, she smoothed it over his forehead and then placed her hand over his heart again.

  Marjani was safe. That made it all worthwhile.

  The tightness in his chest eased and he fell into a deep, healing sleep.

  21

  Between them, Jace and Zuri managed to get Adric back to his den before he threw up again. At least this time, he made it to the toilet first.

  After rinsing out his mouth, he staggered back to the living room to collapse on the couch. He lay there shaking, his body exuding a rank odor.

  Zuri sat on the couch’s other end. “I’m staying here tonight. I can sleep in Jani’s room.”

  His glare dared Adric to object, but Adric just nodded. “Works.”

  Jace remained standing, his brow creased with worry. “I have to go back to Grace Harbor. I don’t trust the night fae not to mess with Evie and Kyler, even with Horace there.”

  “Go,” Adric rasped. “But call Merry. In the morning.”

  Because Langdon would investigate to see if she was really dead.

  Unfortunately, they couldn’t call her adopted parents, because water fada couldn’t use small electronics—their bodies tended to short them out. Meanwhile, Merry was protected by Rock Run’s wards, and Adric didn’t want to scare her—the kid was only thirteen, after all.

  Besides, Rui do Mar, her adopted father, was a scary-ass shark fada. If Langdon wanted Merry, he’d have to get past do Mar, and the shark shifter would die before he let that happen.

  “Tell her…get a new quartz,” he added. “Throw…the old one in the river. The ward of protection—the prince might be able to trace her through it.”

  She’d lose the protection, but with Tyrus dead, it probably wasn’t necessary anymore.

  “Will do.” Jace shook his head. “Lord, you’re a crazy mofo. I can’t believe you told a fae prince a lie right to his face. But you’re right. Let him think she’s dead—at least until she’s grown up.”

  “The sun fae queen will protect her,” Zuri interjected.

  “Yeah.” Adric hadn’t thought of that. But Queen Cleia loved Jace’s skinny, serious niece. “Do Mar.” He clamped his jaw shut against another wave of queasiness.

  Jace understood. “I’ll tell Merry to have him contact you.”

  “Make sure…he knows it’s important. The Full Moon Saloon.” It was a shifter bar in Fells Point. “Tonight, seven o’clock.”

  Jace studied him doubtfully. “You sure you’re up for it?”

  “Yeah.” Adric rested his head against the couch’s worn fabric. “Just need…sleep.”

  The rest of the night passed in a feverish haze. Jace left for Grace Harbor, and Zuri contacted Suha. He tried to help Adric to bed, but Adric bared his teeth and he backed off.

  And he did it, even though it took him a good five minutes to strip to his boxers and ease himself under the sheets.

  Suha arrived shortly after, dressed in a bright, tribal-patterned tunic and leggings. The clan’s head healer was a deer fada with short black hair, a pretty oval face, and a doe’s calm brown eyes. One look at him, and her full mouth tightened.

  “Holy shit, Ric. What did you do now?”

  Zuri opened his mouth, but Adric stopped him with a look.

  “I told a lie.”

  That was all Suha needed to know. The healer might be like family to him and Jani, but secrets had a way of spreading through the clan. And right now, the clan didn’t need any more upsets.

  Her fine dark brows climbed. “A whopper, from the looks of it.”

  Zuri got a stool from the living room and put it next to the bed. Taking a seat, Suha removed her quartz and held it over his heart, her other hand on his arm.

  Zuri hovered on the other side of the bed, his good-looking face grim.

  “For fuck’s sake,” Adric said. “I’m not going to die.”

  Zuri backed up a step and folded his big arms over his chest. “From where I’m standing, that’s debatable.”

  Suha touched the wolf fada’s leg. “Why don’t you go get something to eat, babe? The bar on the corner makes killer quesadillas.”

  “And then get some sleep,” Adric growled. “I don’t need you standing guard over me. If I need you, I’ll call.”

  Zuri hesitated and then jerked his chin. “All right.”

  Suha waited until the front door closed behind him and then murmured, “Breathe. Let the warmth fill you.”

  She moved the quartz in a slow circuit from his throat—which had spoken the lie—to his still-upset stomach, and then back to his heart.

  Adric rarely allowed Suha to use her healing Gift on him. Healing burned a lot of energy, and he preferred she save it for the clan members who really needed it.

  But he had to admit, it felt good. He sighed with relief as a pleasant heat spread like warm honey throughout his body. His painfully clenched stomach eased.

  “That’s it.” The healer’s eyes were half-closed. “Relax. Let your own energy work with mine.”

  His own quartz hummed in response, accepting Suha’s healing energy and using it to counteract the toxins that the lie had released in his body.

  His eyelids shut. The next thing he knew it was five in the afternoon, and Zuri was frowning down at him.

  “Ric. You all right?”

  “Yeah.” Adric sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. “Yeah,” he repeated, more firmly. He felt a little dizzy, but his stomach had settled. Suha’s healing energy had done the trick. It would be a few days until he was back to a hundred percent, but his head had cleared and he was no longer shaking.

  From the kitchen came a mouthwatering fragrance. His stomach growled.

  “You made me your mom’s soup?” Zuri’s spicy chicken soup—a Moroccan recipe p
assed down through his mom’s family—was famous in the clan.

  “Yep.” The tall, brown-skinned lieutenant broke into a rare smile. “But first, take a fucking shower.”

  Adric rubbed his nose. “I was hoping that smell wasn’t me.”

  By 6:45 p.m., Adric was at the Full Moon Saloon, having showered, dressed and downed a big bowl of Zuri’s chicken soup.

  At ten to seven, Rui do Mar roared up on a big black bike. Adric nodded to the bouncer to let him in. They’d cleared the bar of everyone but Zuri and a handful of trusted soldiers. Even the owner had been told to wait in his office.

  Do Mar was a large, olive-skinned man with short dark hair, a square jaw and hooded green eyes. He strode inside, took one sniff and headed for the dark corner table where Adric waited. The shark shifter could scent a few drops of blood in a fast-flowing river. Detecting Adric’s scent in an uncrowded bar must be child’s play for him.

  “Lord Adric,” he said in his Portuguese-accented English as he dropped into the seat across from Adric. “Merry says you wish to speak with me.”

  No preliminary bullshit with this guy—he went straight to the point. But that was fine with Adric.

  “We have a situation. The night fae prince.”

  “And?” Do Mar lifted a black brow.

  “You know his son died.”

  Do Mar nodded. “We do.”

  Of course they did. Adric would bet Rock Run even knew that a Baltimore fada had killed Tyrus. But most people believed it had been Adric who’d knifed the man—because that was how he wanted it.

  “He asked about Merry,” he told do Mar. “He wanted me to agree to give him access to her.”

  “In exchange for what?”

  My sister’s life. “That’s clan business. But I lied—told him Merry was dead.”

  Adric caught a hint of surprise in the other man’s scent, but his face remained impassive. “I see.”

  “She got rid of her quartz?” Adric asked, even though he knew the answer. He no longer felt the thin bond connecting him to Merry.

  “Sim, yes. It was hard, but she trusts you.”

  Adric’s cheek flexed. “I’m sorry.” He was Merry’s alpha. It was only right that she trusted and obeyed him—no matter that Rock Run had claimed her as an honorary river fada—but he’d hated like hell to give the order. It hurt an earth fada to remove their quartz. “It’s for her own protection.”

 

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