Corban growled.
“You just don’t get it, do you? Ric is stronger than you in every way that counts. The clan has a chance now, under him.”
Her cousin closed his eyes.
She rubbed her nape. Why was she fighting with him? He was going to pass out without her learning anything.
“Tell me what you know about Luc,” she said, “and I’ll do it.”
Beside her, Fane tensed.
Her chest squeezed. She didn’t want him to see this. He’d probably never killed a man in his life, while she’d killed so many, their faces ran together in her mind.
“Go,” she hissed. “I promise, I’ll be there in a minute.”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “I’ll wait.”
“Please,” she said, but all she got was a shake of his head.
Then Corban spoke, and she turned back to him. Maybe it was better if Fane saw her as she really was—a killer. Then she wouldn’t be forced to reject the mate bond, because he would.
“He’s…with her,” Corban said. “The lady.”
“He went with her willingly?”
“Yes. She…told him…only way…to help you.”
“She lied to him?”
“Don’t know.”
“It might not be a lie,” Fane inserted. “You're alive, aren’t you? That may be due to the bargain he struck with her.”
Oh, Luc. Marjani briefly closed her eyes.
“So he’s bound to her?” she asked. “He accepted her geas?”
“Yeah. She has a thing for fada lovers. Luc’s probably even enjoying himself.” Corban’s lips stretched in a death’s-head grin. “Until he…pisses her off.”
“Is that what you did? Pissed her off?”
A shrug. “I told you…what you asked. Now…do it.”
“One more thing. What did you tell her about our quartz?”
Her cousin’s eyes slid sideways. That was all the answer she needed. Her breath caught at his treachery.
“Damn it, Corban. What the fuck have you done?”
“Couldn’t…help it. She’d heard something. Figured…some of it out herself. I tried to…bargain with her. But I lost.”
“Jani.” Fane touched the small of her back. “We have to go.”
“I’ll be right there.” She crouched next to the cage. Corban’s eyes met hers through the iron bars.
“You don’t have to do this,” Fane said. “I know it’s why you came, but he’ll be dead by tomorrow anyway.”
She shook her head. It wasn’t about her revenge anymore, but how could she explain that to Fane? She barely understood herself.
“Do it.” Her cousin crawled forward until they were just inches apart. He stared at her, his body trembling from the effort to keep himself on all fours. “Or are you too weak?”
Anger spiked through her. Not because he’d called her weak—she knew he was simply trying to goad her into doing it—but because she was going to have to kill her own cousin. Yet another death to haunt her.
“Fuck you.” She pressed the catch releasing the blade. “I hope you go straight to Hades.”
“Count on it.” His mouth twisted. “Wondered if…you had…it in you.”
“Believe it. I learned from the best, remember?” She slid her arm through the bars, careful not to touch the iron.
Corban gave a weak chuckle, before turning his head at an angle so she could slice his artery. He closed his eyes.
She took a deep breath, and then did it, quick and clean. It took a minute for him to bleed out. She set a hand on his shoulder and waited. She needed to witness this, so she could report to Adric that he was really dead.
And because even a bastard like her cousin didn’t deserve to die alone.
Corban’s eyelids fluttered. “Tell Adric…not doing…so bad.”
She swallowed over a boulder-sized lump. “I will.”
Air rattled in his emaciated chest—and then he lay still. His heart gave a few rapid, erratic beats and then lurched to a stop.
“Peace,” she whispered and stood up. She wiped her blade on her pants leg and then shoved it into her pocket.
Her eyes met Fane’s. She lifted her chin. Just let him look down at her. She refused to be ashamed.
But he held out his arms. “Come here.”
Her mouth worked. She stared at him miserably, and then stumbled the three steps between them. His arms wrapped around her, strong and comforting.
“You did good,” he said. “It was a kindness to put the poor man out of his misery.”
Her breath rasped out. He was right. So why did her heart feel like a weight had been attached to it?
She’d hated Corban, but he’d still been her cousin. And a member of the clan.
She closed her eyes and breathed in Fane’s clean scent. “I wish…”
He nodded against her hair. “Me, too.”
“Why the hell did I have to meet you? I was doing just fine without you.”
“I know you were.”
“No, I wasn’t,” she contradicted. “I was going feral. I am going feral. It’s just too fucking hard to be a human.”
And then she was blubbering like a baby. Deep, wrenching sobs that felt like she was being turned inside out.
“Hush, now.” Fane rubbed her back. “It’s okay, love. It’s okay.”
She cried harder. Because it wasn’t okay, and it hadn’t been for a long time. The Darktime had taken her mom and dad, and good friends like Jace’s sister Takira.
And although the Darktime was supposed to be over, bad things just kept happening.
“I’m…so tired,” she said on a sob. “So fucking tired. Of all the killing. And I can barely control my animal anymore. It wants out, and I’m not sure why I shouldn’t let it.”
“Oh, love.” Fane rocked her back and forth like she was a child. “I’m so sorry. Your cougar is beautiful, but so is the human part of you.”
Her breath rasped in. “But it’s so…hard to be human,” she said to his chest.
The cat was so much less complicated. Straightforward. Basic. Mess with it, and it would rip out your throat and not lose a moment’s sleep.
“I know.” Soft lips brushed over her temple. “But you’re not an animal, you’re a fada. And I’m pretty sure that means accepting every part of you. Woman. Cougar. Even that small part of you that’s fae.”
She took another rasping breath and nodded. He was right. She’d just been trying to forget it.
“And you know what?” He pressed a kiss to each of her eyes. “I want to learn every part of you. Everything. Because that’s what makes you who you are.”
His words were balm to her broken soul. For so long, rage had been a bitter black knot in her chest.
Now, the knot slowly unclenched. Her sobs slowed until she hung in Fane’s arms, drained.
“I love you.” Fane stroked a hand over her head. “Whatever happens, remember that, okay?” He waited until she nodded before saying, “Stars, I hate to say this—but we have to go. The geas is pulling on me. And if we stay here much longer, that bitch might come back.”
“Okay. Okay.” She took a deep breath and then pushed away from him. She scrubbed at her face, knowing she must look like shit. And why did she care? But she did. Fane made her care about things like that.
He took her by the arm. “You all right?”
“Yeah.” She took a last look at Corban. The lines of pain bracketing his mouth had smoothed. He looked almost peaceful. That was something, anyway.
Her jaw tightened. “You know what? I hope it pisses off Lady B to find him dead. The woman’s a monster.”
His smile held absolutely no humor. “It will. That, I can guarantee.”
He reached for her, but she shook her head. “Let me wash first.” Crossing the room to the kitchenette, she turned on the faucet as hot as she could stand and scrubbed her hands and arms.
As she watched the blood-stained water swirl down the drain, the shadows in
the tower thickened. Her fangs pricked her gums.
She washed the tears from her face and strode back to Fane. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”
“Yeah.” He twined his fingers through hers, and together, they headed down the stairs.
30
Mates. As they exited the tower, Fane tightened his grip on Marjani’s hand. He’d sensed the bond come to life, warming him from the inside out. Filling him with wonder—and hope, small but stubborn.
Through the bond, he’d felt her fear that he’d judge her for taking her cousin’s life. But he’d known it was a mercy killing. He hurt for her, but he understood.
Gods, he’d hated seeing her cry. She might as well have reached into his chest and cracked open his heart. So much pain, his warrior woman had endured. Sometimes fate was one cruel son of a bitch.
When they got out of this—and they would get out of this—he’d spend the rest of his days showing her there was more to life than what she’d seen so far. Maybe that wolf fada would be better for her, but then again, maybe not.
A serious woman like Marjani needed someone to help her lighten up, make her smile. A man like Fane.
They set out for the north tower. Suddenly, the maze was nearly impossible to navigate, narrowing until they could barely squeeze through the tall walls, spiraling in on itself like a twisted skein of yarn and sending them down multiple dead-ends.
Marjani plodded alongside him, shoulders hunched a little. He hated to see her so subdued. He wracked his brains for a way to help her escape, even if it meant fighting Sindre’s direct order. But the king knew she was here. How far would she get?
Anger churned in Fane’s stomach. He felt so goddamned powerless.
“Cat’s balls,” Marjani muttered. “Does the man want us to get to his tower or not?”
“Oh, he wants us there.” Fane glared at the towering white wall that had sprung up out of nowhere to block them. “He’s just playing one of his fucking games.” And messing with Fane’s head. He was a wayfarer, a man always on the move. He hated small, enclosed spaces, and Sindre knew it.
At last, they came upon a familiar passageway filled with fae heading to dinner in the great hall. No one seemed surprised to see Fane and Marjani’s fading bruises and tattered clothes. But then, gossip spread like wildfire through the court.
Most of the fae barely noticed them, uncaring what a mixed-blood and a fada were up to. Some shook their heads, their mouths in disapproving lines. A few smiled and nodded.
Fane kept a firm grip on Marjani’s hand, proud to be seen with her. She was strong. Beautiful. Caring. And if she had a problem with you, she’d tell you straight out, instead of circling around the subject like these beautiful, two-faced creatures.
So he nodded back to the friendly fae, and ignored the rest.
“So.” Marjani gave him the side-eye. “You’re the famous Lord Roald’s grandson. I had no idea.”
“Trust me, he wants it that way. I’m a wayfarer, which means I’m a frivolous SOB who’d rather drink a beer with you than fight. Just like my dad. Roald blames it on my human grandmother—except humans don’t have Gifts.”
Her lips twitched. “If the shoe fits…”
He hooked an arm around her neck, glad she seemed to be feeling better. “We prefer to say we’re well-rounded. What’s wrong with enjoying life’s pleasures?”
“Don’t change, okay?” She reached up to squeeze his hand. “The world needs more people like you.”
He nuzzled her ear. “I gave up trying to change a long time ago. Too much work. And I like me as I am.”
She shook her head. “You’re impossible.”
“Now you sound like Roald.” He released her to slip through a narrow opening.
“But you would like to be a full member of the court,” she said when they were side by side again.
He lifted a shoulder and let it drop.
“Why? What would it mean, exactly?”
“The short answer? I’d be one of them. Right now, there are rituals I can’t attend. Magic I can’t access. And I have to smile and pretend not to see when one of them sneers at me.”
“And that’s important to you—to be accepted as one of them?”
He jerked his head in assent. “I’m one of Sindre’s top envoys, but I’m so low in the hierarchy I might as well be dirt under their feet. If the king declared me a full member of the court, it would make me a pureblood in every way that counts. I could even mate with a pure—” He snapped his mouth shut. “Not that I’d want to. Not now.”
Yeah, it had been his goal once. But not any longer.
She stopped and he did, too. The expression on her face made him reach for her, but she held up a hand. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t give up your dreams. Not for me.”
“But I want to. Those dreams mean nothing if I don’t have you.”
“Fane.” Lines formed between her brows. “This thing—it can’t go anywhere. You know that, right? Nothing has changed.”
Anger clogged his chest. Anger, and a touch of panic. “The hell it hasn’t. You felt the bond, same as me. Don’t try to tell me you didn’t.”
She looked at her bare toes.
“Go ahead,” he growled. “Tell me we’re not mates.”
“I can’t,” she said in a barely audible voice.
“Then what’s the problem?”
“You and me.” She shook her head. “I’m my brother’s second.”
“So? What, you took a vow of celibacy?”
That almost got a smile out of her. “No, but I can’t leave the clan. My brother needs me. The clan needs me. There are so few of us left after the Darktime.”
“We’ll figure it out.” He reached for her, but she took a step back.
“You don’t understand. Adric will never accept you. He can’t.”
He let his hands drop back to his sides. “Why the hell not? He accepted Evie, didn’t he?”
“She’s not under a geas. How could we trust you?” She shook her head. “I’m sorry, but it just wouldn’t work.”
“Okay.” He dragged in a breath. Where was his so-called charm and negotiating ability when he needed it? But he couldn’t seem to leave it be. “Maybe you’re right. But after I serve out the geas?”
She stilled, her eyes searching his. “Are you asking me—?”
“To wait for me? Yeah.” He stepped closer and framed her face. “Don’t answer—not now. Just think about it, okay? I know it’s a lot to ask, but you felt the bond, too. I know you did.” He smoothed a thumb down the smooth butterscotch curve of her cheek.
She opened her mouth to speak, but he stopped her words with a finger. “Later. Somehow, I’ll come to you in Baltimore—or get word to you. I promise. Now come.” He took her hand. “We must be almost there.”
He was right. They turned a corner and there was the door to the north tower. It swung open and they stepped into the anteroom—and into a howling snowstorm that blew up out of nowhere, engulfing them in a blizzard of icy flakes.
“Bloody hell.” He tightened his grip on her hand. “I’m not leaving you here,” he shouted.
“You have to,” she yelled back. “I’ll be all right.”
The wind whirled around them like a mini-tornado, jerking Marjani from his grip. The next thing he knew, what felt like a giant hand slammed into his chest, shoving him toward the outer door.
“Jani.” He tried to reach her but for every step forward, he was forced two steps back. The door opened and he was thrust into the hall. He clung to the doorjamb, bellowing her name.
The dark-haired Irish fada appeared out of the swirling white ball. The wind died, leaving just a few stray flakes drifting down, and a sudden, unnerving silence.
“Welcome, Marjani.” The Irishwoman gave a dignified little bow. “I’m Jewel. The king has directed me to see to your needs.”
Fane tried to re-enter the tower, but couldn’t step over the threshol
d. Fury shook him.
“Damn you, Sindre,” he yelled. “Let me in, you bastard.”
Jewel clucked her tongue at him. “Don’t worry yourself, now. She’ll be fine. I’m to get her ready for dinner, that’s all.” She held out a hand to Marjani. “Come, alanna. You look like you could use a nice hot bath and a change of clothes. And perhaps a cup of tea?”
Marjani nodded at Fane. He knew she sensed the truth in Jewel’s words, same as him. “Go ahead. I’ll see you at dinner.”
He hesitated. Gods, he hated to leave her. Still, what choice did they have but to follow Sindre’s orders? The king had made it clear he wanted both Fane and Marjani at the dinner. Whatever he intended, it involved them both.
“She’ll be fine,” Jewel repeated. Her gaze caught his. “I promise.”
He gave a curt nod and headed back to his room, hating how helpless Sindre made him feel. It was like playing cards with a hand you weren’t allowed to see. But what could Fane do but play out the hand?
In his apartment, he dragged off his ruined clothes and threw them into the garbage chute. Unlike Marjani, both his shoes had remained on and somehow made it through the attack with only a few scuff marks. He left them on the floor next to the closet and headed into the bathroom. He’d have liked a soak in the tub, but he contented himself with a hot shower and a shave.
He racked his brains for a way to save Marjani. Maybe if he signed on to serve Sindre for another ninety-nine years? But he was afraid there was nothing he could offer that the king wanted more than her.
With a muttered curse, he set down his razor and strode naked out of the bathroom.
His father was sprawled on the easy chair, long legs stretched out, a beer in his hand. It was like looking into a mirror—the two of them had the same blond hair, dark brows and narrow face. A poet’s face, his mom had said.
Arne grinned up at him. “There’s my boy.”
That was his dad. Always sure of his welcome. Fane hadn’t seen him in years, and he acted like they’d just met last week.
“Hi, Dad.” Fane glanced at the door, which apparently he hadn’t locked. “Just come in and make yourself at home, why don’t you?”
“I have, thank you.” Arne raised the beer bottle to Fane and then stood up, arms open wide. “Now give your old dad a hug and act like you’re glad to see me.”
Charming Marjani Page 20