We heard the music first, strange, halting, flute-like music, and then King Asador, Lord of the Dawn, swept into the room, followed by a line of attendants, guards, and musicians. Loki bowed, and I gave Asador the best curtsey I could possibly manage.
“Lie-Smith,” said Asador, inclining his head very slightly in our direction. “You honor our agreement.”
“Of course,” said Loki, smiling. It was not an especially friendly smile.
There was a moment of tense silence. I waited to see if either of them would mention the company of soldiers sent to collect us. Then Asador gestured toward the table.
“Please,” he said, “join me.”
Three light elves moved forward and soundlessly pulled the chairs back. King Asador turned to face us, and Loki squeezed my hand, very deliberately, three times. It only took me a second to see it, and to squeeze his hand in return.
There, fastened on a thick, golden chain around Asador’s shoulders, was a large, clear crystal flashing with its own pale green light.
CHAPTER FIVE
We sat down to eat. Silent Light-elves brought a plate of leafy greens sprinkled with unfamiliar flowers and delicate crystal goblets of sparkling red wine. I waited until Loki ate, and then I did the same. The salad was peppery and sweet, the wine amazing.
Asador sat at the head of the table, with his back to the vast, open wall and the crashing ocean behind him. As soon as we were seated, he turned his attention to Loki and began to speak in an unfamiliar language, something that sounded like the hiss and rustle of waves on stones. Loki answered him in kind, his face giving away nothing, although his lips and cheeks grew flushed. I had no idea what the hell they were talking about, so I tried to examine the Light-elves as discreetly as possible. I noticed all the elves, even the musicians, wore long curving daggers on their waists. I tried to calculate how quickly they’d be able to stab me if I made a move toward the luminescent crystal in chains around Asador’s neck. Pretty damn quickly, I thought.
Asador ignored me for the first three courses. Then, after we’d eaten some sort of meat in a rich, velvety red sauce, he turned to me for the first time.
“You are impregnated?” he asked, in a tone of utter indifference.
I choked on my wine, coughing into my hand. “Excuse me?”
But Asador had already turned his attention back to Loki.
“No, she’s not,” said Loki. His cheeks seemed very red in the dancing light of the tapers. “We’ve decided to wait. She has a career to consider.”
Asador raised an eyebrow. “This will weaken your claim,” he said, rolling his crystal goblet in his palm.
“And here I thought I’d made it abundantly clear that I am not making a claim.”
“With words,” sighed Asador, sounding tremendously bored. “And we all know how much words mean to you.”
There was a crash, and I jumped as something cold hit my legs. I looked down to see a broken crystal goblet, dark liquid leaking across the polished wood floor, catching and refracting the candlelight.
I turned to see Loki staring at his own empty hand. His eyes widened as they met mine, and his lips moved, but no sound came out. Then his head hit the table.
I screamed and jumped. Two guards were instantly beside me, their double-jointed hands holding me to the chair. I turned back to Loki. His eyes clouded, and his illusions faded. I could see the delicate, white scars around his eyes, the thick bands of scar tissue over his lips. He doesn’t want to be seen like this, I thought, frantically. He’ll be embarrassed. I tried to shift in my chair, to cover his face, but the guards held me fast.
“Lord of the Dawn,” I said, trying to force the tremble out of my voice. “What have you done with my husband?”
Asador ignored me. He waved his long hand, speaking in that rattling, stone voice. Two more guards appeared and lifted Loki out of the chair, carrying him from the room. I turned to see his flaming hair dragging on the floor as they pulled his limp body through one of the dark, circular doorways.
I struggled against the guards, but they forced my back against the chair, holding my upper body motionless. I pulled back my foot and shot it forward under the table, hitting Asador in the shins as hard as I possibly could.
“Hey!” I yelled. “What the fuck!”
Asador finally turned to me, raising an eyebrow as the guards violently yanked my chair back, out of kicking range.
“What have you done!” I yelled. “Where did you take him?”
“Interesting,” Asador said. He waved his hand and the guards released my arms. For a heartbeat, I considered running after Loki. But the crystal is here. I took a deep breath and turned to face the King of the Light-elves.
“And what did he promise you?” Asador asked, staring at me with his pale eyes as if I were an especially fascinating or revolting new species of insect. “You are to be queen, I take it?”
I had no idea what he was talking about. “We…haven’t made any promises,” I said, realizing the words were true as soon as they fell from my mouth.
Our wedding vows had not included promises to forsake all others, to love through sickness and health, for richer or for poorer. We hadn’t even exchanged rings. I am bound to you, we said to each other. You are a part of me. Words, with intention. A statement of fact. No promises.
“Hmmmmm…” Asador brought his hand to his mouth, staring at me. “Has he told you nothing of his plans?”
“He told me we were going on a honeymoon,” I said. It sounded absurd, even to me.
Asador narrowed his eyes at me. “Wife of the Lie-Smith,” he said. “Interesting. I would have thought he’d choose someone clever.”
I felt my cheeks flush. Before I could think of a response, Asador’s hand shot out over the table and grabbed my wrist. His skin was warm and smooth against mine. He flipped my hand over, then traced an odd serpentine pattern in the skin on my forearm. It was exquisitely creepy, and a ripple of cold fear ran down my spine.
“Where have you taken my husband?” I asked, trying to sound intimidating.
Asador shrugged. “Oh, there’s not a prison build that could hold that bastard for long. But you… If he really does care about you.”
I said nothing, clenching my jaw. His long, double jointed fingers were still tracing my forearm, sending shivers through my body.
“How did he get you to come here?” Asador muttered, turning his pale eyes to my face. I realized they were glowing, phosphorescing softly in the candlelight, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. “If it wasn’t the promise of a child… or a crown. Money, perhaps?”
I met his gaze, trying to remain calm. Trying to look like the wife of an Ӕsir.
“Oh, obviously!” Asador said, and his eyes flashed. “Oh, but of course! So primitive.”
He closed his hand around my arm and squeezed. I felt a flash of heat surge through my body and flow between my legs. My nipples hardened under my dress. This can’t possibly be turning me on.
“The Ӕsir do think they’re quite the lovers, don’t they?” Asador said, his smooth voice cutting through my thoughts. “Allow me to show you true pleasure.”
He pulled my arm closer, his fingers dancing over my wrist as a low tingling heat built in the pit of my stomach. No, I thought, trembling and suddenly dizzy. I gasped as my body rippled with heat and pleasure, bizarre, inappropriate pleasure. Arousal flooded the space between my legs and my hips kicked against the chair, rocking faster and faster. I bit my cheek and tried to fight it, but the orgasm tore through my body, my muscles seizing, my mind overwhelmed. Oh, no, don’t, I thought as my lips ripped open and a low, animal cry fled from my lips.
I fell back against the chair as the braided branches of the ceiling swum in and out of focus in the shifting candlelight. I wanted to scream, but I was suddenly afraid I might throw up if I opened my mouth. Dimly, I realized Asador was still holding my wrist. I don’t want to look at him, I thought, trembling. I really do not want to face him.
I blinked, took a deep, shuddering breath, and lowered my head to Asador. The crystal shimmered on his chest, safe in a nest of golden chains. Just out of reach.
“There,” he said. “That was simple. Light-elves are ever so much better at these things.”
My skin began to crawl again, and I realized he was still running his fingers along my wrist. I shuddered and tried to pull my arm out of his grasp. His smooth fingers tightened.
“What’s the matter?” he said, giving me a wide, predatory smile. “You aren’t used to such satisfaction?”
My heart hammered wildly against my ribcage, but I forced myself to hold still. If I tried to pull my arm back again, and he didn’t let go, I might actually panic. And I couldn’t afford to panic.
I took a deep breath and smiled at Asador. “No,” I said, my voice trembling. “No, I’m not.”
* * * * * * *
“They will underestimate you,” Loki told me as we lay together on the bed in his cabin, our bodies spent, our legs intertwined. “All of them will underestimate you, but especially Asador. The Light-elves believe themselves superior to all other lifeforms, including the Ӕsir. I doubt they consider Midgardian mortals fully sentient.”
“Great,” I muttered.
“Yes, it is great,” he said, meeting my eyes. “It’s a weakness we can exploit. You want to be underestimated. You want to be invisible.”
I sighed. “Underestimated. Invisible. Got it.”
“Remember, the crystal is—”
“Basically glass,” I said.
“Right. And that means?”
“It can break.”
“Yes.” Loki smiled at me. “It can break.”
* * * * * * *
“You’re right,” I said, smiling widely at Asador. Just like an idiot mortal. “Loki can’t—I mean, I’ve never felt like that with Loki.”
And that’s the goddamn truth. I’ve never wanted to vomit after Loki.
Asador chuckled at me, like he was indulging a well-trained pet. “Would you like to feel it again?” he asked, his fingers tracing the inside of my elbow.
“Oh!” I gasped, dropping my free hand to my side. I ran my fingers across the folds of my skirt, feeling for the pocket. “But… Asador…” I turned my head to the side, and batted my eyelashes at him. Time to see if that trick actually works.
“Yes?” His smiled widened, flashing more teeth. Maybe the eyelashes worked after all.
“Loki usually… kisses me.” I flushed.
Asador rocked back, smiling triumphantly. It was a familiar smile, somehow, though it took me a second to place it. Doug McInnes, I thought, and my skin crawled. That’s the exact smile Doug gave me when he thought he’d won, when he thought there was no possible way I could counter his argument. Oh, fuck you, Asador, I thought, smiling sweetly. My fingers found the entrance to my pocket, and I slipped my hand inside, tracing the thick, soft fabric. Come on, come on...
“I see,” he said. “How delightfully animalistic. Come over here.”
Asador released my forearm. I stood slowly and walked around the table, ignoring the guards flanking my chair, the row of Light-elves standing against the walls. My fingertips finally brushed against something hard and smooth in my pocket, and I tried not to let relief flash across my face. My hand closed around the smooth, hard stone I’d found near the cabin, forming a fist inside my pocket.
I hesitated once I reached Asador. Seated, his head was level with mine. I felt a wave of revulsion, bit the inside of my cheek, and offered him my arm.
He took my wrist, closed his long, double-jointed fingers around it, and pulled me close. I was standing between his legs; I could feel his breath on my face. He stared at me, his pale gaze cold and clinical.
“It’s too simple,” he muttered. “How could you possibly hold his attention? Or have we over-estimated him all these long years?”
I swallowed, my fist tightening around the rock in my pocket. Distract him. “He...he said he loves me.”
“Hmmmm,” said Asador, turning his gaze to my arm. His fingers began to move across my forearm, and I felt unwelcome heat rush between my legs.
“And he kisses me,” I panted, my voice already tight in my throat.
Asador pulled on my hand and I fell forward until my face met his. His lips pressed to mine without moving, and his fingers locked around my wrist. I yanked the stone from my pocket and brought it down, hard, on the crystal resting against his chest.
The world exploded.
Pain shot through my hand as green fire leapt from Asador’s chest. I ripped my wrist away from his grasp and jumped backward as he exploded to his feet, screaming. I turned toward the door where they’d taken Loki, but the guards grabbed me before I could move.
“YOU WHORE!” Asador roared. His hands clawed at his chest, trying to contain the fire roaring out of the broken crystal.
Asador stalked over to me, green flames pouring from his chest and through his fingers. He raised his fist and hit me, hit me so hard my head rocked back and the world exploded with white.
“You have no idea what you’ve done! You pathetic little trollop! I will personally rip your intestines from your gut, and you will watch me feed them to my dogs!”
I sagged against the steel grip of the guards. Asador grabbed my arms, and my body caught fire. My skin rippled with heat, and I screamed and screamed as the room vanished in a red haze.
CHAPTER SIX
Somewhere, someone was sobbing. Pathetically. Incessantly. It was very dark, and someone would not stop crying. I tried to force my eyes open. My face hurt. Everything hurt.
And the sobbing—
It was me.
Trembling, I took a deep, jagged breath, trying to stop crying. I started coughing, gagged, and staggered to my hands and knees as I threw up, violently, my entire body shuddering, my throat burning. When I finally stopped retching, I wiped my hand across my mouth, coughed again, and forced my eyes open.
The room was very dark, but the open wall was alight with stars gleaming above the distant ocean. I remember this room, I thought. This is where we had dinner. I rocked back on my knees. My muscles sang with pain. I brought my hands to my face, tentatively. My skin felt normal, if a bit tender, and I exhaled slowly. Perhaps there was no permanent damage. To me, at least, I thought with a shudder. But why am I still here?
I crawled to the dark outline of the table, pulling myself up against a chair. My legs trembled, and I felt another wave of nausea. I dropped my head to my chest, taking slow, deep breaths until the room stopped spinning.
There was an odd sound filling the room, floating above the crash of the waves on the shore. I tilted my head to the side, listening. Yes, there it was again. It was a roar, a distant roar. Like…hoofbeats. I shivered. The Dark-elves. I brought my hand to the pendant around my neck, the pendant Loki had given me years ago.
“Loki?” I whispered.
There was no response. The outline of the room slowly took shape as my eyes adjusted to the dim starlight. The looming darkness in the far wall must be the row of circular doorways. And one of them was the doorway where they’d dragged Loki.
I straightened my back and stepped away from the table, my legs trembling, my muscles stiff and aching. I forced myself to walk slowly and deliberately toward the darkness in the far wall, my fingers wrapped around the pendant.
The hoofbeats were getting louder. I could now hear screaming as well.
I was halfway to the door when my foot hit something with a soft, sickening thud. I staggered backward, my hand over my mouth. Then I bent in the darkness, feeling for the floor. The smooth, polished wood was wet. I inched forward until my fingers touched the smooth rasp of clothing—
The candles flared to life, filling the room with light, and I jumped to my feet. A Light-elf guard stood in the doorway, his long, wicked sword pointed at me. I glanced down. There was a dead Light-elf guard at my feet; his blood spread across the floor in a dark burgundy slick.
/>
“Don’t come any closer!” I yelled, raising my fist. My fingers were still clenched around the smooth stone from the cabin. I dimly realized they were also covered with blood. “I’ve killed him! I can kill you too!”
The guard stepped closer, and his face broke into a wide smile. “Oh, I love you, mortal woman,” he said, with Loki’s voice.
My shoulders sagged with relief, and I stepped over the dead guard’s body and into his arms.
“You destroyed the crystal,” he said.
I nodded against his chest. He felt like a Light-elf in my arms, but he smelled like my husband. Woodsmoke and salt spray.
“Are you hurt?” he asked.
“Yeah. A little. Nothing permanent, I think. Are you—”
“Shhhh!” Loki brought his bizarre, double-jointed finger to my lips as he tilted his head to one side. I heard voices in the hallway.
“With me,” Loki growled, sounding every bit like a Light-elf guard as he grabbed me by the arm and pulled me to the hallway.
* * * * * * *
The palace boiled with panic. Elves were running, screaming, carrying spears and bows and huge, wooden chests. No one paid any attention to a Light-elf guard dragging a Midguardian prisoner through the hallways.
Loki stumbled for the first time as we turned down a darkened, silent passage with a gently sloping floor. I reached for his arm, bracing his body against mine as he hissed. His back straightened as a Light-elf ran past us, carrying what looked like an elaborate stringed instrument.
After five minutes of walking the dark, sloping hall, he fell to his knees. I bent, the palm of my hand resting against his cheek. I could hardly see him, but I felt l the rasp of his scars against my skin.
“We should be...close,” he gasped.
I helped him to his feet, and he leaned heavily against me. The passageway was silent, now, with the commotion of the palace behind us. The air held the tang of brine, and I could just hear the crash and roar of surf against the strand. After another dozen steps, I saw the glow of starlight at the mouth of the tunnel.
Honeymoon Page 4