The Darkest Night

by Emma V. Leech

  "Please, Corin,” he begged, knowing he would do anything rather than live with the idea that he’d not only lost Ameena, but allowed her to fall into Devil’s hands. “You can berate me all you want later, but please hurry. She's been gone for ages ... I ..." He ran a hand through his hair and Corin nodded. He reached out and put a reassuring hand on Bram’s shoulder.

  "Don't worry, we'll find her. Come, there is no time to waste."

  ***

  Devil’s hand was cool in hers, his grasp firm as Ameena followed him down the maze of corridors that had defeated her so completely earlier tonight. He seemed certain of where he was going, and she was swept along in his wake, as obedient as a dog. She remembered the young man with the collar and lead, and shivered a little.

  The alcohol, or whatever it was he had given her, was threading through her blood. Her mind had been disconnected somehow or, at least, distanced. She felt larger than life, like a goddess, like her problems were nothing to her, of no more consequence or interest than the dilemmas of an ant. It was like a waking dream … yes, that was it. She sighed, realising there was nothing to worry about, she was only dreaming. With every step she took, the sensation deepened, and as he finally paused before a heavy oak door, her body began to thrum with anticipation.

  He drew her inside, into a room just as opulent as all the others she had seen this evening, but she had little interest in her surroundings. The silver eyes drew her like a magnet, hypnotic, and she desperately wanted to know what went on behind them. She wanted to know what made that beautifully cruel mouth laugh or sigh or moan.

  She wanted to be the reason.

  As if on cue, a wicked smile lifted the corners of his lips and she knew he knew. He knew. Everything.

  He didn't speak a word, but took hold of first one wrist, then the other, and she was backed up hard against the wall. He held her hands captive above her head, his strong fingers digging into her flesh. His kiss, when it came, was just as fierce, uncompromising, and she responded without hesitation. She arched her body forward, wanting to feel him against her, but to her frustration, he held himself out of reach. Only his mouth touched her, hard and urgent and skilled. Ameena moaned as he bit her lip before his mouth trailed down her neck. His hands left her wrists and slid down, along her arms to her shoulders as his mouth returned to hers. She kissed him, almost frantic with desire, as though she would cease to breathe if his mouth left hers. As his cool fingers reached the fastenings of her dress, her flesh came alive, as though her skin sang beneath his touch, like a dusty old instrument long forgotten, placed in the hands of a maestro.

  In moments, the vivid blue was a puddle around her feet and she held her breath. To her consternation, he didn't take a moment to look at his prize but released her, turning his back on her and crossing the room to pour himself a drink. Ameena leaned back, feeling the silk wall-covering, cool against her overheated skin, and felt a little disconcerted. Frustration burned under her skin as she watched him, her body aching with need. He moved slowly, ignoring her, removing his jacket and waistcoat and throwing the cravat to the ground as though it offended him. Without the trappings of a gentleman, the pretence of civility, he was revealed as he truly was, and Ameena's heart skipped at the thrill of the danger he presented.

  He sat down, reclining in a high-backed leather chair, regarding her from over the top of his crystal glass. He gestured for her to come closer, a negligent gesture as his silver eyes fixed on hers. In any other circumstance, with any other man, she’d have laughed in his face, slapped him, even, but now … she complied. He made a turning motion with his hand and she wondered if he was giving her marks out of ten. She found she didn't care if he was. He sipped his drink, cool eyes taking her in, heating her skin further though he never moved to touch her. He set the glass down and crooked his finger ...

  ***

  "Are you alright?" Océane asked, looking at Claudette's pale face with concern.

  Claudette sat down in the chair beside her and shook her head. "No, not really. Actually, I think I might be coming down with something. I don't feel too good.” She shrugged, leaning back in the chair with a sigh. “It's been like it for a couple of days now." She put her hand to her forehead and closed her eyes. "I'm just so tired."

  "Have you told Corin?" Océane asked, frowning. Claudette was usually so vivacious and full of life, she didn’t like to see her so obviously worn out. Though after the past weeks of stress and terror, it was hardly surprising.

  "No." Claudette shook her head, giving Océane a rueful smile. "He's been so busy, and it doesn't last,” she said with a shrug as Océane looked at her with growing concern. “It seems to come and go, and it's not as if it has affected my appetite. In fact, I'm starving,” she admitted with a sigh. “I think ... I think it must just be the stress of the last few days. Maybe it's just put me out of sorts.” Claudette sniffed and Océane watched in alarm as her eyes filled with tears.

  "Oh, Claudie, whatever is the matter?"

  Claudette shook her head. "I have no idea!" she sobbed, wiping her eyes and trying to take a breath before anyone saw her in tears. "I … I keep crying for no reason,” she said, throwing her hands up in frustration. “I saw Varg defending Cerberus from some horrid dog earlier today and I thought it was so adorable I burst into tears! What the hell is wrong with me?" she demanded.

  Océane hurriedly composed her face into one that didn't look utterly horrified before Claudette could see that she knew exactly and precisely what the problem was.

  Corin was a dead man.

  "You know, Claudie,” she said, giving the young woman a reassuring smile. “I'm feeling really tired myself. Would you be an angel and come back to my room with me? I don't know where Laen is, he was worried Tully was in some sort of trouble, so I told him I'd be fine to sit here, but to be honest, I'd rather go somewhere quiet."

  "Oh, of course!" Claudette dried her eyes, looking appalled. “I’m so sorry, Océane. Here’s me babbling on, with you in your condition.” She looked at Océane’s stomach with obvious trepidation and Océane could only pity her. “I can’t imagine what it must be like,” she said, sounding torn between awe and terror. “And those dreadful women earlier telling you all those horrors about their birth stories. It was like every one of them was trying to outdo the other and frighten you as much as possible.”

  Océane gave her a slight smile, feeling sick and for once not because of her pregnancy. Laen had made a swift exit the moment the topic was raised, much to her and Claudette’s amusement. Océane had just rolled her eyes at Claudette when no one was looking, but now she wished the girl had escaped with Laen. Océane had taken the stories with a large pinch of salt, but if Claudette had any doubts whatsoever that she was not yet ready for a family, the gruesome tales the women had told her with such relish would certainly have convinced her. It was abundantly clear that a baby was the last thing Claudette wanted, but now she bore the king’s heir. Océane knew what that meant well enough. Wanted or not, Claudette was having a baby.

  Claudette accompanied Océane back to her room, trailed as always by their body guards back to the suite of rooms that Corin had given to them. Océane chattered away, trying as hard as she could to stop herself from telling Claudette why she was feeling the way she was. She well knew that Corin could see such things and felt sure he must already know. Just wait till she got her hands on him, she cursed. What on earth had he been thinking? She knew by now that pregnancy was something decided on by the men in the Fae races. They could choose whether or not a baby would be made or attempted, which was why any kind of contraception was unheard of. It simply wasn't required. She had understood and sympathised with Corin's longing for a child, and she had seen the same look in many people's eyes when they looked at her, such was the problem in these lands. She hoped that now the land was whole again, that the people would be, too, and that there would be many children, but if Corin had done this, against Claudette's will ...

  Océane was so wrap
ped in anger and her own thoughts that she did not see the figure of a man turn the corner ahead of her, and almost walked straight into him. She looked up, an apology at her lips when her eyes took in his face and the past fell away. Suddenly, she was swamped with memories of the man who had told her bedtime stories of dangerous faeries and a powerful elven king.

  "You!" she gasped, causing the guards to surround her, pushing the man back even as he held his hands out to her.

  "She's going to faint," he shouted. Happily, one of the guards took him at his word and caught her as her knees gave way, lowering her gently to the ground.

  Océane heard Claudette’s frantic cry for someone to fetch Laen, and succumbed to the peace of a dead faint.

  ***

  Laen pounded on the door of Devil’s suite of rooms, wishing to the gods Bram had heeded Corin’s advice earlier. Facing the duke was the last thing he wanted, and the last thing Corin needed, too.

  "Open the damn door, Ravendell,” he shouted, praying that they weren’t too late. It brought back memories of another night, and another prayer. His stomach turned as guilt ate at his heart. The guilt hit harder as the man himself opened the door wide; he was bare-chested, and Ameena clearly visible laid out on the couch behind him, all but naked.

  "It seems we have company, lover," he said to Ameena, his wicked eyes alight with pleasure as he turned to the three furious faces at the threshold. "Well, gentlemen,” he said, deliberately provocative. “Would you care to join me?"

  Laen grabbed hold of Bram by one arm as Corin grasped hold of the other, before he could lunge for Ravendell. "You bastard!" he snarled, thrashing against the them both. Laen could only sympathise as his own desire to kill the man flared back to life with startling intensity.

  Corin gave Bram a shake, forcing him to look at him and not Devil. "Go and fetch Ameena," he commanded, pushing Bram into the room. Bram ignored Corin and turned back, fury in every line of his body as he moved towards Devil with murder in his eyes. There was a flash of magic and he cried out as Corin forced him back again. "Ameena!" Corin shouted, his eyes a deep amber with the fury of his own anger.

  "Well, well,” Devil said, staring at Corin with that avaricious look that always turned Laen’s stomach. “Have you come to protect me?" Ravendell asked, an amused smile at his lips.

  Corin glared at him in disgust, the heat of his magic burning Laen’s skin as Corin fought to keep control. "You can't have this one,” Corin said, staring at him with loathing. “Go and find another toy to break."

  Devil tilted his head a little, considering. "Oh, but I want this one … She tastes divine." He stepped closer to Corin, licking his lips. “Unless you want to take her place?”

  Laen put a warning hand on Corin’s shoulder, knowing he was close to doing the man harm. “Hurry up, Bram,” he yelled, watching as the man ripped a curtain from the window and used it to cover Ameena with. His face was distraught and Laen swallowed, looking away.

  "Ameena?" Bram said, his voice soft and broken-hearted. Her eyes opened briefly and closed again.

  "Devil," she moaned.

  "He's drugged her!" Bram shouted, staring back at them with such distress that Laen felt the wave of Corin’s magic as he reacted to his friend’s anguish.

  "Of course he has," Laen said in disgust, keeping a close eye on Corin. They could not afford to harm the Duke of Ravendell, no matter how much he deserved it. The diplomatic repercussions would be horrendous. He was an incredibly powerful man.

  Devil shook his head, though his eyes never left Corin. “No. I did not,” he said, his voice curt as he stared at Corin. “You know I didn’t. She drugged herself. I didn’t force her, I gave her the choice.” He stepped closer to the king, lowering his voice. Even Laen could feel the power of it as it curled around Corin, smooth and seductive. Inviting. “I always give a choice." He reached out, touching Corin’s cheek with the back of one finger. "Don't I, my angel?"

  Magic flared again, and Laen sucked in a breath. It must have seared Devil’s fingers, but the man just laughed, his eyes growing darker. "Oh, yes,” he said, breathing harder. “Do it again, angel.”

  "Corin," Laen said, keeping his voice low and even. He knew just how much Corin wanted to kill the man in front of him, and how badly Devil wanted him to try so that he could retaliate.

  "Get the girl out of here," Corin said, his eyes fixed on Devil and burning with hatred.

  Bram was doing just that, and barely keeping his desire to murder the duke in check himself, if the look in his eyes was anything to go on. He paused, glaring at Devil, his face a mask of fury. "I will find a way to make you pay for this, no matter how long it takes."

  Ravendell snorted with amusement and made a shooing motion. "Yes, yes, you believe that, if it makes you feel better, but you know it was your fault she ended up with me.” He kept talking to Bram, though his eyes turned to Laen now, a cruel smile at his lips. “You were the one who ran away, not me."

  Laen took a step forward, but Corin put his arm out, holding him back now.

  "Go. Now." Corin's voice was cold, implacable, his eyes never leaving the duke's, and Laen nodded at Bram to go. They were both far too aware of the danger this man could present if he chose to be difficult. For now, he was playing with them, letting them take the girl, but Laen was well aware that Devil played a long game, and both he and Corin had very old scores to settle.

  "Such a bore," Devil murmured with a sigh as he watched Bram carry Ameena away. Those cold eyes turned back to Corin. "Now I shall have to find someone else to play with."

  Corin stepped close to him under Laen’s watchful gaze, gold eyes meeting silver. Magic flickered between them, the tension and the power increasing each second as their hatred became visible. The atmosphere felt as though it could ignite at any moment, and Laen held his breath.

  "Be very careful, Raven,” Corin said, using a name for the duke that Laen had not heard since they were boys. “I am watching you, very, very closely. Just give me a reason."

  Ravendell laughed, though it was a bitter sound. "Or what?” he demanded, his face suddenly stripped of its pleasant veneer. “Or you'll murder me like you did my brother, perhaps?"

  Laen swore under his breath.

  "I murdered no one!" Corin shouted, the blinding white light filling the room as he lost control of his magic and his temper all at once.

  "Liar!"

  Laen lunged forward, stepping between the two of them as the white heat felt like it would melt the flesh from his bones. He gave Devil a hard shove, pushing him backwards.

  "We leave now," he commanded, his hand wrapping around Corin’s arm as his friend stood rooted to the spot, rigid with anger.

  "Yes, yes, do run along now, angel." Devil sneered, his eyes dark with excitement as Laen felt his stomach roil. The bastard would get off on this kind of confrontation. "Let your petite chienne save you from me once more … why not?"

  "Corin. Now," Laen urged, knowing all too well what was coming. He needed to get Corin away from here now. He tugged at Corin’s arm, but he was immovable. "For the love of the gods, he's trying to provoke you,” he shouted, trying to get through. “You know he is!"

  Devil laughed, his eyes sliding from Laen’s with contempt to settle on Corin once more. "At least he's not too late this time," he whispered.

  Corin let go a blast of magic that flung the duke across the room and smashed him into the wall, but it was a bare second before Devil was composed and standing before them once more. He gripped each side of the door frame, leaning towards them, his muscular frame taut with the desire for violence, his face cold and hard and feral with hatred.

  Laen grasped hold of both Corin's arms and pulled him backwards. "We leave now.”

  “Goodnight, angel.” Devil’s mocking voice followed them as Laen turned Corin and propelled him down the corridor. “You know where I am if you want me.”

  They heard the door slam, but Laen kept moving. He could feel Corin’s desire to simply kill the
man, to tear him apart with nothing more than a thought.

  “He's lying,” Laen said, his voice hard and angry as he kept Corin moving. “We both know he's lying." Corin kept moving, though Laen doubted he was even aware of it until he stopped dead. He turned then and looked at Laen, and there was fear in his eyes.

  "Swear it to me. Swear to me he's lying. You promised me ..."

  "Of course he's lying!" Laen raged, putting both hands on Corin’s shoulders and staring into those golden eyes, holding his gaze and praying the man would believe him. "He's got in your head,” he growled, never dropping his gaze. “It's what he does. You know this. We both know this."

  Corin stared back at him and Laen waited, not daring to blink as his friend searched his eyes for any chink in his certainty, any flicker of doubt. Corin let out a breath and stepped back to lean against the wall as all of the terror and tension left him in a rush. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath in before he spoke again. "Yes,” he said, repeating the word though Laen knew it was to reassure himself. “Yes, I know."

  Corin's eyes opened and Laen let out a breath of his own, wishing he’d killed Devil at the time. But Devil had been ten years older and already far more powerful. He’d been afraid. The guilt of that had eaten away at him ever since. "It was such a long time ago,” he said, even though he knew it didn’t change anything. “Does it really bother you so much?"

  Corin didn't answer but pushed to his feet; he looked pale, his usually golden skin now pallid. He didn’t answer the question, but glanced up at Laen. "Would you excuse me,” he said, walking away at speed.

  “What’s wrong?” Laen called, hurrying after him. Corin burst through a door to his left, possibly a guest bedroom, but whose, Laen had no idea. “Corin? What are you doing?” he demanded.

  “I'm going to be sick."

  Chapter 38

  "Feel better?" Laen asked, giving Corin a look full of concern. Corin swallowed hard and nodded, reminding himself that Laen was being a good friend. Snapping at him because he was feeling on edge and full of the desire to kill something (or someone) was not fair. Thank the gods the bedroom had been unoccupied and the bathroom free.