by Alyssa Day
Merelith had to be High Court Fae, maybe even on the royal council, and suddenly Rio wanted nothing more than to crawl under the kitchen counter and hide until the woman left. Naturally, this made her lift her chin and plant her butt more firmly on the seat of the chair.
“You have word of my niece?”
Luke stared at the Fae. “How do you do that?”
Merelith stalked toward them and then stopped about six paces away from Rio. She lifted her head and actually sniffed the air, and then her perfectly shaped head abruptly turned, and she locked that searing gaze on Rio.
“You? You!” Merelith flashed across the room so fast that Rio couldn’t even think about running before the Fae was standing in front of her, invading the hell out of her personal space.
Merelith caught Rio’s jaw in an unbreakable grip and turned her face one way and then the other. “It is you,” she whispered. “How is it possible—but you must be nearly twenty-five years old now, then.”
The Fae’s perfume—or her natural scent—made Rio think of crushed ice over salted raspberries, and then immediately wonder why. The rich aroma deepened when Merelith leaned even closer and touched Rio’s locket with one long, slender finger.
“So, you haven’t lost this? How . . . deliciously surprising.”
Rio jerked away from the woman’s touch, her hand rising to cover her locket. “What do you know about my necklace?”
Luke made a deep snarling sound, low in his throat. “You can’t trust anything the Fae tell you, Rio. Ever.”
“But they can’t lie,” Rio protested. “Even I know that.”
Luke never took his eyes off the Fae. “Get away from her. Now. Or you will have made an enemy that even you don’t want to make.”
Merelith smiled mockingly, but she stepped back.
“Fear not, little wizard. I won’t hurt your companion. But if you think to make her your bedmate, be advised that your chances of living past the dawn are slim.”
Rio’s face got hot. “Maybe you should back off, Merelith. You may be from the High Court, but that gives you no right to make rude comments about me and my, ah, my—”
Luke moved around the kitchen counter and put himself between Rio and the Fae. His fingers were glowing with blue flame again, and his voice had gone hard and icy.
“Back away from her, Merelith, or you’ll be sitting on your ass in the alley before you can say another word.”
Rio’s mouth fell open as she stared at Luke’s taut, muscular back. He was protecting her from a High Court Fae. An overwhelming urge to touch him—in support or plea, she didn’t know which—had her reaching out with one hand until common sense caught up with longing, and she yanked her hand back.
Merelith laughed, the sound like ice cubes falling into a crystal glass. “I don’t want to hurt her, Lucian Olivieri. I am merely interested in the dynamic of why she would turn up now, in light of current circumstances. The Fates are amusing, are they not?”
Rio pushed Luke out of the way as she awkwardly stepped down off the stool. “I’m a little tired of being talked about like I’m not right here. What are you talking about, and how did you know how old I am?” She looked into the Fae’s glowing eyes and swallowed. Hard.
“Please?”
Merelith swept a scathing glance over Rio from head to toe and back up again before she answered. “I expected you’d be taller,” said the nearly six-foot-tall Fae.
“Why did you expect anything about Rio at all?” Luke sounded mystified, but he was still holding flames at his fingertips.
“Rio? Is that what you’re calling yourself?” Merelith tilted her head, considering. “It’s actually rather fitting, since you almost drowned in that river, I suppose.”
Dread rushed through Rio, starting in the back of her head and pushing heat through nerves and muscles. The river . . . the Fae’s words turned a switch in Rio’s mind that almost—almost—unlocked a tantalizing clue about a memory from her childhood. Something—anything—from the lost years before the nuns had taken her into their sanctuary.
Curiosity raced to the forefront; caution pushed it back. “Your niece?” Rio finally said, choosing the path of the least terrifying unknown.
The child. They needed to find the child. Mysteries about Rio’s past could wait.
Merelith paused and then inclined her head, a regal gesture of agreement. Rio didn’t want to know what it looked like when Merelith disagreed with someone, but she had the feeling it involved pain. Lots of pain.
Luke leaned back against the counter, still between Rio and the Fae, and he finally allowed the flames at his fingertips to disappear. Then he casually put a hand on Rio’s shoulder, while not taking his eyes off Merelith.
“You should sit back down and take weight off that ankle,” he said quietly.
Merelith made an impatient sound and held up one slim, white hand. “Is that what’s making her grimace like a stuck pig? Why didn’t you say so?”
Rio narrowed her eyes. “I do not look like a pig, you—”
The band of icy cold that wrapped around her ankle caught her off guard, and she fell back onto the chair, staring at her foot. Within seconds, the icy feeling vanished, and so did the pain. Rio cautiously twisted her foot from side to side, and then she stood up.
“It’s healed,” she said softly. “You—thank you, Lady Merelith.”
“Apparently cessation of pain helps you remember your manners, if not your good sense, Halfling,” Merelith said dryly. “Now sit and stop annoying me while Luke and I discuss how to find my niece. You are not the imminent problem.”
Luke frowned at Rio. “How long have you lived in Bordertown that you don’t know better than to thank a Fae?”
Rio’s mouth fell open, and for a moment she was too stunned to decide which one of them was ticking her off more. She decided to deal with Luke later, since Merelith was the clearer threat. She was pretty sure Luke would never hurt her; she had no such illusions about any one of the Fae.
“Halfling? No, never mind. You’re right, the little girl is more important,” Rio said. “Does your missing niece look almost exactly like you, or at least like you if you were ten years old and human?”
Luke and Merelith’s eyes widened simultaneously.
“Did Luke tell you that or did you see her?” The Fae pushed forward again, as if to grab Rio, but Luke’s arm dropped down like a barrier barring the way.
“Back off, and we may find out what she knows,” he warned Merelith.
“She will tell me, or she will die screaming,” the Fae countered, her eyes glittering.
“There’s no need for all this drama,” Rio said. “I came to Luke for help finding this little girl. If she’s your niece, I’m more than happy to help you in any way I can.”
She quickly described the events of the day to Merelith, who grew more and more agitated.
“That’s her. It must be her. If this monster who stole her is Dalriata, I will tear his bones from their sockets and snack on their marrow,” the Fae shouted, her lovely face twisting into something inhumanly dark and dreadful.
Rio’s stomach shriveled up into a cold, hard ball as Merelith’s rage and magic washed over her in an icy wave.
“Dalriata?” Luke shook his head. “The name doesn’t ring a bell.”
“He recently arrived from Europe,” Merelith said, as she began to pace back and forth in the space between the heavy wooden dining table and the kitchen counters where Rio and Luke stood. “Rumor has it that he’s a Pictish king. He has failed to present himself at court to announce his intent, thus we believe it is foul.”
“Why would he want your niece? And aren’t the Picts a small race? The man I saw was nearly as tall as Luke.” Rio thought about it for a minute. “He probably wasn’t your guy, though. The evil villains usually have minions.”
Luke laughed, and even his laugh was sexy. It was decidedly unfair to Rio’s equilibrium.
Merelith’s gaze suddenly snapped to Rio as if
she were a pet dog who’d performed an interesting trick, and Rio blushed, wondering if Merelith had read her thoughts on her face.
“Picts have intermarried so often since the old days that their height is no longer a defining characteristic,” Luke said, apparently unaware of the entire interplay between the women in the room.
Merelith pinned Rio with a sharp stare. “Ah. Smarter than you look. Why would he want Elisabeth is the pertinent question. She is half human and will never have claim to the Winter’s Edge throne. She has little if any discernible magic and plays no part in politics. The abduction makes no sense.”
Rio tried not to show how appalled she was at the cold assessment of a child’s possible value as a kidnapper’s victim. The Fae were not an outwardly emotional bunch, though; the fact that Merelith was willing to hire Luke to find Elisabeth probably said more about her true feelings for the girl than anything else.
“He wanted her for some kind of ritual,” Rio said. “Something dark—Old Magic. Are you sure she doesn’t have any magical abilities that would make her a target for this?”
Merelith rounded on her and all but pounced. “How would you know what he wanted her for?”
“She heard his thoughts,” Luke said, before Rio could think of a response.
“Or she heard what he intended for her to hear,” Merelith said bitingly. “It is no small matter to deceive a person with a trifling talent for mind reading.”
Rio clamped her jaw shut. Yelling at Luke that he had no business telling the Fae any of hers wouldn’t help, and Merelith would only be ruder if she knew her barbs were affecting Rio in any way.
Merelith’s expression changed subtly. Her eyes widened just the tiniest bit, but the emotion fell away from the rest of her face. “And can you read my thoughts?”
Rio held up her hands, shaking her head. “No. I can’t read High Court Fae thoughts, or those of most demons, or Luke’s, for that matter. It is, as you pointed out, a trifling talent. And I only got glimpses of what the kidnapper was thinking, but he has bad plans for the girl and, whether she’s your niece or not, we need to find her. He was thinking moonrise, so she’s safe for a while now, but we don’t have time to spare.”
Luke suddenly yanked one of the bar stools closer to him and collapsed onto it. “I’m glad we have a little time because our plans may need to wait until I get some rest. That venom isn’t completely out of my system.”
Merelith raised an eyebrow, and Rio explained.
“I cannot help you with the aftereffects of Grendel venom. You may rest for five hours, and then I expect you to continue to pursue your contacts and find my niece,” the Fae said, turning to leave. “I have ordered every member of my court over whom I have any influence at all to search. Between us, we will find her.”
“We’ll find her,” Rio said, as much to convince herself as to reassure Merelith.
The icy blonde whirled around, her hair floating as if she stood in the middle of a gale-force wind. “But I have already found you, so that is an interesting development, is it not?”
Before Rio could reply, Merelith had gone, the door slamming shut behind her.
Rio shook her head. “She’s not really the delicate flower that you expect of a High Court lady, is she?”
Luke laughed, but the sound was brief and underscored with pain and exhaustion. “Definitely not. Rio, I think I’m going to need your help to make it to bed.”
She glanced at him. “From anybody else, I’d think that was a line. You know that, right?”
Luke’s eyes flashed hot. “Give me a chance, later. You might be surprised.”
Choosing not to examine that too closely, Rio put her arm around his waist and together they slowly made their way down the hall to the first room on the right. She told herself that he probably didn’t even notice taking her hand, or the electric charge that jumped from his skin to hers.
She noticed enough for both of them.
“At least you’re not limping,” he said from between clenched teeth. “Who says the Fae are inbred, good-for-nothing pains in the ass?”
Rio laughed a little. “She healed my ankle completely.”
“Better that you hadn’t said thank you, though,” Luke muttered. “Who knows what she’ll feel entitled to now?”
“I’ve done my fair share of tough negotiations in my life, Luke. I was raised by nuns,” Rio said grimly.
Luke grinned, probably thinking she was kidding. Ha. If he only knew. Nuns could be scary. Especially in Bordertown.
Rio had an impression of rich colors and clean lines in the shadowed darkness of Luke’s bedroom, and then he was pitching forward onto his pillows, still clasping her hand tightly in his.
“Luke?” Rio tried to extricate her fingers, but he had her in an iron grip.
“Stay with me? Please?” he whispered. “We’re going to find Elisabeth. I promise you. But now I need to keep you safe. Need—”
She waited, but the end of the sentence never came. Whatever else he needed would have to wait until he woke up. His hold on her hand loosened a little, but not by much. It didn’t take long for Rio to consider her options and decide on the only one that made any sense.
She climbed up on the bed and curled up next to Luke, wondering at the direction her life had taken. Not quite twenty-four hours earlier, she’d woken up alone in her apartment, ready for another mundane day of delivering other people’s news. In that short space of time, she’d witnessed an abduction, staved off an attack by Grendels, demanded help from the Dark Wizard of Bordertown, and confronted a High Court Fae.
No matter what happened to her next, she could never again claim that she spent her life standing on the outside of other people’s lives and adventures. Now she just had to decide whether that was a good thing.
Luke stretched in his sleep, still holding her hand, and then rolled onto his side, pulling her against him. Every nerve ending in her body lit up like the blue flames that had danced along his fingertips earlier, and it took several minutes of listening to Luke’s slow, even breaths for her to relax. As her own exhaustion pulled her down into sleep, Rio smiled a little. Good, bad, who cared? At least this time it was her life that was interesting.
“Eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow we confront a Pict king over a Fae child,” she murmured. “Oh, Rio, what have you gotten yourself into?”
Luke, wrapped around her in a soundly sleeping embrace of heat and muscle, didn’t answer, so Rio let go of all her worries for just a little while and fell asleep in the arms of the most dangerous man in Bordertown.
Funny, how it felt so very right.
CHAPTER 5
Luke woke up like he usually did—all at once, gasping for air like a drowning man breaking the surface of the ocean after going under twice. But this time, something was different. The terror was muted, and it quickly receded to a manageable thrum just under the surface of his skin. As if whatever horror had haunted his sleep for hundreds of years was confused . . . or had been defeated.
Defeated by the almost-human woman sleeping in his arms.
He resisted the urge to touch Rio’s silken hair, knowing that the slightest movement might wake her, and she’d probably jump away from him the second her eyes opened. So, instead, he stole the moment from her, luxuriating in the feel of her softness against his body and pretending she belonged there.
Next to him.
He’d followed her for a while, back when she’d invited him for coffee. After he’d instinctively recoiled from the certainty that here, finally, was a woman who would breach his defenses. He’d built those defenses carefully, damn it. Brick by brick, decade by decade—all spent avoiding entanglement with anyone he might care enough about to risk activating the curse. Killing someone in a jealousy-driven rage would certainly do it, and he’d wondered exactly what he would do to protect a woman like Rio.
Or, more to the point, what wouldn’t he do?
He’d learned on the third evening of stalking her nights
just how bad it could have become. A man had accosted Rio at the Roadhouse, and if Miro hadn’t intervened when he had, Luke might have burned down the entire building and everyone in it. He owed the big ogre for more than Miro knew. But now—now Luke had Rio in his arms, exactly where he’d sworn she’d never be, and he knew, deep, deep in his soul, that he had no intention of ever letting her go. It didn’t make sense, but after centuries of living under the threat of a curse, he’d learned that nothing that mattered ever seemed to make sense at first. It just was.
Her courage in the face of everything she’d had to face the night before, her sense of humor—oh, yeah. Life was about to get very interesting.
“You’re smiling again,” Rio said, startling him.
“Hey. I was just about to wake you—” he began, but he let the lie fade away when she flashed an amused grin.
“No, you weren’t. You’ve been—” Rio’s amber-flecked eyes widened, and she abruptly moved away from him and sat up. “We—you—I was exhausted, and you wouldn’t let go of my hand, so I—”
He fought his instincts and won, letting her go. “Yeah. Sorry about that. Exhaustion and Grendel venom is a bad mix. I’m back to normal now.”
She stepped lightly off the bed, looking around almost frantically. “Um—”
“Through there,” he said, pointing to the bathroom door and then watching while she fled.
She could face down Grendels and a Fae princess, but pillow talk scared her. Even as it made him grin, he had to admit to himself that he was pretty much the same. Flirting, romance, and tenderness—what did he know of any of those? Not enough to attract Rio, certainly.
Not enough to attract a woman who’d been living on a deserted island for five years, either, probably.
He threw off both his self-imposed melancholy and the blanket she must have draped over him and stood up and stretched. His balance was restored, and he didn’t feel any aftereffects from the venom, thankfully. So now it was time to go find that little girl.