Dark Kiss: A Reverse Harem Fairy Romance (The Twilight Court Book 12)

by Amy Sumida

  “Uh, yeah. Sorry.” I cleared my throat. “Have you made any progress with the blood samples from the Newt victims?”

  “That depends on how you measure progress.”

  “We have more dead humans in St. Louis,” I growled, looking away from Drostan as irritation overtook anxiety. “It's Newt without the Alp Luachra mucus and it's burning people to death.”

  “I see,” Dylan said thoughtfully. “In that case, no, I have nothing that can help you.”

  “Damn. I was hoping for an antidote,” I whispered. “Okay.”

  “An antidote can't be made without an exact formula to work with. Send me some samples from the newest victims. Maybe I can get something from them.”

  “Thank you, Uncle Dylan,” I said sincerely. “I appreciate it.”

  “Of course,” he said gruffly. “And be careful, Seren. If someone is making more Newt, it means that you didn't catch all the criminals last time.”

  “I realize that.”

  “Don't trust anyone, Niece,” Dylan said grimly, sending a shiver down my spine.

  “I'll be careful,” I promised.

  “I'll call you when I get anything.”

  “Okay. Goodbye.”

  Dylan hung up without bothering to say goodbye.

  “Nothing?” Drostan asked me.

  “No, but he wants me to send him some samples from the new victims.” I tapped my cellphone against my thigh. “I'd better get back out there.”

  “Seren.” Drostan caught my hand as I tried to walk past him. “Can we talk?”

  “Of course,” I said, but I also pulled my hand away.

  His hand clenched into a fist but his voice was gentle when he asked, “Did you speak to Danu?”

  “She wouldn't answer me,” I admitted.

  Drostan blinked. “Is that normal?”

  “No.” I chewed at my lip, then said, “Drostan, I haven't felt any . . . anxiety over being apart from you. If this were the Call, I would have.”

  “Well, I've felt it,” he growled. “It's killing me to stand here in front of you and not touch you. Can't you . . . can I hug you at least?”

  “Drostan, that's not a good idea.”

  “Please, Seren. It's just a hug.”

  “Aw, hell,” I muttered and stepped forward.

  Drostan was holding me in a moment, his chest solid beneath my cheek and his heart beating rapidly. He sighed and crumpled around me.

  Then the door opened, and I pushed away from Drostan guiltily. But I wasn't fast enough.

  A blue blur passed me, launching into Drostan. I backed up in shock as Daxon lifted Drostan by his throat and shoved him into the bookshelves that lined one wall. The books trembled and a figurine of some forgotten human goddess crashed to the floor.

  “Daxon!” I shouted and grabbed my husband's arm. “He just wanted a hug. That was it!”

  “That was not it!” Daxon snarled as he kept his stare locked on Drostan's.

  Even hanging by Daxon's hand, Drostan managed to look confident. He had a grip on Daxon's wrist and his eyes were starting to glow with magic. “Don't make me defend myself,” he choked out.

  “Daxon, drop him!” Killian shouted as he came running into the room. “This isn't the way, man.”

  “I walked in on him holding our wife,” Daxon growled.

  Extinguishers and hunters filled the hallway, waiting to see if they'd be needed. Or perhaps just enjoying the show.

  “We've got this, thanks.” I shut the door on them, then went back to Dax. “Put him down, Daxon, please.”

  “Try it, Dealan,” Daxon urged. “Let the lightning loose, and I will tear you apart with your own fears.”

  “Stop it!” I'd had enough.

  I slammed my forearm down on Daxon's wrist, breaking his hold. Drostan went tumbling to the floor, but quickly regained his feet. He shook out his shoulders and held his arms out to his sides, preparing to defend himself. Daxon snarled at him.

  I stepped between the men before Daxon reached for Drostan again. “Daxon, it was just a hug. He's been without me a few months and it's taken a toll on him. He asked if he could hug me, and I agreed.”

  “Sure. That's what he told you.” Daxon flicked his gaze to me before setting it back on Drostan.

  “Fuck, dude, it was a hug. It's not like you caught them kissing,” Killian huffed.

  “It was just the start,” Daxon said as he finally straightened. “I'm watching you, Baron. Keep your fucking distance from my wife or I will finish what I started here.”

  “Our goddess has called us together,” Drostan growled back. “You can't keep me away from Seren.”

  “Only you believe that.” Daxon pointed a finger in Drostan's face. “Until you can prove it, stay away from her.”

  “Drostan, I need you to respect my marriage vows,” I said calmly. “If not, we'll have to stay in a hotel.”

  Drostan's expression went panicked. “No!” But then he collected himself and went calm. “I won't touch you without permission, Seren. I promise. I didn't do so now, did I? Don't go.”

  I lifted a brow at Daxon.

  “We'll stay for now,” he said crisply, turned on his heel, and left the room.

  “I'm sorry,” I whispered to Drostan before I followed Dax out.

  “Me too,” Drostan whispered.

  “A hug is nothing,” Killian said to Drostan as he sauntered after me. “But if I catch you trying to seduce my wife, Dax will be the least of your worries. I will literally bite your fucking head off.”

  I groaned as I headed back to the operations room to tell everyone about my conversation with Dylan and organize the delivery of some blood samples. Hopefully, it wouldn't be too awkward after that caveman show Daxon had put on. I vowed to myself that I wouldn't go anywhere in Drostan's home alone except for the bathroom.

  Chapter Seven

  We called it a night several hours later. We were all exhausted, and it got to the point where people were falling asleep on the floor. Ainsley and Ennis were bunking in the guest house with the extinguishers, Conri and Gradh got a guest room down the hall from mine in the main house, and Felix got the room next door to them, even though there was plenty of room in the guest house. My guards liked to have at least a few of them as close to me as possible at all times. The hunters were from the local house, so they went home for the night. My husbands and I were given our old guest rooms, Daxon sleeping with me since it had been his visit that was interrupted. Not that he got anything but some cuddling before we both passed out.

  In the morning, I woke disoriented and cold. I had kicked off my covers in the middle of the night, and I squinted as I sat up, facing the bright light streaming in through the window. Then it came back to me—where I was and why I'd kicked off the blankets. I was in Drostan's home again, and just being there had unnerved me so much that I'd had a nightmare.

  “Seren?” Daxon sat up behind me and stroked my back.

  “I'm fine.” I leaned over to kiss his cheek. “I just had a bad dream.”

  “About what?”

  “The Sluagh, I think.” I scowled as I remembered it. “Monsters with claws and horns, laughing at me. Flying through the sky. And a voice calling to me.”

  Daxon grimaced. “He's going to be fine, sweetheart.”

  “Huh?” I frowned at him. “Who?”

  “Caelum,” he said, widening his eyes at me pointedly.

  “Oh!” I laughed. “I didn't even think about that. Of course.” Relief washed over me. The nightmare had felt real, as if it were more important than a normal dream. Knowing that it had stemmed from fear for my son and his blossoming magic made it feel less ominous. “It makes sense now.”

  “Nightmares feed on the things lurking in the back of your mind,” Daxon said gently as he slipped out of bed and headed for the bathroom. “Bring them into the light, and they lose their power over you.”

  Dax would know all about that. I smiled after him, then my gaze caught on the view through the wind
ow. I yipped and ran to the glass.

  “What?!” Daxon ran back out, naked.

  “It's snowing!” I exclaimed.

  He relaxed and chuckled as he joined me at the window, coming up behind me to wrap his arms around my waist and lay his chin on my shoulder. I nuzzled back against him and sighed. Neither of us got to see snow all that often, what with the castles of Fairy in tropical zones and Dax living in Los Angeles. And when we did see snow, it was usually on a bleak mountaintop, no fun at all. To be able to stand there, behind glass, all warm and cozy while we watched snowflakes softly drift down, was a rare luxury.

  A strident knocking came at our door, startling both of us, and then Killian shouted, “It's snowing!”

  “We know,” Daxon called back.

  Kill took that as an invitation and came in. Daxon's nudity didn't surprise or bother him; he'd seen it all before. Kill merely shut the door behind him and hurried over to us. Dax stepped to my right so Killian could kiss me good morning and take my left hand. Then he settled in to watch with us. Kill had lived in Alaska for most of his life, so he wasn't a stranger to snow but that also meant that he loved it in a way that Daxon and I didn't. Some of Kill's fondest childhood memories involved the stuff.

  “I wish Rowan was here,” Killian whispered. “I'd love to play with her in the snow.” Then he sang the snowman line from Frozen.

  “Seriously?” Daxon grimaced at him.

  “As if your TV isn't constantly playing cartoons,” Killian countered.

  “Fair enough,” Dax muttered.

  “We can take Rowan to see your mom sometime soon,” I suggested to Kill.

  Kill's face lit up, his vibrant, green, snake eyes practically glowing. “I'd like that. Mom would really like that.”

  “We should take a family vacation,” Daxon said. “I think all the kids would enjoy some time in the snow. It would be good for them to know that life isn't all sunshine and rainbows, sometimes it's cold and bleak, but there's beauty in that too.”

  “Wow, that was pretty,” Killian drawled. “You should embroider that shit on a pillow.”

  Daxon glanced at Killian and a sharp blast of air formed between Kill and me, pushing Kill's head to the side as if someone had slapped him. Killian only laughed. In his mind, Daxon using magic against him meant that he had nothing to say back. Score one for Killian.

  “Thank you both for ruining the moment,” I grumbled and headed into the bathroom, shutting the door behind me.

  “Seren!” Daxon growled. “I was about to take a shower!”

  “You should have thought of that before you acted like a child,” I called back, then turned the water on.

  “Next time, use your words,” Killian taunted Dax.

  A thump came through the door, along with Killian's yelp.

  “Actions speak louder,” Daxon said dryly and with great satisfaction.

  Chapter Eight

  Ana had a buffet breakfast set up on the kitchen counter when we got downstairs, including an industrial-sized coffee pot. I headed straight for the coffee before I checked out the food.

  “They're in the gazebo,” Ana told us.

  “Thank you and thanks for breakfast,” I said as I filled my plate.

  “They” ended up being Drostan, Conri, and Gradh. They were sitting on the couches spread around the glass house, plates on their laps and coffee cups on the rug, near their feet, as they talked and watched the snow falling around them. The snow on the ground outside reflected the sunlight and came through the glass panels, making me squint at first.

  “I see why you chose this instead of the dining room,” I murmured as Daxon, Killian, and I stepped into the bright space.

  It was more of a conservatory than a gazebo, though there weren't the prerequisite plethora of plants, just a few potted ferns on plinths.

  “It's pretty, huh?” Conri asked as he craned his neck to watch the snowflakes falling on the roof.

  “You're such a poet,” Gradh said dryly.

  “I don't have to be a poet. I have other talents.” Conri smirked.

  “Gee, that sounds familiar.” Daxon glanced at Killian.

  I chuckled as I sat down on one of the new couches. Unlike the other rooms, the gazebo had been completely redone and now looked even more Victorian, with delicate couches, Persian rugs, and those ferns I mentioned. He'd even replaced the rug. Yeah, that was definitely about Verisande.

  “How's business?” I asked Drostan.

  “Fine,” he said absently. Then he sobered. “Thank you for getting her body to me. It helped to be able to bury her.”

  Everyone went still. Drostan didn't have to say her name; we all knew he was talking about Verisande. It was hard to not be bitter about the woman who had killed so many people and who would have killed and subjugated many more, myself included. But I hadn't made sure her body was returned to him out of respect for her; I'd done it for Drostan. He deserved to mourn her properly.

  “You're welcome,” I said gently. “It was the least we could do.”

  “I don't understand how her research could have gotten into the hands of another fairy,” Drostan whispered as he set his plate on the floor. “As far as I know, she didn't . . .” he trailed off and sighed. “But then, I didn't really know her, did I?”

  “She loved you,” I said firmly. “She came back for you. That means it wasn't all a lie; there was something real between you.”

  Drostan stared at me, a strange expression coming over his face. It was intense enough that Killian cleared his throat. Drostan flinched at the sound and looked away.

  “So, you don't know of any of her friends or associates who might have had access to her research?” Daxon asked stiffly.

  “No. She didn't tell me about any friends, and I never met any associates. Both of us were always so busy, that it never occurred to me to ask.” Drostan sipped his coffee, then stared off at his snow-covered yard as he murmured, “She wasn't who I thought she was.”

  “I'd say we could look further into the humans she hired to help her, but I doubt that would lead anywhere,” I said as I picked at my breakfast pastry.

  “Well, aren't you all just a barrel of laughs,” Wayne declared as he entered the gazebo through the door that opened onto the balcony.

  Behind Wayne were the extinguishers and Ainsley. Felix and Ennis were probably on patrol outside.

  Drostan instantly pasted on a smile. “Good morning, Wayne. Breakfast is in the kitchen.”

  “Thank you, Drostan,” Wayne said with a warmth that implied a budding friendship.

  “It's been quiet all night, Princess,” Ainsley said to me as he passed by.

  “Good. After you get some food, tell Felix and Ennis to come inside and eat breakfast.”

  “Yes, Your Highness.”

  “You can eat in the dining room,” Drostan called after them. Then he looked at me and shrugged. “There's not much room out here.”

  “I'd like to go outside a bit before we get back to work,” I said as I laid my plate aside and concentrated on my coffee.

  “I'd be happy to give you a tour of the grounds,” Drostan offered eagerly.

  “We'll make do,” Daxon said crisply as he stood up and offered me his hand.

  “I just want to step out onto the balcony and catch some snowflakes,” I said to Drostan as I stood. “I haven't seen a lot of snow. I was raised in San Francisco, and all of my current homes are in temperate climates.”

  “Yes, of course. Take your time,” Drostan murmured and looked away.

  “You can come with us, dude.” Killian smacked Drostan's shoulder as he followed Dax and me outside.

  Daxon glared at Kill.

  “It was just a hug,” Killian said under his breath.

  “Thank you, but no. I'm not a fan of the cold,” Drostan said. “You three enjoy yourselves.”

  “You're not a fan of the cold but you live in Missouri?” I heard Conri ask.

  Drostan's reply was cut off as Killian closed the
door.

  I moved down the balcony and leaned my forearms on the railing. When Daxon brought his gaze back to me after glaring at Killian, he found me glaring at him.

  Daxon sighed before saying, “Sweetheart, I'm telling you, that man is dangerous.”

  “Not to us, he isn't,” I insisted.