by Amy Sumida
In that white dress, I looked the part of an avenging angel, if a little on the skinny side. He'd taken my wings and my burning sword—did all angels get burning swords?—but I was still going to find a way to smite his evil ass. I smoothed the silk and stepped out of the bathroom. The dress was a modest sheath more appropriate for summer, but Drostan hurried over to me with a cashmere cardigan and tried to help me into it. I took it from him and put it on myself.
“Shoes?” Drostan waved a hand toward a row of white shoes, ranging from ballet flats to fuck-me heels.
“Who are you, Jimmy Choo?” I huffed as I slipped my feet into the flats. “Where's breakfast?”
“This way, my love.” Drostan waved his hand toward the door as he smiled adoringly at me.
I rolled my eyes and strode out into the hallway. Drostan hurried past me to an open door on the left and motioned me in ahead of him. I swept past him like a queen, chin lifted as I surveyed the private dining room. A fire was burning in the hearth to one side and a picture window showed a winter wonderland—an expanse of white stretching to a snow-dusted forest. A round table for five was set with fine crystal, china, and real silverware as well as steaming platters of breakfast food. I glanced at the crystal chandelier directly above as I took a seat with my back to the fire so I could see the view and the door.
Drostan grinned broadly and shut the door before joining me. He took the seat to my left, his back to the door. “Coffee?”
He poured some coffee into his cup as he lifted a brow at me. I nodded, and Drostan moved the silver coffeepot over to my delicate teacup, filling it only two-thirds of the way so I could add cream and sugar. But he didn't let me add them myself. Instead, he spooned in sugar, then added cream in perfect amounts. The fucker knew how I took my coffee. It made me want to throw it in his face.
Drostan waved at the selection of food. “What would you like?”
“Bacon, sausage, eggs benedict, and hashbrowns,” I said. “Oh, and a biscuit with butter.”
His eyes widened. “You've got your appetite back. That's good.”
Oh, yeah, asshole. I'm power-eating so I can kick your ass. Bring on the protein and carbs.
Drostan set a plate before me and watched as I began to eat before he served himself. “Can we discuss a truce?”
“Sure,” I said with my mouth full. What the fuck did I care about manners with him?
“I won't drug you again if you won't attack me.”
“Just like that? You're just gonna stop?”
“I want you to get to know me and see that you can trust me,” he said eagerly. “I want to show you what I'm working on and tell you about my hopes for our future.”
“We don't have a future, Drostan,” I said grimly. “But if you stop drugging me and don't try to rape me again, I won't attack you. Unless, of course, you attack me first.”
“I didn't try to rape you,” Drostan snarled, his good mood vanishing in a second.
“Your Dark Kiss is a date-rape drug!” I hissed. “And your 'getting past my resistance' excuse is just another way of saying, 'She said no, but she meant yes.' In fact, it's not even that subtle. Resistance is just another word for fighting, which means that your drug was—”
“All right!” he cut me off. “I shouldn't have drugged you. I won't do it again. But Dark Kiss is more than a date-rape drug. It's a love-enhancer. The humans are adoring it.”
“You're selling it on the streets already?!”
“A more general version, but yes.”
“A more general version?”
“The drug I gave you was laced with my blood, so you would focus on me specifically,” he said casually, as if drugs were an acceptable tool for seduction.
Laced with his blood. Was that why I had been able to sense him? That awareness was gone now, but that could be because he had suppressed my magic.
“Is this how you get all your girlfriends?” I drawled. “You gotta drug them with Gancanagh magic to make them love you?”
“Ha-ha.” Drostan rolled his eyes. “That was an extraordinarily astute guess, by the way. I do use Gancanagh musk in Dark Kiss.”
“Gancanagh musk?” I made a disgusted face at him, then looked at my breakfast in dismay. “Well, at least it's not as gross as mucus.”
“It's harvested from the genitals,” Drostan said, dropping into a scientist's tone—a mad scientist. “There's magic in it, of course, but the musk itself is a fluid found in the preputial gland, just below the testicles of male Gancanaghs.”
I wanted to stop him, especially with the testicles talk, but I figured it would be better to learn as much as I could about his formulas.
Drostan glanced at my eggs and cut himself off. “Sorry, you probably don't want to hear about this while you eat.”
“So, you're a drug lord?” I asked casually.
He shrugged. “It's merely one hat I wear. I'm a scientist, first and foremost. Though I developed Newt by accident.”
“And humans are your lab rats?”
“I honestly thought they would enjoy Newt and that would be it.” Drostan grimaced. “But then they started dying.” He brightened. “But perhaps that was a good thing because it brought you to me.”
“Yes, only a few humans had to die, no big deal,” I drawled.
“Exactly!”
I gaped at him. “That was sarcasm, you pycho-fuck!”
“Oh,” he murmured. “Yes, well, I suppose you view humans differently than I do.”
“You mean because I am one?”
“You're only half one; less than that, really when you consider how much you changed when you entered Fairy.”
“You fucking racist, elitist asshole,” I hissed. “Going into Fairy didn't steal my humanity, it only awakened what was inside me. I'm still half-human and damn proud of it. Humans are not your fucking playthings! Fairies like you are why the Extinguishers were formed. You make me sick!”
“You misunderstand me, Seren. I think no more highly of fairies than I do of humans. Both races have their flaws. I would experiment on fairies if I still lived in Seelie and if such magic would work on the Fey. But I'm here and fey magic works best on humans. Therefore, I experiment on humans.”
“Oh, great, you're an equal opportunity murderer.”
“I'm not murdering anyone, I'm furthering science,” Drostan argued. “When I said our opinions differed, I meant because of how we were raised, not because you're human. I was raised to see that there are different classifications of life. Some people are more valuable than others. The humans I first experimented on were a boil on humanity's ass. I was doing Earth a favor by lancing it. It was only after I believed the formula to be safe that I had Verisande branch out. Unfortunately, I was wrong.”
“Wow,” I whispered. “Okay, so you're not racist, just an elitist psychopath.”
“People often mistake genius for cruelty or insanity.” He sighed deeply. “I'm hoping I can show you that there's more to this. That my work can unlock the power of joining magic with science. I thought you might be able to appreciate that, what with your father doing the same.”
“My father is nothing like you!” I hissed. “He doesn't murder people.”
“The deaths were an accident,” Drostan huffed. “Your father conducts drug trials, I'm sure.”
“If he does, they're legal and safe.”
“I conducted some safe trials too,” he insisted. “That's why I have the clinic. I had a medical staff on hand to deal with any issues.”
Wow, this guy was so loony-tunes it was hard to follow him. One moment he sounded like he was a narcissistic crime lord, the next, a normal researcher. He couldn't seem to settle on a story or a persona. And I realized that's what this was; Drostan was feeding me stories, trying to get me back on his side. Did he really think he could win me over with this bullshit?
I watched Drostan as he went on about his new version of Newt that didn't have any Alp Luachra goo in it. He'd made it deadly just to lure me back
to St. Louis, but now, the formula was safe again. Safe as in, humans wouldn't spontaneously combust after taking it, but he'd still be able to control them. And yes, he flat out told me that. He seemed to think it was proof of his love for me. One of those great lengths he referred to. As I listened, I decided to work with his insanity. I'd get as much out of him as possible before I killed him and escaped. I knew his minions would probably destroy all the research once they found Drostan's body, so anything I discovered now could be crucial to finding and helping the humans who were buying his drugs. I had to look at this as an undercover assignment.
I started to eat again, but I also paid close attention to every word the elitist psychopath said.
Keep talking, Drostan, I'm all ears.
Chapter Twenty-Three
I watched Drostan surreptitiously as he showed me around his lab. Daxon had a lab beneath our home in L.A. too, from back when he tinkered with things like magic bombs and stuff like that. You know, normal, fairy, crime lord shit. Daxon had been a bad boy once, but never as bad as this. Though, admittedly, the bombs were pretty bad. But the things Drostan was working on blew my damn mind. He was basically trying to find a use for every fairy magic in existence. Not the mórs of the Sidhe, but the magic of the other fey races. He may not be experimenting on them, but he'd need to find a way to harvest all of that fey magic. Which meant that the fairies of St. Louis were all in danger and that went double for the humans.
Drostan was excited to show me his work, his face twisting into expressions that made him look like someone else—something else. Eighteen days ago, I had thought this man was my friend, now I stood beside a monster. A monster who fancied himself in love with me.
“I know it seems wicked, but war is wicked, Seren,” Drostan said as he set down the asrai formula he'd been showing me.
Asrai were water fey who turned into water if exposed to sunlight. Drostan was trying to weaponize their magic, so that anyone hit with his potion—even just splashed with it—would turn to water in sunlight.
“We're not at war, Drostan,” I said firmly. “Who are you planning to fight?”
He shrugged. “The Councils if I must. Whoever tries to take you away from me.”
Wow, either I was just starting to see the depths of his obsession or he was getting worse.
“Where do you see this going?” I asked him.
We stood in a massive room on the same floor as the clinic. A few people worked at the numerous stations, looking just like employees at Gentry Tech, with their lab coats and protective eyeglasses. They were focused on their work, steadfastly ignoring us, but the sharp-faced men in suits who stood along the walls watched our every move. Drostan glanced at them.
“Let's go somewhere private,” Drostan suggested as he took my arm and wound it around his bicep.
I grimaced but let him lead me down the length of the lab and toward a door. When the men in suits moved to follow us, he waved them back. They didn't look happy about it, but they returned to their posts like good dogs. I couldn't help smirking at them, and one of them bared his teeth at me.
Oblivious of the exchange, Drostan took me upstairs to his private floor and into a sitting room done in butter yellow and somber blue. The furnishings were French antiques and the busts on their plinths were Greek. He led me to a loveseat from another era. I sighed as I sat down, knowing he'd chosen it so I'd have to sit pressed up against him.
As Drostan turned to face me and took my hand, I felt a little tingle. Not from him, from me. My magic was returning. I schooled my expression immediately. I had to bide my time until I was either somewhere I could easily escape or until twilight came. If Drostan forgot to dose me again, I could just twilight home. Oh, Anu, please help me.
“You asked where I see this going,” Drostan said gently. “I know you're mad right now and you hate me a little.”
I snorted.
He gave me a chiding look. “However, I'm confident that once you see how much I love you, what I'm willing to do for you, you will understand.”
“And then we'll live happily ever after?” I lifted a brow.
“I know you miss your children.” Drostan stroked my cheek, and I jerked away from his touch. His expression hardened, but he dropped his hand. “You will see them again, my love. I promise. I wouldn't take them from you.”
“No, only their fathers.”
“We can come to an arrangement, I'm sure.”
I gaped at Drostan. Holy shit, he really thought he was going to be a part of my family. “You think they'll allow you to be with me after what you've done?”
“If I hold the key to your continued existence, they will.”
“What?” I whispered, horror seeping upward from my gut.
“I'm working on a drug that will slowly weaken you until I give you the antidote,” he said with excitement. “That way, I'll be able to let you go without worry. You can visit your family and then return to me for the antidote.”
“Sweet Danu,” I murmured. “And you think I'll be happy living like that?”
“Not at first,” Drostan admitted. “But you will fall in love with me eventually and then the drug will become unnecessary. Or you might have our child first. In which case, I'll know you'll return for your son or daughter.”
I made a choking sound. “You think I'm going to have your baby?”
“I know you will.” Drostan grinned broadly. “Our child will be beautiful, Seren. I'll have a family at last, and you will have—” he cut himself off.
“I will have what?” I growled.
Oh, Goddess, there was that warm tingling again. The awareness of him. Of where he was. It was coming back with my magic, but it wasn't my magic. It was something new. What had this bastard done to me?
“We'll talk about this later.” He waved it away, then glanced out the window. “It's about time for your daily dose of Quell. Come along.” He stood up and held a hand out to me.
I grimaced as I took his hand. I could attack Drostan now and try to make it downstairs, through the gauntlet of his men. Or I could wait. I decided to wait. To be smart and careful since I might only get one chance to escape. I needed a chance to think and plan. As Drostan led me back down to his lab, I prayed that I wasn't making a huge mistake.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Two days later, I was contemplating giving up on waiting for the best opportunity and just fighting my way out of Drostan's compound. Drostan was consistent in administering Quell but every day my body got better at processing it and my magic came back a little sooner. Still, I was always in a less than optimal situation when it returned, and Drostan made sure to administer the dose long before twilight.
I slept in the madman's bed every night, spooning with him because he had threatened to tranquilize me if I didn't. Drostan thought he was being patient, and he deserved to at least hold me at night. I had to fight the urge to vomit or strangle him while trying to fall asleep. At least he only held me, never trying to do more, which made the cuddling worth it, I suppose. But I laid there every night, thinking about how Drostan had deceived us all, about how I had willingly cuddled with him because I'd thought he was suffering. I felt like such an idiot, my belly burning with the acid of betrayal and shame as I ran through everything he'd ever said to me in my head, searching for clues to his deception and feeling even worse when I found them. Just tormenting myself needlessly, but I couldn't seem to stop.
I read once that our bodies are programmed to dwell on bad things instead of good. It's one of those survival things, leftover from the time when doing something stupid could get you eaten by a lion. So when you're trying to go to sleep, your brain is like, “Hey, stupid, don't trust fairy men who say they're feeling the Call of Danu for you. Obviously, they're lying assholes. Didn't you see all the asshole hints? What's wrong with you? Aren't you supposed to be a fairy queen and an extinguisher? Yeah, great investigative skills there, Sherlock.” Etcetera. Ad nauseam.
Eventually, I'd fall asleep a
nd wake up to Drostan cradling me, usually staring at me like a creep. I learned to get out of bed without looking at him. We'd have breakfast, then he'd find something for us to do together. Cards, TV, testing evil drug formulas. You know, all the things couples like to do together. Currently, he was holding my hand while we sat on the roof, drinking hot chocolate in the snow. So romantic, right? Barf. The roof was the only outdoor space Drostan allowed me in. It had a seating area, a gazebo, and a grill. I liked it just for the fresh air, even if I had to bundle up in a fur coat to go up there.