Forsaken Fae: The Complete Series, Books 1-3 (Last Vampire World)

by Steffan, R. A.

  “You can’t go to Dhuinne, Len,” Vonnie said immediately. “The place drives humans mad.”

  “You went there.” He flung the words at her, meaning for them to hurt. That had been where she’d run off to without telling him, knowing all the time that it was ridiculously dangerous and she might die.

  “Yes,” she agreed readily. “I did. And I nearly lost my mind in the process. I would have, if not for my magic.”

  “That is unlikely to be a problem for a necromancer.” Albigard spoke grudgingly, not meeting Len’s eyes. “Just as the darkness of a vampire’s aura protects them from Dhuinne’s effects, so would the darkness surrounding one who attracts dead animus.”

  Vonnie frowned at him, and then at Len. Her eyes grew distant, as though she were staring straight through his skull. Her hand lifted to the emerald pendant she wore, cradling it between her fingers as she concentrated.

  “Oh,” she said after a moment. “Your aura, it’s...” She blinked, coming back to herself and glancing at Guthrie. “It’s like yours, Leo. Only more compact, and... denser, I guess you’d say?”

  “Dense is definitely one adjective,” Guthrie muttered.

  She shook her head briskly and focused on Len again. “You still shouldn’t go. It’s too dangerous.”

  Len shoved away from the table and stood up, his chair legs screeching across the floor as his precarious emotions got the better of him. “That didn’t stop you, now did it?”

  Vonnie’s eyes pleaded for his understanding. “Len, it was my son. I had to go, if it meant finding out where he’d been taken.”

  “And this is our planet,” he shot back, still irrationally furious with the entire situation. “Why is that so hard to understand? You weren’t in St. Louis when it destroyed my neighborhood. You didn’t see what it did to the pocket realm. It’s going to kill everything!”

  Stillness settled over the room for a beat.

  “I cannot ask you to accompany me,” Albigard said into the silence, his voice and manner quiet in the face of Len’s outburst. “Nor can I guarantee your survival... much less your safety. But your offer of assistance is an honorable one, and... I humbly accept it.”

  Len stared at him, his chest rising and falling on harsh breaths.

  “Blue—” Vonnie began, in a tone of entreaty.

  But he shook his head. “Here’s the part you’re not getting, Red. If I stay here, I’ll die anyway. So will you. So will Guthrie. We’re all going to die if we can’t fix this. And... maybe I’m the one who can help stop all of it from happening.”

  Guthrie had been watching the exchange silently. At that, he spoke up. “Nigellus has a human contact in County Meath, near the gate leading to Dhuinne—a double agent, I guess you’d call him. I’ve got his phone number. I’ll see if I can arrange something so you won’t just be going in cold.”

  Albigard nodded tightly. “It’s conceivable that the Seelie Court would be amenable to receiving me under a temporary stay of execution, given the circumstances. If they will agree to a formal hearing, perhaps I can state my case in a way that adequately conveys the gravity of the situation.”

  A strange sort of relief settled over Len’s shoulders, because while this wasn’t the outcome Len had wanted... maybe it was something that wouldn’t end up drowning him in guilt and regret afterward. Something he could live with.

  More likely, it would end up being something he could die with.

  Still, the thing that really got to him these days was the prospect of standing off to the side while other people sacrificed their lives trying to save the world. Anything was better than that. He closed his eyes and tried to let the tension flow out of his body.

  “Okay,” he said. “I guess we’re doing this, huh? Let me know when everything’s set up for us to leave. Oh... and if I’m going to be traveling to the magical land of faerie assholes, someone’s going to need to buy me a new pair of shoes first.”

  SEVENTEEN

  AS IT HAPPENED, Guthrie’s bottomless pockets meant that Len ended up with all new clothing to replace the battered sweats and hoodie—not just a new pair of Doc Martens. Since the vampire’s bank account wouldn’t notice the difference, and since Len figured that if he was marching off to his potential doom, he might as well look good while doing it, he’d splurged on black designer jeans, along with a high-necked, sleeveless commandant vest with wide leather buckles across the front and military-style metal bars on the shoulders.

  He’d also scored a cheap pair of electric trimmers, which he’d used to buzz the sides of his head where the hair had grown long enough to get bristly. He was in the bathroom, teasing his fringe into something that looked as belligerent as he currently felt when Guthrie knocked on the doorframe and stuck his head in.

  “Time to go,” his ex-boss told him.

  Len stared at his reflection in the mirror—tattoos on full display, armor in place, jaw set. “Right,” he said. His gaze moved to the vampire darkening the doorway. “Not gonna try and talk me out of this, Gramps?”

  Guthrie shook his head. “No point. For one thing, there’s the planet to consider. If you can control this thing, the Fae will need your help. And for another, I’ve known you for a while now, son. You’ve got a habit of jumping into harm’s way to protect other people.”

  Len scowled at him, aware that when it came to getting knifed by Kat’s ex-boyfriend, he was never going to live it down. “It was one time.”

  “Three times, that I know of personally,” Guthrie shot back. “Anyway, just try to come back to us afterward—and drag Albigard along with you, if you can.” He hesitated. “Though that last part might be a tall order, under the circumstances.”

  “You’re not kidding,” Len said, wondering how the hell he was supposed to get the Fae through to the other side of this mess.

  He followed Guthrie downstairs, only to nearly trip on the last step as Albigard stepped into view. Evidently, Len hadn’t been the only one who displaced anxiety by attempting to look like as much of a badass as possible. Though... badass maybe wasn’t the word. Black leather armor and a sword? That was badass. This was...

  Something else.

  Albigard wore his haughtiness like a cloak. His platinum hair was plaited in intricate braids that snaked along his temples before spilling open into long, unconstrained waves down his back. A small emerald earring glinted in the lobe of his right ear.

  He was wearing a high-necked tunic in green silk brocade a few shades darker than his eyes. The garment laced up the front, its mandarin collar baring a few tantalizing inches of skin in the deep vee above the top set of grommets. The bottom was cut in a swallowtail style, tailored to his waist in front and swooping down to knee-length tails in back. Improbably tight trousers in soft black leather disappeared into tall black boots polished to a high shine, completing the ensemble.

  Len blinked, managing to jerk himself free of his momentary paralysis before he tripped over his own feet and faceplanted on the main floor landing.

  “Didn’t know I was supposed to be dressing for Rivendell,” he said, trying to play it off. “Warn a guy next time.”

  Albigard, too, seemed to be staring—but at Len’s jab, he raised a pointed eyebrow in a clear expression of disdain. “No doubt you will be the first blue-haired human ever to darken Dhuinne’s gateway,” he said.

  It had been two days since their return from the pocket realm, and the Fae appeared to be completely recovered from his weakness. By contrast, Len still found exhaustion dogging him at odd moments, but it wasn’t insurmountable. He could push through it when he needed to.

  Vonnie appeared next, carrying a pair of backpacks. She handed one to Guthrie and gave Len a fretful look. “We could come with you as backup,” she blurted. “I can manage in Dhuinne for a little while before it starts to get to me.”

  Len stared at her, affection and frustration welling up in equal measure. “Vonnie, you’ve got a kid. That’s where you need to be.”

  She drew a
breath, but couldn’t seem to find words—the same frustration evident in her expression.

  “Your presence in Dhuinne would be inflammatory rather than useful,” Albigard said. “After aiding my escape during your previous visit, the Court will consider you criminals, just as I am.”

  “We’ll at least go with you as far as County Meath,” Guthrie informed them. “It’s on our way anyway.”

  The Fae gave a reluctant nod. “Yes. However, you must not return to the Isle of Skye immediately afterward. Wait a day or two to ensure that no traces of me cling to you. While it’s unlikely the Hunt could track you on Earth, I will not risk having it follow you to the children’s location.”

  “We’ll wait for a bit,” Vonnie said, very quietly.

  “And in the meantime, we’ll see if Nigellus can make any headway with some kind of special diplomatic immunity to visit Dhuinne once the Hunt is contained,” Guthrie added. “Because make no mistake—I do intend to get my granddaughter and her asshole of a boyfriend back.”

  Albigard inclined his head. “I shall do everything in my power to ensure that outcome.”

  “We both will,” Len said firmly, burying his natural skepticism. It was true he might not have much faith that they’d succeed... but he would damn well commit to trying.

  “Come, then,” Albigard commanded, and opened up a reassuringly normal-looking portal bounded by flickering orange flames.

  The other side opened onto a cracked and overgrown parking lot. In front of them, nature was busily taking over a mid-century hospital building, its acid-streaked brutalist architecture half-covered in climbing ivy as the forest encroached greedily from all sides.

  Vonnie blew out a breath. “Never thought I’d see this place again.”

  Len turned a slow circle, taking everything in. “This is where we’ll find the ... ley line?”

  “It is,” Albigard replied, and headed for the crumbling stone steps leading up to the front entrance.

  It still pained Len’s scientifically minded soul to say things like ‘ley line’ aloud—though he was aware of the irony, given what his life had become recently. As it had been explained to him, while Albigard was technically powerful enough to summon a portal leading all the way to Ireland, doing so would drain him unnecessarily. It was much easier for Fae to travel along the network of ley lines that covered the globe like a giant spiderweb. The ley lines linked sites both ancient and modern scattered around the world, where humans had been drawn to build structures on top of the invisible highways of magical flow.

  Stonehenge, Machu Picchu, the Taj Mahal, St. Peter’s Basilica, the Great Pyramids... even this old hospital, apparently. All of them were built along ley lines. As, of course, was the Mound of the Hostages—a Neolithic underground tomb located in the Tara-Skryne valley in County Meath, Ireland; the hidden site of the only gateway leading between Earth and Dhuinne.

  Len followed the others inside the creepy old building. Mold and rot was eating away at it from the inside, even as the elements chipped away at the outside. Albigard moved confidently through the skeleton of the hospital, leading them to a questionable looking stairwell going down.

  “I hate to say this,” Len quipped, peering into the unreassuring blackness, “but I think it might be safer to take the elevator.”

  Guthrie produced a flashlight from his backpack for the benefit of the humans. “Trust me,” he said. “It really wouldn’t be.” He led the way into the unseen depths with a protective hand cupped beneath Vonnie’s elbow.

  “Fucking dark stairwells,” she grumbled, in the tone of someone who had ample reason to be skeptical of such things.

  Albigard followed them without comment, his steps light and sure. Len brought up the rear, testing each tread before committing his weight to it. They made it to the bottom without incident. The hospital’s basement was a vast, echoing space that smelled heavily of mildew. Aside from Guthrie’s flashlight, the only light came from narrow windows at the tops of the walls, which must have been positioned just above ground level outside.

  It was sufficient to illuminate the concrete support columns and cracked floor. The Fae moved to an area where the concrete had been torn up, revealing dark brown earth beneath. Vonnie and Guthrie stepped onto the patch of bare dirt without hesitating, so Len followed suit. He watched with interest as Albigard crouched down, pressing his palm flat against the soil. The Fae murmured words Len didn’t recognize, and light flared outward from the point of contact, engulfing the four of them in a blinding flash.

  Len wavered on his feet, unmoored. If travel by portal felt like stepping off a ledge and having no idea how far below the ground beneath you might lie, travel along the ley lines felt like being pulled through a series of subway tunnels at high speeds without benefit of an actual subway train. He staggered backward a step when the light receded, revealing a church cemetery.

  With a start, Len realized that his left foot had landed squarely on top of a grave, and he took a hasty step away.

  The old church next to the graveyard straddled the line between quaintly picturesque and creepy as hell. In the daylight, the former aspect held dominance. At night, Len could imagine local children daring each other to climb the fence and running away five minutes later, screaming.

  A crooked wooden bench sat at the edge of the cemetery. A thin figure, wearing heavier clothing than the weather really called for, unfolded from the rickety seat, drawing Len’s attention and holding it.

  “Cillian,” Guthrie said. “Thanks for agreeing to meet with us.”

  Guthrie and Vonnie’s contact was a skinny, nervous man with darting eyes, who immediately set Len’s teeth on edge. His gaze skittered over each of them before settling on Albigard in his Fae finery and widening. He immediately jerked his attention down to his own feet, his already rounded shoulders hunching further inward.

  Len stared at him, vaguely fascinated, yet simultaneously repulsed. If this man was truly a double agent for Nigellus, he sure as hell wasn’t maintaining his cover by presenting a cool, James Bond-like exterior.

  Cillian flicked a quick glance up at Guthrie and spoke in a brogue far more impenetrable than Albigard’s light accent. “You two should not have come back here. Not after last time.”

  “Don’t worry,” Guthrie told him dryly. “We’re not going any farther than this. Also, we’re returning the prisoner we freed on our last trip, so it seems like that should count for something.”

  Cillian shot another fleeting glance toward Albigard, looking for all the world like he was having to consciously stop himself from groveling at the Fae’s feet.

  “I suppose so...” he said uncertainly.

  “Has the Court consented to hear what he has to say if he agrees to turn himself in?” Guthrie pressed.

  “They have,” Cillian said after a pause. “Reluctantly.”

  “Reluctant is fine, as long as they listen to him,” Guthrie told him, and Len envied his confidence.

  “What about the human?” Cillian asked, his blue eyes sliding over Len again without sticking. “Is he another adept like this one?” His nervous fingers flickered in Vonnie’s direction.

  “He is my vassal,” Albigard stated in a tone that did not invite debate. “In addition, he has powers that may be useful in controlling the Wild Hunt.”

  Cillian shuddered at the mention of their murderous nemesis. “But... can he withstand Dhuinne’s magic?”

  “Of course,” Albigard said dismissively. “I should hardly have brought him here otherwise.”

  Len managed to contain the eyeroll that wanted to escape, having already been warned that the only way Len would be accepted into the Fae realm was as Albigard’s spare magical battery. He’d asked at the time whether he should expect every Fae within smelling range to sniff out the stench of necromancy and immediately demand his head on a stake.

  You smell of nothing but sweat and cheap soap now, Albigard had told him. Without the presence of your specters, the aura of death will be u
ndetectable beneath all but the most careful magical examination.

  When Len had pointed out that his lack of specters also made him pretty useless as Hunt-repellent, Albigard’s expression had gone impenetrable. We shall have to address that once we arrive in Dhuinne, he’d said, and absolutely nothing about those words was reassuring.

  “Is there an escort waiting at the gate?” Albigard asked, not making much effort to cover his contempt for the cowering human.

  “Y-yes.” Cillian swallowed audibly and licked his lips. “As you know, lord—if the vassal is unable to make his own way past the protections, he will not be welcome in the Fae realm.”

  “I am aware, thank you.” The words could have stripped paint.

  Len turned slowly to face him. “What kind of protections are we talking about here, exactly?”

  It was Vonnie who answered. “There’s a sort of... magical storm surrounding the Mound of the Hostages, for lack of a better term. Practical upshot—it makes people standing outside the invisible boundary not want to get any closer. Vampires can force their way through, because their auras protect them to a degree. I managed to get through it by spinning my own magical vortex to keep the Fae spell from touching me. But most humans can’t overcome the compulsion to stay away.”

  Len blinked at her. “Okay, then.” He turned a pointedly raised eyebrow on Albigard. “You might have mentioned that.”

  “It will not be an issue,” said the Fae. “Come.”

  But Vonnie wasn’t quite done yet. “Len... you can still back out of this.”

  Len shook his head in mild frustration. He closed the distance between them to give her a brief hug. “No I can’t, Red. Go be with Jace, and try to get something set up with Nigellus. Stay out of the line of fire if you can. Hopefully I’ll see you again soon.”

  Vonnie squeezed him tightly in return. When she pulled away, she looked like she had more she wanted to say, but she rolled her lower lip between her teeth and visibly held it back.

  “Good luck, Blue,” she said instead, before turning to Albigard. “You too, Tinkerbell.” She rummaged in her pack and pulled out a couple of foil-wrapped energy bars, thrusting them at Len. “Oh, and take these. They might come in handy.”