“You should know that everything I did, I did because I thought it best for our people, and for our realm,” Teague said.
“Clearly the Hunt concurs with your assessment,” Albigard replied neutrally, still wrapped in his armor of chilly detachment.
Teague gave him a single nod in return, and addressed Len. “Human. It was you who unraveled the clues behind Dhuinne’s growing chaos.”
“Yes,” Len agreed, even though it hadn’t been phrased as a question.
The Fae looked like he was struggling with something that tasted bad, but he finally said, “Thank you.”
Len shrugged, and resisted the very natural urge to punch him in the face again. “Don’t mention it.”
Half an hour later, they were installed in a borrowed cottage near the edge of what seemed to be a residential district—based on what could be seen of it beyond the choking plant life, anyway. Most of the Forsaken had returned to their camp, but Danon and Nezri stayed behind with Len, Albigard, and the cat-sidhe to wait for the Court’s verdict.
The fact that the Hunt had remained in the Court chamber rather than following them made Len cautiously optimistic that the Fae ruling body would do the right thing in the end. Albigard had asked them whether they served Dhuinne or themselves. The truth was, those two options had just become more or less the same thing—failing to serve Dhuinne now brought immediate and deadly consequences.
If something like this had happened on Earth, Len might have been appalled. There were some big implications when it came to the concept of free will, for one thing. But under the current circumstances? He didn’t give one single, solitary fuck about it, as long as it meant the Court did what Len and the others wanted them to do.
He was done with living in this constant state of crisis. Done.
The twins took one look around the neat little faerie cottage where the five of them had been installed, and headed outside to hang out in the overgrown back yard instead. The sidhe also gave the place a quick onceover before promptly shifting into cat form, and curling up in a sunbeam.
Len took in Albigard’s brittle appearance with a measuring glance. There were only two interior doors inside the cottage. With a steadying hand on his lower back, Len urged Albigard toward the closest one, which thankfully opened onto a small bedroom containing a bed and a side table. He closed the door behind them. The Fae blinked at the room as though he’d never seen such a thing before. Concerned, Len lifted a hand to Albigard’s jaw and turned his head with a touch until their eyes met.
“Hey,” he said softly, not sure how close his companion was to a breakdown after watching his only remaining parent die, and then having to pretend not to care. “Your father... you can still mourn him, you know.”
Albigard’s eyes slid closed. The tension of maintaining control etched lines into his chiseled face. “Please don’t,” he whispered.
Len let his breath flow out slowly, and dropped his hand. “All right.” He looked around the room, and ended up sinking down to sit on the floor, using the side of the bed as a backrest. Sleep wasn’t in the cards yet, but he was undeniably wrecked. They both were.
After several long moments, Albigard sank down next to him with effortless Fae grace. Len reached into the space between them, offering his hand palm-up without looking over at his companion. Another pause, and Albigard took it. His skin was still icy cold with shock. Len tangled their fingers together and held firm, not commenting on the fine tremor he could feel thrumming through the contact.
They sat in silence like that for what Len thought was probably a couple of hours. Albigard flinched as a soft knock sounded at the door. Len gave his hand a final reassuring squeeze and clambered to his feet to see who it was. When he opened the door, however, it was to find a platter sitting on the floor outside. The large plate was piled with bread, cheese, cold meat, and something that looked like a bunch of grapes but probably wasn’t. Next to it stood what looked suspiciously like a dusty wine bottle.
Len picked up the items and brought them inside.
“I think the cat-sidhe is trying to feed us,” he said. “Is it still okay for me to eat and drink this?”
Albigard’s gaze remained distant and dazed, but he did at least meet Len’s eyes. “As I have told you repeatedly, you are already mine. No other Fae may claim you.” He paused. “Though you might want to go lightly with the mead.”
Len gave up trying to deny the surge of warmth that followed the words. It tightened something low in his gut—an unconscious response to a possessive Fae staking his claim.
“Good to know,” he said. “On both counts.”
He set the platter and bottle between them and started eating, giving Albigard pointed looks until the Fae reluctantly did the same. Predictably, it was the best damned food Len had ever eaten, and the mead should definitely have come with its own warning label.
Albigard accepted the bottle from Len and tipped it up, his pale throat working as he took a few swallows before lowering it.
“This is a similar vintage to the drink I used to trick the demonkin into a gift-bond, in the early days of our acquaintance,” he mused. “I fear I underestimated its effects on a metabolism that was, at the time, largely human.”
It took a moment for Len to realize he was talking about Zorah.
“You got Zorah drunk on faerie mead?” Len asked, the dull ache of speaking about her now overshadowed by the sharper ache of hesitant hope.
“It was... not an experience either of us would ever wish to repeat,” Albigard replied. “She gets very...” He trailed off, clearly searching for the right word and coming up blank.
“I can only imagine,” Len said, and waved the bottle away when Albigard offered it back to him. The stuff was spreading warmth all through Len’s body after only a few sips, and wasn’t bringing on the wash of black depression that usually made it easy for him to say no to booze.
Dangerous. Or... y’know... potentially awesome. But not when they were waiting for word on the Court’s decision, and Len might need his wits about him. Albigard set the bottle aside, probably for the same reason. They concentrated on the food instead, finishing it in fairly short order.
More time passed, and a new knock came—this time at the front door. Len exchanged a look with his companion and they both rose, entering the main room at the same time as Danon and Nezri, who must have heard the new arrival as well.
The cat-sidhe opened the door, revealing a Seelie in formal attire who gave a stiff nod and did not ask to enter. “Elder. I have been dispatched by the Court to inform you that decisions have been reached in the matters of the demon Nigellus, and relations with the group known as the Forsaken.”
“And what are those decisions?” the sidhe asked, when the messenger did not immediately continue.
“You may arrange for the demon’s admittance to Dhuinne, with a small retinue to transport the bodies of Ransley Thorpe and Zorah Bright,” the woman said in a wooden tone. “They will have the Court’s guarantee of safe passage to and from the gate to Earth. Additionally, a joint committee is to be commissioned. It will address issues related to the Forsaken. The Court has determined that the Forsaken may nominate their own members to form one-half of said committee.”
Len’s heart leapt.
“And how many more members of the Court succumbed to the Hunt during the negotiations?” the cat-sidhe asked, as casually as though they were discussing sports scores or the latest reality TV show.
“Three,” the Fae woman said stiffly. “Two from the Unseelie side, and one from the Seelie.”
“I imagine that would be highly motivational,” the cat-sidhe replied. “What of the question regarding the recall of the Unseelie operatives from the human realm?”
“Still under debate,” said the messenger. “It appears the discussion may stretch over multiple days.”
“Hmm. Brave of them,” the sidhe observed. “Very well. You may tell the Magistrate that I will see to the demon’s arrival
in short order. Please ensure that the guards and the warden of the gateway are informed.”
NINETEEN
THE MESSENGER gave another stiff bow and departed. When she was gone, the sidhe turned to Len, Albigard, and the twins. “It appears I have a task to complete. As there is no further cause for delay, I will depart now. Rest assured, I shall return as soon as possible and keep you informed of the details.”
Albigard took a deep, shuddering breath. “Thank you, Elder.”
The cat-sidhe gave him a quicksilver smile. “Remain strong for a little longer, Albigard of the Unseelie. All may yet come out as it should.”
With that, the sidhe transformed into a cat and trotted out the door. Len stepped forward and closed it behind them, feeling a bit numb.
The twins shared a look. Nezri turned to Albigard and spoke. “We should go to our people with this news. Will you be all right here alone? If you prefer, you are welcome to come with us.”
“Your offer is kind,” Albigard told her, “but the cat-sidhe will return here first when they have something to report.”
Danon shrugged. “As you like. Just so you know, the offer’s always open. We’ll be returning to the main camp in a couple of days, at a guess. So you know where to find us if you need us.”
Albigard managed a thin smile. “I would not presume to believe I could breach your wards so easily.”
“Pfft. They’ll be open to you, Unseelie,” Danon replied. His eyes flicked to Len. “And you as well, human. Couldn’t really have one without the other, after all.”
The spike of feeling that rose in response to that casual declaration took Len by surprise, tightening his throat.
“Thank you,” Albigard said.
“Yes. Thank you,” Len echoed faintly.
“Fair winds,” Nezri said. “Doubtless we will see you again in the course of things.”
She opened a portal, and the pair stepped through it. A moment later it snapped shut, and the silence grew very... complete. Len blinked a couple of times.
“Right,” he said slowly. “On a scale of one to ten, how likely is the world to end if we fall asleep for a bit? Because I get the impression we’re in something of a lull, at least temporarily.”
Albigard’s shoulders sagged. “I wouldn’t even care to speculate.” His tone was one of utter exhaustion.
“The cat-sidhe’s dealing with Nigellus,” Len reasoned. “The twins are dealing with the Forsaken. The Court’s still busy fighting over the Unseelie presence on Earth, and will be for quite a while. To me, that says there’s nothing left for us to do right now. Agreed?”
A pause, then, “... agreed.”
“Okay. Good. In that case, we’re sleeping. Come on.”
There was no lock on the inside of the front door—but there was a bar, so Len barred it. Albigard let himself be shepherded back to the bedroom. It was only mid-afternoon, but Len didn’t care.
He pushed the Fae onto the bed and followed him down. They were both fully clothed, and Len intended to stay that way in case someone else knocked on the door. The bed was narrow. Maybe that would have been a problem under different circumstances. Right now, it wasn’t.
Len pressed close and wrapped his arms around Albigard’s unresisting form. The Fae buried his face against Len’s shoulder, and five minutes later, he was asleep. Len followed soon after... the feeling of a living body next to him combining with the smell of sunshine and ozone to keep his nightmares at bay.
* * *
A hand on his shoulder woke Len to darkness, broken only by the glow from a small ball of magical illumination floating in the corner of the room.
“The cat-sidhe has returned,” Albigard told him.
Len grunted and tried to get his head on straight. He’d slept straight through the sound of the sidhe’s arrival, not to mention Albigard untangling himself and leaving the bed.
“I’m up,” he mumbled, needing two attempts before he managed to suit action to words.
God... forget sleeping for a week. Len was going to sleep for a freaking year when all this was over. The cottage was quiet as Len stumbled to the bedroom door and into the front room, where the sidhe was waiting as promised.
“The demon and his retinue will be arriving shortly,” said the shape-shifter. “I thought you might wish to be present to meet them at the gateway.”
“Yes,” Albigard replied. “Thank you.”
Len rubbed at his face. “When you say ‘retinue’...”
The cat-sidhe gave him a small smile. “I believe he was able to procure the assistance of two individuals with a degree of resistance to Dhuinne’s influence—another vampire, and a human with natural magic.”
His breath caught, his gaze flying to Albigard’s. “Guthrie and Vonnie. Will that be all right? Didn’t you say their presence here could cause problems?”
The sidhe replied with apparent unconcern. “The Court agreed to grant access to additional people to assist with the transport of the vampires’ bodies.”
“They did not specify who those people needed to be,” Albigard finished.
“Good enough for me,” Len said, still feeling only half awake. He ran his hands through his hair, knowing that he probably looked like a disheveled zombie and figuring that no one involved was likely to care. “Are we leaving now?”
“Yes,” the sidhe replied. “I want to be present upon their arrival, to prevent the possibility of misunderstandings.”
Len suppressed a shudder. “Good plan.”
“There is a sink with a hand pump,” Albigard said, “if you’d care to splash some water on your face first. And a privy behind the cottage.”
“Thank you,” Len told him in relief. “Give me, like, two minutes.”
He hurried off to take care of some basic needs, mildly amused by the fact that Albigard’s glowing magical nightlight followed him around like a helium balloon on a string. Len rejoined the others shortly—privied, washed, and rehydrated after his small adventure with Fae mead a few hours ago.
“Come,” the sidhe told them, and opened a portal.
Len followed the others through and found himself on an overgrown hillside lit by blazing torches. This had to be the hill next to the gateway between realms, though it had a totally different appearance at night—and when Len wasn’t busy being tackled by angry Fae guards.
The guards were still there, of course. They didn’t look much happier to see Albigard now than they had then. Fortunately, the presence of the cat-sidhe, combined with the edict from the Court, appeared to be enough to prevent a repeat of the events of their first visit.
The sidhe marched up to one of the Unseelie. Len was ninety-nine percent sure it was the same guy who’d punched Albigard in the teeth.
“Greetings, guardsman,” they said. “My companions and I will await the arrival of the demon and his retinue. You have received your instructions from the Court, I assume?”
“Yes, Elder,” the guardsman said grudgingly.
The cat-sidhe nodded in acknowledgement and returned to stand with Len and Albigard. They waited there, in something of a wary standoff, until the first hint of lavender tinted the horizon. Finally, a white glow appeared in mid-air. It widened into a spiral—following the shape of the carving in the wall of the Mound of the Hostages on Earth’s side of the gate.
The glow strengthened, becoming so bright Len had to look away. Afterimages danced behind his eyelids. When he managed to blink his vision clear, the white light was gone, and three figures stood among the windswept grass, illuminated by flickering torchlight.
No... not three figures. Five.
Nigellus and Guthrie Leonides stood side by side, each with a limp figure cradled in his arms. Vonnie stood on Guthrie’s other side, her fingers wrapped around her emerald pendant, a look of intense concentration on her pretty features.
Around them, the Fae guards grasped their weapons tightly, shoulders tense.
“Stand down, all of you,” said the leader, speaki
ng with clear reluctance.
Daeana—the Seelie warden of the gateway—stepped out, joining them. “The demon and his companions are guests of the Court,” she said, in a tone that brooked no opposition.
“Thank you, Warden,” Nigellus said, in his suave, resonant voice. “The Court’s cooperation in this matter is greatly appreciated.”
From the wry eyebrow she raised, Len didn’t get the impression that demonic charm was the way to Daeana’s heart.
“I will be accompanying you during your stay, Hellspawn,” she declared coolly. “I trust your visit to Dhuinne will be both brief and productive.” She turned her attention back to the leader of the Unseelie guards. “Take my post on the other side of the gate until Lianette arrives to relieve you.”
The leader gave a stiff bow and moved to obey his orders. With the tension at least somewhat abated, Vonnie hurried forward and enveloped Len in a hug. He closed his eyes and hugged her back tightly.
“You’re all right,” she breathed. “Both of you. And you did it!”
“We have done nothing as of yet,” Albigard said. “That duty will fall to Nigellus.”
Vonnie pulled back from Len and sent Albigard a watery smile. “No... you did your part, or we wouldn’t be here in the first place. I’m so glad you’re both safe.”
Daeana had watched the exchange neutrally, but now she lifted her chin, regarding Albigard. “No longer a prisoner, I see. You have been busy, son of Oren.”
Len flinched inwardly at the mention of Albigard’s father, but the Fae had once more donned his icy armor.
“Perhaps you would conduct us to a place where we may proceed with our guests’ purpose here, Warden,” was all he said in reply.
The faintest hint of a smile curled one corner of Daeana’s lips in the firelight. “Of course.”
The cat-sidhe gave Nigellus and the others an assessing look. Len’s attention fell on Guthrie, holding Zorah cradled against his broad chest. He frowned, distracted by the slowly expanding circle of blackened and dying grass around the vampire’s feet.
Forsaken Fae: The Complete Series, Books 1-3 (Last Vampire World) Page 49