Then, the driver’s door opened, and a blond figure stepped out.
“Seriously... what?” Len asked, with a bit more feeling behind it this time.
“I replaced your car,” Albigard said, walking up to the concrete steps leading to the porch. “Even though it was not a very good car.”
“You... replaced my car,” Len echoed stupidly.
Albigard’s brow furrowed. “It seemed important to you.” He cleared his throat and continued, “I’m afraid the body shop was unable to replicate the pattern of rust. They also refused to replicate the bullet holes, so I had to do those myself. I trust my memory of the pattern was accurate.”
Len stared at him. Then he sat down rather abruptly on the top step and started to laugh. Even to his own ears, it sounded pretty far on the wrong side of hysterical.
The Fae peered at him quizzically. “Are you... well?”
Len got himself under control with difficulty. “Did you deposit fifty thousand dollars in my bank account last week?” he asked.
“No,” Albigard said. “That sounds like something one of the bloodsuckers would do.”
Something in Len’s chest unknotted. “Well, it wasn’t Rans.” he paused then, as realization struck. “Oh. It was probably Guthrie. He has access to my banking information from when I worked for him. Right.”
“For what it’s worth, I’d imagine he can afford it,” Albigard offered. “And you did help to save his granddaughter’s soul from the Endless Void.”
Len waved the words away. “I’ll tell him to take it back next time I talk to him. Never mind.” He hauled himself to his feet and descended until he was standing on the lowest step, face to face with the Fae. Something seemed... different about him, and it took Len a moment to realize he was back in his ‘don’t mind me, I’m just a normal human’ guise, with his faunlike ears and gracefully swept eyebrows glamoured to be round and boring. “You didn’t have to replace the pimpmobile, you know,” he added.
Albigard shrugged. “No. I did not have to. But it seemed like the correct thing to do. Is the vehicle acceptable?”
With a deep breath, Len forced himself to ignore the Fae’s magnetic pull. He walked barefoot and shirtless to the driveway, where he did a full three-sixty around the shiny Lincoln, trailing his fingertips over the flawless paintjob.
“I love it,” he said, brushing a thumb over the topmost bullet hole... which was situated a bit too far to the left. “Thank you.”
“You are most welcome.” Albigard drew breath to say more, but hesitated uncharacteristically.
“What is it?” Len asked.
The Fae raised his chin. “I have... a proposal, I suppose you might say. I know Dhuinne holds danger for you as a necromancer, even now. However, I have been spending more time among the Forsaken since we parted. They do not fear your powers. Indeed, Leesa asks after you often. I thought... perhaps...”
“The answer is yes,” Len told him, not even stopping to think about it.
Albigard frowned. “You do not know what I was going to ask.”
“Yes, I’ll come with you to Dhuinne, with the understanding that I do also have a life on Earth, and will want to come back here periodically,” Len clarified. “Anyway, you already knew that, or you wouldn’t have bothered with the car.”
“Oh,” Albigard said.
“Do you have to go back right away? It’ll take me a few days to arrange everything and let my friends know what’s going on.”
“I will need to travel to Dhuinne for a meeting of the new liaison committee tomorrow, but returning here afterward will not be a problem.”
Len raised an eyebrow. “You ended up taking the job, then.”
One corner of Albigard’s lips turned up. “I did, yes. I was informed by someone who knew me well that it would suit me.”
“And does it?” Len asked, feeling fairly confident of the answer.
“So far, certainly.”
An answering smile tugged at Len’s mouth. “Come inside,” he said. “I’ll make breakfast. Not Pop-Tarts, I promise.”
Albigard’s green eyes shone. “That sounds... most agreeable.”
Len led him into the house, his chest feeling as light as air.
EPILOGUE
THE SOUNDS OF daily life in the camp of the Forsaken formed a comforting background murmur, as Len hovered over a steaming cauldron near the back of the cave. He ladled a small amount of stew into the bowl he was holding and handed it to Leesa, who blew on it for a moment before taking a sip.
“It’s good,” she said. “The salt tastes right, but I think it would be better with more ground tsaina-bark. It’s a bit bland right now.”
“We can do that,” Len agreed, and went rummaging through the collection of clay containers on the shelf near the cooking fire. Leesa smirked and shook her head when he picked up the first jar and showed it to her, but nodded in confirmation at his second guess.
“You’re starting to get it, I think,” she teased.
“Well, if you insist on labeling the containers in an alphabet I can’t read,” he shot back.
“I could teach you,” Leesa said with a smile. “If you’re going to spend time here, you should at least know how to read and write.” A frown wrinkled her smooth brow, and she ruffled a hand through her freshly dyed blue hair. It matched Len’s, after he’d brought along a box of his preferred brand and showed her how to use it. “I don’t know if you can learn to speak properly, though,” she continued. “I’m not sure how to do it since Dhuinne is already translating for you.”
“I think my best bet on that front is to stay on Dhuinne’s good side,” he told her.
She snickered. “I’d say so, yes.”
Len added more of the powdery brown seasoning to the cauldron, which was large enough to feed the entire camp. This time, Leesa made an impressed face after tasting it. “Now that’s good.”
Len tried a bit as well. He still found it difficult to judge nuance, since all Fae food tasted amazing to his run-of-the-mill human palate. The flavor profile seemed decent, though, with a hint of spicy heat and a rich depth of umami.
“If you’re happy, I’m happy,” he said, and swung the cauldron away from the fire to cool for a bit.
Leesa’s answering smile was brilliant. “You really are, aren’t you? I’m glad you came back.”
The airy lightness that spilled through Len’s chest at random moments still had the capacity to take him by surprise. He breathed through it for a few seconds before he could trust his voice.
“So am I,” he said.
A small commotion arose outside the cave. “They’re back!” someone called.
Len’s attention moved to the cave entrance as though drawn by a magnet, and a few moments later he was rewarded by the entrance of a small group with Albigard at its center.
Albigard’s gaze swept the cavern until it came to rest on Len, and their eyes locked. The little swoop in Len’s stomach would never get old; nor would the softening of Albigard’s expression whenever Len caught the Fae looking at him.
Several members of the camp approached the group, asking questions and dispensing the day’s news. The twins fielded most of the chatter, until Danon boomed, “Food first. Then talk. We’ve got news as well, but we might as well share it with everyone at once, rather than piecemeal.”
“Stew’s ready!” Leesa piped up from her position at Len’s side. “Bring your bowls and let’s eat!”
The Forsaken didn’t need to be told twice, and soon the two of them were ladling out portions to a line of hungry camp members. Albigard appeared at Len’s shoulder, his braided hair gleaming in the firelight.
“Cutting the line?” Len asked. “For shame.”
Albigard raised a tolerant eyebrow. “Nonsense. I wouldn’t dare.” He paused while Len served up another portion, then continued. “The Court has come to a decision on the matter of the Unseelie on Earth at last,” he said. “You will not like it. However, I believe it does represent
a step forward, at the very least.”
Len sighed. The Court had been dragging its feet on the issue. That fact alone had been something of a red flag. “Do I need to go yell at them some more? Not that it’s likely to make much more of an impact than it did last time.”
“In due course, perhaps,” Albigard allowed. “For now, I think it would be best to allow the current changes time to settle. As I said, it is still progress of an incremental sort.”
Len got the last few people served, and went to find a comfortable spot to sit. Albigard lowered himself to sit next to him, content to leave the speaking to the twins and Aesulna.
After a rundown of the day’s business in the new committee, Nezri met Len’s eyes. “While it is not Forsaken business directly, the Court has finally ruled on the Unseelie presence in the human realm. In order to rebalance Dhuinne’s magic, they have decreed that half of the Unseelie wardens on Earth will be recalled, and replaced with Seelie. The Seelie will take over their duties to prevent what they call unnecessary disruption.”
Len’s heart sank.
“In the current climate,” Albigard murmured in his ear, “I would place more trust in Seelie wardens to rule from behind the scenes with empathy and thoughtfulness.”
So would Len, but that didn’t mean he was happy about the prospect of continued Fae control of Earth.
“It is what it is,” he managed. “Like you said, baby steps.” At least it would probably succeed in fixing Dhuinne’s magic. Already, the imbalance was improving after the Wild Hunt had been absorbed into Chaima. Life had returned quickly to the area around the Forsaken camp, but the vines no longer made a daily all-out assault on the cave entrance and walking paths. Presumably, these additional changes would finally return things to whatever constituted normal in a world inhabited by magical faeries.
He shook off the political setback with a determined air, and gave Albigard a thorough onceover. “You look beat,” he observed.
Albigard raised one shoulder in a careless shrug. “Not fatigued, so much as tired of listening to politicians prattle endlessly. I suppose it comes with the job.”
Len smiled at him. “Maybe it does... when you’re in the city,” he said, and lifted a hand to cup the Fae’s chin, brushing a thumb across his lower lip before letting him go. “But here, your role is entirely different. Or had you forgotten, princeling?”
Albigard’s eyes darkened in the flickering light. “How could I forget, with you to remind me?”
“Mmm,” Len agreed. “Give me a few hours to set some things up. Come find me by the hot springs... erm, what time does the moon rise tonight?”
“About an hour before midnight,” Albigard replied.
“Come find me when the moon rises, then.” Len finished his stew, and left the Fae to wonder what, exactly, he was in for.
* * *
Hours later, when Albigard entered the grotto housing the hot springs, Len was waiting for him on a pile of furs and blankets that he’d dragged down from the collection kept on the carved stone shelf at the top of the trail. He’d taken off his shirt—mostly because it was hot next to the steaming pools—but was still wearing his jeans, along with the thong necklace Leesa had made for him, with Albigard’s faded cotton hair tie braided into the weave.
Nearby lay coils of rope, a knife sharp enough to cut that rope, a clay jar of oil, and a rubber ball attached to a leather strap that he’d tossed into his bag on a whim when he’d been packing to leave for Dhuinne.
A few other Fae were lounging in the pools, including one pair who were clearly having sex—the woman straddling her partner’s lap beneath the water as they rocked together. Len had spoken quietly to several people over the course of the evening, ensuring that he wasn’t about to shatter any unspoken Forsaken taboos. He’d come away further reassured that no one here cared how or with whom you had sex, as long as everyone involved was adult and there of their own free will.
Furthermore, they were well aware that some of their members preferred the illusion of non-consent—not a real shock given the kind of screwed-up psychological warfare that mainstream Fae society foisted on their queer children and adolescents. Bottom line, the Forsaken were cool with kinks like Albigard’s, as long as no one got hurt or emotionally traumatized. Len was relieved to discover this... not to mention a little bit intrigued by the possibilities it opened up. Indeed, he intended to play with those possibilities to some small extent tonight, assuming Albigard consented.
The Fae in question approached Len cautiously. “The moon is up; I am here, as summoned.”
Len smiled up at him, not rising. “And wearing far too many clothes. Strip, please.”
Albigard lifted his chin, playing at defiance.
Len gestured at the little dagger lying nearby. “Or, I mean, I could always tie you up first and cut them off you. It seems wasteful, though.”
The Fae gave him the barest hint of an eye-roll, and Len had to hide a smile. He did start stripping efficiently, though—mission accomplished. When he was bare, his pale hair hanging free and his tattoos twisting in the flickering light cast by the hundreds of sprites that inhabited the grotto, Len pointed to the edge of the furs on which he was reclining.
“Kneel there,” he said. “We need to have one of those discussions you don’t see the point of.”
“Witness my surprise,” Albigard replied in a dry tone, even as he lowered himself gracefully to his knees where Len had indicated.
“Cheeky,” Len retorted. “Anyway, real talk. If you agree to it, some people might show up tonight while you’re nominally helpless, and interact with us. I’ll be the only one to physically touch you, though—even if they imply other people might. Does that appeal at all?”
Albigard’s brows drew together. “This place continues to surprise me day after day.”
“Not really an answer, princeling,” Len pointed out.
The Fae took a deep breath. “I find the idea both intriguing and disquieting. But I believe the intrigue outweighs the disquiet.”
“Fair enough,” Len told him. “The moment that changes, signal me and I’ll make them go away. That’s always the deal, as you hopefully know by now.”
The faintest hint of amusement washed across Albigard’s features. “You do seem insistent on driving the point home repeatedly.”
“What can I say? It’s how I roll,” Len said. “Which leads to the next point. Can you cast a ball of illumination even if you’re distracted, or restrained? Or both?”
“Yes,” the Fae replied.
Len nodded. “All right. Tonight, that’s your signal if you can’t speak to say yellow or red. One sparkly magic ball for ‘slow down,’ two sparkly magic balls for ‘stop.’ Will that work?”
Albigard still looked faintly amused. “As well as anything.”
“And it’s preferable to you simply blasting me off my feet with no warning,” Len shot back. He sat up and reached for a coil of rope. “Now, with that out of the way, I cannot express how long I’ve been waiting to see you tied up in my bondage instead of someone else’s.”
Albigard watched with interest and a hint of heat as Len started measuring out hanks of rope.
“I’m going to start with your arms and upper body,” he said, talking Albigard through it as he began a diamond pattern for the chest harness and integrated rope columns on both arms to bind them in a crossed position in front of him, pharaoh-style. The tie was intricate, but not overly complex, and took him about twenty minutes to complete.
By the time Len was done, his dick was pressing uncomfortably against the zipper of his jeans, made worse by the fact that he’d chosen to go commando for ease of access when the time came. He stepped back, taking in the picture.
“How’s that feel?” he asked.
“Confining,” Albigard replied.
“Hmm. Almost as though that’s the point,” Len told him. “The others are looking at you, you know. Probably wondering what I’m going to do to you now that I’ve
bound you.”
A tiny shiver went through Albigard’s body. “And what are you going to do to me?”
“Use you for my pleasure, of course,” Len said. “That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?” He paused, giving his captive a considering look. “Honestly, you’re not nearly helpless enough for my taste yet, but I suppose you can suck me off while I decide how I want you when I’m done tying you up.”
The Fae’s chin lifted. “What if I don’t wish to fellate you?”
Len smiled and stepped into his space, winding the fingers of one hand into his mane of silky hair, and unzipping his fly with the other hand. “What if I don’t care?” he retorted, and used his grip to pull Albigard’s mouth to him.
Never let it be said that Albigard was a slow learner. Already, his oral skills had improved to a level that meant Len wasn’t going to be setting any endurance records tonight. The wet heat, the rasp of a curling tongue, the suction as Len carefully fucked Albigard’s mouth—all of it combined to have him coming in two minutes flat. It might have been embarrassing, but embarrassment was the last thing on Len’s mind as his pleasure coiled and crested, pulsing his release across Albigard’s tongue in heavy spurts.
He let himself feel every exquisite moment, the Fae’s throat working as he swallowed around Len’s softening cock. Albigard let Len slip free from between his lips, and Len spilled his body backward onto the nest of furs, where his hair formed a tousled halo of palest gold around his head.
“Passable,” Len said, striving for indifference. It sounded a bit too breathless to be convincing.
“If I am to be used in such a depraved manner, I might as well strive to gain adequate skill at it,” Albigard said, a bit hoarsely, and Len made note of the fact that he was still speaking in full sentences, complete with snark.
Len went straight for the most effective cure for that problem, wrapping a hand around Albigard’s impressively hard dick and fisting it with firm strokes. Albigard inhaled sharply and stopped mouthing off.
“You’ll be ‘used’ plenty tonight, not to worry,” Len assured him, and let go in favor of reaching for more rope.
Forsaken Fae: The Complete Series, Books 1-3 (Last Vampire World) Page 54