Institute of the Shadow Fae Box Set

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Institute of the Shadow Fae Box Set Page 54

by C. N. Crawford


  I felt the cold air skimming over my bare skin through the leaves. The drums were stoking something primal in me, something between a sex drive and bloodlust.

  Get what you want.

  I turned to face Ruadan, and I slid my hands up his chest, grazing my nails against his torso. I gripped his shoulders, then tried to push him to the ground. His enormous body didn’t budge.

  I pushed him hard in the chest. “On the ground.”

  I leapt on him, wrapping my legs around him, and he fell back to the earth.

  With a coy smile, I leaned down. I straddled him, whispering in his ear. “I want you to see me. The real me.” I wasn’t quite sure what I was saying, but the words were just tumbling out.

  He looked feral, canines flashing. How long would he let me be on top of him before he threw me to the earth and tried to dominate me? He gripped me hard by the waist, fingers possessive.

  I pressed my mouth to his neck, giving him a little lick, a flick of my tongue over his skin. The hint of salt tasted delicious, and I rocked my hips over him. I licked again, reveling in the feel of his hands on me. I brushed light, sweet kisses over his throat, then moved lower over his collarbone, his chest.

  His body was tense as a bow string, and with each kiss on his chest, I felt him twitch. His magic was skimming over me like silk, stroking my body in places I wanted to feel his hands.

  I kissed him on the mouth again, rolling my hips into his. When I pulled away from the kiss, I caught his lower lip between my teeth.

  He stroked a hand up into my hair, gripping it hard. The other hand was on my bum.

  I kissed his neck slowly. I rocked my hips again, pleasure racing up my body from the apex of my thighs.

  He reached for the leaves over my breasts, ready to tear them off.

  I gripped his hand, stopping him. My body heated. “Wait.”

  I took in the perfect, masculine planes of his body, the scent of pine and apples. I ached for him so hard I could barely think of anything else. Still, I wanted something from him. I needed him to speak to me.

  I leaned down, whispering in his ear. “I need you to tell me that you want me.”

  On top of Ruadan, I felt like a goddess. The intensity in his dark eyes made my body heat and swell. He was looking at me like he wanted to fling me to the ground—like he wanted to flip me over onto my hands and knees and claim me. He was resisting. Always resisting.

  I tugged down the leaves just a little to reveal the swell of my breasts, and I moved my hips over him. “I want the truth from you. Say it to me.”

  “And what about your truth—?”

  I clamped a hand over his mouth.

  No. No. Not that. Not my truth.

  My heart thundered. “I want to hear the truth about how you feel about me.”

  His eyes widened, swirling with black. I leaned forward, my nipples grazing his chest. Gently, I kissed his neck, flicking my tongue over it again. His body felt hard beneath mine, pure steel.

  He gripped my hair, pulling my ear to his lips. His other hand flexed on my bum, his grip punishing. He whispered in my ear, “I want you as a lover, and I have from the moment I saw you. I want you naked in my bed, always. I want you to be mine.”

  “There it is.” I licked his neck.

  He ripped the leaves off my hips, and my breath sped up. I ripped his clothes off him, and we moved to the rhythm of the drum.

  Naked and satiated, I fell back on the soil. My head felt slightly clearer for the moment, but I didn’t think that would last long.

  I wanted to stay here forever, just Ruadan, the forest, and me. I felt his hands brushing over my skin as he wrapped my body in leaves again. I opened my eyes to watch him work, and I brushed a strand of his blond hair out of his eyes.

  Unfortunately, we couldn’t stay here forever, and we needed that antidote before we lost our battle completely.

  My muscles started to tense. We had a fae mage to bring home, and a psychopath to destroy. And we had just over an hour until that same psychopath unleashed a plague.

  With a new set of leaves tied over my chest, I sat up.

  “Can you smell her now?” I asked. “Your mage friend.”

  He turned to look at the bonfire through the trees, and his eyes narrowed. “She’s here.”

  “Good.” I pulled on my bug-out bag. “What does she look like? What’s her name?”

  “Aerwyn. She’s short. Amber eyes. Pale, golden skin. Curvy.”

  We began walking, and the scent of burning cedar curled around me. Something about the description of her bothered me.

  “She has purple hair,” he added. “With a streak of blue.”

  I frowned. “So she looks exactly like me, but with a blue streak in her purple hair.”

  “I wouldn’t say that, exactly.”

  “And you slept with her, right?”

  “Slept?”

  “You had sex with her.”

  “It was a long time ago,” he said.

  I clenched my teeth. It wasn’t important. The important thing about my relationship with Ruadan was that he planned to kill me at some point, but he just didn’t know it yet.

  A hollow opened in my chest, and I breathed in deeply, trying to calm myself.

  I stole a quick glance at Ruadan. Could I trust him well enough to tell him the truth? I didn’t think so. Ruadan seemed to put duty above everything else.

  As we reached the bonfire, a flash of purple hair caught my eye. Aerwyn was dancing around the fire, swaying her hips seductively, a slow, languid movement. She wore a mask of oak leaves and wildflowers.

  I took a deep breath, swaying slightly. “Any tips on how I could convince her to help us? All I know about her is that she hates men.”

  “Use that.”

  Not super helpful, but okay.

  I felt weird interrupting her dance, but I crossed to her anyway, the bonfire heating my skin. I needed to get her alone, and to do it in a way that wouldn’t call too much attention to our conversation. I had to look like an ecstatic reveler.

  I tried to sway my hips a little, too, as I sidled up to her. Up close, she didn’t look exactly like me—her mouth was a bit smaller. I couldn’t see her face completely under the mask, but she looked beautiful.

  I grabbed her by the hand. I pulled her away from the fire, and she laughed, skipping along by my side as I led her from the clearing.

  Once we’d moved deeper into the forest, I turned to her. She smiled at me, her cheeks pink. Giggling, she grabbed my waist, moving in for a kiss.

  I held up a hand to gently stop her. “Okay, that’s … you seem very nice, but that’s not why I’m here.”

  “It’s not?” She was still smiling. “I like you because you look like me.” She had a lilting accent, and I thought her first language might be Fae. She tried to pull me closer again.

  “Aerwyn. I need your help,” I said.

  She cocked her head, her smile disappearing. “How did you know my name?”

  “I came here with someone you knew.” What was my best angle? “Okay, here’s the story. I’ve been poisoned by Arubian’s hounds’ claws, and so have my friends, and we heard you could help with that,” I blurted. “Can you give us a potion or whatever?”

  Behind her mask, I saw her amber eyes widen. “Arubian?”

  “Yes.”

  “Sure. I can make a potion. If you don’t get it, the toxins will eat your brain.”

  My chest tightened. “That sounds pretty bad.”

  She blinked at me. “I can tell you’re telling the truth.” She brushed a strand of hair out of my face. “But what did you mean us? Who did you come here with? I need the whole truth.”

  I didn’t suppose I could just gloss over that bit and get back to the potions. “Umm….”

  “Don’t lie to me,” she snapped. “I always know. And without my help, your brain will become liquid.”

  My throat had gone dry, but the truth had worked before. “I’m here with Ruadan, Prince of Em
ain. He’s the Grand Master of the Institute we’re protecting in London. You don’t need to see him, you could just give us the potion. Please.”

  Fury flashed in her eyes, and she gripped my shoulders so hard I thought she was going to break something. “Ruadan?”

  “He mentioned you might have a history….” I trailed off, my head woozy again. Which, I reminded myself, was my brain starting to liquidize. “If we could just get back to the potion.”

  “He broke my heart. Completely shattered me. He seduced me, made me fall in love with him. He made me depend on him. I needed him. And he left me.” Her thumbs were digging into me. “He just left. He shattered me completely. He’ll do the same to you.”

  The air around us thinned, breeze growing cold.

  “The betrayal will kill you before the sword ever does.”

  Chapter 94

  My heart skipped a beat. Had she actually said that last part—those words I so often said to myself? “Wait, what did you just say?”

  “I said he shattered me completely.”

  I shook my head, still catching my breath. “I’m sorry.”

  “He likes breaking hearts,” she hissed. “He feeds off it.”

  My chest hurt. He’d break my heart, too. It was as inevitable as death.

  It took me a moment to put together the pieces completely. “He feeds off heartbreak? That’s his fomoire drive.”

  She nodded. “Oh, yeah. Real charming.”

  That woman who’d been singing karaoke in the pub, mascara streaming down her face—Ruadan had seemed completely fascinated by her. Now, it all made perfect sense. He’d been feeding off her heartbreak.

  A tendril of pain coiled through me. Had he said he wanted me in his bed? He’d feed off my pain, too.

  Still, Ruadan’s dark side was not my top concern right now. We needed the godsdamned antidote. Even with my liquidizing brain and the delirium of Wrenne, I had a ruthlessly practical side that could take over when I really needed it—the survivor in me that had kept me alive.

  I needed the poison out of me. I needed Baleros dead. My survival depended on it.

  “I’m sorry about Ruadan,” I said. “But I still need your help.”

  She crossed her arms. “Fine. But I’ll need to punch Ruadan in the face.”

  “That’s fine with me.”

  I took her by the hand again, leading her back to Ruadan, who stood in the shadows of the oak grove. He was holding something in his hand, but I didn’t have a chance to see what it was.

  As soon as we reached him, Aerwyn pulled her hand away from mine. She ran over to him and punched him hard in the jaw.

  He hardly moved, just a sharp turn of his head. He managed to hold onto whatever was in his hand.

  “Hi, Aerwyn.”

  Aerwyn clutched her fist, wincing from the pain. Then, she shoved a finger in Ruadan’s face. “You are a bad, bad man.” She pushed the mask up on her face and stared at me. Now, I could see we looked a bit different, her lashes and eyebrows lighter than mine. “What’s your name?”

  “Arianna.”

  “All right, Arianna. Give me a minute.”

  She disappeared into the shadows, and I turned to look at Ruadan.

  “Is your face okay?” My voice came out sounding angry. I felt like he’d already broken my heart, even if he hadn’t. He would, though. Of course he would.

  “My face is fine.” He held out his hand, and for the first time, I realized what he was holding. A wreath of leaves, threaded with bluebells. “I thought you might like this.”

  For just a moment, I forgot all about the fomoire issue, the impending heartbreak, the kill list. “You made me a crown.”

  “I thought you’d look beautiful wearing that.” His voice skimmed over my body. “And nothing else.”

  Then, I remembered everything Aerwyn had told me, and it all came crashing back into my muddled mind—how he made people love them, then broke their hearts. How he wanted me dead but didn’t know it yet. I turned away from him, clutching the wreath. How long until he realized the truth about me, before he put it all together?

  When I turned back, fear slammed into me. Ruadan stood before me in his nightmarish form—black, star-flecked wings, dark eyes, a silver sheen on his skin. Fully transformed, dark horns gleamed on his head.

  His lip curled, exposing his canines. “Creatures like you don’t belong on earth,” he snarled.

  He was going to rip my heart out of my chest.

  I had to kill him first, and my shoulder blades itched. I’d let my death magic wash over him. Sever all emotional ties. Kill them all.

  I gasped, stumbling back from him, trying to hush the death instinct.

  Then, as quickly as the image had arrived, it flitted away again. Ruadan’s wings had disappeared, the horns gone.

  A hallucination? I held my chest, gasping for breath.

  He frowned at me. “Are you all right? You look terrified.”

  “It’s the poison,” I stammered. “I need that godsdamned antidote.” I exhaled slowly.

  Sever all emotional ties. This won’t end well.

  With a shaking hand, I laid the wreath on the ground. “That’s sweet, but I’m not taking that with me. This won’t end well.”

  Had I said that out loud?

  When I looked up at him again—for just a moment—I saw a look of hurt in his eyes. It was gone again, so fast I couldn’t be sure it had been real.

  Just then, Aerwyn sashayed back through the shrubs holding a fistful of herbs and moss. “I’ve already blessed them with the power of the Old Gods. Just mash this up with rainwater, boil it, and let it cool. Once you drink it, it will counteract the effects of the poison. Will you be able to get it back safely?”

  I nodded. I had Tupperware in my backpack that should keep it secure.

  Ruadan looked at her. “Thank you for—”

  “Go fuck yourself!” she shouted.

  With that, she was off into the shrubs again. I shoved the handful of herbs and moss into my plastic container, then sealed it up tight.

  Within moments, the cold waters of the portal were ripping open the ground.

  I held a warm cloak around myself in the throne room, watching as Aengus drank the last bit of the antidote. Less than an hour left.

  I’d already drank mine, and within moments, my head had felt miraculously clear again.

  Outside, the sun was dipping lower, growing redder. Real, this time, and not the work of Nyxobas. Any moment, now, we’d be able to make our way to Hampton Court Palace. But first, Ruadan wanted us to secure the Institute.

  I strapped a sword and sheath to my waist. I wasn’t exactly sure what the plan was yet, but I felt better when I wore it.

  Melusine sidled up beside me. “What was the Wrenne festival like?”

  “I’m just glad we missed the prisoner-burning,” I muttered. Small mercies.

  “What?”

  “The burning of the sixteen prisoners at the bonfire.”

  She frowned. “They don’t burn people. It’s a fertility festival. The poison must have confused you.”

  I scowled. Ruadan’s weird sense of humor again, I supposed.

  Another explosion rocked the Institute, the sound nearly deafening. I clamped my hands over my ears. Who’d given them all the grenades? Bloody hells.

  At that moment, Ruadan crossed into the room, weapons crammed under each of his enormous arms.

  “We need to contain this, now,” he said. “We have to defend the Institute before they rip through the outer wall completely. Wear cowls to hide your identity. Shoot anyone attacking us.”

  I crossed to Ruadan, pulling a bow out of his arms and a quiver of arrows. I had a sword on me, but it wouldn’t do much good from the Tower.

  I pulled the quiver over my torso and held onto the wooden bow. It had been my mother’s weapon of choice, and she’d taught me to use it for hunting deer. Never for hunting humans, but like I’d said … women could be adaptable.

 
“Queen Macha and the other knights are already on the battlements,” said Ruadan.

  I pulled a cowl over my head.

  Ruadan rushed out of the hall—already on his way to slaughter the humans attacking us—and I followed close behind him.

  I moved swiftly, running through the hall, the corridors, the courtyard under the blood-red sky, until I found my way to the parapet that loomed above the Thames. To my right, half a tower had crumbled to the pavement, dust clouding the air. Scorch marks darkened the stone.

  Strangely enough, the idea of killing was a relief from my thoughts. Better to kill some attackers than to think about Ruadan—about that damned wreath, and the look on his face when I’d thrown it on the ground.

  I couldn’t even be sure that look had been real. I’d been dosed on up hallucinogenic toxins, and the truth was that he was a fomoire who wanted me dead. As I nocked an arrow, the thought hit me like a bullet. Of course he fed off heartbreak. The man was an incubus as well as a fomoire. On one side, he fed from love—the other, from love’s destruction.

  I stared as a man in a tracksuit below us reared back his arm, ready to hurl a grenade. I set my sights on him.

  Seriously, where the fuck had they got grenades from? Baleros, probably.

  I loosed the arrow, and it caught him in the chest. He fell to the ground, and the humans around him screamed. They looked so furious, so enraged, that I wondered for a moment if Baleros had cast some sort of rage spell on them. But no—it was really just that they were terrified of us, and humans acted like sadists when they were scared.

  A man in an Arsenal T-shirt gripped a Molotov cocktail. I nocked another arrow and released it. My shot caught him in the neck.

  I didn’t love killing humans. It seemed just a little too easy, and they were supposed to be our allies.

  Maybe I could try another method of crowd control.

  I crouched below the parapet and jammed my hand into my bug-out bag. I pulled out another arrow, along with tissues and a tiny plastic bottle of whiskey. I wrapped the tissues around the arrow’s tip, then poured the whiskey on it. My gaze flicked to the sky.

  Almost time to go.

 

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