Blood Tithe (The Lost Cove Darklings Book 2)

by Bekah Harris

  “It’s the same thing it said to me when we were held prisoner,” Raven finally said.

  Fhaescratch began pacing again as the Magi continued on like a looped recording. He stopped, looking at Felicity once more in a way that caused her stomach to flip.

  “Silence,” he commanded.

  The Magi stopped, mid-sentence. Nan had begun checking its wounds and wrapped an arm around it, as if in comfort, but Felicity had a feeling that it didn’t need any coddling. In fact, she was about ninety-nine percent certain that it could unleash its wrath and take them all out before they even registered what was about to happen. Fhaescratch looked at the Magi, studying it for a time as he hooked a finger over the point of his chin, rubbing. It was a habit Felicity had noticed he did when he was thinking.

  “You will take down the wards at sundown,” he barked at the Magi. “When the clock strikes midnight, it will be Samhain, when all veils will be thinned.”

  He turned to the group of rebels, all of them moving closer together as his wrathful stare fell upon them. “You will all be confined to the Mage’s cottage until Felicity is called upon for the Samhain ritual. Tristen, Luca, you will protect them with your lives until then.”

  Felicity’s need to know what Fhaescratch was thinking was nearly uncontrollable, but just as the question rose from her throat, he glared at her, silencing her. Dread settled over her like a quagmire and trapped her there. Fhaescratch needed her for something, and she didn’t know what. While the vow he had made to her father kept her life safe, there were other ways to die. The longer he held her gaze, the more she understood that whatever was about to happen would change her life forever.

  It was nearly dawn when they had arrived back at the cottage.

  Raven had gone straight to bed, and Felicity had offered her bed to Alice. After days chained to a wall, the poor girl definitely needed a mattress more than she did. Besides, there was no way Felicity would be able to sleep after the night she’d had, and there was still plenty more she needed to process. Nan scurried around, cleaning, even though the cottage was always spotless, but it was what she did when she was worried. Luca and Tristen talked in low voices in the kitchen, and the Magi sat in silence at the dining table, its foreboding presence freaking Felicity out until she had retreated to the rocking chair on the back porch that overlooked the garden. She needed to be alone for a while, and there were others in every corner of the tiny house. Outside, she could think.

  She pulled her feet beneath her in the chair and gripped the mug of tea Nan had made for her, the peppermint steam soothing her as she rocked slightly. She snuggled into the blanket she’d wrapped around herself and focused on the crickets and the roosting birds that woke before the sun. She closed her eyes, sorting through the shitstorm of the last twenty-four hours, wishing she had done things differently, but if she were honest, there was really no way she could have prevented what occurred.

  Raven still wasn’t talking to her, but the fact that she had joined their side against Fhaescratch made her think there was still hope for their friendship. The truth was that Felicity wouldn’t have done anything differently if she could rewind the last few hours. She went to the hidden realm for one reason. It wasn’t even about uncovering the Fledgling army, though that was a nice perk. It had been one hundred percent about rescuing Raven, and she had fulfilled that purpose. She could have convinced Tristen to go back for Dante and Campbell, but she hadn’t even tried. Felicity’s heart ached for Raven because she knew her friend cared for Dante, maybe even loved him. And she prayed Ardan was true to his word and got him out. If Dante came back, she knew Raven would forgive her eventually. But if he didn’t...Felicity would have to live with the decision she had made. It would be bearable because Raven was alive, and that was what mattered, even if her best friend hated her guts.

  And then there was the Magi, the way it had been pegged to the wall like a tortured insect. The creepy silence that surrounded it. The cloak that offered anonymity in every way from its gender to its physical appearance. The cryptic rhyme that haunted her like a disturbing lullaby. And the way Fhaescratch had looked at her with a mixture of awe and realization.

  But Seelie heir long undiscovered

  Will take her place with crown recovered

  Was she the Seelie heir the Magi had spoken of? Maybe. Maybe not. But it was clear Fhaescratch believed it, which made Felicity more vulnerable than ever. She pushed back the hot tears she felt building in her eyes. She missed Lyric and Lochlan, their painfully normal life where magic was only an old wives tale, back before she knew who and what they all were.

  And Tristen.

  She didn’t even know what to think about Tristen. Felicity had never intended to use her magic against Fhaescratch. She knew what that meant. Imprisonment if she was lucky. Death if she wasn’t. But she had acted on pure instinct the minute Fhaescratch drew blood from his son. What kind of father raked nails across the flesh of his child? What kind of king treated his heir with such cruelty for doing what was right? The magic had surged through her and taken over before she could control it, as simple as whirling around when you felt someone walking behind you.

  But he had defended her against his father.

  Even though he wasn’t allowed to touch her as Lost Cove’s Mage.

  Even though a Laltog was forbidden to love a Fae.

  Even though Kyla and Fhaescratch had tried to convince them it was only the lure of Felicity’s blood that drew Tristen to her.

  Yet he had risked his own safety, maybe even his life, to protect her.

  Felicity took a long sip of her tea, wishing it was something harder, longing for the oblivion of drunkenness. But there was nothing to stop the swarming of her thoughts, buzzing around incessantly like bees in a hive.

  “May I sit?”

  She hadn’t even heard the door, but it was Tristen’s voice that pulled her from the vortex of her own thoughts. Her stomach flipped, warmth puddling in her middle. She looked up at him, her breath hitching as she took in his profile in the light of the moon. Somehow, she managed to nod. He sat down on the stairs of the porch, leaving plenty of room for her to join him, though he didn’t ask. But the need to be close to him was stronger than her apprehension. She placed her mug on the railing and sat beside him, wrapping the warm blanket around her shoulders.

  “Why did you do it?” Felicity asked. The question rose unencumbered, and once it was in the air between them, she felt vulnerable, afraid of what the answer might be.

  Tristen took a deep breath, a rare show of apprehension on his own part. He was silent for several moments, as if trying to figure out how to answer. Maybe he didn’t know. But then, he took her hand in both of his own, pressing a kiss to her cold skin. Fire erupted to life inside her, her heart trembling like a swarm of moths trapped in a jar.

  “The truth?” Tristen said, laughing without humor. “The truth is that when it came right down to the outcome, that one of you would be dead if I didn’t do something, I realized I would rather live without my own father than allow anyone to harm you.”

  She met his dark eyes, held there as if under persuasion, though she was immune to it. Her body felt foreign to her, trembly and anxious, urging her to wrap her arms around him and kiss him till she no longer knew her name.

  But there was the blood between them, and it held her place.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” he said. “Trust me, I wish I had never given in that day in the library. I wish I had never tasted your blood because then, you would still trust me. You would still trust your feelings and mine. I can’t take it back, though. Before I met you, I would have said there was nothing in any realm that could make me betray my own family. But now…” He broke the hold he had on her eyes to look at the sky. “Now, there is you, and it’s more than blood or laws or loyalty.”

  Her own thoughts echoed his. She had felt sure of it, despite his sham of an engagement, despite the laws surrounding her role as Mage, despite the complica
tions of their bloodlines. But she had allowed Kyla’s cruel words to taint her trust in him.

  “What about the rules?” she whispered, surprised at her body’s response to his words.

  “Fuck the rules,” he said.

  It was the hottest thing she had ever heard him say.

  She wasn’t sure who moved first, but in a blink, they were a tangle of arms and legs. She wound her arms around his neck, pressing herself as close to him as she could get as their lips met. His arms were around her waist, pulling her closer as he angled his face to deepen their kiss. She felt the sharp point of a fang as their mouths moved together, but he was careful with her, even though her body was urging the opposite. His hands never strayed north or south, and his lips never explored beyond her face, as if his body was saying, “This is real. This is more than blood and lust.” And somehow, Felicity knew this chaste kiss was so much more than the impulsive make-out session in the library, the one that would have spiraled rapidly out of control if they hadn’t been caught. She clung to him, hooking her arms under his, her hands moving against the muscles of his back, relishing the slow burn of unhurried sensation as his tongue tangled with hers.

  They kissed and kissed for what seemed like hours, wrapped in each other’s arms and Felicity’s warm blanket until they simply clung to each other, watching the horizon as the sun rose behind the eastern ridge.

  Chapter 27

  “So, you don’t believe Fhaescratch is behind the Laltog army?” Ivy asked Lyric. “You’re certain this couldn’t be vengeance against Seelie or an effort to start a new Uprising?”

  Lyric was taking tea with Juliet and Ivy, while Lochlan and King Padraic prepared the Unseelie guards to remain on standby. As soon as they heard from Ardan, they would take whatever actions necessary to protect Faerie and to protect Felicity, Nan, and Raven.

  “Oh, it’s totally about a new Uprising against Seelie,” Juliet said, “but probably just not in the way you’re thinking. We don’t think it’s Fhaescratch this time.”

  “Then who?” Ivy asked.

  Just as Lyric was about to answer, Spraff tapped on the window, his downy head ruffled from a night of flying.

  “Finally,” Lyric said.

  Anxious for news from Ardan or any news regarding her husband’s safety, Ivy sprang from the chair, opening the window to allow him inside. She rewarded him with an affectionate scratch on the head before Spraff flapped from the windowsill toward Lyric. She held her finger out, allowing him to perch there, as Ivy wrung her hands.

  “What news have you for me, my little friend?” Lyric asked.

  Spraff hooted quietly, widening his eyes in silent signal that he did, in fact, bear a message, hopefully from Ardan.

  “Tell me, little one,” she said.

  Then, bringing her eyes close to Spraff’s, she gazed into the orbs of his eyes as they began to swirl together until images took form. At first there was darkness, accompanied by feral growls and cat-like hissing. Red eyes flashed, claws slashed, pale mouths snarled from enraged expressions. Some of them were familiar—the missing humans, barely recognizable now that they had been turned. There were sounds of struggling, fleshy pops and gurgling, black ribbons of Unseelie magic. Finally, when the area was silent, Ardan’s glamoured image appeared.

  “Felicity and I made it inside the wards that protected the Laltog army,” he whispered. “It is as you said, but I do not believe Fhaescratch is behind it. I got Felicity out of here, but I stayed behind to search for a couple of her friends. There will be an attack, not on Seelie, but on Lost Cove during the Samhain revel tomorrow. We believe they plan to unseat Fhaescratch, take Lost Cove, and then use that realm to raise an army against Seelie. Do not tell Barrett, as was originally planned. If he believes Felicity is unsafe, he will violate the vow and send Seelie forces. If that happens, that whelp of a prince will take the throne and destabilize the entire realm. Send Unseelie guards. Send my brother. I will remain and help fight once I’ve recovered the two boys.”

  The image slowly faded, and Spraff blinked, his eyes returning to their normal glow.

  “Well?” Ivy demanded. “Say something! Is Ardan okay?”

  “Ardan is fine,” Lyric said, repeating the message he sent through Spraff.

  “Then, it’s all as you and Jules found through your research?”

  Lyric nodded. “So it would seem. I wouldn’t think Ardan would intentionally kill any of the turned humans, so Lost Cove will be up against an indeterminate amount of fledgling vampires, and he believes they’ll attack during the Samhain revel. They’ll likely attack the humans first to gain power through blood and then move on to the Laltogs. We’ll have to be ready to enter by midnight.”

  “I’ll go tell Padraic,” Juliet said. “In the meantime, Ivy should go back to Winter. With Ardan gone, the Winter castle should not be without its ruler.”

  Ivy nodded, understanding that her role as Queen had to overshadow her worry for Ardan. “I gather you’re not planning to sit this one out?”

  “Not a chance,” Lyric said. “I’ll see that he’s safe.”

  Smiling, Ivy embraced Lyric and followed Juliet into the hallway toward the portal room. Once the door was closed, Lyric launched into action, crossing the room to grab her fighting leathers. Before she dressed, she reached toward the locked chest in the top of her closet and slipped the tiny key inside the lock. The lid popped open, revealing the key forged by the Magi only weeks ago to gain entry to Lost Cove. They would use it again, this time hoping to help Fhaescratch rather than harm him.

  Chapter 28

  All day long, Halloween festivities had commenced in the village down the hill. Heart wrenching aromas had drifted upwards through the open windows of the cottage, sending a surge of longing straight to Felicity’s soul. Mulled apple cider. Cinnamon apple butter. Funnel Cakes. Chocolate Fudge. All the familiar scents of fall festivals in Prosperity Glen conjured up memories of her past life that made her dread the coming Samhain celebrations even more, a feat she never thought possible. She knew without looking that the human children were dressed in handsewn costumes, going door to door for the homemade candy that scented the air. At their celebration in the town square, they would bob for apples, go on hayrides, and play tag and hide and seek. In the distance, she heard the picking of banjos and guitars, and she knew the cakewalk must have been underway. Cake.

  Last week, Felicity and Raven had made a pact that if either of them won Miss Lola’s strawberry poke cake, they would share it. But at the moment, one decadent sugary scent rose above all the other delicacies.

  “I’d give my left ovary for a funnel cake,” Felicity whispered.

  “Or a deep fried Oreo,” Raven blurted, clamping her mouth shut once she had said it.

  Felicity fought a smile. Raven had momentarily forgotten how mad she was at Felicity. But just as quickly as the temporary amnesia had taken hold, it was gone, giving way to Raven’s silent anger. Felicity’s hope was short lived.

  Her best friend was still furious at her, and there was still a battle looming. All the carefree humans who felt so safe in Lost Cove would be under attack in a matter of hours—and, at the moment, there was nothing Felicity could do about it. Only Fhaescratch could initiate precautions or warn the humans he promised to protect. But he was more concerned with the appearance of normality. He didn’t want to tip off Kyla or Conlan that he had discovered their betrayal.

  The sun was dipping behind the western mountains, which meant the Laltogs were preparing for the Samhain feast. Tristen had left to get himself ready, leaving Luca behind to keep watch. Soon enough, he would come to escort Felicity to the celebration. She was dressed for the occasion. Queen Rowena had sent one of the human girls to the door with four different gowns to choose from, ranging from satin scarlet to green velvet. Ultimately, Felicity had chosen a mermaid gown in a smoky lilac with a gorgeous lace overlay. The cap sleeves were embellished with black feathers, and the back was sheer with lace details that looked like
fingers reaching toward her spine. It was, in a word, perfection.

  She had never worn anything so beautiful or expensive, and she felt like she was playing dress up, which was appropriate on Halloween, all things considered. But the bleak occasion had dampened her enthusiasm, as well as everyone else’s reaction.

  “It will be alright,” Nan said, pulling her into a one-armed hug. It’s going to be just fine.”

  “And if it’s not?” Felicity asked.

  “It will be.”

  Felicity was on the verge of unloading every fear that wriggled inside her like a tentacled sea creature when there was a low knock on the door. She took a deep breath when Tristen stepped inside, looking every inch the Halloween vampire. His formal suit was solid black with a wide tie, along with a satin vest and jacket. His eyes fell on her, lingering as he eyed her from toe to head. He didn’t comment in front of the small audience but his eyes were enough to speed Felicity’s heart and liquify her insides. He held his arm out.

  “It’s time,” he said. “Father is asking for you.”

  Felicity straightened her spine, steeling herself for what was about to happen. Before she reached Tristen, someone grabbed her from behind and pulled her into a hug. The scent of patchouli and rosewater engulfed her, and she sagged into Raven’s arms, nearly in tears. She held on, squeezing for dear life, trying to communicate everything she couldn’t say with words. When she pulled back Raven’s eyes were teary, though she didn’t cry. Instead, she directed her wrath on Tristen.

  “I don’t know how, but I will gut you if she doesn’t come home to me in the same condition she left in.”

  Tristen smiled at the threat but then grew serious. “I will protect her with my life.”

  “Damn straight you will,” Raven said. Then, she looked back at Felicity. “Misfits stick together.”

  Felicity smiled, the fragment of her heart that had splintered with Raven’s anger healing itself. She knew Raven was still mad, but they were still friends, and that mattered a hell of a lot with what she was about to walk into. When they couldn’t delay any longer, Felicity took Tristen’s arm, and they walked down the path toward the castle.