Fortunately, it was a Wednesday morning in January. Even I-95 wasn’t that crowded.
He clenched the handlebars, white-knuckled, trying not to picture all the ways a young female could be hurt. If he was going to save his sister, he needed to stay calm, in control.
But this was Rosana. The pup who’d owned his heart from the day Nisio do Rio had emerged beaming from the bedroom he shared with Dion’s mom and announced that after four boys, Ula had finally blessed them with a girl. Dion and his three brothers had eyed the tiny bundle with awe.
Nisio had passed her to Dion first. “We’re calling her Rosana Marie.”
“Rosana Marie,” he’d breathed. She was so light, like a handful of flowers. He’d held her so carefully, terrified of somehow hurting her, and cautiously touched his lips to her petal-soft brow. She’d scrunched up her little nose, scenting him, and they’d all chuckled.
“You’ll take care of her,” Nisio had stated. “If anything happens to her mama or me.”
He’d met his papai’s silver eyes. “Of course.”
She’s smart, he told himself now. And she knows how to handle herself.
Cleia was always telling him not to underestimate his sister.
As they neared the exit for downtown Baltimore, Rui moved up beside him. “I vote we get off here,” he called above the roar of the motors. “Check out Savonett’s den.” They both knew its approximate location, even though a spell kept it hidden.
Dion frowned, not wanting to stop for even a few minutes. “Why?”
Rui rolled a big shoulder. “A hunch. But we’re flying blind here.”
Dion hesitated. He’d grown up with Rui, the two of them brothers in all but blood. He trusted the shark fada’s instincts.
The Baltimore exit loomed ahead. “Let’s do it,” he called back, and veered right, Tiago and the other two men following. They rumbled through the eastside until they came to Adric’s street.
Leaving the bikes in a vacant lot that smelled of garbage and piss, they strode down the sidewalk, Dion and Rui in the lead. The few people they encountered took one look at their faces and moved aside. One man did an about-face and walked rapidly in the opposite direction.
Rui stalked forward, nostrils flared. The shark fada could pick out a single person’s scent in a crowd of hundreds.
“There.” He indicated a run-down brick house with three concrete steps leading to a faded green door. The bushes needed a trim, and a rusted porch swing took up most of the narrow porch.
“You scent Rosana?”
“Sim,” was the terse reply. “And Savonett, both recent.”
Behind him, Tiago cursed.
They strode down the driveway. The first thing Dion saw was Rosana’s backpack on the ground near the shed. Crumpled nearby were her hoodie and a knit hat, and a single black boot lay a few yards away.
He gave a hard swallow. He’d known something was wrong, but seeing her belongings scattered forlornly on the grass brought it home in vivid, terrifying color.
Rui touched his arm. “It doesn’t mean anything. We already know she’s not here.”
“But it proves she didn’t go with that bastard willingly.” Dion pawed through the backpack, Tiago at his side, hoping for some clue, but all it held was the other boot, a pair of socks, a change of clothes—and the silver charm bracelet.
Hades. His fingers tightened on the charm. He and Tiago exchanged an apprehensive look.
Rui jerked a dagger from a hip sheath and leapt in front of Dion. “Up there.” He indicated the shed roof.
Dion let go of the backpack and grabbed his own dagger. Tiago and the other two men ranged themselves at his back, knives ready.
Marjani Savonett dropped lightly to the ground in front of them. She took a fighter’s crouch, a knife in each hand, lips peeled to reveal lethal canines.
“What the fuck are you doing in my brother’s backyard?”
Dion pushed in front of Rui. “Looking for my sister.”
Marjani’s gaze flicked to the backpack, and he knew she scented Rosana. “She was here? With Adric?”
He nodded. “She left a note saying she was coming to him. That was last night. But this morning, she called on Cleia for help. We traced her to southern Maryland and then lost her.”
“That’s a good two hours from here. Even if she was with Adric last night—and I’m not saying she was—why would he take her that far from Baltimore?”
“That’s what I’m trying to find out.”
“Look somewhere else, then. Adric would never hurt her.”
“Then why leave her backpack here? And her boots?”
A bewildered look crossed Marjani’s catlike face. “I don’t know,” she admitted.
Rui sheathed his knife to sniff the grass. “The scent—” He shook his head. “Adric’s scent on her is strong, but there’s another, more recent scent. And Rosana was afraid. There was a fight, I think.”
Dion pushed past Marjani to crouch beside him. “An earth fada.”
“The brown wolf,” Rui confirmed. He looked up at Marjani. “One of your brother’s lieutenants—Luc.”
She sheathed her knives and dropped to all fours, scrutinizing the slight depression the backpack had left in the wet grass. She inhaled deeply. They all heard her breath catch.
Dion grabbed her arm. “What is it?”
She shook her head. “I have to think,” she said, tight-lipped.
“Damn it.” He gave her a shake. “If you know something, tell us.”
Her eyes flashed with the blue of her cougar. “Get your goddamn hands off me.”
Suddenly, a tall blond male appeared out of nowhere—Fane Morningstar, Marjani’s quarter-fae mate. He shoved his face into Dion’s. “You heard the woman. Let her go.”
Rui clamped a hand on Morningstar’s shoulder, but Dion shook his head, and he let the other man go.
Dion released Marjani. “My apologies,” he told her as he and Rui came to their feet. “You understand, I’m worried about my sister.”
Marjani and her mate rose as well. Tiago and the other men closed in, and she bared her teeth. “Back off.”
Dion raised a hand. “Let her talk.” To Marjani, he said, “I would consider any help you can give me a personal favor. Rui is correct—my sister is with this wolf?”
She exchanged a glance with her mate.
They know something.
Fear for Rosana chewed at Dion’s insides, but he forced himself to wait calmly. Adric’s sister wasn’t a woman you could push.
“Do Mar is right,” she said. “It was Luc. But he’s not a lieutenant—not anymore.”
“He was demoted?”
She gave an unhappy shake of her head. “Not really. He accepted a fae’s geas. Adric had to expel him from the clan, at least until he serves out his term. But Luc shouldn’t be in Baltimore. We’ve been looking for him ourselves.”
“So you’re saying that if he took Rosana, it wasn’t with your brother’s permission.”
“That’s right. But—” The cougar fada scraped a hand over her wiry black hair.
“Tell me. Please.”
“You say you traced her to southern Maryland?”
He nodded. “A few miles from the state line.”
“Fuck.” She dropped her hand back to her side. “Adric’s gone, too. And I’m pretty sure he’s on his way to Virginia. To the New Moon Court.”
“He didn’t tell his second where he was going?” That was Rui.
“No.” Her mouth flattened. “He knew I’d never let him go alone.”
Dion frowned. What was the Baltimore alpha mixed up in now? “But why go to New Moon in the first place?”
“To protect me, damn it.”
“Jani,” warned her mate.
She hitched a shoulder. “What does it matter if they know?” she said. “In fact, maybe it could help.” She turned back to Dion. “It’s me the prince really wants.”
Rui made a small sound.
; They knew, of course, that someone in the Baltimore clan had slain Langdon’s only surviving son, but they’d assumed it was Adric. Now, the pieces of the puzzle rearranged themselves in a way that made perfect sense.
Dion lowered his voice to a sub-vocal level. “It was you who killed Tyrus.”
She jerked her chin in assent.
“To save Jace Jones and my daughter Evie,” Morningstar added in equally low tones. “And it was Adric who made the bastard’s body disappear.”
“Doing all of us a huge favor,” muttered Rui. He’d argued for years that Merry would be safer with Tyrus dead.
“But what the fuck does this have to do with Rosana?” Tiago demanded.
“Nothing,” Marjani said. “Unless…”
“What?” Dion said. “Please, tell us. Even the smallest piece of information could help.”
The cougar fada met his eyes. “Unless the prince knows how Adric feels about her.”
“And that is—?”
“She’s his mate.”
No. Deus, no. “Not if I have anything to do with it,” he grated.
Beside him, Tiago shook his head, although he seemed unsurprised.
“Take it easy.” Marjani glowered back. “He hasn’t claimed her. He doesn’t want this any more than you do.”
Rui set a hand on Dion’s arm. “Whether he’s claimed her isn’t important. What’s important is what the prince believes.” To Marjani, he said, “You think the wolf took her to New Moon?”
“I don’t know. He’s not under a geas to the prince, he’s under a geas to a fae lady. But she’s half night fae—she might be at New Moon.”
Dion’s stomach tightened. He had a bad feeling about this fae lady. “What’s her name—this half night fae?”
“Lady B,” Morningstar said, confirming Dion’s suspicions. “I believe you’ve had some trouble with her yourself.”
“We did,” Dion replied grimly. Blaer had tried to kidnap his brother Nic’s young daughter for some sick purpose of her own.
Morningstar spread his hands. “I’m afraid that’s all we know.”
“My thanks,” Dion said. “I won’t forget this.”
Fear beat in his blood. If Adric’s sister was right, then Rosana was at the night fae court…or worse, Blaer’s captive.
The fae who amused herself by capturing fada and forcing them to live out their lives in iron cages.
He spun on his heel, rapping out, “Let’s go,” in Portuguese to his men.
“Sim.” Rui was right with him. “I know a way inside New Moon.”
“Wait.” Marjani raced after him. “Take me, too.”
“No.” He kept moving. Adric’s sister was an unknown quantity—who knew what she’d do once they were in Virginia?
She kept pace with him. “My bike’s on the next block. It will only take me a minute to get it.” She grabbed his arm. “You owe me, my lord. Remember?”
His stride checked. The den of river fada who’d kidnapped her had included two former Rock Run men, and Dion would always wonder if he could’ve somehow prevented the attack. He’d promised then that if Marjani ever needed anything, she had only to ask.
“Come, then,” he growled. “But you’ll be under my command, understand? You’ll do nothing without my express permission.”
“Understood.” She hurried down an alley, her mate following.
“I’m coming, too,” he declared, and a low-voiced argument ensued.
Dion didn’t wait to hear the outcome. He broke into a jog for the motorcycles, the other men at his heels. Let Marjani keep up if she could.
But as they turned onto the I-95 ramp, she zoomed up on a slim black bike built for speed, her long-limbed mate’s arms wrapped around her waist, and with a terse nod at Dion, fell in behind him and his men.
27
She was in.
Blaer’s mouth curved as she followed Olivier down the wide staircase to the starkly elegant foyer.
No windows, but the fae lights had been shaped into disembodied torches. They floated near black marble walls, their imitation flames flickering purple and blue. The floor was a white-and-black checkerboard marble, and in a far corner, a lush arrangement of creamy flowers and vinca spilled from an onyx bowl on a stainless steel stand.
A lean, black-haired woman with a face like a fox’s—all high cheekbones and pointed chin—stepped out of the shadows. “Welcome home, daughter.”
Blaer’s smile warped into something dangerous as the butler faded discreetly into the background. Now, Fleur claimed her. The woman who’d sent her to live with the ice fae when she was just a child, tearing her from everything she knew with no warning.
“Mother.” Blaer descended the last step to the foyer and they air-kissed.
Fleur wore heels and a chic silver shift that showed off her long legs. Funny. Blaer had never realized that she’d unconsciously emulated her mother’s signature style.
Unlike Blaer, though, Fleur wore the high priestess’s black star around her neck. So her mother’s scheming had paid off.
“How kind of you to greet me,” Blaer murmured as she stepped back.
A shrug of her mother’s bare shoulder. They both knew kindness had little to do with it.
Fleur tipped her head to one side. “How is your father, anyway?”
It was Blaer’s turn to shrug. “Sindre suggested I…leave.” As her mother surely knew. “So here I am. And you?” Her gaze raked over her mother’s slight body, taking in the bite mark just above the silver dress’s low neckline. “How is the prince?”
As a ten-year-old child, she’d clung to Fleur, begged to be allowed to stay. But her mother had been adamant that she leave. It hadn’t been until Blaer was an adult that she’d understood why she’d been sent to Iceland. Her mother had caught the eye of Prince Langdon, and she wanted no reminder of her half ice-fae child at the court.
Especially a child sired by the ice fae king himself.
The ice fae hadn’t known what to do with Blaer, and her father had taken only a slight interest in her. When she’d tried one too many times to feed on the other fae at his court, Sindre had forced her into a tower with only goblins and the occasional elf for company. The fae governess he’d provided to educate her had only ’ported in for a short period each day.
For a decade, she’d only been let out of the tower for occasional visits, until she’d grown old enough to play Sindre’s games and he’d decided it amused him to let her rejoin his court.
Fleur brushed a cool finger down Blaer’s cheek.
Blaer stiffened. Even as a child, her mother had rarely touched her. She hadn’t needed to. A night fae could inflict a world of pain without any physical contact.
“You’ve grown,” Fleur murmured. “Become a beautiful young woman…and a powerful one.”
So that’s what this was about. Blaer’s mouth twisted. But she’d play along, see what her mother wanted.
“And I see you’ve been appointed high priestess. You must have…pleased the prince.”
Fleur’s full lips lifted in a catlike smile. “He seems satisfied.” She glanced at Olivier, standing at attention by the front door. The butler was doing his best to resemble a blank-faced statue, but they both knew he was listening.
“Langdon has granted you a place at the court?”
“He has.”
“Good.” Her mother nodded at Olivier, indicating he should precede them out the door. “Come, I’ll walk you to your new lair.”
“As you wish.”
Outside, the temperature was just above freezing, but to a woman who’d spent two decades in Iceland, it was practically balmy. Her mother, though, concealed a shiver. She must have rushed to Langdon’s lair the instant she heard Blaer had arrived.
And how had she heard so quickly?
Blaer eyed Olivier. No, the elderly butler wouldn’t risk his well-paying position to spy for Fleur. But that didn’t mean someone else in Langdon’s household wasn’t a spy. She filed that away
for possible future use.
More interesting was that her mother appeared unaffected by the noon sun. She donned a pair of sunglasses but didn’t seem concerned that the skin on her face and arms was exposed. Blaer recalled a time when her mother wouldn’t have been able to face even the weak winter sunlight except at dusk or dawn.
Blaer wasn’t the only one who’d increased in power in the years she’d been away.
“You came from France?” Fleur asked.
“Paris,” Blaer confirmed, unsurprised at this evidence that her mother had had her watched.
“Such a lovely city, especially this time of year. Short days and lights everywhere. Did you pick up that dress there?” Some of the world’s top fae design houses were located in the French capital.
“I did.”
“It suits you.”
Olivier took a path through a grove of towering oaks. They followed, discussing fashion as if they’d been separated for only a few days instead of two decades.
Blaer’s new home was located on the compound’s outskirts, Langdon’s way of letting her know she was here on sufferance.
Fleur looked on as Olivier showed Blaer around. Her new lair was smaller than the tower she’d had at Sindre’s court, with just two bedrooms, a living room and a small kitchen, but it would do. She didn’t plan to remain on New Moon’s outer edges for long.
“You may decorate how you wish, of course,” the butler murmured as they returned to the living room.
Blaer glanced around. Like the prince’s lair, the walls were black Italian marble with narrow windows covered by black-out shades. The furniture was Art Nouveau, all sinuous lines and plush burn-out velvet, and the rug was a dramatic swirl of black and white. The rest of the apartment was decorated in a similar style.
“This will do.” The twins would have to sleep in the second bedroom, but Jon was often gone on assignments anyway. He was her eyes and ears in the fae world, while Krysten stayed close.
And Luc would sleep in her bed—or on the marble floor. The choice was his.
Her mother eyed her thoughtfully. Then her mouth curved. “I’ll see you at dinner. Introduce you around. They’ll be dying to see how you turned out.”
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