“Wait!” Rosana sprang to her feet. “Please. Take me to Adric. Nobody has to know. I just need to see him for myself.”
The human looked down at her feet. “I can’t. But he’s fine. For now,” she added in a small voice.
“What do you mean, for now?”
Jessica shook her head.
Rosana dropped her voice. “Can you get a message to Lord Dion? He’ll pay you—anything you ask.”
“I’m sorry,” the human whispered as she backed out of the room. In a louder voice, she said, “Your dinner will be in the kitchen. I’ll be back for you in a few hours.”
41
Friday morning, they slipped out of the motel in twos and threes.
The meeting place was a little-used portal Fane had discovered on New Moon’s west side. The plan was to go in at noon, when most of the night fae would be fast asleep. Olivia and Cleia would hit the portal with a one-two punch: first, Olivia would weaken the portal with a counterspell she’d concocted, and then Cleia would draw on the sun’s energy to jab a hole through it.
Once inside, some of their group, including Marjani, Jace and Fane, would spread out to find Rosana and Adric. Meanwhile others, including Cleia, Dion and a cohort of sun fae warriors armed with fae balls, would mount a direct attack on the night fae.
Marjani, Jace and Fane reached the portal first. The look-away spell was powerful here, even with the counterspell cast by Olivia.
Look away. Danger. Runrunrun…
Rubbing her prickling nape, Marjani glanced away. But when it pressed her to leave, she set her teeth and pushed back.
The Rock Run men arrived and hid in a nearby marsh, while Marjani and Jace took positions high in the forest canopy. Fane simply used his wayfaring Gift to blend into the trees.
Marjani hunkered down in the branches of a maple to wait for noon. Her stomach was a tangle of nerves, her cougar edgy. For Rosana’s sake, she’d kept her promise to Dion, but with every day that passed, her fear for Adric increased.
Her brother had sacrificed everything for her, even his honor. And now he was going to lose his life. Because of her.
She was damned if she’d let that happen.
A clot of silver-gray clouds shrouded the sun. She scowled at the shadows that raced across the forest.
Zuri arrived, along with several of the clan’s top soldiers, all wolves. He’d demanded to come, pointing out that for now, the action wasn’t in Baltimore, but in Virginia.
Marjani had hesitated and then given her okay. If they lost this battle, the clan might not survive anyway.
The last to arrive were the sun fae warriors, a dozen long-limbed, beautiful men and women. Marjani eyed them skeptically. In her experience, Cleia’s people were the fae’s version of Hollywood A-listers: all about the fun and glitter. This group looked like sexy models playing at war in their combat boots and camo gear, knit caps pulled low over their bright hair. But they silently disappeared into the surrounding forest.
Marjani glanced back at the portal. The ever-present fog made it impossible to see into New Moon. Were the night fae waiting on the other side?
She fingered Lady Olivia’s protection charm, strung on the leather cord along with Fane’s mate gift and her quartz. The silver charm was shaped like a prowling cougar. She’d been surprised—and touched—that the sun fae lady had bothered to make her a charm.
Her hand went to the sheathed iron dagger also hanging from her neck. Another two iron knives were tucked into her boots and her front pocket held a switchblade.
The protection charm had been a kind gesture, but Marjani wasn’t here to be protected.
She was here to kill.
A steady drizzle had begun to fall by the time Cleia and Olivia ’ported in, both in long-sleeved tees and camo pants, their hair in French braids.
Marjani swung off her branch and dropped the twenty-five feet to the ground. Fane and Jace trotted up as she tucked her leather jacket into a crook of the tree, leaving her in a slim-fitting, easy-to-fight-in turtleneck. The men shed their jackets as well.
Dion, Rui and Tiago appeared from the marshes, also dressed for a fight.
Dion kissed Cleia. “Are you sure about this?” he murmured, a frown creasing his forehead.
Sun fae were strongest at noon on the summer solstice—and this was the middle of winter. Night fae, on the other hand, were at their most powerful once each month when the new moon ruled the sky.
Which would be tonight.
Cleia cupped his cheek. “I’ll be fine, love. Stop worrying.” Her pointed chin went up. “It’s time the prince learned he’s not the only powerful fae on the East Coast.”
Together, they formed a semi-circle around the portal. Behind them, Zuri and the other wolves formed a second row along with the sun fae.
Olivia glanced around. “Ready?”
At their nods, she faced the portal. The forest fell silent except for the steady drip-drip of the rain.
Raising her arms, Olivia took three deep breaths and spoke a phrase in an ancient fae language. Her palms shimmered. She traced a circle in the air and the portal became visible, a round door into the New Moon Court.
On the other side, fog snaked through the trees. Marjani gulped to see that inside, it was already night. How much time did they have before midnight?
“We’ll find him,” Fane murmured. “I promise.”
She nodded and pulled a dagger from her boot. Around her, knives appeared in the other fada’s hands as well. Dion gripped the bespelled dagger by its carved black handle. Even Fane had armed himself, and the man never carried a knife.
The barrier thinned slowly, almost imperceptibly. Olivia’s face grew taut with strain. Her arms began to shake, but the shimmering light never wavered.
“Now,” she said.
Cleia raised her own arms, calling on the sun’s power. Her palms glowed. She chanted an incantation, over and over. The heat intensified and fire danced over her body.
“Holy cat,” muttered Jace.
Mesmerized, Marjani stared into the unearthly fire along with everyone else. A warm breeze blew through the trees, tugging at their clothes, ruffling their hair.
Cleia gathered the fire, shaping it into a white-hot ball and flinging it at the portal. The ball stuck in the center as if it had been captured in a net.
“Fuck,” whispered one of the sun fae men.
Marjani clenched the dagger.
“Steady.” Dion set a hand on the small of Cleia’s back. “You can do it.” The fire danced over him as well, as he somehow aided her to control the energy.
“Yes,” Cleia whispered. The ball brightened until the light was unbearable to look at.
Marjani averted her gaze. A sizzle and a pop, and suddenly, the light was gone.
Cleia lowered her hands, chest working.
Dion rubbed her back. “You’re okay?” he asked anxiously.
“Go,” Olivia hissed. “Before they realize we’re here.”
“Yes.” Cleia gave Dion a small push. “Go. Olivia can only hold the portal open for an hour, maybe less.”
He glanced from his mate to the opening, clearly torn, and then sprang after Rui and Tiago, who had already slipped into the night fae compound.
Lurching into motion, Marjani followed him through the portal along with Jace and Fane.
42
The hours until midnight passed with agonizing slowness.
Olivier showed Adric to a large, comfortable apartment, but refused to answer any questions before locking him inside.
By then he was lightheaded from the iron poisoning his blood. He found salt in the kitchen, peeled off his shirt and cleansed the wounds as best as he could. The burns on his hands and arms had almost healed, but the knife wound on his chest seared like a red-hot brand. The salt solution burned almost as much as the iron itself, but he grit his teeth and rinsed the cut flesh repeatedly, then pulsed healing energy into it until the wound scabbed over.
He paced into the living room and sa
nk onto a pricey antique couch.
Thrice-damned, fucking fae.
Langdon’s sick bastard of a son had pushed Adric until he had no choice but to fight back—and the prince had the balls to blame him?
Worse, Marjani wasn’t any safer from Langdon than she’d been before this all started, and now Rosana was enmeshed in this fucked-up mess, too.
His mate.
His claws pricked out. With a snarl, he slashed them through the couch’s blue velvet cushions, sending stuffing flying around him.
Kill, hissed the cat.
Destroy.
Protect the mate.
He jumped to his feet and prowled feverishly from room to room, searching for a way out. The apartment was windowless, and the only exit wasn’t just locked, it was warded, because when he tried the door handle, it buzzed warningly in his hand.
He was trapped again. Just in a larger cage.
With a low growl, he took a gilded chair from the dining room and smashed it against the heavy wood door, again and again, until it lay in broken shards at his feet.
He stared down at the pieces, chest heaving, and then resumed his restless pacing, half-cat, half-man.
Burning up from the iron poisoning. Furious at being confined. Terrified for Rosana.
A half hour passed, maybe more, with him only half aware of his surroundings.
When he surfaced again, he was in the opulent black marble bathroom.
He set his hands on the counter. In the large round mirror, his cougar’s fiery blue eyes stared back. His fangs had lengthened, his claws fully extended to their two-inch-plus length. At some point he’d ripped off his shirt, and his pants were unbuttoned as if he’d started to remove them as well.
He hadn’t come this close to losing control of his animal since his dad had been executed by Leron.
He drew a breath and then shrank his fangs, retracted the claws. His eyes changed back to bronze with just a few slivers of blue.
At least he hadn’t reopened the wound on his chest. But his face was flushed with fever, his breath coming in rapid pants.
Sticking his head under the faucet, he took a long drink to flush the iron from his system. Then he got in the shower, scrubbing off the stench of the cell. He ignored the razor on the ledge with the shampoo and soap. Let Langdon see the rough-edged, dangerous animal he was dicking around with.
By the time he got out, his fever had receded. He felt weak but clear-headed again.
He dressed in the clean clothes he found laid out in the master bedroom and began a methodical search for a weapon. But the apartment held nothing that would damage a fae.
Food appeared in the dining room. A fat, juicy hamburger. Thick-sliced fries. Spicy coleslaw and a frosty glass of beer.
His skin creeped. How did they know his favorite meal? But he ate, even though it galled him to accept food from Langdon. He’d need fuel for the coming confrontation.
Belly full, he resumed his restless pacing, increasingly anxious to see Rosana. At least he sensed through the bond that she was healing, growing stronger.
He would break them both out of here. He was damned if he’d submit tamely to whatever Langdon had planned.
But without a weapon, it was up to his cougar.
Yes… hissed the cat.
His claws slid out again. He stared down at the wicked curved nails. Maybe he couldn’t kill Langdon, but he could do some serious damage. That should buy him enough time to grab Rosana and then cloak them both so he could spirit her out of New Moon.
Langdon might be able to sense Adric’s location with those Spidey-senses of his, but Adric would bet his entire collection of quartz that the prince couldn’t actually see him. Get Rosana away from Langdon, and the two of them would have a fighting chance at escape.
If the wards let us out.
Adric had always known he might not get out of New Moon alive, but it had been a chance he was willing to take. Now, though, he had Rosana to consider.
His mate.
His jaw set. Failure was not an option. He would extricate her from this mess, or die trying.
That decided, he curled up onto the undamaged couch to wait for midnight. Not sleeping, but resting in the way of his cat with ears wide open.
The moment he heard footsteps in the hall outside, he was up and springing across the room. He kicked the remains of the chair out of the way and waited impatiently for the lock to disengage before jerking the door open.
Olivier took in the damage with a pained look and then gestured for Adric to follow him. “If you’ll come with me, my lord.”
Adric grabbed his arm. “Where’s Rosana?”
“Right here, my lord.” The butler led him around a corner before opening another door.
Rosana stood there, legs braced apart, claws out. At the sight of Adric, she broke into a smile and retracted the claws.
He shoved past Olivier to pull her into his arms. “You’re okay?” He ran his hands over her. “How do you feel? Should you be out of the water?”
“I’m fine.” She touched his cheek. “What about you?”
“I’m good.” His hands trembled as he cupped her face. “But I was worried. About you. I—” His throat worked.
Worried was too tame a word for how he’d felt, but Rosana seemed to understand. She rose on her toes to brush her lips over his. “I’m okay. Really.”
She was. He could see it, scent it. He breathed a prayer of thanks to the gods and pressed kisses to her eyes, her cheeks, her throat.
He’d almost lost her.
He had to touch her. Taste her. Assure himself she was really okay.
Olivier coughed.
Adric growled without lifting his head.
Oliver cleared his throat. “The prince—”
“Can fucking wait.”
Adric pressed a last kiss to Rosana’s soft mouth and released her. This time, he registered the sassy little purple dress. He swallowed hard. “Damn. You look beautiful.”
The short, sleeveless design showed off her toned arms and legs, and dipped low over her full breasts. Her hair had been braided into a single inky plait, and like him, she was barefoot.
His mouth quirked. That was his Rosana, ready for anything.
Mate, the cat whispered in satisfaction.
“They took my other clothes,” she said with a shrug.
He fingered her amethyst pendant. It was warm, the crystals humming a contented tune. And the sea-green thread was back in his own quartz.
Mate.
This time, he didn’t even try to fight it. No, he welcomed it.
He snaked an arm around her waist. “You’re beautiful—and you’re mine. Don’t forget that for a fucking minute.”
“I think that’s the key,” she whispered in his ear. “You and me, together.” She inclined her head at Olivier like the alpha’s sister she was. “You may take us to the prince now.”
They followed the butler down another corridor and into a hall of ornate black mirrors half-covered by the lush ivy which snaked over the walls.
Rosana glanced at her reflection and jerked.
Adric halted. “What?”
“I see Dion and your sister,” she said in an excited whisper. “And Cleia, and Merry’s uncle, Jace. In the woods.”
His brows shot up. “Together?”
“Yes.” She pointed to a point on the black glass. “And there—I can see night fae lairs through the trees. They must be here—in Virginia.”
Olivier spoke directly behind them. “I believe they’ve been in negotiations with the prince.”
Adric’s stomach dipped. “Marjani, too?”
“So I hear,” the butler replied. “However, I haven’t been privy to the discussions.”
Adric glared at the mirror, but all he saw were their three reflections. “She wasn’t supposed to get anywhere near the prince,” he growled.
“Come,” Olivier said impatiently.
“Think, Adric,” Rosana murmured as they
followed the butler. “Your sister and Jace aren’t here alone. She’s with Cleia and my brothers. You’re not alone. You have all of us fighting on your side. This changes everything.”
“It’s too dangerous,” he bit back. “She knows it’s her the prince really wants.”
“Oh, Adric. Do you think that matters to her? How do you think she’d feel if you died because of her?”
He shook his head, still trying to wrap his mind around the fact that Marjani was right outside New Moon. The prince must be rubbing his hands in glee.
But a part of him couldn’t help be warmed that she and Jace had come after him. And probably Fane—the man wouldn’t allow Marjani to get this close to Langdon without him. Hell, there were probably some other Baltimore fada skulking around in the woods, too.
His step hitched. Every hair on his body raised. Even his scalp lifted.
Rosana had been right all along.
Her being here changed everything.
As they followed Olivier up the last flight of stairs to the outside, Rosana took Adric’s hand. The fae-tailored clothes—a deep green button-up shirt and black pants—outlined every muscle on his hard body. His face was stubbled with night-beard, his eyes a flat bronze.
Mated.
Despite the danger they were in, a delicious shiver went up Rosana’s spine. This beautiful, dangerous man was hers.
She took his hand, grateful for once to be a Seer. She’d felt hope surge in him when he’d realized they had a chance of rescue.
Outside, a soft rain was falling over the foggy grounds. A couple of fae lights wafted near, shimmering like opals in the mist.
Adric brought his mouth to her ear. “Be ready to run.”
She squeezed his hand. “Together.”
“Together,” he agreed as a half-dozen guards emerged from the fog, a tall female at their head. Olivier nodded at them and headed back underground.
Adric stiffened at the sight of the woman. He moved to put himself between her and Rosana. “Neoma.” The word was a growl.
Clearly, he’d encountered her before—and it hadn’t been a happy encounter.
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