The Fox wasn’t a long one—even with our detour to the pet store—but I was relieved when it was over. The tension in the car was palpable, and none of us could keep our eyes off Ruya for long. To make matters worse, I was pretty sure Ruya was starting to put out omega pheromones, if the way Robin and Martina were acting was any indication. The chupacabra couldn’t seem to sit still, constantly shifting around in her seat. And Robin went all silent and aloof, but I kept catching hints of her dragon in her eyes.
I let out a sigh of relief when we all exited the vehicle. The crow came at us in a screaming dive bomb, landing on Ruya’s outstretched arm so she could pet its head and nuzzle her cheek against it. Then we made our way inside. The reconstruction was already nearly complete. While the outside of the building was back to looking as nondescript as possible, Robin had somehow managed to coerce the carpenters and masons into making the lobby even more gaudy and over the top than before. They still had a ways to go with all the plaster, paint, and gold accents, but I could already see how hard Robin was working to ensure her nest was even prettier than before. Some of it was probably pure spite against the people who had dared attack us. But I knew at least some part of it was also done to impress the pretty witch we had just rescued, even if Robin would never admit that.
My skin tingled as we passed the outer wards around the property, then my head buzzed as we crossed the threshold into the theater. We had beefed up the wards significantly since Ruya was taken—and it had cost us all a big chunk of our magic reserves. The awful feeling in my head receded and the magic in my aura that was a match to that in the wards settled with an almost audible sigh.
The fae, who was still clinging far too close to our witch, shook his head, his fluffy blond curls flopping around, and for just a second there, I got a glimpse of a pair of stubby little horns. Why he was bothering with glamour was a mystery. Humans were used to rubbing elbows with paranorms at this point, but fae had some weird rules about that stuff. He worked his jaw as if trying to get the pressure in his ears to equalize. He didn’t have any overtly hostile intent, so he had made it this far into our lair. But he couldn’t be comfortable, since the magic didn’t recognize him as one of us.
Which reminded me. I looked to Ruya to find her shoulders straight and her gaze level. There was no sign of discomfort. She masked her pain so well. “The wards--” I began.
But of course, Sanka beat me to it. Our sorcerer was a beta personality type at heart, even though his fiery temper sometimes masked that. “Ru,” he said, stepping closer to the witch. “I need to set the wards to recognize you.”
The glamoured man beside her tensed, reaching out to slap Sanka’s hand away when he reached for her. He didn’t speak—from the nasty scars that slashed across his throat, just visible above the collar of his hoodie, I could imagine why—but his bright green eyes spoke louder than words. He thought Ruya was his. And that was going to be a problem.
Sanka growled, but didn’t start throwing killing magic. Yet. I crossed my arms over my chest and did my best to quietly loom. If a little bit of my aura slipped free to incite fear, well, who could blame me?
Ruya tilted her head, frowning as she tried to figure out what was going on.
“I need to add a couple drops of your blood to the keystone, so the wards won’t bother you,” Sanka said in an even tone. “I need your hand, sweetheart. A little prick of your finger.” He pulled his athame and a small glass vial from his belt, clearly not willing to show the fae where the origin of our wards was hidden.
The fae snorted, his green eyes narrowed and his hand coming to rest on Ruya’s lower back.
Ruya just sighed. “Fine. Then you can do Cicely too.”
Sanka laughed, a low, dark chuckle that would do a bubak justice. But it was Robin who replied. “Absolutely not. I’m not giving a complete stranger from a syndicate faction free range in our sanctuary.”
Ruya’s chin went up and we all watched with a sense of mingled amusement and awe as the witch and the alpha dragon glared at each other. Ruya might be sheltered and soft around the edges, but I had a feeling Robin had met her match in stubbornness, now that the witch was gaining the confidence to fight back.
“Come on, Cicely,” Ruya said evenly, no hint of anger or anything else in her rich, high voice. “We’ll find somewhere else to stay.” Then she spun on a heel and started back toward the door.
Panic rose up in me. She couldn’t just leave. The last time our witch walked out those doors she was attacked and taken from us. But the protest dried up in my mouth when I laid eyes on Robin. Smoke curled from our leader’s nostrils, and her high cheekbones were flushed. Claws tipped her fingers, and the harsh snap of alpha compulsion in her husky voice made it almost a roar. “You will not walk out that door, witch!”
It was the wrong thing to say, and I’m pretty sure everyone in the room knew it, even Robin. Ruya stopped, clenched her fists at her side, but didn’t turn back. “Did you just use magic on me to try to make me stay?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper, but so cold and sharp it could cut.
Robin shook her head, and her whole body rippled, as if she was shaking off a physical blow. “I apologize. But I will not let you simply walk right back out into danger, Ruya. We’ve risked too much to get you back.”
Ruya laughed, a dry huff of sound that was scathing. “And that’s all that really matters, isn’t it? The fact that someone might know your precious secrets? You don’t give a damn about my wellbeing, do you? You only want to make sure no one else steals your toys.”
The bitterness in Ruya’s voice hurt. It was physically painful to hear the anguish there, to have evidence of how much her recent ordeal had colored her perception of the world. Of us. The Ruya I knew had been betrayed by her family, but she still had this sense of hope about her, this tentative, slow blooming belief that life could get better.
But the woman before me was void of that spark. The fae had snuffed out her hope. And her trust in our court. “If I stay, Cicely stays,” Ruya continued in that flat tone. “But I won’t have him suffering for it. So either you let him in, or we both leave.”
Robin ground her teeth together. Sanka wouldn’t look away from Ruya. But Yukio, Martina, and I shared an uneasy glance. Robin wasn’t the only one who didn’t want a stranger to have full access to our nest. It was Martina who spoke first.
“Ruya,” she said gently. “We want you with us. We do care for you, no matter what you believe. But we’ve all worked too hard for our own freedom to risk it for a stranger, especially one from the syndicate. It’s a massive security breach.”
Yukio’s wings buzzed in agitation. “You’re asking that we risk everyone else for your safety, witch. What if you’re wrong? What if that goat boy is here because Odell told him to get info on Robin? What if he kills one of us? Are you willing to live with the guilt and bear all the responsibility?” His pretty voice slid into a chilling whisper. “Because I’m telling you right now, witch, if Robin or Sanka are harmed, it will be me exacting vengeance from your soft, lily-white skin.”
Ruya wavered, I could see it on her face. She knew we were a family. She knew Yukio, Sanka, and Robin would kill to protect their lovers—and rightfully so. She also didn’t fully trust us anymore.
The stalemate was resolved by the fae himself. He patted Ruya’s shoulder and watched her intently, and she turned to him with a frown, as if they were having some silent conversation. Finally, Ruya let out a long sigh, her shoulders collapsing. “Fine. But promise you’ll speak up if it gets to be too much.”
The fae patted her shoulder again, then looked at Sanka and nodded stiffly. As if the sorcerer needed his permission to touch the woman who stood between them. Sanka rolled his eyes and reached for Ruya, taking her hand and bringing it to his lips for a glancing kiss before he proceeded to take her blood. “Sorry, sweetheart,” the big lug muttered as he worked. “But this will make you way more comfortable, I promise.”
She didn’t reply, just let him prick her finger on the point of his knife and collect a few drops of her blood. Then the sorcerer hurried away out of sight to key the wards to our witch. Ruya put her finger in her mouth and gestured with her free hand. “Well? That’s done. I’m sure you want to know all about what happened with Odell, and I could really use some food that isn’t laced with fairy poison.”
Robin nodded, making a visible effort to tuck her dragon away and act like a well-bred lady. “This way, darling,” she said, smoothly moving to Ruya’s side, tucking the witch’s arm in her own, and pulling her away from the fae. “Yukio has been stress baking for days, and he’s made all your favorites.”
Yukio’s muttered, “Fuck you,” was just loud enough to carry. The poor pixie glared at me as I did a bad job of hiding my smirk. He had been just as frantic over losing Ruya as the rest of us, no matter how hard he tried to deny it.
We headed through the theater and to the lower levels, to the shiny kitchen that was Yukio’s domain. I hated how unhappy Ruya must be right now. I hadn’t had a chance to speak with her, since we were busy escaping and surrounded by others. My chest ached, and I barely stopped myself from rubbing the spot over my heart. I had failed Ruya and I needed to apologize. Not that words would ever make up for this massive rift that I had caused with my bumbling incompetence.
Sometimes I missed the harsh punishments my sorcerer captors used to deal out. It was easier to feel you had made amends for your failings when you’d had the price of failure extracted from your flesh and blood. Words were so much harder.
Once we were all settled around the kitchen table with a spread of food, I expected Ruya to dive right in. She usually ate with a gusto, like a person who had never been allowed to enjoy decadence and could fully appreciate Yukio’s skills. But now, she just picked at her food. The fae didn’t touch it at all, probably far too used to fae tricks that involved ingesting magic.
“They know about my powers, and they know you’re out for revenge, Robin,” Ruya blurted out. “I tried not to tell them anything—not that I know much, anyway, since you never tell me anything—but…they had a way of extracting the information from me that I didn’t expect.”
Robin had gone utterly still, no expression on her beautiful features, but Ruya couldn’t see that, and the witch hurried on. “I’m sorry. I don’t know how Odell will use the information. You were right to think I was a liability, back when you first brought me here. I can see that now.”
Even though she was so suspicious of us now, it sounded like Ruya was torn up about the idea of having betrayed us. I braced myself to get between her and the others, in case Robin or Yukio decided to lunge at her. But we all startled when the fae banged his hand on the table loudly, demanding our attention. He shook his head and made a slicing gesture through the air, glaring at each of us in turn. Then he turned to Ruya and touched her cheek, turning her head to face him so he could press his forehead to hers.
He didn’t seem to realize that casually touching her that way was just making the murderous rage in the room ratchet up higher. Even I wanted to strangle the little golden boy, and I wasn’t the one sleeping with our witch. Sanka’s aura flared with his power. But Ruya’s trembling voice kept us all in our seats. “You…you didn’t tell him? But why?”
The fae pulled back to brush a kiss against Ruya’s forehead, and his expression was so full of pain and bittersweet resignation that I suddenly felt like an intruder watching something private that I shouldn’t be seeing. Ruya touched the spot he had kissed, then shook her head. “Okay….”
Clearing her throat, she turned her focus back to the room at large. “Apparently, Odell only knows that I have some sort of healing ability that requires touch. He doesn’t know the extent of it, and Cicely didn’t tell him anything I gave away about you, Robin. I…he…said he told Odell he needed more time.”
I arched a brow at that. The fae was the one who had stolen the information from Ruya at Odell’s command. And it sure as fuck looked like he could communicate with Ruya using some kind of mental connection. That kind of magic was insidious and cursed. I wanted to behead him immediately.
But Ruya spoke up again, once more proving how much she had changed. “And before anyone starts in with the stupid posturing, if any of you even think about hurting Cicely, I promise you’ll regret it.” She did that adorable, frightening chin lift again, her clear blue eyes like brittle diamonds. “The issue is between me and Cicely, and I’ll handle it myself.”
The fae was looking down at the table like a scolded puppy. Not that I bought his act. But I wondered just what his story really was.
“So,” Robin said slowly, her voice a deceptive, seductive, husky purr as she sliced into a piece of spicy, still-bleeding steak. “Remind me again why this creature is now allowed in my home?”
Ruya bristled, but the fae intervened again, holding up a hand and patting the air, as if asking for everyone to calm down. Ruya nodded, again carrying on some silent conversation with this unwelcome intruder. “It can’t hurt.” Then she spoke to the rest of us again. “We need a pen and paper. Cicely has things he wants to tell us, and it’s easier for him to write it out.”
“Easier than talking to you—and you alone—using some sort of fae mindspeak, you mean?” Yukio said coldly.
Ruya waved him away. “Exactly.”
Sanka huffed, but got up and went to fetch a notepad and pencil for the fae. “Stay the fuck out of her head,” he muttered as he tossed the items in front of the other man. “Or I’ll set your ass on fire.”
Ruya reached out without missing a beat and backhanded him right in the chest, hard enough to make the mage flinch in surprise. “Back off, Sanka, I mean it.”
And now the sorcerer was the one looking like a kicked puppy. This woman was terrifying.
We all waited in awkward silence, taking the chance to eat while the fae scribbled furiously. When he was done, the silent blond scooted his notepad across the table toward Robin, his green eyes glittering and his expression one of hardened determination.
Robin arched a perfectly manicured brow at him, her expression bland, but she took the notebook, her golden eyes flicking over whatever he had written there. When she was done, she glanced up at the fae from under her long, red-gold lashes, then looked down again, reading through the whole thing one more time before speaking.
“It seems our new friend hates Odell and his court even more than we do—if he can be believed.” She narrowed her eyes at the fae, but he just stared right back, doing his best not to cower under Robin’s strong alpha presence. “He has offered us information about the emperor, of all people, in exchange for sanctuary, for as long as Ruya is in residence here.”
Ruya was silent, her unseeing eyes staring off into space, her face betraying no hint of emotion. I hated that she was learning to hide her thoughts that way. That her recent experiences were just reinforcing what I could only guess she had learned at the hands of her previous family.
Robin leaned back in her chair, one arm draped lazily along the back, all indolent grace and boredom. “And what makes you think I care about the emperor? It’s Odell and his little court we were talking about.”
The fae stood and leaned across the table, yanking his notebook back so he could scribble furiously. Then he held it up for Robin to read, but I got a good enough glance to see what he had written there.
Because Odell is just one small step in your ultimate goal of destroying the syndicate. It’s the emperor you really want. And I’m mute, not stupid—something Odell and his cronies didn’t seem to understand. I’ve heard things. Seen things. The emperor has magic you don’t understand. An artifact. And a way to dodge any threats that come his way.
I glanced around the room at the others as Robin silently stared the fae down. This wasn’t good. The man had guessed who Robin’s true target was. Either that or he had pulled it from Ruya’s head—which would mean Ruya had figured it out. Either way, it meant we were being sloppy. Mistakes like this could get us all killed.
“I’m going after the emperor? Did you pull this amusing theory from Ruya’s head while you were mucking about?” Robin said with an amused smile that hid the danger in her eyes. “Or is this just some fairytale you made up all on your own?”
Ruya tilted her head. “What? What did he write?” She glanced in Cicely’s direction. “Tell me.”
But the fae just kept glaring at Robin. He patted his own chest, probably deducing what everyone in this room was thinking. I’d seen Robin kill to keep her secrets. A strong leader who was able to stand up to the syndicate wouldn’t hesitate to get rid of the security threat. He was protecting Ruya by taking the blame. And if I could see that so easily, then so could Robin.
I misted into shadow at the same time as Sanka and Martina both sent their chairs crashing backward as they leapt to their feet, all of us moving to get between Robin and Ruya. Yukio’s dark blue eyes darted between the women in question, and he tensed but didn’t move.
Robin slowly sat up, and her golden gaze slid around the room, landing on each member of our court in turn. Then she very calmly, very quietly stood from her own chair. The fire in her aura swelled, a counterpoint to her soft, husky voice which belied her calm façade. “Fine,” she said evenly. “You may stay. Take some time to write down everything of value that you have to share, and who you got the information from, and I promise I will not harm you. Unless you give me reason.” A puff of smoke escaped her nostrils as she added. “But do be careful not to betray me. I’m not known to be the most forgiving person.”
Then our princess turned and walked to the kitchen door. She paused in the threshold and every member of our court held our breath, knowing we were in danger. “Yukio,” she said calmly. “Please look after Ruya and our new guest. I need to have a word with Sanka, Martina, and Dusek about loyalty.”
Then she left the room, her movements far too slinky and predatory for comfort.
Sanka let out an explosive sigh. “Fucking hell.” Then he strode out the door after Robin.
Martina’s entire posture was tense as she followed.
I glanced at Ruya one last time before I went off to be murdered by my alpha as well. She knew that we had all assumed she was about to harm Ruya—and all three of us had chosen to protect the witch rather than trust our alpha.