Chapter Twenty-Five

Brina greeted me formally, directing me toward a room with clean clothes on the bed and a shower in the adjoining bathroom. Seeing her behave toward me in such a businesslike way, without even a hint of a smile, was tough, but I kept my expression neutral and thanked her for her assistance.

I took advantage of the facilities and luxuriated in the pounding heat of the water, relaxing my very tired muscles and clearing my head. The familiar feel of the clean, soft fabrics against my body was a balm to my weary spirit. I ran my hands over the tunic. The latest in fae fashions would never be seen on the New York or Paris runways, but here it was perfect and practical.

Linn, Aedus’ daughter, had given me my first fae-style tunic for my fifth birthday. I’d balked at first, thinking a sword or a dagger or even a book about knights would have been much cooler, but when I wore it for the first time at her Name Day Ceremony, and saw all the males around me dressed in similar attire, I’d felt to be a part of something much larger than myself. When I found out about the monster who’d been my father, I’d denied my connection to this amazing realm. Today, I wanted to embrace it.

Hunter had disappeared as soon as we’d arrived, Samson had been taken away to be bathed and fed, and Sinlae was spending time with some local relatives. It was a decadent luxury to finally have some time alone, even if it was only to bathe and dress. I stood before the mirror, scraping together my courage and dropping every bit of my glamour. There would be no dishonesty between us. I was here to relay Khent’s plea that she return home. I would do as I’d been asked and hopefully gain the Goblin King’s trust and his pledge to support Faerie.

I’d tied my hair in a neat tail at the base of my neck, the light blond strands in stark contrast to my recently tanned skin. My purple irises were speckled with gold, probably a result of nerves. A lot depended on this meeting. The outfit I’d dressed in included a dark blue tunic with silver trim, a white shirt, and black pants. I pulled on my boots; pleased to see someone had shined them, then tucked my dagger into its usual sheath and took in three long breaths for good measure. I wanted to appear relaxed and look suitable to meet the princess.

When I was ready, I poked my head outside the door and was directed to an open archway on the first floor. I knocked once on the wall then entered, determined not to show any hesitation at all. Civility and confidence would hopefully win her trust, and I’d been schooled in the first and had walked through fire to learn the second. I smiled as I passed under the arch. I could do this.

My cousin was seated at an ornate desk in a large room with fancy chairs and vases full of beautiful flowers. Artwork covered almost every inch of the walls: portraits and landscapes, most of them painted from the same palate so they’d match the other items in the room. I didn’t thing HGTV would approve.

Zerian looked up when I entered, and as soon as I saw her face I stopped my forward progress. She looked so much like Fionna, the female everyone referred to as the bitch queen. I wondered if she sometimes hated her likeness to a monster the same way I did with Kennet.

She rose and walked around the desk, extending her hand. “It is such a pleasure to meet you at last.” I was surprised by the modern gesture. I’d been prepared to nod and she must have noticed my hesitation. “Is this not…” She started to withdraw her hand, unsure.

“It’s perfect.” For some crazy reason I clasped her very soft hand in mine and lifted it to my mouth, kissing it lightly on the knuckles. She giggled and her smile was the brightest light in the room.

I smiled back. “I don’t know why I did that.” Honesty, right? “Maybe I read too many books involving knights.”

“Perhaps you were delighted by my royal beauty,” she teased, fluffing her hair in a lighthearted way.

“Oh, yes.” I teased back. Only delighted didn’t really describe… Nope. Floored. Flattened. Dazed. This female glowed from the inside out, her golden and scarlet aura dancing with such beauty I thought I might be hallucinating. “Your aura…”

“You see it? The pureblood seelie cannot, unless they use additional magic, and most bother.”

“I’m only half seelie, like you.”

We stood there awkwardly for several heartbeats before she gestured toward two brocade chairs. “Will you sit, please?”

“Thank you.” I waited for her to sit, lowering my body into the seat across from hers when I saw she’d settled. Mom would be proud. Liam too.

She smiled again. “What brings you to this part of Faerie? I admit the palace is very beautiful, but unless you take the lines, it is far from King Finvarra’s Court.” She tilted her head. “Did you take the lines?”

“No. I walked.”

“From court?”

“No. From the vortex.”

“Oh. A week’s journey?”

“Less.”

“Did you arrive from the mortal plain?” Her expression grew wistful.

“Yes. I live there, not here.” I shifted in my seat, a little nervous. “I came to the palace to meet you and to deliver a message.”

Her large purple eyes widened. “A message?”

“Your father misses you.”

“You know my father?”

“Not well. I spent some time in the Unseelie Realm.”

She smiled, maybe seeing in my expression that I’d chosen not to say how I really felt. “And what did you think?”

“He is determined and strong willed.”

“And?”

“Loud.” I grinned.

She laughed. “And”

“He adores you and would like you to come home.”

Zerian lifted her chin. “How did he convince you to deliver this message?”

“Um…”

“Be honest,” she urged.

“Blackmail.”

“Now she was interested. She scooted forward and whispered, “What secret does he hold over your head?”

“Pfft. Nothing like that.” I relaxed into the chair, resting my right ankle on the opposite knee. “It seems as if the entire supernatural world already knows all my secrets.” I met her empathetic gaze, and was shocked to feel my heart rate double. “It’s more the opposite. I want something from him in return.”

“What do you desire?”

I looked away. “It’s not something I can talk about.”

“I hope he isn’t bargaining me away.” As soon as the words passed her lips, she blushed a beautiful shade of pink. My mind stopped working and my body took over. Her cheeks looked so soft. Soft enough to kiss.

When I felt my hands twitch, aching to find out just how soft they were, I slammed my shields into place and wove protective magic around my mind. Without a doubt, Zerian had inherited her mom’s charisma in a colossal way. Here I was, shields down, acting the fool, the way all those males like Hunter had when facing Fionna. This was powerful mojo.

I swallowed hard. “Would you mind dropping your glamour? I’ve been forced to put up shields.” Some of my irritation had hit its mark because she turned an even darker shade of pink.

“If I drop my glamour completely, you’ll get up and leave the room.” Her smile was full of bitterness. “The seelie prefer I look like them.”

“You don’t know me, yet you assume me to be so shallow? I’m part demon and part cheetah. I don’t exactly fit in either.”

“But in your true form you appear pureblood seelie.” She swept her hand to indicate my body. “I do not.”

“I look like my birth father—a sadist who murdered hundreds, maybe thousands. He tortured and raped my own mother.” I gritted my teeth and looked past her shoulder to the gardens beyond. “I look like a monster.”

She seemed to flounder for a moment, regaining her composure enough to shake her head, grabbing my attention. “There is nothing monstrous about you, Charles. You are a handsome young male.” I was about to disagree, when she held up her hand to stop me. “We are being honest, correct?” I nodded. I had to admit, my male ego was puffing its chest over her compliment.

Pathetic.

“Kennet did not look monstrous,” she continued. “He behaved in a heinous manner.”

“Tell the servants that. I think I gave a few of them heart attacks when I walked past them in the hallway.”

“They’ll get used to having you here. Remember, you’re the hero who’s going to save the day.”

I laughed. “Not likely.” I was desperate to see her true form, although I wouldn’t push her. “Will you walk with me?” I pointed toward the garden as I rose. “I’d like to get to know you. I’m discovering more and more how important family is.” Particularly this branch.

“I’m not… I don’t usually…”

“You aren’t allowed out?” That couldn’t be right.

“Only at night.”

Ridiculous. That just made the top of my list of things to discuss with Fin. I held out my hand. “They won’t even see us.” I winked.

“How is that possible?”

“Do you see the shadows the trees and buildings cast?”

“Yes.”

“We’ll become shadow to everyone around us.”

“This isn’t fae magic you speak of.”

“No. It isn’t.” But at this point I was past caring. She wasn’t being treated as an equal and I was furious. Telling her not to go outside in the middle of the day made no sense.

“Don’t be angry at them.” Her grin was infectious. “I would love to walk with you, Charles.”

I wove my fingers between hers; leaning a little closer to whisper, “They’ll see us if we lose contact. So don’t. Let. Go.

We strolled for an hour, keeping to the shadows as well as we could. I did my best to use my magic in subtle ways, but it was tough. Finally, I found a shady bench and we sat. “If you want to go home to your father, I’ll do my best to convince Grandfather to let you go.”

“He won’t agree.” She glanced down at her shoes, already giving up.

“I think he will. I have something he wants.”

“What?”

“Me.”

“You would exchange yourself for me?”

“Not my freedom, Princess, but maybe my services.” She was about to reply when I heard something. I pressed my free hand lightly over mouth. “Shh.”

Kaera walked by looking angry and determined. She seemed to be searching for something, or someone. Zerian and I smiled conspiratorially and I lowered my hand from her mouth. Her lips had been soft—very soft. Our intertwined hands were resting on the bench between us, encasing her in my magical glamour.

“Would I be allowed to come back? To visit?” She whispered, afraid Kaera might hear. “Grandfather wants to protect me. He does not understand that I am perfectly safe in my father’s realm. It would be wonderful to be able to travel back and forth when I chose to do so.”

“We’ll make it a condition of your release.” As if it would be that easy.

“How do you know so much about politics at such a young age?”

“I played with my toys at the feet of my father, Garrett, as he negotiated with vampires, werewolves, fae lords and witches. When I turned twelve, he dragged me to American Vampire Council meetings or Western Pack Council Meetings. Farrell and my other fae guards taught me to speak Fae, explaining the laws and customs of Faerie so many times I could recite them in my sleep. And I often had a chance to visit my friend Linn in the Cascade Sidhe. I’d practice my Fae and do my best to fit in as if I belonged there. It seemed to make them happy.” I shrugged.

“You were guarded?”

“Until a year ago, at least officially. Naberia wants me. They kept me safe from her.”

“Why does she want you?”

“My blood? My magic? My death? I still haven’t figured out exactly why Fin wants me. I’m not the superhero people think I am.”

“You do not see yourself truly.” She touched my arm with her free hand.

I shifted on the seat, embarrassed, but she didn’t remove her hand. I caught her gaze. “Maybe one day you’d like to visit my world.”

“The mortal plain,” she whispered, her voice awestruck. “You would invite me?”

“In a hot minute.” That had popped out in English. Her eyebrows rose. “Um…sorry. Yes, I’d invite you to my home.” I frowned thinking about the state of my small place. “Although, my mom and dad’s place would be much better. There’s lots more room and it’s cleaner.”

She giggled, then automatically covered her mouth with both hands, breaking the magic. Kaera was back.

“You have used demon magic?” Keara was horrified.

I stood, taking a step closer in challenge, and spoke to her in English. I didn’t want Zerian to understand my rant. “I used my magic. My magic is unique. It isn’t just one thing or the other, so get used to it. You’ll be seeing me using a lot of it around here soon enough.”

“You think so.” She stepped closer.

“I do.” We both took a breath. “Why isn’t Zerian allowed to walk in the garden during the day? She needs the sunshine.”

“She must be guarded at all times.”

“And you don’t think I can protect her?” I was much closer now. Kaera was six feet tall, but I had seven inches on her.

She grinned at me, an expression I didn’t often see on Kaera’s face. “Why don’t we spar?” she suggested. “If you are worthy, I will allow her to spend time in your company, within limits.”

Oh, I knew this would be a very bad idea, but there was something about seeing lovely Zerian looking excited at the prospect of watching me spar with Kaera that had my male ego polishing its armor and my blood pumping madly through my veins. Males throughout history had gone down in flames for just this reason, and yet, did we modern males learn from their past mistakes? Ha!

“Winner is the first who draws blood?”

“Two out of three,” she answered, smirking.

She wanted to cut me twice. I rolled my eyes. “Sadist.”

“Do you need to go over the sparring rules?” Kaera had shed her tunic, leaving her in a loose fitting beige shirt belted at the waist, leggings and boots. I stripped down to the same.

A crowd was beginning to form, including seelie guards, servants, demi-fey gardeners, and a few elves who’d been doing some construction on a nearby greenhouse. “Who sent out the word?” I asked, stretching my arms, shoulders and legs, then jogging in place to warm up my muscles.

She gave a bored shrug. “You are always being observed—the rock star of the mortal plain.”

I laughed loudly. “Hardly. But rock star? Kaera, there’s hope for you yet.”

“In our world, warriors are the rock stars.” She tossed her head to the side, her dark waves sweeping across her shoulders.

And she was one of the best, definitely a rock star in her own right. But I’d known this female my entire life and it was just too easy to push her buttons. I couldn’t resist. “Like Aedus?” She’d never once beat Aedus and it still drove her crazy.

She narrowed her eyes and spoke oh so quietly. “You will pay for that comment.”

“I’m counting on it.” I laughed.

We’d finished warming up, but before we could begin, a demi-fey flew into the clearing, speaking in a clear voice. “Ladies and lords, demi-fey and elves, I have the great honor to introduce Kaera, granddaughter of King Finvarra, Daughter of Lord Argon and Lady Ruenne, seelie warrior and favorite of our people.” Kaera smiled without showing any teeth, nodding majestically as the crowd cheered.

“I also introduce Charles Liam William Cuvier, Grandson of King Finvarra, Son of Jacqueline Grace Fitzgerald Crawford Cuvier and Garrett Corbin Cuvier, Seelie Warrior, Cheetah Shapeshifter and Demonspawn, the prophesized savior of Faerie.” An even louder cheer went up as people pushed forward to get a good glimpse of me. What a circus. I smiled and nodded the same way Kaera had, then pulled my dagger and faced her. The hilt didn’t warm the way it would have if I were facing a true enemy, yet it wasn’t going to wuss out on me either. Kaera pulled her dagger, one I’d seen her spar with on many occasions. A warrior of her caliber could use any of the usual fae weapons, but her specialty was a sword. On the flip side I was much more skilled with a dagger, particularly this one.

Rock star, she mouthed, tossing her blade from hand to hand.

We sized each other up. I had her beat reach-wise, but she was amazingly fast and sneaky and very smart. To win against her I’d have to anticipate her moves by watching each shift of her body, each flicker of her eyes. I’d listen for her heartbeat or breaths to speed up—just the way Sasha had taught me.

This was gonna be awesome. Or extremely painful. Or both.

Samson ran over to me, growling at Kaera. “It’s okay, boy. We’re not fighting for real. This is for fun.” I glanced at Zerian. “This is my dog, Samson. Is it okay for him to hang out with you during the match?”

Samson didn’t even wait for an answer. He loped over and sat right next to the princess, grunting in pleasure when she scratched his head. As usual he managed to get the best seat in the house.

“What a handsome boy you are,” Zerian cooed, scratching him right behind the ear in that spot he liked best. Samson was goofy-grinning again, probably ready to plop on the ground and reveal his belly for some additional scratching. “He is magnificent, Charles.”

Kaera and I laughed. “Your dog has an ego larger than yours,” Keara teased.

“Well deserved, I’d say.” Two other seelie fae had moved to Samson, petting and complimenting him.

“Can he fight?”

“He’s vicious when his people are in danger. Play your cards right and he might protect you too.” I winked and she shook her head.

“We begin,” Keara announced and the watchers grew quiet.

We circled, choosing a slow pace to start. I’d never sparred with Kaera, only Brina, my guard, Farrell, and recently, Aedus, as far as my fae trainers were concerned. Kaera’s blade was slightly longer, but mine was spelled to respond to my commands as if it were an extension of my body. I lengthened the blade to match hers and she laughed at me.

“Feeling inadequate?”

“I’d be stupid not to start out on even footing with a skilled warrior such as yourself.”

She laughed again. “Let’s see what you’ve learned from my sister.” Brina had sparred with me for many months and I missed those sessions.

While I was thinking of Brina and not focusing on the match, Kaera lunged and pulled away as fast as any vampire, spinning her body out of range of my counter lunge. I glanced at my left forearm. It was bleeding from a small cut. The crowd cheered.

Time to get serious. We sparred for another ten minutes, learning the other’s style.

“You are not using your magic. I thought you might decide to dazzle us,” Kaera said, while twisting her body to the side, hoping to throw me off balance.

“The victory would be meaningless if I did.” I scored the next hit by faking her out with a sudden twist and a low slash, using my long legs to advantage by tripping her and throwing her off balance. I’d managed to rip a hole in her leggings, exposing a shallow cut and a good deal of thigh. The crowd cheered.

“Where did you learn that move?”

“Isaiah.”

She ran a hand over the rip in her leggings, healing the wound but leaving the tear. “Are you flirting with me, Charles?” she teased, moving her hips in a very un-warrior like way.

Only a fae would consider a slash to the thigh as flirting. “You are lovely, Lady Kaera, but I value my life too much to take on another of the famous warrior sisters.”

She looked disappointed for only a sec, until she flipped her blade, banged me on the head with the hilt and knocked me on my ass with a boot behind my knee. My forehead began bleeding instantly.

“And Kaera is proclaimed winner,” the demi-fey male announced. When the cheering calmed, Keara nodded at the crowd then extended her hand to help me rise. She did a couple of sweeps across my back and shoulders to help dust me off, checked my wound, then surprised me by nodding with her hand over her heart. “You are a worthy opponent, Charles, and I would be honored to spar with you again and fight beside you in the war to come.”

This time she wasn’t teasing, and what she’d said—loud enough for everyone to hear—was a sincere complement. Grateful for the support, I nodded the same way in return. “Thank you, Lady Kaera, for the lesson and the fun.”

“Perhaps you will teach me the sneaky moves your demon has taught you?”

I was sure she meant to use them against Aedus. “My pleasure.”

She touched my forehead and I winced. “I believe your princess is concerned about your very serious injuries,” she teased.

“She’s not my princess. Lets not get carried away.”

“Not yet.” Kaera clutched at my shirt and pulled me closer, kissing me soundly on the lips. She grinned mischievously as she stepped away. “That should help,” she whispered, winking at me before she walked away.

Wow. I didn’t know Keara had a single funny bone in her body. Guess I had to fight her to find it.

Most of the crowd followed her, laughing with friends, exchanging money from bets, lost or won, and chatting with latecomers who wanted to hear about what they’d missed. There was such a contrast between these fae—with their gardens and water and magic intact—and the elves I’d met, starving by the side of the road. Something more had to be done for the rest of Faerie.

A cool wet cloth brushed against my forehead. “Blood is dripping on your shirt. You must clean your wounds and heal yourself.” Zerian scolded, a furrow appearing between her brows.

“Does the sight of blood disturb you?”

“No. But your pain does.”

“Ouch,” I teased. What I was feeling at the moment was definitely not pain.

She pulled away, anger brightening her eyes. “Now you are mocking me for behaving as a caring family member.”

“Forgive me Princess Zerian. I’m enjoying your gentle attention and would wish it to continue for as long as possible.”

A single drop of my blood dripped from my chin to her palm, glistening there. She seemed mesmerized by it, her eyes growing wider. She blinked and with a quick motion, wiped it away with the rag, throwing the cloth at me. I caught it against my chest. “Why are you teasing me so?” she snapped.

I was as shocked by my words as she was. “Truth?”

We stared at each other for another moment. She turned speaking softly. “Perhaps it is wiser to return to the house. The light is dimming. A storm is expected.”

We walked silently down the path, the mood between us awkward and electric. Ozone was in the air and the clouds moving in were dark and ominous. I took her arm and flashed us into the sitting room just as rain began to fall. After a minute or two, the showers become torrential, the wind bending the trees and tossing around many of the new blooms the demi fey had nurtured to life.

I’d flashed us into the middle of the room, but Zerian immediately moved to the floor-to-ceiling windows, fascinated by the storm. When lightning struck a small tree in the field she gasped, her entire body tightening with excitement. Her hands clutched the folds of her skirt, her shoulders rising almost to her ears. She laughed when a seelie fae ran past the window completely soaked to the skin and then gasped again when thunder rang over the land and vibrated inside our chests.

I’d moved to the side, watching her and not the storm. Here was a female who kept herself tightly in control at all times, afraid to allow her true spirit to roam free. This burst of excitement—the lowering of her defenses—was like the storm, fleeting and breathtaking, and I couldn’t have pulled my gaze away from this lovely creature even if the king himself had ordered me to.

When the worst of the storm had passed, she turned, her composure back in place, although she couldn’t hide the flush in her cheeks. I wanted to hear more of her mischievous laughter and get to know this playful side.

She sighed, moving toward a piano positioned in a corner of the room. “That was glorious.” She slid onto the bench.

She played well, but as her fingers danced over the keyboard, her excited flush dissolved and a melancholy took its place. I settled in a comfortable chair to listen to her play and glanced out the window, happily surprised to see a rainbow. “Look.” She turned my way and followed the direction of my pointing finger to stare out at the spectacular scene.

“It’s lovely, but I prefer the storm.” She twisted back to resume her playing, her mind focused on her music, a mournful piece in a minor key. Her dark eyes were glittering with intensity, her full mouth twisted in concentration. Her wavy dark hair was loose around her shoulders.

It seemed I preferred the storm as well. I closed my eyes. Now was really not the time to crush on a female, particularly another fae female. I’d just started to get past my argument with Brina. But Zerian, oh man, Zerian was…

I stood suddenly, meaning to move to the window, or anywhere out of range. I’d locked my shields down tight, which meant she wasn’t able to weave her charisma charms around me. So what the heck was this?

There were a few other instruments in the corner. I picked up a guitar, hoping to occupy my mind and maybe get her to smile. I fiddled around with the tuning pegs, plucking at the worn strings. She finished her piece and I asked, “May I play you a song, now?”

She stood suddenly, her body stiff and her expression almost pained. “I am sorry, but I must change for dinner. You will join me, I hope.”

I rose also, putting down the guitar. “Thank you. I will.” She nodded briskly and left the room. I watched her leave and shook my head in puzzlement, picking up the guitar and lowering my body onto the piano bench she’d vacated. Something was bothering her, but I couldn’t read her well enough to get a feel for what it might be. I plucked at a few strings, finding a rhythm at last. At least I had something to occupy my mind while I waited.