“It’s a wonder she survived the transfer,” said an unfamiliar man, voice ringing with derision. “We should leave her to die.”
If this was my father, we were off to a bad start.
The air of Eamhna was cool and slightly damp, carrying the flavor of the sea. A low, pulsing rumble signaled a nearby coastline, the sound distant, muffled by thick walls. I tried to open my eyes, but they felt sealed shut. The rest of my body was heavy and unresponsive. I fought panic, drawing solace from the pressure of a warm, familiar hand on my shoulder.
Lucian murmured, “She’s not dying. And she can hear you.”
“What do I care if the changeling can hear me? Let her. She doesn’t belong here, crippled as she is. The Blood Court accepts no weaknesses. The king will never allow her to stay.”
Not my father, then, but an asshole just the same.
There was a long pause. “Must I call upon the debt between us, Niall?”
Niall growled unfamiliar words, but their content was clear. “You ask too much.” A pointed silence, then, “Do you love her?”
I kept my breathing even and deep, while mentally bracing for the answer.
At length, Lucian said, “You cannot love a storm, I don’t think. You can fear it, be awed by it. Perhaps even worship it. But love? No.”
Niall was silent so long I almost forgot he was there. My ears still ringing with Lucian’s pronouncement, I barely caught the tail end of other Fae’s soft words. “. . . really who you say she is?”
“Yes. Airmed confirmed it. Three bloodlines. Sight, lóstre, and sanguis.”
Niall hissed. “That’s impossible. It’s long been extinct.”
My eyelids opened a crack, presenting me with the beautiful, alien face of a dark-haired Fae leaning over me. Deep blue eyes peered into mine, eyelids flickering as he noticed my regard. With thinly veiled contempt, he told me, “It would be better if you died now.”
I fantasized about punching him in the neck, but instead croaked, “Bite me.”
It was worth it to see the shock ripple over the elegant features, unhinging his jaw and lifting his dark brows. Lucian’s hand squeezed my shoulder, then withdrew. I turned my head toward him, relieved at the recovery of muscle control. Before I could ask, he said, “I couldn’t shield you from all the effects of the portal. I’m sorry.”
“Not your fault,” I mumbled.
Niall offered smugly, “You’re too human.”
I refused to look at him, focusing instead on Lucian. “Who the hell is this guy?”
He cracked a weary smile. “My half-brother by my father. Niall’s bloodline is of the earth. Lóstran.”
Magma.
My heart rate kicked up a notch. “Great,” I wheezed and rolled my head back toward Niall. “Sorry I told you to bite me. Please don’t open a chasm under me or turn my bones to lava.”
Niall studied me, eyes gleaming with humor and something a lot scarier that made me feel like a butterfly under a pin. Finally, he nodded. “Very well. In fact, I find myself intrigued.” He glanced at Lucian. “What did you want me to do with her, again?”
“Groom her for court and gain her an audience with the king.”
Niall cast me a doubtful look. “I suppose I could ask Muriel to assist. Unless it would grieve you, brother.” The last was said without any hint of sympathy, and I watched Lucian’s face lose what little color it had. The other Fae noticed as well. “You hadn’t heard, then? Two years we’ve been handfasted.”
“Blessings of Light upon your union,” Lucian said stiffly. “How long will it take to prepare her?”
Niall sent me another dubious look. “A day or two.”
Lucian stood. “You have one hour,” he said and strode away, disappearing around corner.
I sat up carefully, taking stock of the various aching parts of my body while Niall catalogued my weaknesses with a predator’s eye. I knew Lucian wouldn’t have left me with him if he was going to hurt me, but I didn’t exactly feel safe. He made my skin crawl with dislike, only partly because he was a jerk. Mostly, he was a living, pointy-eared reminder that I wasn’t Fae. Even had I been rocking high-voltage, I was sure Niall would have found me unfit in other ways. I didn’t belong here, in the land of my father, any more than I belonged in the human world.
“You’ll never be one of us,” said Niall archly.
Obviously my poker face needed work. I didn’t deny the statement, saying, “No biggie. It’s not in my five-year plan. Or twenty-year plan, for that matter.” His brow puckered in confusion, and I bared my teeth in a grin. “Clock’s ticking, buddy.”
“Buddy?” he repeated, baffled.
I swung my feet to the floor and looked around. We were in a spacious living room, its elegantly arranged furniture all constructed of ornately carved wood and brightly-colored fabrics, including the couch I was sitting on. Tapestries hung from stone walls, thick rugs dotted the floor, and flickering wall sconces cast wavering pools of light.
“Why are there no windows?” I asked.
Niall sniffed. “You know nothing of Eamhna, do you?”
I stared at him. “No, I don’t.”
He sighed, managing to convey disdain in a single exhale. “The Court is built into a mighty cliff bordering the sea. These apartments are deep within the mountain.”
Curiosity made me ask, “Who gets to live at the top?”
The Fae made even eye rolling look graceful. “The king, of course.”
“Of course,” I murmured, glancing up like I could see through a thousand tons of stone. “Do people live outside the cliff?”
“Yes,” he said crisply, “but we haven’t time for a history lesson, changeling. Up with you. I’ll have my servants draw you a bath.” He sniffed again. “You’re filthy.”
I didn’t disagree. Standing, I gestured for him to lead the way. “By all means, let the bathing commence.”
Niall stared at me a moment, expression somewhere between amusement and disgust. He muttered something under his breath that sounded a lot like, “Filthy human,” before sweeping from the room in a rustle of black silk and velvet.
Asshole Fae.