Bronwyn had been a surprise. But if Bronwyn had somehow bonded with a fucking Death Lord, he might just be in trouble. Perhaps that damn prophecy had been about his niece’s husband and not his niece.
“Why didn’t you kill him?” Surely his hags could do something about it now that they knew what the real problem was.
“I tried, Your Majesty. It would have worked but some filthy gnome got in my way. I couldn’t hex him again. The first one took too much and now he’ll be ready for it so all I got to do was kill a damn gnome. But I’ve come up with something else. His necromancy only works on creatures, Fae and animals and other somewhat sentient beings. So I intend to attack him with something he can’t take control of. I just need to find him. I believe he’s in the forests. He’s going to move toward Aoibhneas. It’s how he got in.”
Yes. He didn’t understand that, either. “How the fuck did he get in? I have guards on the entryway.”
The two hags shared a long look before Una answered. “There are always small rips and tears. A smart Fae would be able to get through.”
“I don’t want anyone to be able to get through.”
Una took a long breath. “Your Majesty, it is impossible to tell where these weak spots are unless you happen across one. And that village wouldn’t have told us. It keeps its secrets.”
Yes. Aoibhneas was the perfect fuck storm. High in the mountains with both natural and magical defenses. And the Fae who lived there were rebels by nature. He’d kept them contained with heavy guards on the roads and a long history of leaving them be, but he would come for them and they had to know it. Aoibhneas would be the logical place to launch a rebellion. But it was small and so isolated.
What if the Unseelie decided to invade?
“You have to kill him.”
“That is my plan. Now I just need to find them. I stole back to the village and found what I believe is her hair and his blood. The intellectual half was there. I don’t have anything from him, but if those two do anything magical, I can find them.”
Torin stared down at the shit on his desk. It better do what was expected. It better lead him to his niece and her husband.
One way or another someone was going to die. And he was going to wipe that fucking town off the map.
Chapter Seventeen
Two days later, Lach wondered if he was ever going to get home.
Roan finally called a halt to the day’s march. He’d been on his feet for days it felt like.
And he’d never felt better.
“I’ll go set up.” Shim gave him a smile. He was eager to get the night started, but Shim was thinking about the sex and not the forlorn look that Lach kept seeing on Bron’s face.
She was exhausted. She was confused. And there was a core sadness that was killing Lachlan’s soul. The last two nights she hadn’t even fought them. She’d come to the bed they made and offered herself up. She’d made love with them, shared her blood and her body. She’d submitted in the loveliest of ways.
And it wasn’t enough because every time he offered her the true bond, she’d retreated. He looked over and she stood by a huge tree, her back leaning against it. She stood apart from the group. She hadn’t simply retreated from the true bond. She’d retreated from everyone. Bronwyn answered all questions in two or three words. She didn’t even look at Gillian, a fact that seemed to add to his sister’s misery.
If he didn’t need Roan, he might kill him. Except he’d overheard Roan and his lieutenant talking the night before and he’d really watched them all day. Their every move was about Gillian’s safety and comfort. Their talk the night before had been a long, slow dialogue about how to tempt Gillian into giving them a chance.
He understood Roan and Harry. Damn it.
“You’re hungry?” She wouldn’t let him carry her through the forests. She wouldn’t let him shield her. At least she accepted that he could feed her.
She gave him a wan smile. “I am.”
He nodded and moved away, walking up to Roan. They were running out of supplies. They were running out of time. And every village they stopped in, his wife insisted on riling up the villagers.
And it had been fairly easy since the villages were empty of guards. They were all patrolling around Aoibhneas now, a phalanx Lach wasn’t sure they could break through without some loss of life.
Roan looked up from his tablet. “Can I help you, Your Highness?”
“You can tell me when we’ll be able to get my wife home. The Seelie princes are due here any day now. You know that they’re just waiting for a big enough hole in the wall to come through with an army.”
“I’m doing my best.”
It was said with Roan’s clipped efficiency, but something about the way he said it made Lach suspicious. “Tell me why we’re moving the way we’re moving. Aoibhneas is in the opposite direction.”
Roan’s eyebrow raised and his mouth turned down. “Every time we attempt to move to Aoibhneas, we get cut off by the guard, Your Highness. We talked about this last night. We’ve moved from village to village in an unorthodox path in order to deceive the guard as to where we are going.”
“We’re not deceiving anyone since you allow my wife to be put on display. She’s making speeches. She’s making herself a target.”
“She’s building her brothers an army.” Roan looked over to where Bron stood. “She needs to feel like she’s a part of this. Can you not understand that?”
“He’s right, Lach. You can’t understand.” Duffy stood at his side. “You don’t know what it means to want to fight and not be able to. I know I’ve played around, but we all know I wouldn’t be able to do anything at all on the battlefield except let warriors trip over me.”
His brother’s sorrow made Lach’s heart clench. He’d never meant to make Duffy feel that way. And he’d certainly never meant for… He wasn’t going to think about that moment in anything but the broadest of terms. “You saved me, Duff.”
“By throwing my body in front of a cloud.”
Gillian got to her knees in front of Duffy. “You saved Lach with more than your body.”
Gillian’s words were a bit shaky. Lach was rather glad to see it. She’d been as shut down as Bronwyn for days.
Duffy flushed and looked toward the ground. “It pretty much felt like me body.”
“It wasn’t your body that made you leap in front of that cloud. It was your strong, brave heart.”
Duffy shook his head. “I ain’t brave, Gilly. Not for a second.”
She put her hand out, lifting his face up to hers. “How can you say that?”
“Because I ain’t never said the thing I wanted to say. I won’t say them. I’m small and insignificant. I know how Bron feels. She wants to fight, but no one will let her. They’ll pat her on the head and tell her she’s doing fine. They might let someone train her so’s she doesn’t complain too much, but when it comes down to it, she’s not going to be allowed to fight.”
“Damn it, Duffy. It’s not the same. And I was just trying to protect you. Can’t you understand that? I didn’t want you to die.”
“But, Lach, there are some things that are worth dying over. Haven’t you figured that out yet? You would die for Bronwyn. Do you think she’s less a woman than you are a man? Do you think she doesn’t want her life to matter?”
What the hell was Duffy talking about? Didn’t he understand that everything he’d been doing was about how precious Bronwyn was? How precious he himself was?
He was about to answer when a little trilling alarm went off and Roan’s whole body shifted to full alert. He had a sonic blade in his hand in an instant, and he and Harry pulled Gillian behind them.
“I have alarms set up all over. I placed them before we settled into camp. It could be a deer or it could be Torin’s guard. The last village said their guards had been pulled out just the day before to hunt for the princess.”
Lach was happy to see Shim hauling ass back to camp. He grabbed Bron and forced her behin
d them.
Dante walked in, his hands in the air. Kaja was at his side, in her wolf form, her delicate nose in the air.
A large man was behind Dante. He was at least Lach’s height at six foot five. He had an Unseelie look about him, and Lach would bet he wasn’t a pure sidhe. Emerald-green eyes and pitch-black hair made a stark contrast to Dante’s reddish blond.
“Dude, I told you we’re not Torin’s guard. I showed you my fucking fangs, man. I’m a desperate vampire looking for a consort. Do you know any? Because I will pay.”
Kaja growled a little.
“I’ve learned not to believe everything a person says. People lie, even when they have knives to their backs.” The dark man looked around. “You have women here. Why the hell do you have women here?”
“I’m ridiculously wealthy. I keep an entourage with me, even in faery forests. The men are here to ensure my safety and the women are here to do what women do.”
Gillian huffed. “As if I would touch you, Dellacourt.”
The dark man stiffened. “Dellacourt? Are you one of the vampires who’s related to our kings?”
A little laugh came from the trees above. “Yes, he is, Master Zane. He’s the billionaire playboy turned fairly ruthless political advisor. And the wolf beside you is his wife.” The phooka. Of course. It was chaos. Naturally the phooka showed up. It was in its tree form, hanging upside down from one of the low branches. “I believe I mentioned we could call them allies.”
Dante breathed a deep sigh as the man named Zane let him go. “I was giving into Kaja’s need to hunt when this asshole jumped me. When did the lemur thing start talking? You know we’re in a faery forest. It’s really best to shoot anything that talks and ask questions never.”
Lach felt Bron trying to get a good view, but he wasn’t certain anything had been settled yet. He blocked her, unwilling to expose her at all.
Zane sheathed his incredibly large knife and looked at Dellacourt. “So all that talk was bullshit. You don’t need a consort. You have a wolf.”
Kaja changed, her transformation so quick if he blinked he would miss it. “He has a consort, though after calling my friends cheap women, he might not get his meal tonight.”
Dellacourt shrugged out of his jacket and wrapped it around his wife’s shoulders. “I am sorry, lover. They are very expensive prostitutes. Is that better?”
“Much. One would always rather be expensive. Queen Meg taught me that.”
“Too bad she didn’t teach you to bite the people who pull a knife on me.”
Kaja shook her head. “He wasn’t going to use it. He’s protecting his son. And someone else. There are still two more out there. I could smell them. They’re afraid. And on the run. Fear is easy to smell.”
Zane turned back to the forest. “Nathan, you can bring Charlie out now.”
A second man, this one slightly shorter but just as fit, his brown hair curling over the edges of his tunic collar, walked out of the woods carrying a young man in his arms.
“I told you I would bring you to safety,” the phooka said.
Nathan struggled a little with the body in his arms, but he seemed resolute. “You told us you would take us back to Aoibhneas.”
Shim moved forward. “You’re the Harpers’ friends. The one whose boy was taken by Torin.”
Bron moved, sidestepping Lach and slipping toward the newcomers. Gillian moved, too, though Roan and Harry did nothing to stop her.
“She’s very good with white magic,” Roan said. “Why don’t you bring the child over here to the bed?”
Roan tossed the cube to the ground and in an instant it was a full-size air bed. Nathan gently laid his son on the top. The boy looked to be more of a young man, roughly fifteen or sixteen. He was malnourished, his body a mass of gangly arms and legs.
Nate put a hand on his son’s head, smoothing his hair back. “He was taken when we brought our wine to the marketplace. We’re isolated. We hadn’t heard that Torin was laying claim to all bondmates. Honestly, we didn’t know he could bond.”
“The mayor told us he could.” Zane stood over them both, his eyes worried.
Nathan’s lips turned up in a little smile. “The mayor is insane and he told us Charlie could bond because of that device Caleb made for him to track Planeswalker demons. Please excuse us. Our mayor is a brilliant warrior, but he’s deeply preoccupied with what he calls the coming Demon Invasion. Anyway. Zane and I were haggling and then Charlie was gone. He’s been missing for two years. If Torin is selling bondmates to vampires, why wouldn’t he feed our son? Wouldn’t a vampire want a healthy mate?”
Roan stared down at the boy, his mouth a harsh line. “Your son is certainly a consort or what you would call a bondmate. I see his glow as clearly as the female consorts here.”
“And any vampire would be horrified at his condition,” Dellacourt assured them.
Lach felt a building rage. Torin hadn’t meant to sell this boy. No vampire would accept that his consort had been treated in such a way. “I’m not a full vampire, but I know for a fact that the one way to have gotten the council to enter this war was for word to leak that consorts were being abused. They would have invaded.”
Gillian kneeled by the bed, laying her hands on the young man. She closed her eyes and seemed to be calling on that part of herself that worked magic. “He’s been fed upon, but not in any way I understand.”
Lach’s stomach turned. He remembered the vision the hag had sent him. “The hag. She’s been eating at his soul.”
Nate made a low moan of pain and clutched his son’s hand. Zane turned a stark white.
“What does it mean?” Zane asked.
Thank gods his smarter half liked to study. Shim folded his arms across his chest. “It’s not as bad as it sounds. Hags, even some non-corporeal dead, can feast on the living. What I believe she’s trying to do is absorb his psychic power.”
“She wants to be able to bond?” Bronwyn asked. “Why?”
Shim shrugged. “I don’t know, love, but it would explain the ritual of soul eating. It would take a long time. She would have to drain him over a couple of days or weeks. She would take his blood, withhold food and water. She would torture him. Anything to break down his resistance. The body needs a soul. It would rather die than go without one so she has to be careful. If she simply killed him, the soul would go wherever souls go.”
“Through the door,” Duffy said. Lach felt his heart twist as his brother, his little champion, spoke. His small hands clenched together. “There’s a door and light. It calls to a soul, tells you to go through, that more adventures are waiting, just waiting past that door.” He shook his head and a deep breath filled his lungs. “Or that’s what I’ve heard.”
Shim looked at Duffy, suspicion clear in his eyes, but he continued anyway. “She has to bring him to the brink of death, little by little so the soul hovers, unsure whether it’s time to go or not. And she catches it and consumes it in a ritual. I’ve only read about it, of course, but technically it should give the hag any powers the soul contained. Consorts and bondmates have measurable psychic energy. I’m sure that makes her spells more powerful.”
“She’s making up for the lack of three.” Charlie’s eyes opened, his voice strained.
“Don’t, son,” Zane said. “Rest. We’ll have you home to your mother soon.”
Charlie’s head shook. “Already feel a little stronger. How did you get into the dungeon?”
“Believe it or not, a sluagh guided us. He knew how to sneak in.” Nate gripped his son’s hand. “I know this sounds crazy, but he looked just like the old king.”
Bronwyn sniffled a little. “My father. I was told he fought to stay even after he died. He’s still fighting for his kingdom.”
A kernel of guilt opened inside Lach. Duffy’s words echoed in his ears, but he wasn’t going to let them sway him. Bronwyn needed to be safe. Duffy needed to be safe. It was better than any cause.
Charlie’s head turned at the
sound of Bronwyn’s voice. “It’s you.”
She smiled, a little sadly. “I am Princess Bronwyn. I am so sorry I haven’t done anything to help.”
“No. Not the princess. You’re the voice. You’re the voice in our heads. Goddess, I can’t believe you’re real. Can’t you all hear it? Do you hear the hum?”
Kaja walked to the bed. “I have heard it for days, but Dante thought it was all the vampire technology.”
Gillian’s eyes turned down. “I’ve heard it since the day I met her as a girl. But it was faint. Just a hum in the back of my mind until the last few days.”
Lach closed his eyes, the enormity of what his wife was hitting him squarely in the chest. He didn’t want to be sure, but he had to. “Bronwyn, think something.”
She glanced at him, confusion on her face. “I am almost always thinking something.”
Shim seemed to understand immediately. “Think something at Gillian. Specifically. Try to get her to hear you.”
Bron turned toward Gillian and her brow set in a serious line.
Gillian, Kaja, and Charlie all winced, each holding their heads. “You don’t have to shout.”
“Sorry.”
“And I don’t think I’m old enough to hear those words,” Charlie said, his face looking boyish for a moment.
Kaja gave her a smile. “You should use a sharp knife, Bronwyn. A rusty one will cut off your husbands’ manly parts very slowly.”
“I think she was hoping to cause a little pain, baby,” Dante said.
“Well, I don’t see why they would stand there and allow their little men to be sawed off with something dull,” Kaja argued.
Shim looked at Lach as the others seemed to laugh and find Bron’s power curious, but Shim had a grave look in his eyes. “You don’t think she could do other things, do you?”
“I hope not, brother, otherwise she would be a powerful weapon. I also think I know why the hag is doing it.” The thought had occurred to him almost immediately.