One Blood Ruby

  He sent her a sideways look that was full of questions, but they weren’t anywhere where answers were possible.

  “Abernathy,” the human detective said as he released Hector’s cuffs.

  Daidí didn’t deign to reply. He had a longstanding tradition of not answering the police in even the simplest matters if possible. It was well-documented.

  “Mr. Abernathy is here to collect his employee, who was wrongfully detained without proper due process,” the attorney supplied.

  “And what does Mr. Abernathy have to say about the burning of one hundred and eighty acres in the South Continent?” the officer continued, staring at Daidí, not the attorney, as if he could read some hint there. He wasn’t the first man she’d seen try to intimidate her father. It was sheer folly on their part every time. Nicolas Abernathy was implacable on even his worst days.

  “Fires are a naturally occurring event,” the attorney said mildly. “It’s an unfortunate thing that such a large area was burned, but nature can be unpredictable.”

  “If a fae-blood were—”

  “Are you accusing Mr. Abernathy of being fae-blood, officer?”

  The officer said nothing for a long moment, but then he relented and said, “We have seen the records. He was not fae-blood in the tests.”

  “Then you know he was tested voluntarily several times,” the attorney supplied smugly.

  “A man with his sort of reach could just as easily hire one of them.” The officer’s voice was dripping with hostility at the mention of the fae-blood. He gestured at Hector. “That one might not be, but I’m certain he’s harboring one of them.”

  Daidí turned away, steering her with him. Erik met his eyes and led the way, while Creed and Hector closed in behind them side by side. It was similar enough to how they’d walked in that it wasn’t drawing undue attention. However, the feel of the air solidifying behind her was clue enough that Creed was uncomfortable.

  Behind them the attorney prompted, “Are you filing any charges?”

  “Not presently.”

  “Keep walking,” Daidí ordered when she paused.

  Lily didn’t reply. There was no need. She kept her public mask in place, looking as bored as she could, and paused to wait when Erik opened the door. Typically, her father walked out first in case there was a threat. Today, he inclined his head toward the door and pressed lightly on her back to indicate that she should precede him. The threat behind them was reason enough for him to change his habit.

  Outside, he scanned the lot. The photographers had multiplied.

  Although it wasn’t particularly newsworthy to see Creed at a police station, seeing her and Daidí was rare, and seeing Creed at their side was still new. The journalists might not know what the story was, but they knew that there was one.

  Her father’s black car pulled up, and she glanced at him. In front of them, reporters called questions and speculations, their voices mingling into cacophonies from which occasional lines stood out.

  “Mr. Abernathy?”

  “Creed! Hey, Creed!”

  “Is Mr. Abernathy sponsoring a tour?”

  “Or a new line of clothes?”

  “Lily!”

  “You can do better!”

  Lily paused, not sure whether that last was directed at her or Creed. It didn’t matter. It was untrue either way. No one would love Creed as she did, and she was sure she was lucky to have his love. She reached out for his hand.

  “Raoul will ride with Erik,” Daidí said as one of his other guards stepped out of the front passenger seat of the car.

  Creed squeezed her hand in his.

  No one argued with Daidí. As Hector took his customary position at the door, Lily slid into the back of the long black car, followed by Creed, and then Daidí. Raoul escorted Erik to his little sports car, and they all left. Whatever remained to be done at the police station, the attorney would handle it.

  The driver didn’t raise the privacy divider, so Lily could see him and Hector both.

  Once the car was sliding into traffic, Daidí turned to her and said, “I would have thought that my order to not allow yourself to be arrested would make it clear that going to the police station was foolhardy.”

  Lily sighed.

  Hector turned around and looked at her. “You’re not to come after anyone. Even if you have Cerise—”

  “Who?” Creed interjected.

  “A gun,” Lily supplied. “That’s the word for gun. For us, at least.”

  “She’s not defenseless,” Creed said loyally. Then he asked her, “Can I speak freely?”

  There was no doubt in her mind that he was going to speak to her increased affinities, and she was certain that both Hector and Daidí were fine to tell. She darted her eyes toward the driver and then to Daidí, who wryly said, “Your aunt sent him to me. He’s loyal.”

  The driver looked in the rear view mirror and said, “Your majesty.”

  At his speaking, Lily realized that Creed was still shielding her or she’d have felt the driver’s fae-blood by now. She brushed past the solidified air that Creed had held around her and reached out her own air to study the driver.

  “You’re more fae than not,” she said after a moment. There were definite threads of air and sea clinging to him.

  “The princess thought your father might need a bit of looking after,” the man said.

  Nothing in the driver’s appearance spoke of otherness. His mannerisms and his voice were of this world, as well. Most fae she’d met so far seemed so different from humans. She was at a complete loss. “You seem human. If I couldn’t read you, I’d have thought you were.”

  He flashed her a wide smile. “The princess sent me here years ago. Clever at planning, she is. Most folk underestimate her. They see her as fragile, but she’s a fierce one.”

  “She is.” Lily was at a loss on how to proceed. Her father was . . . well, the parent. She was the one who was protected, and realizing that he was vulnerable because of her left her at a loss.

  “I will keep him safe for you,” the driver said, understanding her worries without her having to give voice to them. “As long as there is breath in me, he will be unharmed by those that question your rightfulness to lead our people.”

  His zealotry was unexpectedly comforting; in this case she couldn’t object to it. Her father might be safe in a lot of ways, but he was defenseless against a fae like Nacton or his devotees. She wasn’t sure why they would want to strike him, but she wasn’t as clear on the fae reaction to her new role as she needed to be. For now, though, she was going to stick to the practical.

  Lily shook her head. “I will be in your debt if you keep my father safe.”

  “No need, your highness. No need at all. The princess has seen to me and my family already. It’s an honor to serve you both.” He met her gaze again, gave her another wide smile, and then he returned his attention to the road.

  “Speak freely, Mr. Morrison,” Daidí said. “You’ve clearly got things on your mind.”

  Creed looked at her again, and she simply shrugged. If Eilidh hadn’t already told Lily’s father everything, it was only a matter of time until she did or Lily herself did. There was no reason for Creed not to fill her father in.

  And so he did. Everyone in the car listened as Creed recounted their fights in the Hidden Lands and her subsequent negotiations with the regents. Then he ended with, “Lily’s going to be the queen, and she’s already been given a sword by them. She’s going to be the one leading the fae, ruling the Hidden Lands, and she’s already crossed blades with the Seelie princes and brokered a peace treaty. Even without her affinities, she’s more than capable.”

  “And . . . my affinities are growing,” she added quietly. “I think it’s this.” She showed her father the crown, touching the tattoo so it lifted out of her skin and became a solid circlet. “Or maybe it’s being around so many fae and fae-bloods. I don’t know, but . . . Creed’s right, I’m not defenseless.”

 
Daidí leaned back in his seat and was silent for several minutes. She wasn’t sure whether it was disappointment or what in his eyes. Finally, he said, “I’ve never met your grandmother. I don’t relish it ever happening either. Your mother and I talked about all the ways we could hide you, and I wanted that. We both did. Then we realized you’d never been unknown. Your aunt knew. Eilidh always knew who you were, and . . .”

  “What?”

  “I like her,” Daidí said cautiously. “She’s all fae, though. She’s plotted for your discovery your whole life. We knew she was, that she was waiting to reveal you, that you’d end up in the queen’s sight. The best we could do was try to prepare you.”

  No one spoke. It was clear that Daidí wasn’t done even though he was staring out the darkened side window. He looked tired, and she could only hope that it was simply the jetlag wearing on him.

  “You look like your mother,” he said, turning back to her. “I understand from Eilidh and Torquil that you look even more like the queen.”

  “I do.”

  He nodded. “The Calvacantes torched one of my fields. They used a fae-blood to do it and were overt about it being fae related. No accelerant. During a storm that should’ve put out any fire. The only thing that would’ve burned that fast and hot in a torrential downpour was someone using an affinity.”

  “Why?”

  Daidí shrugged, wincing a little as he did so. “We don’t know. All we can say for certain is that the result is an international investigation that’s tying our businesses to the fae.”

  “Which will make them look at Lily,” Creed supplied.

  “There are people who can fix tests,” Hector pointed out.

  Lily stared at her father, who was looking at her warily. She’d never seen such an expression on him before. “Daidí? Are you okay?”

  “I was burned,” he said mildly. “During the situation . . . it’s tender.”

  “Let me see. What—”

  “No.” He took a deep breath and met her eyes, and in that instant, Lily knew that she didn’t want to hear whatever else he was going to say. She shook her head. Everything was so unsettled. Hearing more bad news wasn’t something she wanted, not even a little.

  “I needed water, and I haven’t . . . It’s been a long time since I called it.” Daidí looked at her as if willing her to understand him.

  “No. You’re not . . .” She didn’t want to finish, couldn’t even say the words that fit there. “You aren’t.”

  Lily’s father stared at her, his silence full of meaning.

  She stared back, hoping she was somehow misunderstanding.

  “Iana didn’t want me to tell you, Lily. You need to understand. Your mother might not have been raised by them, but she was still their daughter.” Her father smiled the proud and sad smile that he reserved for talk of Iana. “She was devious even in her sleep, you know. I wasn’t ever planning to be as successful at the business, but your mother had plans.”

  “You were burned because you used an affinity,” Lily said slowly, watching her father in hopes that he would laugh or explain or something.

  Creed gripped her hand tighter, but no one spoke. No one stopped Daidí. No one interrupted to correct her interpretation.

  “You need to understand, Lily. Iana thought it was best if you believed I was wholly human. She was always right. Everything we have came from her cleverness.” Her father smiled again, a sad little expression that usually made her want to hug him but in that moment, she was feeling more like smacking him.

  “But . . .”

  “Iana wanted the best for us,” he added.

  Words wouldn’t come to her as she looked at her father. She’d always known that her mother was fae, but she’d thought . . . she’d known her father was human. Feeling awkward in a way she never had, she reached out for his hand. She let her eyes close as she concentrated on knowing him, on finding what he was, or asking him to share.

  It wasn’t as obvious even now, but she could feel something there. It was muffled, though, as if a thick web was wrapped around him. Lily opened her eyes and frowned at her father. “You’re . . . like hearing a radio underwater. If I didn’t know . . .”

  Her words faded, but he finished them for her. “You’d never realize. Eilidh helped us. There was a healer who did something or other. It took a lot of years to make it . . . undetectable.”

  Being fae-blood typically meant being Seelie- or Unseelie-born. If Daidí was fae-blood enough to need to be repressed by a fae healer, he wasn’t one of the peculiar fae who lived outside of the courts. That meant that he was loyal to the queen or the king, and in some ways that was even worse than being human. It meant that she had more Seelie or Unseelie blood because of him.

  Lily knew which of her grandparents claimed his loyalty even as she asked, “Which court?”

  He looked at her, sighed, and said, “Not hers.”

  Creed muffled a curse. The driver raised his brows in surprise. Only Hector seemed unconcerned.

  “Holy Ninian, Daidí.”

  He offered her a wry smile, but no further words. There were none. When Lily took the throne, there would be more Seelie blood than Unseelie ruling the Hidden Lands. Eilidh knew that, knew that the queen wouldn’t allow it—just as she undoubtedly knew that it would come out in time. Lily had no idea what it would mean, but she knew she felt betrayed by her father, her aunt, and her mother. Anyone who thought it was a joy to be a royal heir wasn’t paying attention. Her mother had hidden from it, and her aunt had worked to replace herself with Lily.

  “Let me handle the Calvacantes,” Daidí said, “and if you need me to come to that place, I will. I’ve never met my . . . in-laws, but perhaps one of them will not hate me overmuch.”

  Lily snorted. She knew there wasn’t a perfect solution to the situation she was in, but she was still hurt that he’d lied to her. More than that, he’d gone so far as to deny a part of himself to do so. She felt like she’d stumble under the weight of how many people’s lives were tangled up with hiding her, protecting her, defending her, and hating her.

  “I loved your mother, Lily,” Daidí said steadily. “That meant trusting her. We spent a lot of time trying to make you safe, trying to prepare you, and I don’t regret any of it. She wouldn’t either. We both loved you enough to risk your eventual anger in order to keep you safe.”

  Lily sighed, but she couldn’t find any worthy words to even start to talk to him about how she felt. She was afraid and overwhelmed. Everyone was looking to her to be their savior, to know what to do. She didn’t have half a clue most of the time. It was easy for everyone to say that it would be fine, but the part that they failed to say out loud was “because you’ll make it so.” She had so far. She’d accepted her role as the daughter of the dead heir, and she’d brokered a peace between the worlds.

  Her father was a target. Her boyfriend was a target. Her friends were too. Somehow years of dealing with the criminal underworld was different from this new situation. The issues that would come with being the heir to the Hidden Throne felt heavier. Yet, they’d all conspired to make this very situation come to pass. Her parents, her aunt, the queen, the king, even Lily had been part of the long list of parties who had made choices that resulted in every single person she knew being in peril.

  “Lily?” Her father gave her the sort of uneasy look that didn’t belong on the face of a crime lord.

  She shook her head. All she could do was tell him the one thing that was unchanged: “I love you, too, Daidí.”

  twenty-four

  ALKAMY

  There weren’t any bad reasons that Alkamy was plotting to slip out of Zephyr’s bed when he fell asleep. He was wonderful, and the past few weeks had been the best of her life. She wished it could last forever, but having it at all was more than she’d expected. They had a few hours alone, and he was relaxed enough to sleep. Being entwined with him wasn’t going to help that happen.

  Even though his eyes were closed, his hand
s were sweeping over her body with the sort of surety that said he would know her from any other person. He knew her curves and hollows, her edges and her swells. They’d always been in sync like that.

  “What are you thinking?”

  He did that more and more, caught her at the edge of a thought she couldn’t share.

  “That I like days when they are all gone,” Alkamy told him. It wasn’t a lie. She had thought it, just not at the moment he’d asked. Zephyr spent a lot of time worrying about them, and so she spent time worrying over him and trying to ease his stress. The rare moments when he was at peace were amazing, more so now that they were allowed to be together as they’d both wanted for so long.

  “Vi’s still moody, but Creed is better . . . and sober,” she added. “It’s like he finally thinks he can do anything.”

  She kissed the place where his neck and shoulder met. It wasn’t about sex. Sometimes, they simply curled up and slept. Touching Zephyr was a lot like touching earth: it made Alkamy feel rejuvenated.

  Zephyr opened his eyes and looked at her. “Being in love does that.”

  It still made her heart flutter when he admitted even in the slightest ways that he loved her. The hint of it was enough to make her feel like some foolish child who had been given every present under the moon and stars for her birthday. Growing up, she wasn’t sure she’d ever had a birthday that was remotely satisfying. They were merely publicity stunts where she smiled for cameras, and her father pretended he had some part of selecting the presents she was opening.

  Alkamy kissed Zephyr again and whispered, “I love you.”

  And the planned nap was no longer an option. Sometimes being with him made her best efforts futile. Touching him was as essential as breathing, and kissing him until she was unable to speak was the best idea she would ever have.

  So she did just that.

  When they were finally quiet and still again, Zephyr was smiling as peacefully as he ever had. “Lunch? We could grab some things and have a picnic.”

  “We haven’t done that lately.” Alkamy knew they weren’t of the same court; there was no way she was anything other than Seelie-born. They did, however, share an affinity for earth. Picnics were an excuse to be together and close to soil and rock. “Back in ten.”