FIFTEEN
The fairy was talking to a unicorn.
Amused despite the effort of maintaining a shield spell to hide himself, Parker lay still on his belly. The whole situation reminded him of boyhood hunting trips in the Georgia mountains years ago, when his father had taken him bow hunting for deer. He’d learned to move silently and stay downwind of his prey on pain of his father’s fist and his own hunger. Venison had been a welcome relief from the endless hamburger and macaroni that was all the family could afford. He’d taken his first buck at the age of ten.
Odd, he thought, how the thrill of killing never dimmed. Particularly now that he was hunting men.
Or a reasonable substitute, anyway.
“What am I going to do, Ahern?” the fairy moaned. She’d grown to full size, and now she was draped across the uni-corn’s bare back. The thin, filmy gown she wore draped deliciously over her ass, baring legs that were surprisingly long, though he doubted she’d have made five feet in heels. “He’s going to marry that little bitch, and there’s nothing I can do about it.”
There was a lot of power in those two. Parker could almost feel it, despite the shield that kept them from sensing him. If he could kill them…
“’Tis just as well,” the unicorn said, in a deep, sonorous voice, like James Earl Jones playing Mr. Ed. “Thou hast no business coming between thy Liege and his duty. And taking a Maja to wife would smooth his path to an alliance with Avalon. An alliance he doth need.”
Parker snapped to full alert, silently cursing the time it had taken to work his way close without being overheard. It sounded as though they were talking about Grayson.
But that was impossible. She’d barely been at the palace a day. How could she have wormed a proposal out of some fairy king that damn fast?
The fairy lifted her glowing pink head. “But she’s tied up with Geirolf, Ahern! There’s doom hanging over her. I can feel it!”
“Doom for thy Liege—or thy hopes?” the unicorn asked. “They are not the same, much as thee may wish t’were different.”
Hell, they were talking about Erin! Parker ground his teeth against a vicious curse. This was all they needed. If that little bitch got herself a powerful fairy ally, there was no way Lord Geirolf could touch her. And to make matters worse, she and Reece had probably already alerted the Magekind, which meant the whole plan had just slid right down the tubes.
Fear slid over him as he imagined his master’s reaction to that bit of news. Would it be possible to slip away before Geirolf found out?
“But Llyr loves me, Ahern!” the fairy said, interrupting Parker’s frantic thoughts as she sat up on the unicorn’s back. “And he doesn’t care at all for that bloodless little human.”
The unicorn heaved a deep sigh. “Thou wert always the most stubborn of my pupils. Have I not told thee that a king must follow his duty and not his heart?”
Hmmm. It sounded as though this Llyr had a thing for the little fairy. Now, that was an interesting piece of news.
Interesting enough, in fact, to save his ass.
Thoughtfully Parker reached for the gun that hung in his shoulder holster. With the absent skill of long practice, he pulled back the slide and extracted the bullet from the automatic’s chamber.
He thought he might have just enough magic left for one last spell.
Erin was going to accept Llyr’s proposal.
Reece felt oddly numb as he watched the king lift her knuckles to his mouth and press a kiss there. He hoped a little viciously Llyr could smell his scent on her skin.
How could she do this to him? She’d responded to him as sweetly as any woman ever had. Yet ten minutes later she’d risen from the bed where he’d had the best sex of his life and cut his heart out without batting an eye.
Well. It seemed she’d become a Maja in every sense—all power-hungry ambition, just like all the other witches, with a heart locked behind a wall of ice.
He wanted to hit something. Preferably Llyr’s perfect fairy nose. Bastard.
As Reece felt his muscles knot with the need to strike out, a ray of self-awareness pierced his jealous anger. Look at him. He’d always felt such contempt for men who couldn’t accept a woman’s rejection. Yet here he was, acting just as much the asshole as all the other needy bastards he’d ever looked down on. He had to get this under control.
Much as it hurt, Erin had a perfect right to choose whomever she wanted. He’d taken his best shot at changing her mind, but it hadn’t worked. Now he was just going to have to suck it up and get on with business.
Reece heard the low murmur of her voice and looked around to see her blond head bend toward the king’s. Pain stabbed into his chest. Somehow he managed to bite back the grunt, like a man taking a hard blow to the balls.
He’d lost every woman he’d ever wanted, ever needed, from his wife to Sebille. He’d thought Erin would be different.
It seemed he’d thought wrong.
Janieda pressed her face to Ahern’s silken hide and watched a tear roll down her nose to fall to the ground a long way down. The unicorn was old and wise, and he’d been her confidant since her childhood, when he’d taken on the task of tutoring her in the finer points of magic she’d had no patience for. For centuries there’d been no pain she’d felt that his calming presence couldn’t soothe.
Until now. Now, when she felt a chilling, unfamiliar presence she’d rarely experienced in her long immortal life.
A presence she suspected was death.
But whose? Hers? The king’s? Or merely, as Ahern believed, the death of her childish dreams of having Llyr for her own?
“I can’t believe you don’t feel it,” she said into his warm mane. Unlike a mortal horse’s, it felt like silk beneath her cheek.
Ahern’s great barrel chest rose and fell between her legs. “I have never had thy gift of sight.” Then he hesitated.
Something in his silence made her lift her head. “But you feel it anyway. Don’t you?”
“There is something,” the unicorn admitted. He gave his horned head a toss. “Mayhap ’tis only that thy unease has spread to my spirit.”
“You know better than—” Janieda broke off, sensing the sudden presence of something evil, like a death stench on the wind. Ahern sidled in fear under her. She jerked herself upright on the unicorn’s back, glancing around wildly.
A man rose to his full height from the shelter of a tangle of brush. He grinned at her.
Recognizing his species, Janieda relaxed, though Ahern’s haunches bunched under her as he prepared to leap away. “Oh, it’s only a human. It doesn’t even have any magic.”
“Now, there,” the human said, lifting something and pointing it toward her, “is where you’re wrong.”
The thing lurched in his hand before it belched fire and smoke with a dragon’s roar. Ahern threw up his head with a sharp whinnying squeal, one of the few times in his long life he’d ever sounded equine.
Then they went down. Sheer instinct had her shrinking to winged form and flying clear. Janieda looked down, frantic, to see the unicorn lying in a tangle of long legs. “Ahern!”
To her horror, she saw a long, glittering rope of energy winding from him toward the human. The creature was stealing Ahern’s life force as he died! But she could stop it, she could heal him….
Even as she started to throw a healing spell over him, Janieda saw the human gesture. A wall of light appeared before her eyes. Her spell splashed off it.
Wings beating frantically, she spun to see herself surrounded by a globe of force—swirling Mageverse energies. She flung herself at the curving shell, only to tumble back in agony as it repelled her. “No!” Janieda screamed. “Let me save him!”
The human strolled over to scoop her energy cage up in one hand. “I’m afraid I’ve got other plans for your magic than wasting it on a four-legged hat rack.” He examined her through the field with such gloating satisfaction she folded her wings and sank into a cringing ball. “Lord Geirolf is going to be real pleased to see you.”
Geirolf? Her eyes widened as the full horror of her situation rolled over her. Gods, had she brought on the very destruction she’d tried to avoid—just as she’d doomed Ahern?
Fear chilling her, she looked down at her old friend’s cooling carcass and let the tears flow for him.
And herself.
In her misery, she barely noticed when the human used his stolen magic to transport them. Numbly Janeida watched through the shimmering walls of her cage as the Mageverse melted away, replaced by cold, dark stone. The magic here was so thin, she suspected he’d transported them to mortal Earth.
At first glance she thought he’d taken them to one of the human cathedrals, given the towering granite walls and stained-glass windows. Then she realized there was nothing holy about this place.
The windows depicted images of sex, torture, and death, while the walls were decorated with profaned Christian symbols cut into the black stone—pentagrams, inverted crosses, the swirling glyphs of magical wards designed to keep anything good away. Every few feet, goat’s heads hung on the walls like torches, thick red candles driven onto their horns.
“What?” The roar of rage brought her jerking around in her cage, her wings beating in agitation. A demonic creature that could only be Geirolf rose from a black marble throne to tower over the cringing Parker. “Llyr means to wed the bitch? And you allowed it?” He lifted a clawed fist for a blow Janieda knew would tear off the human’s head.
Parker threw up a hand to protect himself. “But you can turn this to your advantage, My Lord! I have a plan!”
The demon stayed his fist. “Speak quickly, then.”
Through a fog of despair, Janeida listened as the human told Geirolf how he proposed to make use of her. Her tears became tearing sobs.
But this time she cried for Llyr, the man she loved. And whose doom she’d sealed.
“This…has possibilities.”
Parker relaxed, knowing himself safe as the towering demon form shrank down to that of a man. Thoughtfully Geirolf turned back to his throne and dropped onto it, bracing an elbow on the marble armrest. Looking closer, Parker saw human shapes carved into the stone, writhing in either agony or fornication.
Geirolf must be feeling more confident in his power if he’d taken the time to create this temple to himself, though the Satanist symbols were probably intended strictly to impress the mortals. Parker wondered how many women he’d had to sacrifice to both work the creation spell and shield the results from the Mageverse. He wished he’d been there to watch. He’d always enjoyed a good sacrifice.
And Geirolf had a real flair for the theater of murder.
“Yes, I do think this could work.” His master gestured, and the fairy’s cage floated to his hand. Parker watched as Janieda’s colorful wings fluttered in agitation. “You do seem to have found a prize. I suppose you’ve won the right to keep your life after all.”
Parker didn’t dare even flick an eyelid in reaction, though he wanted to remind the demon lord that none of it had been his fault. He knew that was completely irrelevant.
It was, however, a good thing he still had plenty of magic left over from killing the unicorn. He had a feeling he might need it, if only to defend himself from his master’s uncertain temper.
With a thought, Geirolf sent Janieda’s cage spinning in the air as he contemplated it. The little Sidhe hunkered down, spreading her wings for balance as she watched him like a canary eyeing a cat. “Logically, Llyr will have already notified Magekind about my plans, which is a problem. But if your suggestion works and I can get my hands on the vampire and his bitch, I can work the spell and destroy the lot of them anyway.”
“Avalon won’t take that lying down,” Parker dared to point out. “They’ll try to launch a counterattack before you can finish.”
He shrugged. “I hope they’ll hold off a little longer. They’re still working on breaking the spell on the Grimoire, which is a good sign. And my forces are almost ready. Once I finish transforming them all, they’ll be able to battle the vampires on equal terms.” Geirolf rose to his feet. “Or almost. They won’t be a match for both the Majae and the vamps, but all they have to do is delay them long enough for me to complete the spell.”
Parker trailed after him as he moved to fling open a set of double doors and led the way out onto a balcony overlooking a courtyard. Below, men and women waited in ten long, snaking lines to reach one of Geirolf’s priests. At the head of each line, an acolyte knelt before the priest and was offered an obsidian cup.
As Parker watched, a woman drank the draft the priest held to her lips. She took one swallow and choked, then fell back in convulsions. Writhing on the ground like an epileptic, she kicked and shrieked as all the color leeched from her skin. Inside her screaming mouth, her canine teeth lengthened to fangs.
At last she rose, her skin as waxy as a corpse. The hungry look she turned on the mortals in line made them flinch before the priest drove her away with a crack of magical energy. She retreated, snapping her fangs at him like a dog.
“I got the idea from Merlin,” Geirolf said idly, “Though I don’t believe the original ceremony with the Knights of the Round Table was quite this dramatic.”
Parker looked around to see that his lord held a cup that matched the ones the priests held down below. “Now,” Geirolf said. “It’s your turn.” He smiled slowly. “My loyal lieutenant should partake as well, don’t you think?”
The agent licked his lips as fear stole through his guts on a wave of ice. For a wild moment, he thought of transporting himself back to Washington and forgetting the whole thing.
Then he took the cup.
Erin sat at Llyr’s right hand and took another mechanical bite of whatever exotic dish the Sidhe had laid before her now. They might have saved themselves the effort; she tasted none of it.
Her eyes were focused on Reece as he sat across the table from her, his handsome face as cold and impassive as if he’d turned to ice. She’d used her magic to dress him in the courtier’s clothes the other Sidhe wore. She wasn’t surprised the stark black velvet doublet with its silver embroidery only enhanced his rough beauty.
“It isn’t easy to serve duty when the one you love does not understand,” Llyr said in a voice pitched for her ears alone.
She blinked and looked around at him. “I beg your pardon?”
He smiled a little bitterly and took another sip of his wine. Glancing down at his plate, she saw he’d eaten as little as she had. “I know too well how you feel. Janieda flew out of here in a rage when I told her you were considering my proposal.”
Erin stared at him. Now, there was a twist she hadn’t expected. “You’re in love with Janieda?”
Llyr shrugged. “We’ve been lovers for the past century. Unfortunately, however, she would not make a good queen.” His lips quirked again in that bitter smile. “Too passionate.” Lifting his cup toward Reece, he added, “Like your own lover there.”
“Reece understands duty perfectly well,” Erin said tightly. “He’s been Champion of the United States for more than two hundred years.”
“So long?” Llyr’s eyes twinkled at her over the rim of his cup, and she found herself wondering if she was being gently mocked. Quite probably, considering how long the Sidhe lived. “But there is a deal of difference between obeying the common dictates of obligation and doing that duty when your heart cries for mercy.”
“I am well familiar with ignoring the demands of my heart,” Reece said suddenly. His challenging gaze met theirs.
“Your pardon, Lord Reece,” Llyr said, then murmured softly to Erin. “One gathers vampire hearing is even more acute than that of the Sidhe.”
Reece smiled in a cold stretch of the lips. “I’m a spy, Your Highness. I eavesdrop for a living.”
The king’s gaze hardened. “And evidently you do it well.” To Erin he added, “As do others, I’m reminded. Walk with me. I find myself in need of privacy.”
Erin felt her heart give a convulsive thump. He was going to ask her for her answer now. She managed a nod and rose to her feet.
At least she’d dressed for the occasion. Her own court gown was a brilliant red, embroidered with gold and glittering with gems, chosen to set off her blond hair and pale skin. She’d tinkered with the design for half an hour, trying to get it just right. Erin knew she would never be a match for any of the Sidhe in looks, but at least she could make the best of what she had.
The rest of the table rose with the king, Sidhe lords and ladies fixing them with polite attention. Llyr waved a royal hand at them. “Finish your meal. I wish to have a word with my lovely guest.”
As he turned and strode from the table, Erin followed at his heels. Her mind spun in frantic circles like a dog chasing its tail. Should she do this?
An image flashed through her mind—the pain on Reece’s face when she’d told him she planned to marry Llyr.
If she told Llyr yes, she would never again know the dizzying fire of the vampire’s touch, the hot pleasure of running her hands over his strong body. She’d never again taste Reece’s mouth or feel the erotic sting of his fangs. Or the heavy thrust of his cock.
Everything in her rebelled at the thought of giving all that up.
Yet if she said no to Llyr and stayed with Reece, they could still end up dying at the hands of the Round Table. To say nothing of Geirolf’s.
And even if they met those challenges, what about the ones that would follow? If she loved Reece this much after three days, what would it be like after three centuries?
With a little spurt of shame, she remembered his taunt that her plan to marry Llyr had more to do with fear than a need to protect them both. Maybe he had a point. Was she playing a fool’s game? Was she courting misery in agreeing to marry Llyr when they both loved someone else?
Then the Sidhe king turned to face her, breathtakingly handsome in his court garb. When he reached out both big hands, she placed her own in them.
What the hell was she going to do?
“What is your answer, Erin?”
She opened her mouth. And realized she had no idea what she was about to say.
But before she could speak, light flashed in the corner of her vision. Erin spun and stepped back, automatically reaching for the gun she no longer carried even as Llyr stepped in front of her.
A tiny glowing cloud appeared in midair a few feet away. As they watched, it dissolved, revealing Geirolf’s deceptively human-looking face. He smirked at them from the projection. “Oh, dear. I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”
“As a matter of fact,” Llyr said as he created a spell shield around himself and Erin with a snap his wrist, “you are.”
“Yes, I know.” The demon’s grin revealed a mouthful of razor-sharp teeth that would have put a Rottweiler’s to shame. To Erin he added, “You have been a busy girl, haven’t you? Fucking your way into the Gift with a vampire, then worming a proposal out of the King of the Sidhe. Your work ethic is impressive even by my standards.”
“What do you want, Geirolf?” Llyr growled.
“Actually, it’s what you want. I’ve acquired something of yours, and I suspect you’ll want it back.”
The king lifted a brow, his expression silently communicating skepticism that Geirolf could possibly have gotten his hands on anything important. “Oh?” His tone was as bored as his face, yet as she stood next to him, Erin could feel his gathering tension.
“Yes, though Erin may be just as happy to have her gone.” Geirolf’s face dissolved into an image of Janieda, curled into a miserable ball inside a globe of yellow light. She straightened convulsively, an expression of desperate hope on her face, as though she could see them looking at her. Her lips shaped Llyr’s name. “After all,” Geirolf continued in that suggestively oily tone, “it could be awkward sharing the palace with the mistress.”
“If you’re about to propose I trade Erin and Champion for Janieda, I suggest you reconsider,” Llyr drawled, though Erin felt him stiffen. “A queen for a consort seems a poor bargain.”
“Only to a man far more shortsighted than any Sidhe king could ever be,” Geirolf said, his image replacing Janieda’s. “Consider, if you will, the question of who will be the power in the Mageverse with Avalon gone. You—and your brother. And with my help, soon only you.”
“You propose an alliance?”
Geirolf inclined his head. “It could be advantageous to us both.”
“Then again, perhaps not,” Llyr said coolly. “My people have a saying: He who allies himself with a dragon may well find himself eaten.”
The demon waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. “I have no interest in conquering your kingdom. My taste runs toward richer and less complicated pickings. Bluntly, mortal Earth would be far easier prey. Since you have no interest in those quarters, perhaps we can arrange a treaty: Mageverse Earth and its Sidhe for you, the mortals for me.”
Llyr looked at him a long moment. “It could be an advantageous arrangement.”
Erin threw him a shocked glance. The king prided himself on his ruthless pragmatism, but would he really sacrifice Reece and her if he thought it would benefit his people?
Oh, sweet Jesus, he just might.
Geirolf’s gaze was fixed hungrily on her. “But before any treaty can be made, I must have the vampire and the witch. They are the key.”
“I will think on it.” He lifted his hand.
“Llyr!” Erin burst out.
“One hour,” Geirolf said quickly. “You have that long to agree, or your lovely Sidhe consort will find herself the centerpiece of a ceremony she won’t enjoy at all.”
Then he winked out.
“You aren’t seriously considering allying yourself with that monster?” she demanded furiously.
“Shh!” the king snapped, his hands describing a complicated pattern in the air.
Belatedly remembering her own powers, Erin quickly reached out with a spell. The next instant Reece stood beside her as she erected a magical shield around them both.
“What’s going on?” he asked, tensing.
“Geirolf captured Janieda and has threatened to kill her unless the king turns us over to him,” Erin replied tightly. “And he’s offered to help him defeat his brother.”
Reece looked at Llyr. “And you’re considering this?”
The king shot them a cold look through the glowing barrier she’d created. “Now you’re being insulting. Do I look fool enough to enter into any bargain with Geirolf? I’m only strengthening the palace wards against any attempts to eavesdrop.”
Erin glowered at him suspiciously.
Llyr sighed and opened his arms. “Here. Read my intentions, then.”
Cautiously she reached out to him through her shields. He let her no deeper than the surface of his thoughts, yet still she could clearly read that he wanted nothing to do with any offer of the demon’s. With a sigh of relief she dropped her shields. “It’s all right,” she told Reece.
“As if I’d deal with any creature who’d kidnap and threaten Janieda,” Llyr growled.
“Would someone please bring me up to speed,” Reece demanded impatiently.
“Erin can explain it to you,” Llyr told him. “I must put my guards on alert and find out how he got his hands on my consort.” He swept from the room.
“Janieda’s his consort?” Reece snorted. “No wonder she was so hostile.”
“Hostile or not, she doesn’t deserve Geirolf.” Erin outlined the situation for him.
He swore. “Are you sure he isn’t tempted? That deal would solve an awful lot of his problems.”
“And leave me with one far worse,” Llyr told them, stepping back into the room with a parade of Sidhe courtiers in tow. “As soon as he’d eliminated Avalon and my brother, he’d turn his sights on me. I have no desire to see my people enslaved by such a creature. Assuming he allowed me to even live that long.”
“The nasty thing about Geirolf is, he probably would,” Erin said. “He’d want to enjoy your suffering.”
“But if you will not deal with him, what of Janieda?” asked one of the advisers, a delicate brunette woman in an elaborate iridescent court gown. She looked about forty, which given Sidhe aging rates would make her very old indeed. “You dare not let him sacrifice her. You do not know what spell he would work.”
“I wouldn’t do that in any case,” Llyr said. “The question is, how to rescue her?”
“The obvious thing is to set a trap,” Reece pointed out.
Erin nodded as she met the king’s eyes grimly. “And we all know what the bait must be.”