A Thief of Nightshade (34 page)

Ian took her right hand and wrapped his arm around her as he whisked them into the dance.

“Are you sure about this?” Ian asked.

“I have to get his attention. Unless you have a better way of getting him to ask me to dance. You could distract the Queen by asking her to dance.”

Ian shook his head.

“I don’t blame you. Okay, here goes nothing. If things go wrong,” Aubrey waited until she had Ian’s eye contact to finish, “thank you for everything.”

Ian exhaled and clutched her hand to his chest, but didn’t respond.

Aubrey had never been terribly good at anything, though some said she could sing well. But if she had to say what she most enjoyed, it would be dancing. She’d taken ballet all through her childhood and for a few years as a teenager but soon the call of extracurricular activities and then college overshadowed her interest and it had faded. Now, with the wild, unchecked beauty of the Winter Court, the night’s otherworldly event unfolding before her with dreamlike creatures, and resplendent scenery that even the best set designers couldn’t have conjured, she remembered why she’d loved it so very much.

So with more enthusiasm than she’d thought she could muster, she ignored the danger and threw herself into the sway of the strange music. Ian could barely keep up and eventually relinquished his hold on her to another Fae who’d kindly asked to step in.

He was taller than Ian and matched her pacing beautifully and when she felt he would take her lead, she began a more complicated series of spins and jumps that ended with him hoisting her into the air and turning her gracefully as he set her back down. As the song ended, everyone clapped and cheered for them. Several Fae stepped up to vie for the next dance, but as the music momentarily faded, she realized

how

intently

Jullian

was

watching her—and how close she’d come to the Queen. Dread flooded her.

What have I done?

Jullian rose to his feet and stepped down to the dance floor, all Fae moving out of his way as he walked up to Aubrey.

He bowed his upper body as he held out his hand. “May I have this dance?”

She wanted to throw her arms around him, but held her emotions at bay as he reached for her and wondered if she shouldn’t turn away now, before Saralia took notice of her. Despite the chill in the air, his skin was warm as he closed his hand around hers and swept her to his side.

No, this is the only way.

They moved away from the Queen to the center of the room, for which Aubrey was grateful. The music, as soothing as a lullaby, slowly began to ease her fears.

Jullian

took

the

hand

he’d

held

outstretched and moved it to his shoulder, then pulled her closer to him with one arm fast about her waist. With the other, he traced the outline of her mask, and then brushed her jaw with the back of his hand.

She closed her eyes, relishing his touch and the feel of his heart beating against her.

Jullian cupped her chin in his hand and leaned to whisper in her ear, “Such warmth in your eyes. Don’t close them.

Please.”

She opened her eyes and after a long pause he continued, “But there is something else there, too. This is a night for celebration, not mourning. Why do I sense such sorrow?” The innocence in his voice, the compassion in his expression, even the amusement on his lips as he tentatively smiled all made her feel weak and yet, the small flame of hope that had begun to smolder earlier now licked hotly at her soul. This was Jullian. This was her love. The Prince who had unknowingly rescued her now looked with those luminous eyes through the bars of a gilded cage. And she’d be damned, her own life forfeit, before she would let him lose his light to Saralia.

“Because the one I love, with everything that I am, is wounded and he doesn’t even know it.” Tears finally welled in her eyes.

Jullian tilted his head. “You’ve far too sweet a face—”

“To ruin it with such a sour pout,”

she whispered.

His hand stopped its gentle caress of her back and his lips stilled in question.

Remember

me,

remember

me,

remember me ... please wake up!

She placed a hand on his cheek and smiled, all the while silently sobbing.

With the other she removed her mask. It wasn’t recognition she saw in his eyes then, but it was emotion and that was enough for her.

He took her face in both of his hands.

“Who are you?”

She leaned up to catch his mouth and softly brushed her lips against his. Then, when he didn’t pull away, she wrapped both arms around his neck and deepened the kiss. Her crying grew desperate then, as she heard the voice of the Queen and felt the swell of the court’s dismay.

Jullian suddenly dropped his hands from her face and pushed her away from him. She clung to his arms and reeled against the rejection.

“Jullian look at me, it’s Aubrey.

Remember me. Please, you have to remember me!” She fought hard as several male Sidhe grabbed a hold of her.

“Jullian!”

“I’m sorry.” He stepped out of her reach, whispering, “I don’t know you.”

Saralia laughed behind them, “Oh, Ian! You didn’t tell me how easy this would be for you. I was under the impression there would be some level of difficulty involved. Seems hardly fair. I assume you have the Oran?”

Aubrey struggled against the Sidhe, to no avail. A gag was placed over her mouth and her hands were tied behind her back. Her gaze remained fixed on Jullian.

But as she heard Saralia address Ian, she watched in horror as he pulled from his coat pocket the Dragonfly Oran. Ian refused to look at Aubrey.

Jullian watched in silence.

Saralia smiled, motioning for two tall male Sidhe who stood nearby to approach her. Then she pointed to her left.

“There, in the blue. And bring her companion along as well. It appears Ellohim isn’t punishment enough.”

Ian’s once-brave face turned white the moment the mask was removed from the Fae in the blue dress. It was Given, along with a very human Aislinn. Their wings

dissolved

as

they

were

apprehended.

“You swore,” Ian said. “I did as we agreed and you promised that she would be safe. This wasn’t—”

Saralia laughed. “Save your pleas, Ian. I said I’d never let anyone hurt her ever again and I intend to keep my promise.” Saralia sauntered to Given, her smile fading for just a moment as she looked over the Shade. After a tense moment of silence between the mother and daughter, Saralia tore the leather bracelet off her arm. “There won’t be anything left of her to hurt when I’m done with her.”

“No!” Ian screamed and rashly dove for the Queen, only to meet a blade to the back before he could reach her.

Saralia motioned for them to release their hold on Given, who had cried out as Ian was struck.

Given caught Ian as he slumped over a few feet from the Queen. “Why would you do this?” she sobbed.

Ian opened his mouth to reply, but his eyes glazed over and he fell limp in her arms before he could.

“You evil bitch!” Aislinn roared at the Queen. “Jullian, wake up! Look at Aubrey, look at me! You know us. I’m your brother, she’s—”

Saralia clapped her hands, amused as Aislinn was struck mute by the Queen’s power. “That’s enough of that, Ellohim.

What a show! I might have drug this out a bit had I known it would prove so ...

entertaining. Such a shame, Ian was a handsome one—for a lesser.” She turned her attention back to Aubrey.

“And you, such a pathetic display.”

She stepped close enough that Aubrey could see her skin glisten with moonlight.

She touched the false wings at Aubrey’s back, shattering the illusion like a spider’s web. “I see my daughter has taken it upon herself to bear your wounds?” She shook her head. “That just won’t do at all.”

As Saralia whispered, the Time Wraith’s wounds on Aubrey’s back swelled to life and the most excruciating pain ripped through her back, leaving her slack and breathless in the guards’ hold.

“You knew what you were getting into by walking so brazenly into my court.

I don’t believe for a minute that you were stupid enough to think I wouldn’t expect you. You were arrogant enough, however, to think that it wouldn’t matter if I did.

Allow me the pleasure of correcting you.”

Aubrey turned her gaze then from Saralia, who was taking great pleasure in her pain, to Jullian. She expected the same cold, emotionless face that she’d seen moments before to look back at her then.

Instead,

just

before

she

lost

consciousness, she caught a fleeting glimpse of doubt.

Aislinn didn’t have much to be grateful for. For starters, he was soaking wet from the chest down. They had been thrown into a well of sorts, how deep he didn’t care to guess. He couldn’t be sure how much time he had left as a man and he didn’t have the first notion as to how they were going to get out of this predicament and find Aubrey. Given had fought so hard against the Sidhe as they took her that she’d managed to get herself knocked out cold.

He knew Shades were delicate, but had Given just kept her mouth shut ...

He held both of them up with his feet braced against one wall and his back against the other, Given in his arms.

She moaned as if she’d heard his musing.

“About time. You know we really should talk about when to admit you’re outnumbered.” He hadn’t been entirely certain that Saralia’s spell had worn off, but his voice came easily enough.

She bolted upright. “She has the Oran. Saralia has the Oran.”

Aislinn paused to regain the footing that she’d jolted loose. “I was there, remember? It’s unfortunate, but nothing we need to worry about right now.” He tried to get her to look at him, to see the words he couldn’t say aloud for fear of being overheard. She wasn’t paying any attention to him.

“Nothing we need to worry about?

Aislinn, do you realize what...”

He took her chin with his metal hand and directed her to face him. “We can’t do anything about it right now.”

She seemed confused, but clearly knew he was trying to tell her something.

Suddenly, her eyes lit up and she seemed to understand. “Oberon?” she asked. He nodded and she looked away, letting it sink in.

When she didn’t say more, he whispered into her ear, “Saralia will never lay hands on it. I’ll destroy it if I have to.”

Given had tears in her eyes but didn’t grant him any more than a terse nod to acknowledge what he’d said.

“Hey, listen, we’ll get out of here,”

Aislinn cooed. “We got out of Koldavere didn’t we? I mean ... I did have to rescue you.”

“Shut up, you big oaf. You would have torn off my head had I granted you the chance.”

He shrugged. “You don’t know what I would have done. How can you when I don’t even know what I would have done?”

She rolled her eyes and changed the subject. “This water is deeper than it looks.”

“Hmm, perhaps.” Without thinking it over, Aislinn dropped his feet and tightened his arms around her, letting them momentarily sink. Given gave a muffled cry and threw her arms around his neck, her heart rocketing so hard in her chest that Aislinn could feel it. He laughed, merely because he’d meant the move to lighten the moment so they could relax enough to figure something out. She didn’t seem to see the humor in it. In fact, she was too angry to speak.

“Oh, lighten up a little. I’m not...” It dawned on him then how insensitive he’d become to human, or in her case, Shade emotions. She wasn’t angry–she was frightened. She held onto him with bruising force. He moved one hand to run it through her damp hair and laid his cheek against the top of her head. “You can’t swim, can you?”

“No,” she whimpered, “and I don’t want to hear some smart-ass remark about needing to learn.” She took a couple quick gulps of air.

Aislinn smiled at the way she clung to him, yet fussed at him all the same.

Merrial had been tightly bent on never showing emotion of any kind, be it fear, or need or affection, save when she had nightshade in her system. She’d reminded him of a perfect painting—beautiful but one-dimensional. Given, on the other hand, was real and unapologetic. She challenged him, fought him for every point she made and held no shame at all in reaching for him, having faith that he’d be there when she did. It reminded him of the way she’d kissed him; sweetly, yet with all the passion and fire in the world. She was mad at him all right, but there had been no question on her lips when they’d touched his. She knew he’d respond. And lord, how he’d responded. He laughed again.