Bloodline (13 page)

He pressed his body against Micah’s, his mouth so close that Micah had to breathe the air the king exhaled. “I will not lose this crown. It’s mine by right. It’s been in our family for generations. My great-grandfather was king, then my grandfather, and my father after that. I’m his only son. The rightful heir. I will not have some fuckwit like you rob me of what’s mine.”

A scream slid from Micah’s mouth. The pain in one of his wings had increased to the point he thought he might pass out. The king moved back, and Micah saw the reason for his agony. Oberon held a knife in one hand and a sliver of wing in the other. He pushed it into his mouth and chewed, his eyelids fluttering in pleasure.

“Would you like a taste?” Oberon laughed.

He’s not just a sadist. He’s crazy.

A few more violent slashes, and Micah’s left wing hung in ribbons. Intense pain blinded, deafened, and ultimately defeated him. He wanted to die. Oberon was going to kill him anyway.
Just let him do it.

The king rubbed his thumb across Micah’s tightly pressed lips. “No. You’re not going to die yet. I’ve not had nearly enough pleasure. There’s far less enjoyment in the actual killing, compared to what comes before. You’re too delicious for me to end this quickly.”

“Fuck. You,” Micah managed.

“I think you’ll find it’s the other way around.”

There was a knock on the door, and Oberon called, “Come in.”

When the door swung open, a slender blonde woman stood on the threshold, a gray wolf at her side with a silver collar around its neck.
Oh hell, is this Jayne Hart?

“Ah, I thought you were someone else, my queen. This isn’t for your beautiful eyes. I’ll come and see you later.”

“What are you doing?”

“Carrying out a punishment.”

She stepped past Oberon and moved closer to Micah. He could barely breathe, but what was the point of appeal? What could she do? But maybe seeing him would give hope to the wolf. She was definitely a shifter.

Know that you’re not forgotten, that your family knows where you are and my boss sent me to help
. He couldn’t tell her that but hoped she understood it, even if that help was currently in hopeless need of assistance himself.

“He must have done something very bad.” The queen’s face paled as she looked at Micah’s wings.

“He did. He told terrible lies about me. This punishment will be a warning to others.” He ushered her back to the door. Out of sight of the king and queen, the wolf turned and stared at him for a long moment.

After the shifter and queen had gone, Oberon didn’t close the door, and Micah sensed Inigo was close.

Cavan pulled the vampire into the room by a silver choke chain wrapped around his neck. Ryn followed, carrying the tattoo equipment, and two other faeries transported the couch.

Emotion welled up in Micah. Guilt that he’d dragged Inigo into this, relief that the vampire hadn’t crumbled to ash, and regret that he was back in Oberon’s clutches. He was bare-chested, his pants in tatters, his skin smudged with dirt but no longer burned.
Thank fuck for that at least.

INIGO COULD HARDLY bear to look at Micah. Pain was etched all over the faerie’s face, along with blood. And his wings…
Oh shit
. He twisted his head to confront Oberon.

“You sadistic fucking monster,” Inigo snarled. “What the hell are you doing to him?”

Cavan yanked on the chain and jerked Inigo to his knees. The silver bit into his neck and sent ripples of pain racing through his body.
I could touch silver before. Why not now?
Maybe it was because all his strength was being used on healing. The burns on his skin had faded, but the pain remained.

“All but Cavan leave us,” Oberon said. “Ryn, go and keep your sister company. See that she doesn’t disturb me again.”

When Ryn hesitated, a low growl rumbled from Oberon’s throat. “Don’t disobey me.”

Ryn hurried out.

“I bet you were such a lovely child,” Inigo said. “Tore the wings off butterflies, drowned kittens, and blew up bullfrogs until they exploded. All before breakfast.”

“I had much more fun than that.” He ran his gaze over Inigo and sneered. “You stink.” He glanced at Cavan. “Do something to improve his odor.”

Cavan yanked him into the corner by the chain. “Take your clothes off—what remains of them.”

“What? On our first date?”

Cavan scowled at him. “Won’t be such a smart mouth when I slit it from ear to ear.”

Inigo was happy to get rid of his clothes, but he had the flask in his pocket and since the idiots hadn’t noticed, he needed to hide it. He removed his shoes, which weren’t badly damaged, and ripped away what remained of his pants. As he balled the material, he slipped the flask inside one of his shoes.

“Stay where you are,” Cavan said, and a moment later, Inigo was drenched in icy water.

He looked up, but the water came out of nowhere and disappeared into nowhere. Hard not to be impressed, and it actually made him feel better, which was kind of weird. By the time the water stopped flowing, Inigo was clean. Cavan tossed him a dark shirt and pants, and he dressed again, the material clinging to his wet body. He slipped the flask into his pocket without anyone seeing.

Oberon stripped. “Now your presence is more tolerable, you’ll do my tattoo again. As an incentive to get on with it, Cavan will be sharpening his knife on what’s left of Micah’s wings.”

Fuck
. “Then I won’t do it.”

“Would you like me to tell him to start with Micah’s cock? He’s skilled at skinning deer. I don’t think he’d have much problem with that little piece of meat.”

Cavan laughed and grabbed Micah’s dick.

“Okay, okay. Lie down. I’ll set out my equipment, but leave Micah alone.”

Inigo’s brain was sluggish, probably thanks to the silver around his neck and the ongoing repair of his body, but he frantically tried to think what to do. He could probably cut Micah down before the faeries were on him, but to free his feet, break the iron, pull the bolts out of his wings? How could he do all that? Plus there was the little problem of the silver around his own neck. Maybe if he drank the unicorn blood first? But he wasn’t sure he could be fast enough.

He wiped Oberon’s back with rubbing alcohol. Not a single mark remained from his hours of work. He managed to sneak the flask out of his pocket and onto the work table without anyone seeing. If he could, he’d refill it.

“My hands are shaking. I need this silver off my neck,” he mumbled. “I don’t want to muck up your tattoo.”

Oberon hesitated and then nodded to Cavan. Once the silver had gone, Inigo rubbed his neck, and Cavan’s hand clamped around his, squeezed, and lifted.
Bloody hell, he’s strong.

“Don’t fuck this up,” Cavan growled. “It’s your last chance. Make a mistake and I’ll slice off another strip of that arsehole’s wing. Find a way to make the tattoo stay on the king’s skin, or the faerie will lose his balls.”

Inigo nodded, and Cavan released his throat. He worked as fast as he could, filling containers with ink, adding the unicorn blood and surreptitiously refilling the smaller flask.

“Get on with it,” Oberon said.

“Don’t rush me. I’m an artist.”

Micah howled as Cavan sliced off a piece of his wing, tossed it down, and ground it into the floor with his heel. The second slice, he ate.
Oh fuck
. Inigo leaned over the king’s back. Because he’d done the exact same thing before, he didn’t need to mark out the shape. He used a combination of his airbrush and tattoo gun to color the king’s skin and give him the impression ink was going under his skin. Micah cried out as Cavan ripped away another piece of wing.

Inigo straightened and grabbed the large bottle of unicorn blood. “Stop torturing him or I’ll throw this on the floor.”

“Put it down gently, or I’ll cut off his balls.” Cavan trailed his knife down the line of dark hair on Micah’s belly.

“No, no, don’t. Okay, I’ll keep going, but if you put me under stress, I can’t work properly.”

“That’s enough, Cavan,” Oberon said. “You can play with him later.”

Bending low over Oberon, partly to hide what he was doing and partly to make sure he did the best job he could, he worked with the smallest gauge brush, taking care to ensure the color didn’t bleed and making each detail of the dragon-bird as precise as he could. When there were no more cries of pain from Micah, he relaxed. Though not completely. He had no idea how he and Micah were going to get out of this. He was afraid to finish working on Oberon’s back, but the longer he delayed, the weaker Micah would become and the more likely they’d start to torment him again.

He finally gave up trying to think of a way out of this for both of them and switched off his equipment.

“Done?” asked the king.

Inigo nodded.

Oberon stood up and turned his back to Cavan. “Well?”

“Much as I hate to praise anything done by that irritating leech, your back looks magnificent.”

Oberon grinned. “Give him his reward.”

“Absolutely no need for a reward.” Inigo frantically tried to come up with a better plan than biting the king and sucking hard.

Cavan moved behind him, and Inigo swiveled round trying to keep both him and the king in his sights.

“Look out,” Micah mumbled but in that moment of distraction, the king loosed a wooden bolt that flew straight into the left side of Inigo’s chest.

Shit. Hello, floor. Meet nose.

Inigo could hear howls of rage and pain and grief coming from Micah, and wanted to add his own, but he was temporarily—he hoped—unable to speak or move.

“Nice shot,” Cavan said. “Have you done with Micah? Can I play now?”

“Later. Neither of them is going anywhere. I need to show the court my tattoo and quash the rumors.”

Under hooded lids Inigo watched them leave the room. The moment the door was closed he gazed at Micah and winked. The faerie’s eyes widened. Inigo pushed himself into a kneeling position and stared at the bolt in his chest. When he reached under his arm, he could feel the other end poking out of his back. It should have made him dead-dead assuming his heart had been on the normal side, but it wasn’t, an anomaly that had saved him twice before. Not to say this wasn’t painful. It fucking was.

He took an unnecessary deep breath and pulled hard at the bolt. It slid out of his chest and fell from his fingers onto the floor.
Shit, fuck, bugger, damn. That hurts
. Blood spilled from his body, and he began to crumble.

“Inigo,” Micah whispered. “Don’t you dare die.”

Inigo wanted to do nothing more than lie down and pass out, but he forced himself upright and staggered over to the table. He lifted the large container of unicorn blood and took a slug. Then another. He didn’t have time to waste waiting for it to work; he stuffed the now full smaller flask in his pocket and stumbled over to Micah.

“Run,” Micah gasped.

“Not without you.”

“You have a hole all the way through you.”

“Really?” Too much effort to raise his eyebrows.

“Oh fuck. How are you still alive?”

“Because I wasn’t in the first place.”

He didn’t know where to start in freeing Micah. If he cut him down, his wings would tear farther. He grabbed the large container of unicorn blood and tipped it against Micah’s mouth. It had brought his voice back before. Maybe it could work another miracle. But he couldn’t wait to see if it did. He grabbed hold of a bolt, yanked it out, and tossed it aside, shutting his ears to Micah’s gasps.

The unicorn blood had begun to make Inigo zing. He could feel his energy surging. The pain in his chest and back had receded, but Micah was trembling like a leaf. There was no easy way to do this. He worked as fast as he could, trying not to look at Micah’s white face as he pulled out the bolts. When they were all out, he used a pair of scissors from his equipment to cut the rope at his ankles and then freed his wrists.

Inigo caught him before he hit the floor. Micah was as pale as a newly fledged vampire, his wings hanging in tattered shreds down his back. Inigo bit into his wrist and pressed it to the faerie’s mouth. Dangerous to let him feed, dangerous not to. He tensed as Micah latched on and began to suck. Color returned to the faerie’s face, and Inigo knew he had to give him as much help as he could. He couldn’t rely on the unicorn blood being as effective as his.

A little more. A little more. Oh shit, how can I possibly get an erection at a time like this?
But the feel of Micah feeding from him was a pure aphrodisiac.
Don’t want to stop
. It was Micah who pushed his wrist away.

“You can’t give me anymore. You need it.”

“Can you stand?” Inigo licked the wounds on his wrist.

Micah nodded.

“What about your wings?”

“I need to retract them, but it’s going to make me scream.”

Inigo wrapped his hands around Micah’s neck. “Do it,” he said, pulled him close, and kissed him.

He swallowed Micah’s wails, trying to distract him as he speared his tongue into the faerie’s mouth. Micah’s lids were squeezed shut, but out of the corner of his eyes, Inigo watched the remnants of his wings fold together and slowly draw up into his body, and he felt every painful pull as a jerk in Micah’s body.

After a last caress of the faerie’s lips, he pulled away. “Get dressed. We have to run.”

While Micah was pulling on his pants, Inigo took another long swallow of the unicorn blood from the large bottle. It hadn’t killed him. He might as well take advantage.

The door opened and Inigo spun round, hissing as his fangs came out, but it was Ryn who stood there.

“I was coming to help but looks like you managed without me,” the faerie said. “You need to get out of the castle while the king’s busy parading his back in front of the court.”

“Show me how to get to the queen’s quarters,” Micah said.

Inigo groaned. “Why?”

“Because we’re taking the wolf with us.”

“I’ve already brought Jayne here.” Ryn moved aside to show the slender form of an amber-eyed wolf hiding behind him. “She needs to stay as a wolf.” He handed a dress to Inigo. “Jayne can lead you back to the portal she used to enter the kingdom, although I don’t know whether the king has had it sealed. We think it’s one that was missed when the others were closed, but be careful. It leads to Richmond Park. If Oberon
did
have it sealed, go to East Land. There’s a portal under Thirty Bridge.”