Bloodline (26 page)

Ellie Norwood.

She was in a place only he knew about—a small space he’d hidden in as a child so he could watch what went on in court. Bound and gagged, she would die if he died. But that wasn’t going to happen—him dying, that is. He had to face down what was coming and crush it completely. He called the few remaining hunters to his side, dragged the queen from her chamber, and strode for the court.

“I’m tired,” she moaned.

“We have visitors, my sweet. I wish you to meet them.”

He could tell by the hushed whispers in court that the rumor mill had been churning hard. He slouched on the throne next to Maryse and signaled to the hunters to arrange themselves around him. They were armed with swords and daggers. No other mortal weapon would work on this side.

“Your Majesty, there’s a commotion in the courtyard,” one of the Elders said. “Visitors who wish to speak to you.”

“By all means, allow them in.”

He grew strangely more confident with each second that passed. He was king, not yet formally crowned, but still. Nothing could touch him. He wasn’t even surprised when his aunt and uncle walked into the room. Serge and Elisa embraced them. That pair would be joining his relations in some hellhole soon enough.

Oberon pushed himself to his feet. “Aunt April, Uncle Flint, how delightful to see you looking not even a little singed. I’m so pleased the rumors of your demise were unfounded. Though I have to admit to being rather peeved you left the kingdom without saying good-bye.”

He held out his hand for them to kiss his ring, but they didn’t move. He tightened his jaw and sat back on the throne.

“Where’s my sister?”

Micah strode forward from the back of the room, the vampire on his heels.
I should have flayed the little shit when I had the chance, and why isn’t that vampire dead?

“I have no idea,” he said. “Is she missing? Are these your parents? Your brother?” He might not have planned this, but the opportunity to silence the Norwood family had just been handed to him on a plate. “Here to decide if they wish to remain in the kingdom? I hope they’ve brought back the rest of the Kewen.”

“You have it all apart from the ring you gave Ellie,” Micah said.

“Lies. Your family is a bunch of thieves.”

He held back his snigger at the fury rolling from the Norwoods. Father, mother, sister who looked a little like Ellie, and a handsome older brother who could most certainly provide entertainment in the Blue Room.

But as more faeries filed into the court, he sank his teeth into his cheeks. Judging by their clothes, these fae had crossed from the other side of the Divide. They hadn’t had a chance to appreciate the need to conform to his will. He thought about just beheading one of them to make a point, but without his main band of hunters he felt vulnerable. When Ryn rushed to embrace the shifter, Oberon bit back his growl of annoyance. He’d had to make the guy a hunter to please his father-in-law, but he’d known he couldn’t rely on the little shit.

“I assume many of you in this room were banished from the kingdom. What right do you have to enter without permission and to bring mortals, a vampire, and a werewolf with you?” He didn’t really want them to answer. “Still, I’m a magnanimous king. I’m prepared to appoint a council of Elders, and we will decide each case on its merits. I’m minded to offer pardons to celebrate my coronation.”

“You’re not fit to be crowned king,” April said. “Your bloodline is impure.”

Oberon was pleased to hear the ripple of shock that passed around the room. Even his useless queen looked stunned.

“You’re half-mortal,” Flint said.

There were no gasps of shock at that revelation, and he almost smirked at the concerned glances shared between the interlopers.

He made a dismissive gesture. “A base rumor started in order to blackmail me. The Elders know all about the ridiculous claim that the Kewen was sold by my grandfather in exchange for three mortal children. My aunt and uncle have been brainwashed by divisive elements.”

So suck that up, you cretins.

“The tattoo wouldn’t stick to you because you’re not pure fae,” the vampire said. “The one you have on your back now isn’t a proper tattoo. I half painted it because I knew you’d kill me if I didn’t manage to give you something to show the court. Though you tried to kill me anyway.”

Oh fuck
. “More lies. The court has seen the tattoo on my back and witnessed its veracity.”

A faerie he didn’t recognize walked forward, flanked by Micah and the one he’d guessed was Micah’s brother.

“Hello, nephew,” the unknown faerie said.

For once Oberon didn’t know what to say. Apart from the fact that the faerie hardly looked older than him, the only uncle he had was Flint, his father’s brother.

“Who the fuck are you?”

“My name is Kit. My father was Oberon the Fifth, my mother his queen. April is my stepsister, Flint and your father my stepbrothers. I was born while the queen was incarcerated on the island of High Royd.”

As Kit carried on speaking, Oberon felt power and control slipping from his fingers. Why the fuck hadn’t his father told him about Kit? Had he not known?
Shit, shit, shit
. If he asked them to produce this Lucia, the faerie who’d supposedly taken Kit away with her after his mother’s death, he suspected they would. He could accuse her of lying, that there was a conspiracy against him, but without his hunters to back him up, he felt unsafe.

He tightened his fingers into fists. What did these arseholes expect him to do? Roll over and present his belly, cede the throne that for the whole of his life he’d been raised to believe was his? Did they expect him to take a lowly place at court and pledge his allegiance to this usurper on the basis of what supposedly took place so long ago? Well, some of it had taken place, though he hadn’t known his grandfather had sired another child by his mad queen. He tried to muster an appropriate degree of righteous indignation rather than allowing his screams of rage to emerge. He imagined lashing them all with a sharp sword, and that helped.

“This is preposterous. You walk in here, tell me the throne is yours, not mine, and expect me to step aside? You’re lucky I don’t have you all thrown in the dungeon.”
Without your fucking heads.

“Show them your back,” the vampire said.

Oberon clenched his teeth.
How the fuck did you not die when I staked you?

“I’m not a—” But when Kit pulled off his coat and shirt to reveal the coronation tattoo, Oberon pressed his lips together.

Where the fuck is Cavan? Where are my hunters?

“This is a conspiracy, and the vampire is in on it.” Oberon looked round for supportive faces, but most faeries avoided his gaze.

“Where’s Ellie Norwood?” asked a dark-haired mortal.

“I have no idea.” The bitch would die before he’d reveal her whereabouts.

His brain raced, trying to come up with a plan. Retreat with Maryse to her father’s kingdom, persuade him to raise an army in exchange for—well, he could come up with something. Maybe he didn’t even need to take Maryse with him. He could claim she was being held against her will, and they needed to rescue her. No, that wouldn’t work.
Fuck.

“I need to consider everything that has been said. Arrange for Lucia to come to court and talk to us. I find myself hurt”—
fucking furious
—“and disappointed that you have confronted me in such a manner. I am the only child of Oberon the Sixth.” Because he’d made sure his older brother hadn’t lived beyond his tenth birthday. “The throne of West Land is mine by right.”

Except if Kit was telling the truth, it might not be, but he didn’t intend to give up without a fight.

“Until Lucia arrives, you must stay in your quarters,” Serge said.

Don’t look so fucking smug about it
. If Cavan and the rest of his hunters had been there, he’d have told Serge to suck his dick—well, more politely, but cooperation might give him a way out when resistance at this moment would likely fail.

“As you wish.” He nodded, rose to his feet, and held his hand out to Maryse. “Come, my sweet.”

For a long moment, he didn’t think she’d move, but she stood and then slapped his face—hard. He gave a short laugh. “Condemned without a trial. How very medieval.”

He strode out of the throne room, heading for his quarters, wishing he’d strangled her weeks ago.

“Make him tell you where Ellie is,” a mortal whined.

“Oh, we will,” Micah said, and he and several other faeries pushed their way into his room after him, leaving his remaining hunters outside.

He knew he might only have one chance to take them by surprise, and that time was now. He ran straight to the window and threw himself out.

“SHIT.” MICAH AND several others dashed to the windows. There was no sign of Oberon in the sky or on the ground.

“Where’s he gone?” Serge gasped. “Ryn, Morgan, take to the sky. Find him.”

Micah was about to go after them when Inigo caught his arm. “Think.”

“What?”

“You can’t see him where you’d expect to. Neither in the sky nor on the ground. Maybe he’s still in the castle. Could he have flown into a window lower down?”

“Good point,” Kit said.

“Stop talking and please do something,” Jago shouted.

Micah stepped back when Kit took charge, organizing them into search teams, putting those who knew the castle and the kingdom with those who didn’t.

“Can we close all portals?” Kit asked.

“They’re already closed,” Serge said.

“But if Oberon closed them, maybe he can open them. Send faeries to every known portal.” Kit snapped out orders, and everyone bustled to obey.
A king in the making
. Unless Kit suggested something Micah thought was a mistake, this was the way to win his kingdom.

“I was thinking…” Inigo said quietly. “Oberon won’t take to the sky. He knows he’ll be spotted. He’ll be making for a portal as fast as he can.”

“With Ellie?”

“I think she’s in the castle. She’s his bargaining chip. As a last resort, she can give him freedom.”

“Are you going to stand around talking?” his father snapped at Micah. “Find your sister.”

He glared at Inigo and stalked off.

INIGO’S HEART SANK. He’d never be good enough for Micah’s father. He couldn’t ask Micah to choose between him and his family, but he could do everything in his power to find Ellie.

“I have an idea,” Inigo said. “Follow me.”

The courtyard was full of faeries anxious to know what was happening. Fortunately, Elisa had followed them out, and as they pushed their way through the bustling crowd, she stayed at the top of the steps. “Listen carefully,” she said to the crowd.

Please let me still be able to speak to the animals.

“The stables?” Micah asked as they ran on.

“A fast way to travel.”

The stables were empty of faeries but filled with the noise of a horse kicking and banging. Inigo went up the first stall and checked the name. “Good morning, Star. Has Oberon been in here?”

“He took Beauty out a short while ago. Are you Blade’s friend?”

“I am.”

“Blade’s here too. Behind that door. He’s smashed his way out of three stalls. They have him behind metal.”

“Thank you, Star. Would you like to come on an adventure with us, carry Micah and rescue Beauty?”

“It would be my honor.”

Inigo turned to Micah. “Right, Star is yours. Oberon took a horse out a while ago. You do know how to ride?”

“Not unless I’m behind you.”

Inigo laughed. “Climb on Star and hang on tight.”

He ran to the room at the end toward the bellows of fury. “Blade. Stop it,” he shouted.

“Inigo?”

“The very same.” Inigo lifted the bars from the doors and pulled them open.

Blade had bitten through his tether and almost knocked Inigo off his feet as he rushed toward him.

“You smell unusual, my friend.”

“Do I? No time to debate that. We need help. Oberon is on the run. Micah’s sister’s life is in the balance. The kingdom is at risk. We must find the king. He’s riding Beauty.”

“I know. The bastard whips her and laughs when he does it.”

“Can you track them?”

Blade snorted.
“Does a horse have four legs?”

“Well, the middle of your front leg is actually a wrist. You walk around on the equivalent of a middle finger.”

“Shut up and get on my back.”

Inigo leaped up, and Blade launched himself down the aisle between the stalls.

“Shit,” Micah gasped as Star galloped after.

Inigo threaded his fingers in Blade’s mane, clung on tight with his hands and thighs, and panted the details of what had happened into the horse’s ear. They pounded over fields until they reached a river, then followed the route toward the sea.

“Not far ahead,”
Blade said.
“Be careful of thhelpojoluuth.”

Inigo groaned. “Blade, I think I’ve lost my ability to understand you. Try again.”

“Ppghelgh.”

“I have,” Inigo said. “I’m sure you can still understand me, but I can no longer comprehend you.”

Micah galloped up alongside, his face and knuckles white. “Does Blade know where Oberon’s gone?”

“I can’t talk to him anymore, but I’m sure he does.”

Blade surged forward and moved even faster. Inigo tried to push back his worries, but it seemed obvious that the effects of the unicorn blood were wearing off. The sun shone overhead in a cloudless sky. How long before he was burned to a crisp?

The sea glistened not far ahead, and as they galloped onto the sands, in the distance, he could see a man on a horse. At his side, Star veered off left, and Inigo wondered what was happening until Blade took him right, toward the sea. Were the horses trying to cut Oberon off? He put his trust in Blade.

Was it his imagination that the sun seemed warmer on his face?
Oh shit
. Wouldn’t he have just gone up in flames if his immunity was over?