Bound by the Vampire Queen (32 page)

He knew—from both sides of the coin now—how vital that bond was, how much it meant to his queen, the emotional value of it. He didn’t care about science or the gods, not when it came to this.

Whether or not the lingering effects of her original third-marking on him would make his death inevitable from hers, his heart made it inevitable.

That was all that mattered.

His threat against Keldwyn wasn’t an idle one. The Fae Lord might wipe up the floor with Jacob. But if will alone would take the fight, it would be Keldwyn reduced to a pile of bones, the truncated wings perched pertly on top.

Shhh…
It was her voice, her hands touching him, stroking his shoulders, as she recovered her energy.

It’s all right.

Palming her delicate skull, his fingers tight in her hair, he pressed her mouth closer to his throat, feeling that physical proof of life. “You took a huge risk, interpreting the lore that way. What if I’d embellished the story, merely to entertain you?”

“Then I would have been extremely miffed with you.” She dropped her head back, rubbing her lips together to take away the excess blood. Her color was better, and he could feel the strength in her grip on his arms. “You wouldn’t embellish, because you knew I was seeking facts from the stories you were telling me.”

“What if my mother, who told me that story, was embellishing?”

“Then we’d blame your mother.” Lyssa gave him a smile. “I’ve been told that’s what all children do, as long as she’s around to blame. If not, they go for the father.”

She trailed off then. “It’s likely as simple as all that, isn’t it? For Rhoswen. Though not in her behavior toward us, I see the elements of a fair, strong queen in the way her people react to her. They’ve shown a patience and loyalty that doesn’t happen if it’s not deserved. She obviously has her people’s devotion, though they’ve learned to be careful of her temper.”

“Not unlike someone else I know.” Jacob straightened to a sitting position on the bed, one foot on the floor as he shifted her into the cradle of his thighs. He wasn’t ready to let her go yet. “You’ve opened an old wound, one she’s been carrying around for a thousand years, a new personal record for how long a woman can hold a grudge. I’m guessing that when you were just a lowly vampire, she could justify hating you from afar, ignoring you.

But now that your Fae blood is developing, it’s reopened the wound. It was a slap in the face, hearing what your capabilities are, then seeing them up close and personal. He not only gave his love to a vampire; he also gave his blood and some of his abilities—actually, it’s starting to appear like quite a bit of his abilities—to the daughter she bore him.”

“There’s more to it as well.” She told him what Keldwyn had said about Rhoswen. “I’m still missing some pieces, but it does explain why, after all these years, it’s a sore point to her. As you said, an old wound that’s been reopened.”

“God save us from girls with daddy issues.” Jacob dodged her swat, catching her wrist and placing a kiss on her palm to mollify her, though he eased his grip as she pushed against it to stroke her hand through his hair, touch the side of his neck. “No wonder Cayden has been walking around with that permanent, ‘oh shit, what is she going to do next?’ expression.”

She sobered. “I don’t like Keldwyn’s veiled warning about your mount. She’s shifting her temper from me to you tonight.”

“Which is where I prefer it to be.” At her warning look, he sighed, gave her an admonishing squeeze.

“She knows it’s all the same, my lady. She’s trying to find the weakness that will bring us both down.” He knew Lyssa couldn’t argue that one, and so they sat silently for a moment. She played with the hair at his nape, then spoke. “I know you’re not disposed to think kindly of Keldwyn, but in some confused way, he may be trying to help her as well. I believe Cayden knows that, though he gets on the guard captain’s nerves almost as much as he does yours.”

“Good. Something else for the two of us to bond over.”

“Hmm. My mother never spoke of another child, or another woman who held my father’s heart.” Lyssa frowned. “I wouldn’t like to think of my father being deceitful in his love, either to my mother or another, but of course it’s possible. I never had the chance to know him, and it is easy for a child to romanticize a dead father.”

“Maybe it’s time to ask Keldwyn a direct question. And if you want me to pul off any of his appendages to get answers, just say the word.”

Riding clothes for Lyssa meant a beautiful high-waisted dress with embroidery at the block neck, and point sleeves that had a long drape at the elbows to match a flowing train. Rhoswen had sent attendants to help Lyssa once again, only this time it was waiflike Fae women with long thin arms and quiet, shadowlike movements. The one in charge had suggested, in a rasping voice, that Lyssa allow her to pul her ebony locks up enough to keep them out of her face, yet let the bulk of it trail down her back in a thick mass. They’d produced different accessories, a necklace of jade stones, matching ear bobs, lavender flowers for her hair that matched the dress. There was silver thread edging at the hems of the sleeves. Along the back of the train was a more elaborate, Celtic-style embroidered design.

When she asked who was supplying the clothing, she was told it was at the discretion of the queen.

Despite the fact Rhoswen had done her best to kill her this afternoon, she wanted Lyssa to be suitably dressed for the Hunt. Perhaps it had to do with her meeting the Seelie king, and not wanting to appear petty.

Jacob had donned Catriona’s stone pendant, and it complemented the short tunic, boots and hose that suited him so well. From the first moment she’d seen him at the Eldar, the spa where he’d come to

“audition” for the role of her servant, he’d reminded her of the knight he’d once been, long ago, the one with whom she’d spent one memorable night during the Crusades. He hadn’t remembered that right off, nor had she connected the two so intimately, but as their bond had deepened, she had become certain he and that knight were the same soul. As time passed, Fate had been kind, giving him the memory she had of that night in bits and pieces.

What he didn’t remember from that time, but learned from her in their present day relationship, was that she’d conceived a child that fateful night.

The babe had been still born. She vividly remembered that pale and fragile little daughter she’d buried alone. Her knight, the Jacob of that time period, had died three days after the night of conception. If the babe had lived, if Jacob had survived to return to her in his incarnation as the knight, she was sure that little girl would have been adored and cherished by her father all his life.

Girls with daddy issues.
She wondered again at the nature of her father, what he’d thought of Rhoswen and her mother. It was a dull twinge, thinking he might have turned his back on them.

They were prepared to their attendants’ satisfaction, and it was time to go. Taking Jacob’s offered arm, she let him lead her from the room, the two of them moving down the winding staircase.

Though she was aware of his quiet scrutiny, she couldn’t push the memories back.

From the first, she’d known Kane wasn’t the incarnation of her daughter. The near-term fetus had been delicate and soft, so feminine and sensitive.

For all that he was an infant, Kane was a bowling bal of testosterone. But she’d wondered if Kane, when in the Hal of Souls, had touched her little hand.

Of course such thoughts were fanciful and maudlin, for the soul of that long ago baby had certainly gone into the body of some other fetus, hopefully to be born in better times. Born to a mother who’d gotten to hold her, live, hale and hearty, with kicking feet and a scrunched-up face, squalling irritation at being so rudely born. Not still, like a little ghost in the womb.

She’d stopped on the stairs, was staring vacantly out an open window on the staircase. As she focused, she saw an array of luminaires had been strung along the drawbridge. Similar decorations outlined all the castles, with the exception of the Castle of Fire, of course, though she noted the fire had myriad colors tonight and the flame was more animated, jumping high and swirling out wide in fanciful shapes, like a light show.

“My lady.” Jacob slid his arm around her, picking up the tone of her thoughts.

I’m all right.
She nodded, acknowledging the comfort. Those who lived much shorter lifespans assumed the past grew dim after a while. That memories didn’t have as much power to hurt. That was true, somewhere in the middle of one’s life. But as the years accumulated, they came back with a renewed power. Though they didn’t hurt the same way, poignant regret was there, more sharp. The desire to reach back and change things increased.

Giving her a look of quiet understanding, he offered his raised hand, in true courtier fashion. She laid hers upon it, tightening her fingers on his knuckles, and let him lead her down the staircase to the main hall. The tables were set, the decorations a profusion of autumn color. Ice sculptures that looked like Fae maidens, undines, satyrs and other dancing creatures glistened, thanks to the gentle light of the three candelabras hung from stout chain. Hawthorne, ash and rowan branches were woven into the black wood frames, dotted with the gold, red and brown colors of flowers appropriate to the season.

As they moved out into the courtyard, they found the Queen’s Guard had dressed for this event as well. Jacob drew her to the wall so they could safely survey all the activity. They were meeting up with the main Unseelie host out on the front field before the castle, but well over a hundred of the males were getting mounted up here and it was a sight not to be missed.

The guards were all on black horses tonight, painted with white, skeleton-like slashes along the flanks and neck. Through some magic, the horses’ hooves appeared to be wreathed with flame, though the creatures seemed unconcerned by what would spook a normal animal. Their riders were dressed all in black, with long cloaks and silver painted faces, which made their expressions seem remote and eerie.

In the center of that formation, she saw a handful of younger Fae, perhaps the ages of her earlier group.

They were dressed in a variety of masks and scary costumes like she’d seen sold at the pavilions.

When she and Jacob arrived, they were cavorting about the courtyard, laughing and loud, but at a sharp word from Cayden’s lieutenant, they settled into an open carriage. A pair of black centaurs took up the yoke, bearing breastplates with the queen’s dragon insignia. Apparently, this small group of young had been awarded the privilege of accompanying the Haunt, but only with close supervision.

Lyssa saw Keldwyn, striding out of another corridor. He was also all in black, but wore an elaborate mask of layered feathers that fanned out in rust and gold colors, accentuating the stern lips and firm chin. His dark hair was clasped at his nape and, as he turned his head, she saw the clasp was a silver skull.

She didn’t see Cayden, which was surprising, since Rhoswen made her appearance next. She rode out of the stables on a white charger painted in black slashes, the mirror opposite of her escort.

When her eyes settled on the Fae young, her expression cool, they immediately became even more somber and well behaved.

“The Lady in White,” Jacob murmured, his hand tightening on Lyssa’s. “Jesus.”

The queen of the Unseelie was garbed in a creation of white silk that turned her into a ghost with her pale face. Her long skeins of white hair were unbound so the ends spread over the blanket on the rump of her charger. She had those sparkles of snow and starlight upon her skin, as did her antlered headdress.

A belt made of heavy chain rested low on her hips, the excess of it running up to a set of loose manacles she bore on her wrists. She looked ready to drag some unsuspecting mortal back to the Fae world against his will , pul ed behind her horse in those chains.

She made her way past the assembled guard.

They sat straight and expressionless as her gaze passed over them, assessing. When at last she reached the lieutenant, she nodded. Though his expression didn’t change, it was obvious the minimalist praise was the equivalent of a roaring accolade to him.

As she continued toward the drawbridge, the guard fell in line behind her, the center carriage with them. Seeing several others of the high court on foot, walking out behind the formation, Jacob and Lyssa accompanied them, moving to the drawbridge and beyond to join the main host of the Unseelie entourage. The high court members drifted over toward outfitted horses being held patiently by castle stablehands, but Lyssa and Jacob were caught by the spectacle of the waiting cavalcade—and the sudden sharp screeches that split the darkening night.

Lyssa found the banshees, long, thin-bodied creatures draped on the shoulders of several giants in the procession. The banshees looked much like normal men or women, though their eyes were luminous gold, and they all seemed to have burnished red hair.

Harpies winged swiftly up and back, reminding her of her own batlike way of flying as they took teasing passes over the heads of the others. They looked much like the stories, with skeletal faces, burning dark eyes and long, grasping fingers, their gray hair streaming out behind them as they turned and rolled in the air, impressive aerial maneuvers in a sky already populated by hippogriffs, griffins, dragons and phoenixes.

Interestingly, there was also a large murder of crows. The black, glossy-feathered creatures collected on the branches of nearby trees, making a substantial cacophony when not taking flight in sudden explosions of synchronized movement around the other flying folk.

Beneath the spreading branches of the oaks the crows seemed to favor, Lyssa saw a woman even more pale skinned and white haired than Rhoswen.

She was in a silver sleigh drawn by a foursome of horses. The sleigh seemed to be made entirely of ice.

“The Snow Queen,” Jacob murmured. “She coaxes a child into the sleigh with her, and then takes him to her castle of ice. To make him her own child, she erases the memory of the parents from his mind.”