Faery Queen (11 page)

 

“I do not know if she will hear it,” Merrick answered when Thomas could no longer hear him. He didn't know what to make of the visit and found it very strange that Thomas evaded capture by the Damned King, yet William and Hugh were in his grasp. Still, what else could he do but look into matters? If Lucien sent Thomas to trick him, he would fail. Merrick had turned out his own brother, his flesh and blood. Compared to that, nothing would stop him from turning his brother-by-marriage away.

Letting his flesh dissolve into a fine mist, he drifted out of his hall to a crack in the floor. It was a place only his magic could pass through. Going to the darkest depths of the castle, he solidified, standing near his dungeons. Only a few prisoners were kept locked behind his walls. They'd been held since before he'd become king and were too insane to release, so there they stayed for all eternity.

A small, portly goblin wobbled by. He looked up, his eyes completely white. Werdan was the prisoners' caretaker. Merrick ignored him as he walked down the hall. The curved ceilings were low and he ducked his head under the arched doorways. If he wanted, he could've made the ceilings taller by mere will, but he did not dare change a single brick. To do so would be to risk one of the prisoners slipping out of their cells.

At the end of the long hall, he came to a metal door. Lifting his hand, he started to knock, only to stop when it opened from within. An old, blind witch lived in this part of the palace—never leaving her room. The door creaked as the witch turned her face toward him knowingly. She had short white hair and a band of white material covered the empty sockets of her eyes.

“My king.” The woman's voice was raw and grating. She sniffed in his direction. “You come for help?”

Merrick wasn't surprised that she knew he was there. In her blindness, she saw many things. Though she could not be trusted completely, she was very powerful and worth keeping around. “Aye.”

“Oooh, aye, aye.” The witch reached forward to touch his chest. Merrick resisted the urge to pull away. The woman smacked her lips, cackling as her bony fingers patted right above his heart. “How is our queen?”

Merrick didn't move.

The witch's laughter grew as she patted him harder. “Oooh, broken.”

Merrick stepped back and her hand fell away. Her pleasure faded from her dry, wrinkled lips. “I am not here about Juliana.”

“But—”

“I am here to see if you can locate someone for me.” Merrick did not want the woman to utter another word about his queen. Every fiber in his being told him not to trust her with Juliana. “Can you help me or not?”

“Go away,” the witch said. “You have nothing I can use.”

“I'm sure you can think of something.” Why was he even here?

“I get more from not helping with this—much amusement.” She tried to shut her door. Merrick put his hand on the metal, holding it open. “If they die, you will have to tell her you did not help to find her brothers.”

“I cannot find them,” Merrick said.

“Do you think that will matter when she learns you did not even try?” The witch slammed the door. Merrick hit the metal hard several times, much to her amusement. Then, growling, he waved his hand, taking away the new gown he'd given her as payment for helping to save Thomas' life a year ago. It was replaced by the tattered, old garment she'd owned before. The witch screamed the instant it happened, her laughter dying.

“You enjoy my misery, witch,” Merrick strode away from her, “and I shall enjoy yours.”

 

 

 

Pleasure rippled over Lucien as he walked through the hall of his home. The faery queen had thought to use him, but he wasn't a fool. He was the master of deceit, the king of treachery. A mere faery couldn't best him, though he knew she'd still try.

The knowledge that Mia was chained in his bedchamber, trapped in the tight leather he liked to keep her in, made arousal flood through his veins, combining with the joy of his misdeeds. She'd hate him now because he'd made her atone for betraying him. The nymph's treachery in sneaking off to Bellemare to warn William angered him, but it also pleased him to know that her defiant spirit wasn't completely killed. He liked it when she fought him, but even more when she fought herself and her desires.

He thought of the faery queen, part of him wishing she would have taken him up on his offer. What pleasure it would have been to bring her low, teaching her the sin that would forever mar her and make her his ally. Her mind was close, on the edge of faery sanity. He could have forced her. The queen's magic was down after all. He could have bent her over the throne and forced the carnal knowledge of what he offered onto her. Greed kept him from acting. Deflowering the little faery wasn't necessarily the best use of her maidenhead, though it would have been entertaining.

Coming to the bedchamber door, he knew that Mia's sweet body would do to ease the ache in his loins. The taste of her fall was better than any frigid queen. He threw open the door, finding her right where he had put her. Chains held her thighs open as she lay on the bed on a sea of dark brown fur. Her hands were bound over her head. Thin leather straps crossed from her shoulders down between her thighs, barely covering her nipples and doing nothing to hide the thatch of hair guarding her sex.

Her wide violet gaze found him as he entered. Dark black kohl lined her eyes, making them almost glow. Lucien let his shirt disappear as he approached her. Gauze blew toward the bed, the material unharmed as it drifted over the suddenly bright fires.

“I see your temper is better, my king.” Her expression was defiant as she faked boredom.

Mmm, good, she is going to fight me.

“I have other things that need sated, my sweet nymph,” he assured her, “so that my temper may truly be eased.”

Her gaze moved down to his erection. He let his pants melt away so he stood naked before her. The arousal towered from between his thighs in desperate need of release. But there was another need, the need to conquer her yet again, to show her that he could have her, could control her and she couldn't resist no matter how hard she tried. Mia was his. She would always be his, until he sucked her soul completely and left her for dead, or until she succumbed to his will for her.

The memory of her lips on William the Wizard's fueled his need. She breathed hard, her back slightly arched. He allowed her chains to loosen their hold so she could move. Flames appeared in his palm, and he slithered them like a snake down his arm and over his naked chest to encircle his arousal. The heat felt good against his flesh.

“I have no wish to sate you, my king,” Mia hissed.

Lucien took a deep breath, letting his eyes fill with black. “Your smell says otherwise.”

“You are imagining things.” She sat up, inching away from him. The chains on her legs didn't let her get far.

“Would you prefer to play with the demon?” he asked, crawling onto the bed. “It begs me to let it out, to let him have you. I should after your deceit.”

She stiffened, not answering.

“Do not you want to hear what I did with the earl?”

“Did you…” She hesitated and he felt the caring in her, no matter how she tried to suppress it. He held on to that feeling, studying it. The emotion wasn't like what he carried inside him. Licking her lips, she took another route, arching a brow. “How is the earl's soul?”

“Intact.”

That surprised her. Lucien watched her face and though her expression didn't change, he could feel that her insides did. Was that relief she felt? The feeling angered him. Why should she feel relief over the earl's soul? Why should she care so deeply what happened to the people of Bellemare?

“I had better use for him. I delivered him to Tania. The faery is close to turning and I believe his rejection will be just the thing to plunge her into darkness. Faeries are such predictable creatures—so flighty, so driven by the pursuit of happiness and pleasure. Combine that with a virgin queen who must sacrifice her own pleasure for the sake of her race's magic until she has found her mate, and you have a volatile situation.” Lucien let fire burn in his gaze as he watched Mia, feeding off her reaction to his words. Knowing he was stretching the truth, he said, “The faery queen seeks to trap him in this realm with her. If she succeeds, Bellemare will be without its earl. If she does not, the faery queen will fall into darkness and the veil that keeps me from the mortal world will lessen with her faery magic. It will only be a matter of time before I find my way through to Bellemare and the rest of the mortals. Regardless of what happens, the Bellemare souls will be mine.”

In truth, Hugh would never go back. Lucien had made sure of that. But, if Mia warned the human like he thought she might, it would put a rift between the faery queen and Lord Bellemare.

Suddenly, Mia laughed, a sound dark enough to rival his own. “He would not beg you to take his soul no matter how much you tortured him, would he? Lucien, I am surprised…surprised you are losing your touch.”

“Fear not, little nymph. It is all arranged. I am close to getting my Bellemare soul.”

“Oh?” Mia arched a brow. “You think the earl will fall into your hands so easily? You gave him to the faery queen. She can block your magic.”

“Who said I was talking about the earl?”

Her mocking smile faded. “What have you done?”

“You know the price of knowledge. Care to barter?” Leaning over, he licked her leather-covered nipple, pushing the strand aside with his tongue. Mia gasped. Against her flesh, he said, “Your choice, Mia. The demon or the man, but one way or another you will be sating this body tonight.”

“The man,” she answered without hesitation, her eyes closed.

He heard her, but he demanded anyway, “What was that, sweet little nymph?”

“The man,” she said louder. “I would sate the man.”

“Prove it.” He let the sound of demons enter his voice, just as the chains disappeared from her body. Mia growled, slapping him hard. Lucien's head fell back in pleasure and arousal. He lifted his arms to the side. She hit him again and again, scratching him with her nails to draw blood. The wounds healed as fast as they were inflicted. Snarling, he grabbed her by the arms and threw her down.

“I hate you,” she swore. “I will see you damned.”

“Sweet Mia.” He chuckled, his tone as dark as his soul. “I already am damned. There is no hell for me beyond this. If you truly wish to curse me, say you will see me blessed.”

His mouth opened and he looked at her for a long moment before capturing her lips. The demon tried to surface, but he pushed it back. Tonight he would give her the man not the beast. Even as he thought it the power within him surged once more and he couldn't resist its addictive pull.

She bit his lip hard, drawing blood, and he shoved her legs open in response. The salty taste of him mingled in their kiss. Her body was wet, ready to take him any way he pleased.

“Tell me,” he ordered.

“Why must I say it?” Her mouth chased his as he pulled up.

“Say it.”

“I love you, Lucien, and I resent myself for it.”

Lucien smiled, kissing her hard as he thrust within her. He took his pleasure in her body, knowing she would find hers. His sweet nymph could never resist him.

 

 

 

“Lux lexis,” William mumbled, frowning. “Lix lucis.”

He knew he was close, if he could only remember the right words. It was much harder to work magic without his wand and only a few spells would work. His body was sore from the chains holding him against the wall and it had been far too long since he'd eaten anything. He did manage to get some sleep, but it was hardly comfortable upright.

“Ah, I know!” He smiled, saying boldly, “Lux lucis.”

A soft glow illuminated his whole body, throwing light over his prison. Expecting to see a dark and lonely tomb of a cell, he gasped in surprise. “Well, who do we have here?”

Next to him, a man was chained to the wall. He didn't move, but his color was too good for him to be dead. Seeing a pointed ear, but not much else as the man's long hair hid his face, William knew the man to be an elf. He leaned forward, seeing what looked like two more pairs of feet beyond his neighbor's. Since none of them had moved that William had heard, it was clear they were under some sort of enchantment.

“Just my luck,” William grumbled as the soft light over his body began to fade. “My only company is under a spell. Now, I don't suppose any of you happen to remember the spell to make food appear?”

The thought was punctuated by the growling of his stomach, as the glow around him faded and he was cast into darkness once more.

Chapter Five

Tania fluttered above the bed where Hugh rested. She had his body cleaned of the dried blood that had remained after his healing; watching carefully to make sure none of the faeries touched him too long in any one area. She hated feeling jealous, but she couldn't seem to help it. After sucking the health from him and turning his flesh gray when she tried to heal him, she was scared of touching his flesh in case she did more harm than good. After his bath, she had him moved to her bed, where he now rested.

Her bedchamber was at the top of the palace. Sometimes it was as high as the treetops, at others no taller than the crown of a mushroom. Though, personally faeries were one of their two sizes—either big or small. They couldn't make themselves into giants, unless within the castle and then all would grow the exact same amount as the stone walls, keeping them in proportion. The changing palace was what kept them hidden in the forest. They could all become a single grain of sand, completely unseen unless one knew where to look.

Tania continued to hover over the prone earl. The bed Hugh rested on was in the middle of her chambers. The floor shone like ice, though it wasn't cold. It matched the frosted crystal walls. Though smooth to the touch, the walls were uneven, like a clustering of icicles.