Lie Down with Dogs (21 page)

Liar.
Mac wasn’t a coward. Take Linen’s word for it? I think not. “Then why—?”

“He
ran
.” Linen walked two fingers through the air. “Tail tucked between his legs, he vanished. What in all the realms does the Black Dog covet? What does the man who distances himself from those he might be called upon later to end crave?
Connection.
And who in all of his long life did he experience such an event with? A human woman. From all the fae beauties at his disposal, women and men who would have served him until the end of time, he chose a mortal from this backwater realm to be his first and only lover.”

Childish hope sparked in my chest.
First and only...
“You can’t expect me to be sorry I exist.”

“Believe me.” He turned sincere. “No one is sorry for that.” He grasped my hand and lifted my wrist to his nose. His eyelids fluttered as he inhaled. “Sullivan’s blood runs in your veins. Not as rich as the source material, but we can make do when the time comes. It won’t take much. A few liters. It probably won’t even kill you.” He considered me. “Hmm. Do you know whether you’re immortal?”

Before I told him where he could stuff his immortality, he inclined his head, and Jenna clocked me in the temple. It felt like a sledgehammer, but it must have been her fist. While I was dazed, she jerked on my scalp harder until my spine bowed impossibly, then busted my lip with the glass’s hard edge as she poured the clear liquid down my throat while I coughed and spluttered. Being the helpful soul he was, Linen pinched my nose until I gasped for air. Jenna drained the dregs down my throat and then released me.

Glacial waters swept through my limbs, reminding me of the time I had fallen off a tower during marshal academy. I had ended up in the med ward, hooked to an IV that
drip
,
drip
,
dripped
icy relief into my veins.

Paralysis brushed chill fingers down the length of my body, and the eager magic building in my palm snuffed out and left me unable to move my hand, let alone remove my glove or say my Word.

The last thing I remember was the pity welling in Jenna’s eyes as she mouthed
Forgive me.

I
woke inside the mouth of a frost giant who was suffering five-alarm halitosis. That’s how it felt anyway. Damp walls enclosed me. I figured that out when I jerked awake and headbutted the stone wall inches from the end of my nose. Whoever I had to thank for my new digs had stuck me inside of an upright box made from natural stone with walls I estimated to be three feet in width if my reach was any indication. I could stretch my arms overhead without touching a ceiling. I was five ten, so if this container had a lid, it was at least ten feet from the ground. There were holes drilled into the wall that let in fresh air and faint light. Normally, I cast my own light, but my magic was on the fritz. The concoction Jenna had force-fed me was wearing off faster now that I was conscious, but I was drained.

Hungry.

The walls were all that kept me on my feet, but I was sagging.

“Thank God—and anyone else listening—I’m not claustrophobic,” I mumbled.

“You’re new,” a tiny voice said from somewhere to my left.

I strained my ears to pinpoint the source. “Did you hear them bring me in?”

“No.” A soft feminine laugh echoed. “But only the fresh ones still believe in gods of any kind.”

That...was not reassuring. “Where are we?”

“A cavern, but I don’t know where.” She paused. “I was taken from New Haven Colony.”

I whistled long and soft. “How long have you been here?”

It took her a while to answer. “I don’t know.”

New Haven Colony sounded like it belonged on the page of a history book. It must have been somewhere in the northeast. Connecticut maybe? If that was true, she had been here a hell of a lot longer than Jenna’s ten years. Or was a hell of a lot older than her voice sounded. What had Linen said? I had gone without a drink for sixteen hours? That much travel time could have put us outside the state easy, but a Makara required land and sea, and Florida, being a peninsula, made an ideal location. “I was captured in Florida.”

Curiosity spiked her voice. “Do you think that’s where we still are?”

“It’s possible.” I shuffled closer to her voice. “Rock formations like these are unusual for the area, but they exist.”

“I was transferred from another collection. I’m not sure where, only that I wasn’t there long. Faysal, the fae who captured me, traded me to Balamohan.” Her voice quivered. “He has...particular tastes...and Faysal owed him a favor.”

Trading fae like baseball cards? That explained how Jenna made it here from Port Arkansas. Linen must have scooped her up too, but why? The Valkyrie angle? Did he have a type? What I wouldn’t give for a peek inside the other cells for clues.

Imagine an entire network of caverns with fae like him stocking them.

Shudder.

“I remember the walk to my cell,” she confided. “This cavern is enormous.”

“If we’re in a natural cave—” and it sounded like she would know, “—then I think I know where we are. There’s only one air-filled cave system in the state—the Florida Caverns State Park.” Mai and I had visited it once on our way to Panama City Beach. “It’s in the panhandle, near Marianna.” I exhaled on a laugh. “Not that knowing where we are helps much.”

“Knowledge is power,” she contradicted me. “You imparted more than I ever hoped to learn.”

With a lifespan like hers, she must be fae. “Can I ask you something?”

“Why not?” She exhaled on a tired laugh. “We have nothing but time.”

I thumped my head against the rock wall behind me and focused on not thinking about how long I had been trapped before regaining consciousness. Had a whole day passed since Linen took me out of Daytona? Two days? More? The darkness gave no hints, and my companion’s intel was woefully out of date. “Do you have any idea who Linen—um, I mean, Balamohan—has sworn allegiance to?”

More laughter carried to me, and this time it rang sharp with bitterness. “He forsook his goddess, his purpose. What he once was, he is no more. He is a parasite. He sustains himself with his collection.” A moment passed during which I worried she had lapsed into hysteria before she cleared her throat and continued as if her near loss of control never happened. “To answer you, his fealty lies with the Morrigan.”

Not good. If she was aware of the relationship between Linen and the Morrigan, it was much older than I first assumed.

“You mentioned a collection.” I braced myself. “How many of us are there?”

“Hundreds in this cave,” she answered in a small voice. “And all of us kin.”

I lifted my head. “Kin?”

“We’re all death bringers. That’s how he feeds. That’s what the Morrigan made of him. She was once the only death-touched goddess, you know. Then others arose and diminished her power, and then children of those gods, made with fae and humans, rose to prominence and weakened her further.” She sighed as she said, “She yearns for a time which no longer exists, rife with blood and violence. She clutched what tithes she was given to her chest, but once the Black Dog rose, peace reigned in Faerie, and her magic faded as his word became law and his legend took root in the terrified hearts of the fae folk.”

If that was true, all of her sustenance was coming from the mortal realm. From the conclave. From
me
.

“She wants him,” she said, “wants all that he has.”

“She’s jealous of Macsen Sullivan?” The question was tinged with awe.

“Jealousy is a good word,” she mused. “It conveys her sense of entitlement.”

Centuries of careful planning was coming to a head, and all because of me.

I was the weak link in the unbroken chain spanning my father’s very, very long life. The resentment bubbling up in me since I realized my own father would have let me die to save his own hide cooled to a simmer.

Now I understood.

During his life as one of the Huntsman’s hounds, Mac had run with his pack through the mortal realm, collecting fae souls on All Hallows’ Eve. His ties to both realms were solid. Even as a hound, he had held authority here. It made sense his blood could ward this realm from Faerie. Tethers, I had assumed, were natural anchors that conclave outposts sprung up around, but what if I had it backward?

In my father’s house, I had walked down a hall filled with doors, and each door opened—not to another room—but to another place. Tethers operated on the same idea, but on a larger scale. What if Mac was responsible for stabilizing those too? It would explain how he could monitor the number of fae traveling to this realm at any given time. Though once they were here, they became the conclave’s problem.

One thing I knew for sure. If any fae who wanted to cross into the mortal realm could, humanity would be wiped out in a blink. I had to warn the conclave. Together we could make a stand. I just had to escape my cell in one piece and sidestep the Morrigan’s plans to use me as her backup sacrificial lamb first.

“What is your name?”

The timid voice snapped me from my thoughts, and I answered, “Thierry.”

“Thierry.” She pronounced it
Tee-a-ree
instead of
Tee-air-ree
like I did. “I’m Branwen.” Small, shuffling noises announced her movements. “We should rest now, before the feeding begins. Balamohan only ever visits when he’s hungry.”

A flash of Jenna and that dot on her temple flickered through my mind, and I shuddered.

Sleep wasn’t happening.

“Thierry?”

I leaned my head against the rock beside me, placing my ear closest to her voice, the only comfort to be had in this cold, hard place. “Yes?”

“I hate that you’re here—” a yawn interrupted her, “—but I’m glad that you are.”

“We’re going to get out of here.” My voice wavered.

“No,” she said sadly. “We won’t. You’ll lose your wits faster if you believe that.”

Far be it from me to judge her coping mechanism, but acceptance wasn’t my style.

“Rest,” I urged. “You sound like you need it. We’ll talk later.”

A low hum was her answer, leaving me alone to chew over the problem of our escape.

The guards’ defection stung my pride. My first line of defense was on the fritz, and my second had gone dark side on me. The three of us hadn’t been friends, but we had been friend
ly
. There at the end, I had trusted them.

Shaw was my third and best hope of ever seeing the light of day again. I could summon Diode, but that was risky. If he appeared in my cell, he would crush me. Not to mention he couldn’t teleport. Summoning magic didn’t work that way. All I would accomplish by calling him would be to trap him in the cell with me.

That put me right back to option number three. Shaw. Magic was, of course, my primary defense, but my palm wasn’t sparking. Either the cells were spelled or the drink was spiked, so no help there.

After a while, my thoughts lagged, and closing my eyes seemed like a good way to help me think.

––––––––

T
hanks to the tender spots dappling my thighs, I knew I had been a prisoner for several days. I woke Branwen screaming the first time a frigid needle pierced my skin and pumped me full of stinging fluids. Now I just winced and endured.

The substance Jenna had force fed me in Linen’s study? Turned out it was some nutrient cocktail injected into the prisoners daily at chow time.

The combination of boredom, hunger and fear conspired against me. Exhaustion was winning. I hadn’t felt any pangs until I began to wonder why I wasn’t feeling them. Now that gnawing pain—and my upcoming injection—was all I could think about. Branwen’s light snores meant I was alone in my misery.

When a deep throat cleared next to my ear, I shot upright with a shout.

“Marshal Thackeray,” a disdainful voice ricocheted off the walls. “You are a difficult woman to pin down.”

“Are you serious?” I asked no one in particular. “This faux-British accent is the best my imagination can come up with? If I’m going to hallucinate, can’t it be in style? Doesn’t Tom Hiddleston do voice work?”

“I am
not
imaginary.”

Unimpressed, I fought back using the power of logic. “That’s exactly what an imaginary man would say. I’m a big girl. Let me have it. Tell me the truth.”

“I am as real as you are.”

I flicked my fingers at him. “I’m not up for philosophical debate here. Constructs of my mind would of course
seem
real to me—”

“Gods be praised, the woman has lost her marbles,” he mumbled.

“Pretty sure I never had any. Choking hazard, you know.”

He remained quiet for several blissful moments until clearing his throat.

“I have a matter to discuss with you.”

“No. I’m done talking to myself. I don’t want my next-door neighbor to think I’m nuts.” I waved at nothing. “Buh-bye.”

“But—”

“No,”
I snarled. “Sanity’s all I’ve got going for me right now, and you’re kind of wrecking that for me. Beat it.”

“Rudeness is uncalled for.” A heavy pause. “Considering the circumstances, you are forgiven.”

“Thanks.” I would have curtsied if I had room. “For a second there, I was worried.”

Worried I was talking to someone who wasn’t there.

“Your sarcasm endears you to no one,” he said.

I don’t know. Shaw seemed to like it. “Why do you sound familiar?”

“We have spoken many times over the phone.”

Of course we had. Stress had finally cracked me. “You’re the stalker.” Of all people, why imagine him? My brain wasn’t doing me any favors by visualizing me tying up loose ends. I was not going to die, damn it. “Now that you’ve found me, what do you want?”

“You arrested my son, Herbert Slosson.”

“Herbert, really?” I thumped my forehead on the wall. “That’s the best you can come up with?”

“Perhaps this is not the best time— No. It must be done.” The voice continued, “I am Nasir, last anointed son of the Warith djinns. You restored my lamp to me, and I owe you recompense. Choose your boon wisely. Once spoken, your wish cannot be retracted nor expanded upon. It is said and will be done.” He made an impatient sound. “Fairness urges me to wait, but I cannot. I have little power left, and if I do not use the magic my son poured into the lamp to grant your wish, it will not manifest. We must hurry.”