Night Seeker (36 page)

As the hot water began to work its magic, pulling the ache out of my body, Grieve’s gentle hands were slowly caressing me. With a washcloth, yes, but also the pads of his fingertips. I gasped, slightly parting my legs. I was far too tired for sex but this…this sensation was marvelous and so I said nothing, just opened my mouth ever so slightly as his fingers dipped into the water.

He slid his fingers down my stomach, over my tattoo, and then down into the bubbles to reach between my thighs. I moaned gently as he began to stroke, light butterfly touches, flicking me to life, igniting the embers of a low fire that burned steadily, if not brightly.

I shifted, another moan escaping from my throat. “Grieve…”

“Shush. Be still. Let me play you. Let me release some of the tension.”

And with that, I gave myself in to his hands as he worked me, flicking this way and that with his fingers, softly encircling me to stir my desire, to stir the embers to life. As the feel of his hands on me heightened, as my stomach tightened, I shifted in the water, squirming under his gentle but firm ministrations.

I couldn’t keep quiet any longer. I began to pant, raggedly, as the pressure mounted, wanting him in me, wanting him to satiate the driving need that raged through my body.

Grieve was suddenly naked and climbing in the tub, and I pulled him to me, the hardened length of his cock sliding firmly inside my cunt as I pressed my breasts to his body. The loss and devastation of the night began to sink in and as he rocked against me, his hips pulsing as he drove himself deeper and deeper, I burst into tears and held him close, coming as hard as I was crying, in a burning mixture of relief and of loss. Grieve moaned into my ear as he gave one last, long thrust, and then he cried out, exploding within me.

As we lay entwined in the hot, frothy water, all I could think about was how even in the darkest times, the union of bodies, the connection of hearts, could wipe away all pain for at least a brief moment. I gazed into his eyes, the sparkling eyes of the Vampiric Fae, and whispered words to him I never thought I’d hear myself say.

“If we come through this…if we survive, I want your child within me. I want to create life with you. I’m tired of destruction.”

Grieve nodded, holding me close. “When we win this war, you will be my queen, and I will be your king, and we will give rise to a kingdom. Cicely, you will be a queen. You know that, don’t you?”

“What are you talking about?”

But he silenced me with a kiss, then with one final move, lightly leaped out of the water and pulled me to my feet. “We must get dressed and downstairs. They will be waiting for us.”

I stared at him, wondering what he’d meant, but there was no time for debate because a low sound rang through the room—the chiming of bells. Lannan was summoning us to his side. And right now, the last thing I wanted was a punishment for disobeying the vampire who held my reins, who forced me to call him Master.

Grieve handed me clothes from my dresser and I wearily drew them on. He had it easier—the full Fae were able to fashion their clothes from the air around them. Changing was easy. That was one attribute I would have given a lot to have—to never have to worry about shopping again. Decadence!

As we headed downstairs, the smell of roasting beef made me salivate and I realized just how hungry I was. I looked over at Grieve and smiled, feeling both sleepy but recharged. He knew what I needed, and I had needed to cry, to rage, to let go of tension, to fuck, to connect.

Lannan and Regina sat at the head and foot of the table. “I’ve had the chef prepare another meal. You must keep your strength up,” he said.

Neither of them had plates, but the rest of us were served sizzling slices of roast beef with a peppercorn sauce and a fluffy mound of fork-whipped mashed potatoes. A row of string beans glistened with melted butter, and crusty bread rounded out the meal. Lannan started to say something, but as the rest of us fell to the food, starved after all the fighting, he shook his head.

“I’ll wait until after you dine. Perhaps then you will be
too full to do anything but listen to me.” But he said it with a faint whisper of a smile, and I had the feeling that, superior bastard or not, he wanted his guests to enjoy themselves.

I dug in, scooping up mashed potatoes. I was starving. As I sliced into the steak and dipped it in the peppercorn sauce, something rang an alarm, but I was too hungry to pay attention to it. But when I put the steak in my mouth, I knew something was wrong. The minute the sauce hit my tongue, my mouth began to tingle, along with the back of my throat.

I dropped my fork and shoved my chair back, spitting out the food as my throat began to swell. Frantic, I scrambled for the EpiPen I always carried in my pocket, but it wasn’t there. Rhia saw what I was doing and raced around the table.

“Her EpiPen! Did someone take it out of her clothes? Goddamn it, hurry! She’s having an allergy attack!”

Rhia patted me down as Lannan streaked out of the room. As the room began to spin,
I couldn’t think straight. My lungs begged for oxygen, but there simply wasn’t any. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t feel my fingers or toes. Regina was by my side the next moment, loosening my top, as Rhia cried out something to someone that I couldn’t understand.

I am here. Calm, child, calm. Lannan is bringing your medication. Try to remain calm.
Ulean’s voice swept over me, and for a moment I relaxed, but then the gasping for air began again and I began to thrash about.

Then, a sudden rush seared through my body as someone stabbed me with the needle-sharp pen, and as I began to shake, the tension in my throat began to ease. I coughed, shivering as I broke out in a cold sweat. Dizzy, I buried my head in my knees as Rhiannon rubbed my back gently until the attack subsided. Lannan stood there, used EpiPen in hand, looking terrified.

By the time I was able to sit up, everyone was seated again, except for Lannan, Rhia, Grieve, and Lainule. I stared at the table. My poison came disguised as food. I could hear Lannan tearing down whoever it was had cooked the meal.

“She’s allergic to fish and shellfish. This, I told you. Who put fish in the sauce?”

“It has lobster in it, Master, not fish.” The voice was high and breathless. I glanced over to see a young woman—probably in her early twenties—wincing as she glanced over at me.

“Imbecile! Lobster is a
crustacean
.” At her blank look, he really let go, screaming in her face. “
Shellfish.
Are you brainless? Dolt! I want you out of my stable. I should punish you, but I don’t want to waste the energy. Gather your things and be out of this house in fifteen minutes.” He turned his back on her.

The girl fell to her knees, crying. “No, please, Master. Please don’t turn me away!”

Lannan whirled back around. His voice was low this time, so controlled that I shivered. “I gave you an order. One more outburst and I’ll rip out your throat. Go now, while you still live. And be glad for my mercy. You won’t get a second chance.”

The girl backed away, then scrambled to her feet and ran out of the room weeping. Lannan strode over to my side, pushing everyone away. He leaned down, took my hand in his.

“Do you need a physician? Shall I summon a doctor?” He sounded worried. Too worried for my comfort. I liked Lannan better when he was ignoring me.

But he was right, I needed to assess my health and whether I’d make it without a second injection. Sometimes one dose of epinephrine just wouldn’t do it. But the itching in my mouth and throat were subsiding, and I could breathe, and it didn’t feel like anything was starting back up.

“No…wait…” I squinted, trying to remember if I had another EpiPen in my dresser. I usually carried three. And yes, I’d replenished them the last time I’d inadvertently swallowed a piece of cod. And they were still good. “I’ll be okay for now, though tomorrow I should replace this EpiPen.”

Regina frowned lightly. “You know, if you would let us turn you, you would never again have to worry about dying from a bite of fish.” Her offer sounded genuine, and she looked almost confused when I shook my head.

“Thanks but…um…no. That’s not enough reason for me to give up life as I know it and take up feasting off blood. But I appreciate the offer.” I tried to smile at her, to show her I wasn’t being sarcastic. Hell, after a jolt of epinephrine, sarcasm was the last thing on my mind. But the adrenaline flowing through my body would sustain me until I crashed.

“Let me help you upstairs.” Rhia turned to Lannan. “The rest of us can discuss matters afterward. Cicely’s going to need to rest. These attacks are pretty harsh on the system and she’s already drained her energy today.”

He frowned but nodded and stood back as Grieve and Wrath edged him out of the way. My father picked me up, and as if I were no heavier than a stuffed animal, he carried me upstairs to my room. Rhia and Grieve followed. Rhia helped me get into a nightgown and she crawled into bed next to me.

“I don’t want to leave her alone in case she has another reaction. You guys go down and talk to the others. You can tell us what went on later.”

As Grieve and Wrath left the room, I leaned against Rhia’s side—she was sitting up against the headboard—and closed my eyes. I was tired, very tired, but I was also jittery from the medication. But after a few minutes, the sound of her breathing began to calm me, and she stroked my head gently, smoothing my hair, until I closed my eyes and fell into a deep sleep.

I found myself in a frozen wasteland, wearing a pale blue gown that shimmered with silver embroidery. At first I wondered that I was not cold, but then I realized the snowflakes felt good against my skin, cooling me and soothing my thoughts. As I turned, a pale bird appeared—an owl. I raised one hand in greeting to it, and it dipped low,
winging by, to land on my outstretched arm. I slowly brought it toward me, bending my elbow, keeping my arm straight, and the owl gazed into my eyes, and its eyes burned with frozen fire.

“Where have you been, my friend?” I whispered to it, and my voice was caught on the slipstream and went echoing out through the woodland, and as I spoke the ice on the stream shattered into a thousand pieces and the water began to flow again. The ice skittered together to form a figure, tall and glistening, and it knelt by my feet.

“What have you seen, my friend?” Again, I whispered to the owl, and the trees began to shake, the snow showering off their boughs to dust the forest with yet another layer of crystal rain.

The owl let out a soft hoot, as we locked gazes. And in its gaze, I saw the dance of Summer, bidding me to come and play, with golden roses growing wild on a warm dusky night, and the scent of fragrant jasmine and honeysuckle washed over me. The invitation was strong and I longed to join the warmth, but it was not yet time and in my heart, I knew that I could not enter that realm. Not yet.

“Send back this message,” I said. “I will come and play when the Oak King and Holly King battle under the longest day of the year. Then we will play, and spend time, and dance and revel. And when the holly meets the oak, I will invite Summer to my home, and we will once again make merry as the battle renews. The longest night will be ours to enjoy. Go now, and take this message, send it along the slipstream, and take my love along with it.”

And the owl took flight, rising from my arm, winging through eternal night. The trees were silver against the dark moon, and the snow reflected the chill in my soul. Nearby, a wolf howled, and with a smile, I turned to join my love.