rogue shifter 07 - cut off (2 page)

I smiled back to reassure them that I wasn't going to collapse in a lump on the floor, even though that's what I felt like doing. Liam had brought me coffee, so I took a sip and forced myself to think about this logically, the way Garrett would.

If Charlie and I stayed in Faerie, I'd be giving them complete control. I'd be handing over my son to the fae, a friendlier set, but still the fae. I would have no power there, unlike Fionna, who'd already proven she was capable of breaching Cascade's wards as easily as mine.

I asked Liam, whose hand rested again on my shoulder,
"
Do you agree with them?
"

He sent to me, mind-to-mind, breaking through my locked-down shields as if they were wafer thin. Normally I'd be pissed off, but Liam was a rare friend. We were honest with each other, brutally at times. I knew what he'd say before I heard his response. "
If you feel he can be kept safe from Naberia, take him to Isaiah. Cascade is no longer secure from the queen's vengeance."

That advice would cost him. His father and brother would be furious, but in my heart I knew it was the same advice Garrett would have offered up. I kept my face frozen and nodded toward Caelen with respect. "Thank you for sharing your council. I'm very sorry about the young male who was murdered. I'll need to take care of a few things and then I'd like to meet again later, if that would be acceptable." I had no doubt Aedus would be pounding on my door as soon as he heard what I'd done.

Before they had a chance to respond, I flashed out to the movie theatre to retrieve Charlie and take him to the Demon Realm.

CHAPTER THREE

Fionna was pacing, tossing aside her long blonde hair each time she reversed direction. The train of her scarlet gown flowed dramatically in her wake as she swept back and forth across the stretch of floor below the stairs leading to the dais. Perched there were two elaborate thrones, hand carved from the finest woods and metals, glistening with an ambient magic left behind by several powerful monarchs. Fionna had never been interested in the history this room embodied. When she sat on the throne at all, it was only to ensure that all eyes were pointed in her direction.

As soon as she noticed my arrival, she asked, "Do you think they've read the note?"

"Yes. We'll have a reply from Caelen soon, no doubt." I lowered my body into the chair usually occupied by the queen's consort and stretched out my legs. They still troubled me from my time spent as Isaiah's prisoner in the Demon Realm sixteen years ago.

Fionna noticed me rubbing my knee. "Do you still not heal?"

"The pain has lessened."

"Isaiah should be drawn and quartered." She snapped.

"He exploited an old injury. Do you recall how I would sometimes limp as a child? After Father left court, my mother became quite proficient in the use of the cane, targeting the back of my knees. Korwyn was close to death on two occasions. You see, she blamed us for Father's departure."

"Father was at fault. He made my lady mother angry."

Saying that Queen Aine was angry was the understatement of the ages.

Unlike most fae, Finvarra was fertile beyond imagining, impregnating the queen within weeks of his coming into power. After Caelen and Fionna were born, the queen discovered she was unable to bear more children. She magnanimously sent Finvarra out to impregnate other females so that the court, which had been decimated by many battles, would be reinvigorated with new life. Each chosen female gave birth to at least one child, my mother to two.

Problems arose when Finvarra revisited these females and their children, perhaps because he loved them as he loved his queen. Aine's time alone with him grew shorter, a situation she abhorred, but she was a queen with incredible power and knew just how to solve this dilemma. She proclaimed the females to be traitors and murdered them by her own hand. It was quick and clean and done in secret. Father could do naught for the dead, except to make sure no other fae died because of her madness.

Because my mother was ill from iron poisoning, she was spared, hanging on to her ugly life until just after my sixteenth birthday. No one at court besides myself knew of her final hours, and it would remain so.

Fionna twisted her mouth in disgust. "You should not allow ancient memories to distract you from our plan to bring Charles to court. Your mother is long dead." She waved her hand dismissively.

"Your mother left you without a backward glance."

She winced at my dig, then tightened her mouth. "Perhaps your mother was right. Perhaps you were to blame."

"I was ten years old when Finvarra left, my sister only eight." She straightened her perfect hair in the gilt mirror, ignoring me. My voice grew louder. "Your mother was losing her sanity. She was killing female fae in violent rages brought on by jealousy. She was turning her gaze toward the children of those unions. Father took her away to protect us."

"Caelen and I were in no danger." She crossed her arms over her chest, her eyes appearing black in the glow of fae light.

"Queen Aine might have one day considered even you, her daughter, competition for Finvarra's attention."

Ironically, every fae at court had wanted the king's attention. Finvarra was generous and kind to his subjects, ruling his people with intelligence and honor. He was a warrior so skilled he could cut down dozens of attacking unseelie without incurring one wound, and an artist so masterful, he could bring everyone to tears with a sweetly sung song.

But those weren't his only talents.

If the former king wished to unleash his unique magic, Finvarra could cast a magnetic spell onto whomever he chose, even an entire group. Under this charismatic sorcery, we wanted to please him, needed to please him, begged him to allow us to please him. Fae with bloodlines as long as his, who had always prided themselves on their dignity, would sometimes fall at his feet in rapture when he spoke to them. We would compete to make him smile, that gleam more radiant to us than a dozen suns. His females made him smile most often, but Queen Aine had not smiled to see it.

It was only later that I understood the true nature of the power he wielded, since, of all his children, I had inherited a similar gift myself, one much more suited to my temperament. I had no interest in gaining followers who would throw themselves at my feet in adoration. Instead I breached their shields, entered their minds to take away free will. Controlling their bodies as their minds lay imprisoned.

The last day I'd spoken to him had been in this very room. Each moment was branded into my soul, the pain still real.

"Father, why are you sad?" Father was usually in a jovial mood when he was with me, although lately, that had changed.

"The queen and I are leaving the Faerie Court. We journey to Tir Na NOg."

"May Korwyn and I go with you?" My ten-year-old self stretched out a hand, attempting to grasp his arm.

He stepped away. "No. It is a place only suited for the ancient among us. You have your entire life to live."

"When will you return?"

"I cannot say. Perhaps never."

Dread sent icy fingers along my spine. "Can Korwyn and I live with one of our half siblings?"

"No, son. Lillias—your mother needs you." Lillias was the pet name he gave my mother. Unlike all the other females he'd chosen to take to his bed, he'd visited her so often, he'd impregnated her twice. My sister's birth might have been the final straw to rip apart the queen's indulgence."

"Mother treats us badly. She is unwell." A lone tear dripped onto my tunic.

"Try to be grateful that she still lives." He lifted my chin and smiled his most radiant smile. My knees wobbled at the gift he'd given me. "If you are an obedient young male you will be loved and treated gently."

"But Father..."

"I love all my children, and always will. Take care of Korwyn and my sweet Lillias."

Fionna finally stopped her pacing and glanced toward the double doors that marked the entrance to the hall. "Where is your captain? He should have reported to me long before now."

"He reports to me, sister."

"You..."

"Forgive me, but as queen, you should not concern yourself with field reports delivered by common warriors. This male has a rough nature. His face is deeply scarred and he lacks the courtly finesse you are accustomed to. As is my duty, I will report to you personally as soon as I hear from him."

"Hmmph. Very well. I will check on the vampire." She left and I sighed with relief. Fionna could be exhausting to a degree known only to the mothers of very young children.

A serving girl entered and bowed, keeping her eyes fixed on the ground. "Lord, your captain has arrived."

The female had light hair like my mother, her skin so pale it was practically transparent. "Send him. And bring wine."

"Yes, lord."

As if to prove a point, my captain, a slim male with a face scarred in battle, met my gaze without fear, an unusual occurrence at court. Most had first-hand knowledge of my predilections, and so spent time in my presence staring at their feet. I'd chosen this particular male for the task he'd performed because he did not seem to fear me, nor any other fae. Or rather, he did not fear death. Perhaps he felt dead already, the horrible burn on his face lessening his chances to find a mate. We fae were obsessed with the continuance of our race, our fortune in this regard having not been in our favor for some time, Finvarra's seed notwithstanding.

From his ragged appearance I could guess that he'd come to me before bathing. Fionna would have found this to be the height of disrespect, however I appreciated his courage and common sense. The information he brought was more important than following a courtly protocol that made no sense in this circumstance. I smiled, thinking about the serving girl and her more typical behavior. It was always easier to converse with someone who answered your questions without mumbling, shaking or talking to the floor.

"It went as planned?" I asked. I was still seated, the rest having done wonders for my knees.

"Yes, Lord Kennet."

"Continue."

"The Cascade male was guarding the border and not expecting an attack. Your instructions gave me easy access, enabling me to deliver the body to the field and then get out again quickly."

The serving girl brought wine, pouring it with a shaking hand. When she started to leave, I said. "Return to me when the warrior leaves."

"Yes, lord."

Throughout my brief conversation with the girl, he stood at stiff attention, a perfect soldier. I invited him to sit and share wine, but he refused, having lived under Fionna too long to take any generosity at face value. She enjoyed playing games with those who displeased her. I did not have the patience for that, preferring more direct methods. "Caelen and the other elders will be more careful in the future, captain. He is arrogant, but not a fool."

"Yes, lord."

"The queen will wait for Cascade to respond to her message. Be ready to leave again as soon as it arrives."

"Yes, Lord Kennet." The damaged male dissolved, perhaps to eat and rest in his small quarters. I rose and walked to the throne my father had occupied all those years ago, then sat, scanning the entire room. Running my fingers over the exquisitely carved arms, I enjoyed the view from the higher platform. None of the current queen's sycophants would dare say anything against my sitting here, particularly because I was the most powerful male at court.

The mongrel serving girl had returned.

"More wine." The decanter was half full and I could easily have poured my own, but I wanted to enjoy her terror as she poured it for me. I would be demanding much more of her today and she knew instinctively that she might not survive what I'd expect of her.

The lithe female poured the wine, trembling as she replaced my goblet on the small table beside the throne. She was pretty, but would have been quite beautiful if she had access to her magic and enough to eat. Fionna drained most of the court mongrels' magic, leaving them barely enough to survive. Full-bloods were also required to contribute a portion of their magic to "prepare for the war", at least that is what Fionna told them. Her true reason being that It kept them weak and under her control. I was one of the few she left intact. Our personal guards were also included in that group. No reason to take chances.

"Do you need anything else, lord?" The servant was two feet away, but I could barely make out her whispered words.

I took a long sip, drawing out her torture. "Yes. Kneel here." I pointed to the floor in front of the throne. She stared at her feet as she shuffled and knelt where I'd indicated. She trembled so violently I thought she might collapse, but then, I was indeed a creature to be feared.

I had inherited my birth father's telepathic powers at the age of sixteen. The gift brought me sweet revenge on my mother and continued to serve me in many unexpected ways. Fionna would soon bow to my will, as would others at court. Charles would learn to use his inheritance as I have and together we would control Faerie. What young man would turn away from such power, and if he did, well, I had ways to encourage him to follow my instructions.

I locked gazes with the mongrel kneeling before me and thrust my will into her mind without kindness, taking over her body and guiding her as I wished. Her terror was still present, but if she pleased me well, she could become a favorite. Sighing, I relaxed into Father's throne, imagining what else this mongrel could endure today to please me.

CHAPTER FOUR

My senses returned as the scent and feel of a filthy wooden floor wrinkled my suddenly responsive nose. Although it was still dark, my keen eyes had no trouble adjusting to the dimness. I was sprawled face down, unbound and dumped without care. I forced my body into a sitting position, then stood and stretched out my stiff muscles, not feeling any ill effects from whatever spell had been used. Grateful for the relative freedom, I began to pace around the small room, automatically searching for an avenue of escape.