Shadowlander (5 page)

He was going to have to seduce the Seer and get her to stay in the Shadow Court.

“It looks like some European villa, like something on Lake Como in Italy,” she murmured.

“Like I said, this is my seashore cottage. Just wait until you see the size of the palaces elsewhere.”

“Is that where they have Maya? At one of the other palaces?”

“They’ve taken your friend to the capital of the Shadow Court, Seaneath.”

“How far is that from here?”

“Four days on foot.”

She frowned, the tips of her slender dark brows coming together to form a V. “Is there any way we can get there faster?”

Rook smiled and thanked the gods for small favors. “I can get us there quickly, by transporting us there. If you’re willing to assist me.”

Her doelike eyes narrowed with suspicion and she crossed her arms over her chest, deepening the intriguing crease between her breasts. “How?”

“Being in your realm for too long drains our magickal powers. I need to regenerate them before I can effectively transport us that kind of distance.”

Cate rolled her hand, as if trying to pull the words out of him. “And…”

“And what?”

She muttered a few choice words under her breath. “What do you have to do to regenerate your power?”

“It’s very simple.” He stepped closer, putting a crooked finger beneath her chin and lifting her head to look up into his eyes. “And it’s practically a given between us at some point.”

She raised one brow in challenge, but he could feel her pulse beating hard and fast with desire in her veins. “Rook, quit playing games. What is it?”

“Sex.”

Chapter Four

“Sex?” Cate’s mouth grew dry at the thought of his large hands on her bare skin. While seducing him to get her into the fae world and find Maya had been the plan, some small part of her had never fully considered that he might want to take things this far. Not that she hadn’t had fantasies about it. She had. But he was far more potent than she’d anticipated. Her head buzzed.

Rook’s raw sexuality pulsed off of him like a damn heat wave. Cate flexed her hand, closing it then opening it over and over, to keep herself from slapping the cocky confidence off his face. For a moment, she didn’t know if she was more pissed that he’d suggested it so casually, assuming she’d just jump at the chance, or if she was angry because she’d been thinking not five seconds before that perhaps she’d like to follow through with thoroughly seducing him after all.

“You expect me to believe the only way I can get to Maya is if
we
have sex? How dumb do you think Uplanders are? This isn’t my first rodeo, cowboy. I’ve been watching, studying your kind for years. I know you can do things without having to horizontal mambo first.”

Rook shrugged, his eyes clouding with confusion. Maybe they didn’t use slang in the fae world. Maybe a woman had never flat out told him no. His head tilted just enough that his eyes flashed violet, like a cat’s went green in lights at night. The telltale sign he was 100% fae. A shiver traced spirals over her skin.

“You asked me to be truthful. I am. It’s not the only way, but it is by far the easiest, fastest, and most powerful way to regenerate our magickal powers. Surely you can already feel the shimmer in your blood. The magickal link has formed between us.”

Yeah, she felt it. She’d felt it for fourteen damn years. She just wanted to ignore it. Attraction and lust were two things she didn’t need confusing her right now. Not when she needed to be clearheaded and practical to get Maya and herself home.

“Look, you seem like a nice guy and all, and you’re certainly attractive, but I am not, repeat not, just going to become intimate with you only because I need to get to the capital. Got it?”

The pad of his large thumb traced a rough but sensual path over her bottom lip. A tingling started at the point of his touch and raced down her spine to her core.

“Who said that was the only reason? You have spirit, Cate. That’s one of the many things I admire in you. But every warrior knows when the battle is lost. You will come to me sooner or later. You know it and I know it. You can’t fight the inevitable, any more than you can stop the passing of time.”

An invisible clock starting ticking in the back of Cate’s skull. They were at T-minus ten hours and counting. She was going to run out of time if she didn’t get to Maya soon. As arrogant as Rook was in his assumption, he had a point.

Mercifully, they were interrupted before she did anything foolish by the approach of Rook’s palace servants. All of them had the same strange bobblehead look to them as the girl who’d been fawning all over Rook earlier that day. Their eyes and heads were oversize and precariously balanced on slender bodies. Their digits were elongated, looking almost alien to her. They eyed Cate with a mix of curiosity and wariness that set her on edge. She didn’t like the thought of being the freak in a freak show.

The best-dressed among them, clothed in a pair of dark pajama-type pants, a flowing collarless white shirt, and funny little pointed-toed shoes that curled up at the ends, tore his gaze away from her. He bowed deeply to Rook, touching his forehead to his clasped hands. “Your Highness, welcome.”

“Rise,” Rook said with absolute authority. “We are only staying to refresh ourselves, Borgen. I need mounts and rations prepared. We travel to Seaneath immediately.”

“Very good, Your Highness.” Borgen’s blue gaze hesitated on her for a moment, keen, observant. “And is there anything special your guest requires, Your Highness?”

Rook glanced at Cate, a twinkle in his eye. “That depends on her.”

Cate realized two things simultaneously. One, her suspicions about Rook were true—he wasn’t just any fae; he was in fact royalty. And two, she was hungry. Her interrupted lunch with Maya was long gone. While her stomach pinched uncomfortably, so did her memory.

According to Gran, eating food in the fae realm was an iffy practice. Eat the wrong thing and you could easily be enchanted, unable to bear eating any normal food again. Cate wasn’t sure how much of that was her gran’s idea to discourage her granddaughters from crossing into the fae realm and how much of it was fact, but she wasn’t taking any chances.

“I’m fine,” she lied. She was anything but fine. Half the day was gone. She still hadn’t seen Maya, let alone saved her, and her resistance to Rook’s magnetism was dwindling the longer she lingered in this strange world. He’d always had this effect on her. Cate had originally blamed her reaction to him on teenage hormones and the rush of having someone as physically appealing as Rook interested in her, but now that she was a grown woman, she understood there was far more happening between them than just raw attraction. His confidence, the easy way he bantered with her and made her feel as though she were the center of attention, all made her hyperaware she’d never met a human man like Rook. Which made him dangerous in ways Gran had never talked about.

“A meal for both of us, Borgen, packed and ready to go in half an hour.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

Rook took her hand in his, a firm, no-nonsense grip that didn’t hurt but also indicated he wouldn’t take no for an answer. Together they walked across the remaining lawn to the wide white marble steps that led to an open terrace.

“Where are we going?” She hurried her steps to match his much-longer stride. They passed through a massive stone arch and Rook pushed open the wooden door that looked darkened with age. Cate took a mental note that it was banded not in iron, but in gold. Suddenly the rusted nails still in her pocket seemed a far more formidable weapon than she’d anticipated. If the iron were as poisonous to the fae as Gran claimed, she could scratch or stab with the nails if she needed to. Knowing she was armed eased the tipsy butterflies fluttering about in her stomach.

The door opened into a tall entry hall topped with a stained-glass ceiling. Overhead, a crystal chandelier created from intertwined golden vines dripped diamond dew drops. Sunlight poured in through the stained glass and hit the crystals, sending jewel-toned spots of brilliant light dancing and shifting on the white marble floor, turning it into a sea of moving color. To the left a marble staircase swept up the side of the hall, where a second-story balcony looked down upon them.

“We’re going to my apartments. If you aren’t hungry yet, let’s at least get you ready to travel.” His gaze, more of a physical caress than a mere glance, roamed over her bare legs, up to the hem of her skirt a couple inches above her knee. A flush of warmth raced along her skin in its wake. “As much as I like your clothing, I think you’ll be far more comfortable on a catamount if we get you some proper riding attire.” He started up the stairs, his hand still firmly latched onto hers.

Cate wasn’t exactly sure what a catamount was, or if she should be scared of riding one. What she did know was that the look of pure desire that flared in Rook’s eyes when he mentioned stripping her out of her clothes made her skin seem to shrink a size, turning it tight and sensitive.

He steered her down a long marble-floored hallway, their echoing footsteps hushed to a slight rustling by a thick, ornate carpet runner woven with a pattern of leaves in green and gold. The walls, lined with sage-colored silk, were punctuated with gilt doors and large paintings that felt more like windows, since their contents shifted and moved.

Cate thought she saw a blinking pair of eyes amid the flowers in a large blue-and-white porcelain vase on the elegant hall table, but she couldn’t be sure. Nothing was quite as it seemed.

“I thought fae were supposed to be more nature-based,” she murmured. The elegance and sheer size of the palace encouraged the hushed tones of a library or museum.

Rook let out a humorless grunt. “Some of us are. The lower castes especially so. You’ll find, once you are here for a time, that there are distinct differences in fae, and not all of them are as keen to keep humanity around as the Ragnorian caste is. But you won’t have to worry about that much, being part of the Makcay.”

“I’m sorry, part of what?”

“The Makcay caste, the highest there is in the fae realm. As a Seer you are counted among those most revered and honored in our society. Those who bend the magick, see visions, and advise kings.”

“No offense, but I’d rather be just a commoner back home with my sisters than be some kind of royalty in your world.”

The moment the words left her lips, Cate had another thought. If the only reason she was in fae high society was because she was a Seer, what did that mean for Maya? Her footsteps stuttered. “And what if I weren’t a Seer? What if I were just some Uplander female, then what would happen to me?”

Rook grimaced, as if the thought left a bad taste in his mouth. “Then you’d be part of the Drugar.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

Rook stopped and sighed, his gaze connecting with hers. The violent eruption of anger and determination behind his eyes made Cate catch her breath. “They are the slaves. Their existence is based on whim. To displease is death. They are pawns and property, nothing more.”

Her chest contracted uncomfortably. She had to get to Maya. The sooner, the better. “How long before she’s put into the Drugar, or becomes a slave, or whatever you call it?”

“It depends. Is she pleasing to look at?”

Cate frowned, putting her hands on her hips. “What’s that got to do with it?”

Rook’s lips twitched. “Everything. If she’s as pleasing to look at as you are, she’s being held in the dungeons at the capital palace until she is presented to the Shadow King. Once she’s been presented as a conquest for Midsummer’s Eve, she’ll be sent to the Ragnorian concubine quarters. If she isn’t, well, then she’ll go to the slave quarters for the Vaquin.”

“Who are the Vaquin?”

“Higher level fae, but those outside the ruling caste—like Borgen—who serve as our traders, artisans, and craftsmen.”

“You mean the bobbleheads?”

Rook frowned. “I suppose they do look like those silly bobbling idols you have.”

Cate groaned and put her fingertips to the pounding ache beginning between her eyes. “Look, just for the sake of argument, let’s say my friend Maya is going to be a concubine. I’m assuming Kallus wouldn’t take her otherwise.”

Rook shrugged. “True. It
is
Kallus.” His tone was underscored with a note of disgust.

“Then what would we have to do to get her out of the dungeons?”

He reached over and lightly grasped her hand, his thumb brushing rhythmically along the back of her fingers. “How do you know she wouldn’t like to be Kallus’s concubine?”