Wicked Whispers (32 page)

The night had taken on a thick quality that felt as though it clung to her. She wanted to wipe her hands on her jacket. Without warning, Murmur fell and lay still. Ivy screamed, but the sound seemed to be absorbed by the darkness.

Ivy dropped to her knees beside him even as she heard Braeden’s curse and Asima’s gasp. She looked up.

Tirron and eight others had stepped from the shadows. “I wouldn’t move if I were you.”

Ivy knew his warning was for Braeden and Asima. He didn’t fear her puny power. Fierceness filled her. If they survived this, she’d learn to maximize any power she had. No more denials, no more excuses.

She placed her fingers on Murmur’s neck. Ivy gasped. His skin was freezing. No pulse. Nothing. Fear almost made her lightheaded. “What do you want?”
Please wake up.

Tirron smiled, that beautiful cold smile that terrified her.

“To kill you, of course.”

While he spoke, his followers, five men and three women, circled them. Yes, the women had noticed Braeden, but they weren’t giving in to his pull. Now, if he could only touch—

“Don’t worry, I won’t destroy Murmur’s mortal body. I want him here to live and suffer. I don’t care about the other two. But you…” His smile widened. “He cares about you. And you, after all, were the cause of all my trouble.” He shrugged. “Although everything will work out anyway.” His smile grew secretive. “The one who should die still will. That hasn’t changed. I’ve just had to adjust my plans.”

What the hell did he mean by that? Only someone very stupid would point out that he’d caused his own troubles, so she kept quiet. “What did you do to him?”

Tirron nodded toward one of the women. “Mielle quick-froze him. When he thaws out, he’ll be fine. But he’ll stay the way he is until I decide otherwise.” Tirron shook his head in mock regret. “You weaken him. He was thinking of you instead of watching for his enemies.”

Guilt gnawed at her. Tirron was right. She was a distraction. But since she didn’t think she could give Murmur up now, she would just have to make herself strong. First, though, she had to survive the next few minutes.

The longer she could keep Tirron talking, the longer she’d stay alive and give Braeden or Asima time to act. She glanced at Braeden. He was backing up a few inches at a time. About a foot more, and he’d be able to touch Mielle. Asima hadn’t moved.

And so Ivy babbled. “Are the others from the Seelie Court too? Why do you all sort of look the same? Are you related? Does each of you have a different power? How did you disappear from the elevator before Murmur could kick your butt?”

“Shut the fuck up!” Tirron had finally lost his cool.

Ivy flinched. Okay, maybe she shouldn’t have asked that last question, but she’d been talking in a nonstop stream without even taking a breath. Her mouth had been way ahead of her mind. Funny, when she’d asked the question about the Seelie Court, Mielle had looked startled. Not that it mattered in the grand scheme of things. In a few minutes, Ivy would be dead, unless… Another glance showed that Braeden was within touching distance.

Holding her breath, Ivy watched him reach out and grasp Mielle’s wrist. Then things happened almost too fast for her to follow.

Mielle tried to jerk her hand away, but Braeden had a firm grip. It took only a moment of contact for her face to go lax, her eyes to fill with mindless lust.

As Mielle went limp, she must have lost her hold on Murmur. His eyes opened. He took in the situation at a glance and leaped at Tirron.

Tirron’s eyes widened. “Kill them.” He stumbled back and the other faeries formed a protective shield in front of him.

Then Ivy got a demonstration of the enemy’s power. She could hear the music forming in Murmur’s mind. He wasn’t being careful, but then, time was important. The beginning notes made her want to throw herself to the ground, dig a hole, and bury herself forever.

But before he could complete the melody, an unseen force flung him at least twenty feet through the air. He landed with a pained grunt against the side of the house. Where were the people inside? Didn’t they know something was happening outside?

Braeden cried out in pain as a slash mark appeared across his chest. Blood poured from the wound, but he didn’t drop Mielle’s hand.

No one was paying attention to Ivy. She frantically looked around for a weapon.
Think.
What would hurt a faery?
Iron.
She needed something made of freaking iron. A heavy iron pipe would be great. No pipes, no pointy stakes, not even a dead branch. She was screwed.

But in the end, she needn’t have bothered.

The attack on Braeden finally seemed to tear Asima from whatever trancelike state she’d been in. Throwing up her hands, she screamed into the malevolent night. “I call on the power of Bast. Hear me, beloved goddess.”

Suddenly, Asima was gone. In her place was the largest lion Ivy had ever seen. Sure, she hadn’t seen many, but this one was as large as a horse. And just in case someone stupid might mistake it for a normal lion, it was surrounded by shimmering power that extended outwards in rainbow waves.

The fight lasted about ten seconds more. That’s how long it took the lion to tear apart all the faeries except for Tirron. He’d disappeared at first sight of the lion. His followers had reacted a little too slowly.

Ivy looked away.
Please, no more blood and body parts.

“It’s okay. They’re gone.” Murmur’s voice warmed the side of her neck.

Cautiously, she glanced at where the faeries had been. No bodies, nothing. “What… ?”

“Faery reclaims its own.” Murmur looked worried. “I hope this doesn’t cause trouble with the Seelie Court. We already have our hands full.”

Hands full.
The lion.
Ivy frantically scanned the area. No lion, but Asima was back. She was busy taking care of Braeden’s wound. Ivy allowed herself to relax.

“What did that all mean?” She placed her palm over his heart just to assure herself that he lived.
She
certainly lived, because contact with any part of his body made her heart leap and race. And he was warm again. She could sink into his heat and stay there forever.

He pressed her hand against his chest for a moment before putting his arm across her shoulders and guiding her to where the others stood. As they walked, she noticed that the night had cleared of whatever evil Tirron had whipped up. A cool breeze blew, and she could see stars.

“You okay?” Murmur put his hand on Braeden’s shoulder.

The faery nodded. He didn’t even look at Murmur. His attention never wandered from Asima.

Ivy silently applauded Murmur. She’d bet that a few weeks ago he wouldn’t have touched the faery willingly. “Thank you for what you did. Both—”

Murmur put his hand over her mouth. “Never thank a faery. They’ll perceive it as a debt owed. And you don’t want to owe any faery a favor.” He glanced at Braeden. “Sorry about that.”

Braeden shrugged. “It’s the truth.” His expression turned sly. “Although, I can’t say I wouldn’t enjoy knowing you owed me a debt.”

Ivy smiled weakly.

Murmur looked grim. “I’m damn glad both of you were here.”

Without them, she’d be dead. She’d been useless during the fight. She tried to keep the knowledge from eating at her. She could do her self-loathing later.

Murmur focused his attention on Asima. “Thanks, Asima. But what took you so long?”

Asima smoothed down her dress, which didn’t have a single wrinkle or stain. Most disturbing, her hair was still a shining curtain down her back, not one strand out of place. Ivy thought that was just sick.

Asima looked puzzled. “I thought it would be obvious. I could not take aggressive action against the faeries without gaining Bast’s approval first. The goddess had to ponder the consequences of destroying them.” Her gaze slid away from Murmur.

“I assume she gave her approval?”

Why was Murmur pressing? And Ivy would almost swear that she saw a flash of amusement in his eyes. What was that about? She could understand Bast’s need for caution, because even a goddess wouldn’t want to anger the entire Seelie Court.

The Seelie Court.
Ivy frowned. Something pricked her memory, something important.

Asima fixed her attention on Braeden’s chest even though his wound was gone. “She would have.” She fussed with his shirt. “In a minute or two.”

Braeden placed his hand over hers, stilling her nervous fussing. “Bast didn’t give you permission?”

Asima looked away. “No. But they were hurting you. I couldn’t allow them to do that. Bast will not mind.”

Asima bit her bottom lip, and Ivy decided that Bast would mind very much. Asima made a giant leap upward in Ivy’s estimation.

Braeden slid his fingers along her jaw, forcing Asima to look at him. “Your caring means a lot to me.”

“If your goddess gives you any flack, let me know.” Murmur smiled at Asima. “I’ll compose a song for her that will repay her for your transgression.”

Asima looked awed. Evidently a song created by Murmur as a gift was a precious commodity.

“Thank you.” Asima smiled at Murmur. “That would go a long way toward placating her. And perhaps the queen of the Seelie Court will not be angry. Tirron and the others were not shining examples of that court.”

They’d almost reached the car when Ivy finally put it together. “Wait. I have it.”

Everyone paused.

“I don’t think Tirron belongs to the Seelie Court.”

17

“Doesn’t belong to the Seelie Court? Explain.” How could Bain have made that kind of mistake? Murmur searched his memory for clues that Tirron wasn’t what he claimed.

Ivy raked her fingers through her hair as she met his gaze. “The first time Tirron spoke to me, he said something puzzling. He said we’d ride the night skies together.”

“That would mean the Sluagh Sidhe. The Unseelie.” Braeden sounded confused. “I didn’t recognize Tirron or his buddies, but then, I’m a solitary faery.” He glanced at Asima. “Until now.”

Murmur shook his head. “Maybe you made a mistake. Maybe he didn’t say exactly that.”

Ivy’s expression turned stubborn. “I have a great memory. No, I didn’t mistake what he said. Besides, I didn’t know anything about the Sluagh Sidhe at that point. Why would I imagine something that strange?”

Murmur knew he looked doubtful. “Bain knew this guy.” But did he? “Or maybe not. I remember now. Bain said he didn’t know him personally. Someone had recommended him.” He shook his head. “But faeries can’t lie. He told Bain he belonged to the Seelie Court.”

Ivy looked a little deflated. “That’s a problem. But other things fit. Tonight, when I asked if all of them were from the Seelie Court, Mielle looked startled.” She glanced at Asima and Braeden. “And at the end, why did Tirron say that everything would work out anyway, that the one who should die still would? That sounds as though he’s targeting one particular person.”

“Smacks of a conspiracy to me. We don’t need any added complications right now.” Braeden looked worried.

We?
Braeden seemed to be throwing his lot in with them. Murmur decided he wouldn’t make a big deal of it. They could use the extra help.

“Faeries can’t lie, but they can manipulate the truth by not answering or by only telling part of the truth.” Asima slipped her arm around Braeden’s waist.

“Who is the person who will die?” Murmur didn’t like the thought that Tirron had used all of them to fulfill his own secret agenda. “I’ll talk with Bain as soon as we get back to the castle. He’ll still be working the fantasies.”

No one spoke during the drive back to the castle. Murmur drove, and Ivy sat next to him. He made sure he didn’t glance in the rearview mirror to see what Asima and Braeden were doing there.

As he parked the car, Murmur heard an imperious meow behind him. Asima was once again the cat Sparkle loved to hate. Braeden carried her into the castle while Murmur and Ivy followed behind them.

Ivy stopped and pulled out her phone. “Wait a minute while I check on Kellen.”

Murmur stood nearby, trying not to listen in on her conversation with her brother.

“You’re where? Don’t you have homework?” She bit her lip as she listened. “Okay, but don’t make it too late.” She put her phone away and joined him. “He’s in Klepoth’s room. He says he finished his homework, and he and Klepoth are working on a project. I’m glad that he has a friend, but…”

Murmur felt a stab of resentment that he quickly squashed. Maybe she’d never get over her suspicion of demons. And that was a good thing. He tried to convince himself of that. “Klepoth is okay. Kellen is safe with him.”

She turned wide eyes on him. “Oh, it’s not that. I trust Klepoth. But I’m not being a great substitute parent. I don’t have any idea how he’s doing in school. I’m not making sure he gets enough sleep, or spending time talking with him. Once this faery thing is over, I’ll have to do better.”

Murmur hoped his relief didn’t show. If she trusted Klepoth, it stood to reason she trusted him.

He expected her to begin walking again, but she didn’t. She stood looking into the night. “Why did you avoid me for three days?”

A lie immediately popped into his head. It was a great lie. He was, after all, still a demon, and his instinct was always to lie if the truth made him uncomfortable. Well, now was as good a time as any to break that habit. “I didn’t want you to find out about the battle with my master. And I wanted to make sure no one would associate you with me in case I lost. The Master would’ve taken great joy in hurting someone I cared for.” He frowned. Truths were difficult. “I wanted to keep you safe.” He hummed a calming melody in his head.

Her smile lit up every dark place in his sorry soul.

“Thank you.” That’s all. She started walking toward the door.

He grinned into the night. Okay, so sometimes telling the truth felt damn good.

Inside the castle, he gripped Ivy’s hand just in case she had any ideas about escaping him. They waited until Bain had shed his vampire costume to approach him in the dressing room.

Bain pulled a shirt over his head before facing them. “A problem?”