Cast in Faefire: An Urban Fantasy Romance (The Mage Craft Series Book 3) (14 page)

“I’ll love you no matter how many ungrateful things you say to me. You’ll still have a place in my court when your fiancée leaves you.” She took Konig’s hand. “A mother’s love is inviolable.”

He shook her off. “She’ll never leave me.”

“Where do you think she is now?” Violet asked. “Who is Marion hiding in shadowy corners with while you’re tangled up with Nori?”

His fist clenched on the goblet’s neck so suddenly that wine slopped over the side, wetting the wrist of his shirt.

He needed a refill.

Konig stalked away from his mother, and she went back to casting wards outside the ballroom.

She’d get more respectful once he became king.

If
he became king.

Konig returned to the party. He was greeted warmly by the Oceania Witches, whom he knew on a social level. People he should have enjoyed talking with. He barely heard them.

Anger vibrated through his bones.

He caught sight of Deirdre Tombs alone near the buffet. She wasn’t eating or drinking.

“Excuse me,” he said, dismissing the Oceania Witches.

Konig refilled his goblet and joined Deirdre.

She rolled a glowing blue cube of lethe between her forefinger and thumb. When he leaned against the wall beside her, she clutched it in her fist. “If you’re going to be taking drugs, you may as well do it with the rest of the sidhe,” Konig said. “Nobody will judge you here.”

“I don’t use anymore,” Deirdre said, pocketing the lethe. “I like looking at it. The pretty colors help me think.”

“What a waste of good lethe.” The wine was hot in his veins, emboldening him. If his mother didn’t believe he could take over the Winter Court, then the surest way to prove her wrong would be to confront the problem head-on. “Let’s talk somewhere alone.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“You don’t want anyone else to hear what I have to say,” Konig said. He gestured at the dancers just a few feet away with his goblet. “Wouldn’t it be terrible if all these people learned the truth about you?”

Deirdre’s eyes darkened. “You don’t have the stones to bully me.”

At that moment, Konig felt like he had the “stones” for anything. All the rage that he couldn’t take out on his mother was clawing at the inside of his throat. “I know you’re connected to the Stark terrorists,” Konig said in a low voice. “I know you’re spending months at a time on their property in Africa. If you don’t want everyone else to know that, you’ll cancel the vote.”

Deirdre folded her arms. “Oh yeah? Is that what you know?”

“Cancel the vote,” he said more firmly.

Her flesh shimmered with faint flames. It lifted her hair around her shoulders as though a breeze blew in her face. “Or else what? You think I’m afraid of you telling people I like to vacation in Jo’burg?”

“I could have old investigations into you reopened.”

“I doubt that. I seriously do.” Deirdre leaned on the buffet table, which had been grown out of ice. She was hot enough that the surface began to sweat. “You’ve got no idea what you’re talking about, pretty boy, and there’s
nothing
you can do to me. But there’s a lot I can do to you if you piss me off.”

“I’m not afraid of you.”

“That’s not what it looks like. You wouldn’t be in my face if you weren’t.” Deirdre sniffed him, and she recoiled, nose wrinkling. “And you really wouldn’t need liquid courage to do it if you weren’t afraid.”

“The Secretary of the Office of Preternatural Affairs is here,” Konig said. “I’ll tell him everything right now.”

“He already knows. Surprised? You wouldn’t be if you’d done real research.”

The melting table dripped cold onto Konig’s shoe. He twitched.

Deirdre smiled. “I joined the terrorists because I was undercover for the OPA. We moved Stark’s family to South Africa under protective custody, and I check in on them all the time. Have you met the Alpha, Rylie Gresham? You know what a soft spot she’s got for family bullshit? And you know how kindly she’d react to you threatening this family I’m taking care of?”

Konig didn’t know. He knew very little about that, in fact. Rylie was a matter that Marion handled.

Deirdre flared until he could feel the sheer heat radiating from her shifter-flesh.

“Right now, Rylie’s the only ally you’ve got for this wedding because of that soft spot of hers, but it’ll vanish if you flap your mouth,” she said softly. “And for what? I can’t even cancel the vote. It’s locked in.”

He was getting hot now too, but not from her fire—from frustration.

Konig should have gotten more information from Nori. Shouldn’t have jumped the gun. Should have waited.

“I’ve been reading up on you, too, Prince ErlKonig,” Deirdre said. “I know you’ve got this election rigged.”

He took care not to show his surprise. “You don’t know anything.”

“You’re hours from having the wards on Niflheimr fail completely because a non-sidhe steward’s been in control for so long. If you don’t take control, then the whole Winter Court’s going to be exposed—and the steward will have to surrender control of Niflheimr to your parents. They couldn’t even set foot in the palace until recently. So either way, the Autumn Court’s going to end up in charge.” She leaned in close, glowering at him. “I’ll have an army ready for when your parents move their angel allies into this plane.”

Konig emptied his cup and slammed it on the table, splashing water over the side. “That’s not true. My parents never took Niflheimr because they didn’t want it.”

“They wanted it all right,” Deirdre said. “They even gave aid to the Summer Court’s invading forces back in the day. But the Winter Queen had them locked out until Marion took over. Now all they have to do is wait.”

That wasn’t what his parents had told him.

“They were friends with the Winter Queen and King,” he protested. “You’re lying.”

“Bet I know more about sidhe history than you do. I get around more than your average shifter.” She shoved the cube of lethe into his hand. “Take this and enjoy a few numb hours. We all know this is going to end in war before the week’s out.”

T
he music
from the ballroom was much quieter with a couple walls of ice in the way. It faded quickly as Marion took Seth toward the bedrooms. The temperature also rapidly dropped. By the time they got to the staircase, she was shivering. “Why’s it more urgent to get into the servers now?” Marion asked, teeth chattering.

Seth jogged to keep up with her. “Lucifer says there’s information about the location of a mysterious weapon on there. And I don’t know if you noticed, but there’s a lot of people in your palace right now who shouldn’t have mysterious weapons.”

“What kind of weapon?”

“The mysterious kind. That’s seriously all I know. He thinks everyone’s after the servers so that they can find it in this other dimension, this missing ethereal plane.”

“Could the weapon be balefire?” Marion asked. “It must come from somewhere strange, since pure balefire burns through everything.”

“I hadn’t thought of that.” Seth grabbed her elbow. “If there’s information on balefire on the darknet, we could get into Duat.” Which meant they would be able to save Charity.

“Then let’s hope you have more success finding the darknet servers than I have.” Marion stopped in front of a towering bedroom door carved with the image of elaborate circuitry. She unlocked the handle with a wave of her hand. The cogs along the hinges clicked and thumped, whirring into motion so that the doors could swing open. “This is where the Hardwicks lived in the Winter Court. They started the darknet. One of the refugees suggested I might be able to get server access through here, but I already searched these rooms once and didn’t find anything.”

The Hardwicks had been rich in taste, and much less blue-collar than the king, who had decorated Niflheimr in icy cogs and chains. Their furniture was high-end Danish stuff. It must have been difficult to import to the Middle Worlds. There was a reason that the sidhe mostly grew their furniture using magic.

Seth shut and locked the door behind them before starting to search.

“I believe there are secret passages throughout Niflheimr,” Marion said, scuffing her feet along the tiled floors and listening for hollow parts. It was hard to tell with all the ice. “One of the other refugees, Ymir—he’s been sneaking around somehow.”

Seth started feeling along the bookshelves. “Makes sense. It’s not a good castle without secret passages.”

Marion watched him methodically investigate the sitting room, the dining room, and the attached kitchen. She hugged herself, trying to rub warmth into her upper arms. “Does this mean you’ve decided to become a vampire?”

“Probably,” Seth said without looking back. “Did I ever tell you I tried to become a werewolf once?”

Marion’s heart flipped. “So you could mate with Rylie?”

“Yeah, but it turned out I was immune to the curse. Vampire’s not that much worse than werewolf, and miles better than being a god whose job is to kill people.”

“Rylie wants to kill me.” The words leaped out unbidden.

Seth turned from inspecting the underside of a lamp. “What? No she doesn’t.”

“When I was looking up information on the OPA databases, I looked into my file as well. Rylie recorded testimony saying that I’m dangerous. She believes that it’s important to have plans in place to kill me.”

To his credit, he didn’t try to deny it again. He raked a hand over his hair. “Jesus, Rylie.”

“Just think,” Marion said, trying to make her tone light, “in another universe where you mated to Rylie, you’d probably be planning to kill me, too.”

Seth set the lamp down. “Listen, Marion. There’s no universe in which I’d try to kill you. Not if I was a werewolf, not when I’m a death god, not even if I was possessed by a demon.
None
.” He took her by the elbows, and his brow furrowed. “Damn, you’re cold.”

“Sleeveless dress.” Her chin quivered. “Doesn’t look good for the future Queen of the Winter Court to be freezing in her own palace, does it?”

“Nobody’s going to judge you while we’re sneaking around in condemned parts of your palace.” He slipped the jacket off of his shoulders and settled it over Marion.

The right pocket weighed heavily against her side. She slipped her hand in. “What’s this?”

“A wedding present,” Seth said. “I almost forgot.”

She pulled it out.

It was a water bottle with the label ripped off.

“Oh my,” Marion said. “You know, when you do a gift registry, you always realize that you must have forgotten a few things, but water bottles… I suppose that
is
the gift you get the mage who already has everything.”

He didn’t smile back. “That’s from Mnemosyne. The river of memory in Sheol.”

It suddenly felt much heavier in Marion’s hands. “Oh.”

“I don’t know if it’ll work. Everything was supposed to be in the Canope. But I thought, if there’s a chance…” He shrugged.

Marion returned the bottle to the pocket. “Thank you, Seth. I’m not going to drink it. But thank you.”

His eyebrows lifted. “Why?”

“I’ve spent weeks coming to terms with the fact that the woman I used to be is gone. Dead, in a way. But nothing was lost when the Canope broke. I truly believe that.”

“Hey.” Seth’s tone was sharper than a knife. “Don’t talk about yourself like that.”

“Very well. I won’t say it out loud where you can hear me.”

He shoved her shoulder, gently. “Be nice to yourself. Out loud and in your head. I’ve got enough self-loathing for you, me, and everyone else in the Winter Court.”

Marion’s heart unknotted and turned inside out and back-flipped. “
You
have self-loathing?”

“I drank Mnemosyne,” Seth said. “I wanted to know what kind of god stuff I’d forgotten becoming avatar. And now I know why I came back.”

She didn’t need to drink any water out of the Nether Worlds to know that. “To save Rylie from Deirdre.”

“That’s the thing, Marion. I didn’t come back to save Rylie. I saw her die and…I didn’t do anything. I didn’t
care
.”

She ran her fingers over his knuckles, as though soothing a hurt from knocking a door too hard. “How do you know that you didn’t let her die because that’s the natural order of things?”

“Rylie’s death isn’t natural. She gets shot.”

“All death is as natural as being born. It’s something that happens to all of us eventually. We don’t get to choose.” The words weren’t touching Seth. Marion could see the hurt in him, and she wanted to take it away, but she couldn’t. “I wouldn’t be happy with that answer either, just so you know. Nothing is beyond my control. If I were a god, I’d want to save everyone too, just like you.”

That elicited a small smile from him. “I didn’t want to save anyone. I didn’t care about anything.” Seth’s eyes had gone unfocused, seeing to places and times that Marion couldn’t imagine. “Being God is the ultimate detachment. The universe moves through you, but you don’t have anything to do with it.”

“Something inspired you to become an avatar.”

“A grudge against Elise,” he said.

“You willed yourself back immediately after Genesis. I’m sure it was for a better reason than annoying my sister.”

“Coincidence.”

“You won’t let me talk about myself badly, but you’re dismissing your own strengths as though they’re nothing.” Marion smoothed her fingers over the back of his hand again. “You are anything but an unfeeling god, Dr. Flynn.”

He finally focused on her. It was the old pseudonym that had snapped him out of himself. “When I become a god again, I’m not going to care about you either. I won’t care that you’re marrying Konig. And I won’t care that you’ll die.”

Each statement lashed out at her, though she knew that it was part of Seth’s self-flagellation, whipping himself with something he considered bitter truth. “I may not be a god, but I know if I walked outside of time, I would never stop caring.” Her throat worked. It felt like she was swallowing needles. “I wouldn’t stop caring about
you
.”

Seth’s only response was to pull her against his chest.

The embrace surprised her, though not unpleasantly. She let her arms creep around him carefully to tighten her fingers on the small of his back, where the fatal wounds from the Hounds had yet to spread.

The locks on the hallway door clicked. The handles shifted.

Marion turned, lifting her hands reflexively to cast spells.

Who would be trying to enter the bedroom of a sidhe couple who hadn’t lived in Niflheimr for years?

“Pantry,” Seth whispered.

He dragged her away before she could summon any spells to mind.

“This is my palace! I don’t need to hide!” Marion hissed back.

“Don’t you want to know who else is looking for the darknet?” Seth pushed her through the door beside the fire pit, slipping in behind her. He left it open an inch so that he could watch the room on the other side.

There wasn’t a lot of space in the pantry for two people and one voluminous party dress. Unexpected adrenaline thrilled through Marion at the dig of the shelf into her spine and the press of Seth’s knee against hers. They weren’t as close as they had been while dancing, but it was much quieter and more private, and her pounding heart was too aware of it.

Seth’s hand crept to the small of his back as he peered through the crack in the door. He wasn’t distracted by Marion. He was focused on what was going on, instead of how much warmer it was to be closed up in a tiny pantry with someone who wasn’t her fiancé.

She wasn’t shivering anymore.

Marion lifted onto her toes to look over Seth’s shoulder.

Whoever entered the Hardwicks’ room wasn’t dressed for the party. It was a short, broad figure cloaked in a hooded sweater, like the kind purchased in university bookstores. Not the kind that a person would wear to a fancy political gala.

The person was walking briskly towards the pantry.

“Seth,” Marion hissed.

He pushed her back with one hand, while the other crept to the small of his back to draw a handgun.

When she took a step closer to the rear corner of the pantry, her heel slipped on uneven floor.

Marion fell with a tiny gasp.

Her hand flew out. Her reaction time was good enough that she realized she shouldn’t grab the pantry shelves—not unless she wanted to pull a lot of jarred fruit on top of her head—but not good enough to remain standing without help. So her fingers closed on the back of Seth’s shirt.

Both of them hit the ground with a loud
thump
. Probably too loud to hope that the intruder didn’t hear it.

Seth was braced above Marion on his elbows. It was too dark in the pantry to see his face clearly—and dark enough that light glimmered through his shirt where he’d been wounded, despite the glamour hanging from his neck.

“Are you okay?” Seth sounded alarmed, like he couldn’t imagine what could have made her fall.

She couldn’t seem to draw in a chestful of air. It had nothing to do with Seth atop her or the snugness of her dress.

Her fingers spread across his chest. The energy underneath called to her, begging to be unleashed. But above that energy, there was nothing but human muscle and flesh.

“No,” Marion said. “I’m not okay.”

The pantry door flew open. The intruder in the hoodie stood on the other side.

Seth was on his knees instantly, turning to bring the gun to bear.

His reaction wasn’t as fast as that of the sidhe.

Heather Cobweb and a Raven Knight materialized behind the intruder in a flash of light. The relief that Marion felt was only secondary to the shock—not just from suddenly finding herself in an apartment filled with sidhe, but being seen by Konig’s guard with Seth.

“On the ground!” Heather commanded, her belt knife drawn.

The intruder didn’t argue, but they also weren’t in a hurry to comply. Marion thought she heard curse words grumbled as the hooded figure got down.

Heather ripped the hood off to expose the intruder.

Dana McIntyre rolled her eyes. “I take it I’m under arrest?”

* * *

D
ana was clearly
a woman accustomed to being arrested. She made herself comfortable in the dungeon, propping her feet up on the wall and reclining against the floor. The sidhe’s magical bindings didn’t cramp her style at all.

She also wasn’t intimidated by the company she kept. The Raven Knights and Heather Cobweb were bad enough on their own. Having the Onyx Queen, Seth, Marion, and Konig looming over her should have made her slightly nervous. Add in the fact that Jibril was waiting in the hall…

Yet Dana was as relaxed as though she were having a spa day.

“Really, Dana?” Marion asked, arms folded over her chest. “Are you so angry at me that you’d invade my wedding festivities? I know I hurt you, but this—this is
low
.”

“Self-centered as always. You think everything’s a personal grudge against you,” Dana said.

“I’m confused,” Heather said. “Who is this, exactly?”

“Dana McIntyre is a triadist and mercenary who operates out of Las Vegas.” Marion sighed. “And she’s my sister.”

That surprised a laugh out of Heather. “
She’s
your sister?”