Charmed Vengeance (26 page)

“Noli, Noli wait,” Jeff called from behind her.

Noli didn’t stop or slow down. When Jeff caught up with her his cheeks pinked with exertion, chestnut curls messy.

“What did you do?” Jeff asked softly, eyes searching as he kept pace with her.

“We can trust him.” In some ways she thought of Kevighn as a friend. Either way, he understood exactly why Brogan couldn’t posses
anything
which would give him any more power than he already had.

Jeff shook his head. “There’s no trusting a man like that.”

Noli wasn’t going to grace that statement with a reply.

“Did the faeries kidnap you?” His voice went soft.

“Yes.” She looked ahead as she walked, slowing slightly.

“And Charlotte, the one who gave you the knife and the magic valise, she’s a faery?”

“Charlotte? No, she was mortal.”

“Why did they kidnap you?” He said this in seriousness, as if he truly wanted to understand.

She might as well tell him the truth. “Because they wanted to kill me.”

Jeff stopped in his tracks. “They what?”

For a moment she studied his familiar face. He’d changed so much since they were children. His words in the alley about money and doing business proved that.

“Do you know anything about their culture?” Pain colored her voice as she thought of sweet Charlotte. Of how much James had loved her. “Every seven years they find a mortal girl with something they call the Spark. It’s that something special some people have. You often see it in the great painters, musicians, inventors, and such. They lure the chosen girl into their realm, ply her with beautiful things and attention, sometimes she’s even seduced. Then, they kill her to feed the land, the very magic, that composes their world. Otherwise, the Otherworld, and all those who call it home, will perish.”

“My word, they wanted to kill you?” His face contorted into a look of sheer terror. “The realm of faerie lives off the blood of girls?”

“It does. They would have sacrificed me, had Charlotte not volunteered to take my place.” Tears pricked her eyes and she dabbed them with her handkerchief. “I don’t want to talk about this.”

He pulled her close to him. “Noli, none of this makes sense.”

“It’s the truth. I regret all my dealings with them.” All except for V. “You have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into.” She flinched as pain poured through her voice.

“Who’s Brogan?”

“He conspired to exile his own brother and take over the throne of the earth court.” She didn’t hide her bitterness.

Jeff blinked. “He’s the king?”

“
A
king, earth court king.” For some reason his ignorance angered her. “Jeff, if you don’t know anything about the Fae, you shouldn’t be doing business with them.”

“What is Kevighn?” He said Kevighn’s name as if it tasted bad, completely ignoring Noli’s scolding.

Revealing Kevighn’s role in all this wouldn’t be prudent. “Nothing. Kevighn’s naught but an exile—granted a crafty, resourceful one. But really, why are you doing business with them?”

“I’m sorry, Noli, but I can’t tell you.” Not one sliver of regret tinged his voice or gleamed in his eyes. “Now, please, why don’t we go have that tea and you can explain all this. Like if Kevighn is an exile how can you be so sure he’ll bring us the money.”

Noli looked at her brother, crestfallen. “The money? You can’t tell me why you’re stealing dangerous artifacts and selling them to an unscrupulous king and all you want to know is about the
money
?” She waved her parasol at him. “No, I’m not going anyplace with you. Not until you explain.”

Picking up her skirts, she ran and didn’t stop until she’d lost Jeff. When she had, she put her back to a wall and caught her breath, refusing to cry or allow her knees to buckle. No, she had no time for this. Right now, she needed to find the teahouse and meet Kevighn before Jeff did. This way she’d get her answers or her brother wouldn’t get the money. If he refused to tell her, she’d go to Vix.

Yes, if Jeff was stealing things for faeries, odds were the ship’s captain knew all about it.

Valise in hand, Kevighn hummed a merry tune, step light as he traipsed down the street. Jeff and his mortal crew had no idea what they were about to do. And Magnolia—the fact she trusted him enough to give him the attaché case made his heart soar.

Now, to find Ciarán.

If the king wanted to be found a simple finding spell should do the trick. Kevighn followed the spell through the city. A grin spread across his face when he saw where it led and he remembered what Roderick had said about a particular opium den.

Ah, how he’d had wasted away many a day here at the Red Pearl.

As he strolled through the front gates he glanced at the yellow house beside it and shuddered. Soulless place that Findlay House.

Mr. Chun, the owner, opened the door. A puzzled expression crossed his face as he peered at Kevighn. “May I help you?”

“Mr. Chun, it’s Kevighn Silver. I’m here to meet someone; I believe he’s already here. He goes by Kyran or Ciarán.” Kevighn couldn’t help but feel the tiniest bit wounded that Mr. Chun didn’t recognize him considering all the time and money he’d spent here.

Then again, he’d always dressed impeccably on his visits. Today he looked like an air pirate in need of a bath. How did Magnolia manage to stay so neat and clean? Especially given her position on the ship?

“Ah, Mr. Silver, it’s been some time.” He looked up and down in a way that made Kevighn think he might not be allowed in. Finally, Mr. Chun stepped aside. “He is in the garden and is expecting you.”

“I appreciate it.” Kevighn walked through the house into the lavish back gardens filled with nooks and grottos. Even in winter the gardens remained green and beautiful. Through the fence he spied two girls in gray hanging laundry on a line over at the school. Neither laughed nor smiled. What a waste.

Kevighn felt someone standing behind him.

“Do you know what that place is?” Kevighn indicated the school on the other side of the fence. “It’s a place where they
beat
the Spark out of young girls in their prime. Literally.”

“There’s also a wild portal in their back garden, someone should take care of that,” a mild and familiar voice replied.

Oh yes, he’d forgotten about that. The portal in the faery tree was what Magnolia’s innocent midsummer’s wish had used to bring her into the Otherworld to begin with.

“I’d meant to send someone to check on it, but with all the activities surrounding, well, everything, I forgot.” Kevighn still didn’t turn around, apprehension building inside him. Where he hoped Ciarán would welcome him back with open arms, there was the chance he wouldn’t.

Ciarán had brought him and his sister into their fold to protect them from the wrath of the fire court given Creideamh’s throwback earth talent. Fire court and earth court were foils and bitter enemies. Not to mention, her abilities broke certain laws.

After Creideamh’s death he’d turned his back on the dark court and taken the position as the high queen’s huntsman to ease his pain.

“I’ve been expecting you, Kevighn Silver-Tongue,” Ciarán replied. “Though I
was
expecting you sooner.”

Kevighn turned to face the man behind him. The smile offered wasn’t cool, predatory, or fake, which offered some relief—but only some.

He got on one knee in the soft grass. “I’m sorry, Your Majesty. You … ” His voice lowered, as did his eyes. “You were right.”

A chuckle, albeit not a vicious one, reached his ears. “I always am.” Ciarán held out a hand and pulled Kevighn up. “You’ve known ever since Tiana took the throne that your days as huntsman were numbered.” He shook his head. “That one’s not right.”

Only Ciarán, as Tiana’s opposite, could ever make a comment such as that out loud. She wasn’t nearly as good a queen—or as mentally stable—as her older sister.

Ciarán was a little older than Kevighn, but young for a dark king. A dangerous job for a dangerous man. Dark hair hung in his amber eyes. Dressed as a gentleman it was difficult to tell exactly how ruthless he was, which was probably the point. For once the dark king wasn’t flanked by henchman, but that didn’t mean they didn’t lurk nearby.

“I … I hear you have something for me to do?” Kevighn’s chest didn’t untighten. People changed. Certainly, he had.

“I might.” The corners of his lips twitched.

“Perhaps it involves some artifacts?” Kevighn remembered that he didn’t have much time. “I have something that might be of interest to you.” He handed the case to him. “King Brogan hired some mortals to steal these. How he knew where they were, I don’t know. Also, he’s using the alias
Kyran.
I have a feeling you might be interested in that information,”

Ciarán sat on a nearby bench and opened the case. “Oh my. So that’s who’s been after my quarry. I wondered who had similar business interests but hadn’t been able to discover who.”

“So I was right in thinking this shouldn’t be in Brogan’s hands—and that you might find them useful?” Kevighn continued to stand, hope taking seed.

“Indeed.” Ciarán looked up at him. “These are for me?”

“If you are willing to pay for them. I only ask because the mortals I took them from were depending on the money from Brogan.” Unlike Brogan, Ciarán would use them for the good of the Otherworld.

First, he’d get the money; he didn’t want to disappoint Magnolia.

Ciarán’s eyebrows rose. “You care about mortals? Has exile made you compassionate?”

He cared about Magnolia. “The woman I took them from is one of us.”

“Why doesn’t it surprise me that a woman is at the center of this?” Ciarán chuckled. “If I get you your money, will you finally come home where you belong?”

Kevighn bowed his head, focusing on the grass. “I never should have left.”

“Your cabin is still there, so is the grove. I know how much they mean to you. You know you’re always welcome to stay with me.” His voice grew tentative.

“Your work?” Kevighn suspected it had been. His cabin and the grove should have disappeared when the queen exiled him. Very few possessed the power to keep them there.

Ciarán nodded. “The grove is Creideamh’s. Also, the cabin wasn’t Tiana’s to take.”

“I am grateful for it, Your Majesty.” Kevighn bowed in thanks. Ciarán’s gift would have strings, but not the way an equitable gift from Queen Tiana would. “May I ask, why?”

“How could I not forgive you? Bedsides,” he grinned slyly. “As I’ve said before, I’m in need of someone with your skills.” He closed the attaché case.

“Which talents would those be?” By the Bright Lady, he’d missed Ciarán.

“You’ll see.” His look grew devilish. “I’m glad you’re back. Things are brewing in the Otherworld and I need you by my side.”

“You’ll allow me back?” Relief washed over him. Friendship aside, he wasn’t sure what Ciarán would decide. Accepting a banished high court huntsman wasn’t a light decision.

“With one condition.” Ciarán held up a finger.

Kevighn’s stomach tightened. “Of course, Your Majesty.”

“Don’t leave again. Next time, come to me and I’ll help you.” For a moment, Ciarán’s eyes flashed with pain.

He exhaled, chest catching. “I promise.”

“Good.” Ciarán stood and embraced him. “Do you have time for a drink so I may tell you what has happened and what I need you so do?”

“I actually need to deliver the money first—after that, your wish is my command.” Kevighn bowed, grateful Ciarán forgave him. Could he convince Magnolia to come with him? She was as wasted on that ship as much as she was with that whelp of an earth court prince.

Ciarán clapped him on the shoulder. “Anything for you, Kevighn. Anything for you.”

Elation increased with every step as Steven made his way down the wooden dock of the San Francisco Air Terminal with James, Hittie, and Hattie. They’d arrived in one piece. The Vixen’s Revenge was in port. The end of this blasted quest lay in sight. Finally.

“What now?” Hattie asked James. The airship captain seemed to have a soft spot for his younger brother. For some reason the ladies always seemed to like him.

“We get Rahel and take her home,” Steven replied. And get their automaton. Then people would stop trying to help them, kill them, and kill them by helping them. Hopefully.

They stopped in front of a ship bigger than Hayden’s Follies but smaller than the larger passenger ships. It had gleaming brass and several balloons keeping it aloft, a crow’s nest peaking between them. A very large dark man stood on a ladder, making repairs to the hull.

“Run into trouble, Asa?” Hittie called.

The dark man waved. “Hittie, Hattie, you made it. The captain will be happy to see you. We were all worried.”

“We’re fine, as always,” Hattie replied. “Takes more than MoBatts to keep us down.”

Asa laughed. “That it does. Captain!” he bellowed. “Look who blew into town.”

A boy appeared on the top of the ship. He was in need of a haircut, a lock of blue hanging in his eyes. His face broke out into a wide grin. “You’re here!” It took Steven a moment to realize the boy was actually a woman. The woman slid down a ladder and landed gracefully on the dock. She and the other women embraced.

“Vix, how can we help?” Hittie asked.

Captain Vix smiled. “Do you have your own repairs? I hope they didn’t get you too badly.”

“Surprisingly enough, our passengers helped.” Hittie gave them a less-than-tart look. “We still have work to do, but we can always lend a hand.”

“Passengers?” Vix focused on him and James in a way that made him feel as if he were in trouble.

“Bounty hunters,” Hattie replied. “Hired to find one of the little girls you took from those nasty rascals. Are they still onboard?”

By the Bright Lady he hoped so.

“Actually they are; I was waiting for Jeff to get back before I took them over. But if you’re willing to help, I’d appreciate it. I don’t like having them onboard longer than necessary,” Vix replied.

Jeff wasn’t onboard? Relief shuddered through him.

“Always happy to help,” Hattie replied. “Which one are you here for?” she asked them.