Prince by Blood and Bone: A Fantasy Romance of the Black Court (Tales of the Black Court) (27 page)

Bryanna paused in stripping off her dress. Her skin iced in fear and she started to lace it back on. “Logan is the queen’s man? I thought he was one of Kian’s.”

Kian was down there alone with that vicious puca and a traitor.

“No, it’s okay.” Trina pulled her back and started unlacing the dress for her. “He’s not the queen’s.”

Bryanna quivered with the need to go.

“It’s okay, really. He’s loyal to the prince.” Trina helped her out of the confining fabric and handed her the jeans. “Trust me. We’ve been searching Kian for months now.”

“Months? You’ve only been gone a few weeks?” She counted back the two weeks she’d been in Cairngloss plus the days Trina had been gone. “A month tops.” The pants fit, even if they weren’t long enough to reach past her ankles. She eyed her shorter, curvier cousin. Trina’s jeans, for sure.

“It’s Underhill, baby.” Trina grinned. “Every time we come here time shifts. How long have you been here?”

“A couple of weeks.” She looked at the top. “Do you have a bra in there?”

Trina dug deeper into the bag. “Here, try this.” She tossed her a long strapless bustier and Bryanna tried it on. It was a little tight, and didn’t quite fit, just like Trina’s jeans had turned into nearly capris on her. She picked up the top and pulled it over her head. Her ankles would be cold, but she’d be able to move in a hurry.

“Do you have a jacket? I think this is going to be cold.”

Trina stuck her head back into the bag and dug. “How about this?”

“Cute.” The jacket was dark green wool with a Mandarin collar and brass buttons up to the neck.

“It’s from World War One, or Two.”

Bryanna tried it on. “Where in the world did you find this?” Unlike the pants, the sleeves were long enough, even if the buttons were a little tight across her chest.

“It’s a long story. Hey, it fits you and it’s not a dress.” She dug back into her bag. “How about this to go under it?” She tossed Bryanna a long sleeve shirt. “So you think I’ve been gone weeks.” Trina shook her head. “It’s been almost a year for me since I left you.”

“A year?” Bryanna sank back into her chair, the shirt clutched in her hands. Her head spun and she almost didn’t know what to feel now, except confusion. “Why didn’t you find us? Tell us you were safe?”

“I wanted to. I tried to get a message to you, but you were gone. For me, you disappeared months ago. Gypsy rumor has it that all of the MacElvys are dead now.” Trina’s voice grew bitter. “And we need to let them think we’re dead, otherwise, the queen might start her search again.”

Bryanna didn’t even know what to say. She unbuttoned the jacket and pulled it off. A year had gone by? Was it really a year? It had only been a few weeks since they’d been in New Mexico. Maybe a month since they’d left Trina in Wyoming. How long had it been for Trina before she’d even tried to find them? Would it have made a difference?

“So you stayed with him instead of looking for us,” she said. “An elf.” She was unable to keep the sting from her words and she pulled on the shirt.

“I love him.” Trina said quietly. She reached for Bryanna’s hand. “Bree, you have to understand.”

Bryanna snatched her hand back. “He’s fae! He’ll use you, and manipulate you, and throw you away.”

Trina smiled. A hazy, sucker-in-love, kind of smile. “He’s not like that.”

“Oh, Trina. They’re all the same. They’re all like that.” She blew out a breath and reached back for Trina’s outstretched hand. “I know you want to believe him, Goddess knows I do, too. I wish Kian was caring—that he thought of me first——but it will never happen.”

“Kian?” Trina’s eyes went wide. She squeezed Bryanna’s hand painfully tight. “Bryanna, how in the hell could you be involved with that thing?”

“You don’t understand. So much to tell you and so little time.” Outside, the sun was climbing high into the pale, wintry sky. Another day would be gone before she’d found her mother and sister. “We need to get moving before they notice we’re gone.”

“Moving? I don’t understand. Why don’t we have time?”

“Kian seems to think that we’ll be safe here for a while, but I don’t think he’s right. Mom and Cassie are missing…I think they’re in trouble.”

“Start from the beginning.” Trina ordered.

“There’s no time.”

“I’m not going anywhere without an explanation. Spill.” Trina sank back into her chair, looking like she’d grown roots.

Trina was the oldest MacElvy cousin. Ever since her parents had been killed and she’d joined their family, she and Cassie had vied for leadership, but Bryanna had always been the baby. The relief she felt at falling into the familiar role of youngest again, was amazing. Trina was here. She’d take over and make the decisions. She’d take care of all of Bryanna’s problems.

“Fine.”

Bryanna told her everything. Almost. She left out how confused she was about Kian and how much she wished everything about him was different. His title, his curse, his mother.

Afterwards, Trina’s face was hard and she pushed out of her chair. “Logan will find them.”

Bryanna pulled her back down. “No. We don’t need him. We have this.” She pulled out the locket. Its reassuring hum sang of success. “It shows you how to find your deepest desire, and right now, that’s Cassie and Mom. Look.” She opened the gleaming sides and showed Trina a picture of the two of them heading down the stairs. “See, it shows me where to go next. All we have to do is sneak out of here and go.”

Now it was Trina who laid her hand on Bryanna’s arm, keeping her in place. “Hold on.”

“What? We’re wasting time.”

“I know you want to go off on our own, but we’ll find them faster with Logan’s help. He can track them. It’s his Gift.”

“Who is he?”

“He’s—he was—the queen’s huntsman. His Gift is hunting. And tracking. And woodsmanship. He’ll find them for us faster and safer than following that locket.” “Logan will.”

Bryanna studied her cousin. “You mean the man who wouldn’t let you contact your own family?”

“It wasn’t safe to contact you.”

“That man, downstairs, who barely let you come up here to the bedroom with your own cousin? You think he’ll let you look for Mom and Cassie?”

Trina shifted her gaze away. “Well, he might not want me to go, but he’ll help you.”

Something wasn’t right. “Trina, what aren’t you telling me?”

Trina’s face got this crazy bemused look and Bryanna suddenly wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

“I’m pregnant,” Trina said, a soft grin spreading across her face. Her hand rose to cradle her abdomen. “Logan and I are having a baby.”

The world fell out from under Bryanna’s feet. “A MacElvy? Carrying an elven lord’s baby?” Her brain whirled. “There hasn’t been a fae baby in our family in generations. Mom is going to flip.”’

Trina stood up, seeming to grow taller and stronger. She spoke, authoritative steel laced into her voice. “I can’t endanger the baby, Bryanna. I won’t. Not even for Cassie and Aunt Theresa. This baby is the last of Logan’s line and the next MacElvy witch.”

Kian stared at Logan Ni Brennan.

Alive.

“What the fuck has the bitch-queen done to you?” The huntsman shook his head and looked Kian up and down. “I thought she’d killed you, but this might be worse than death.”

Kian grinned.

Logan jerked back. “Man, those are some teeth you have there.”

Kian stretched his lips wider, and showed off his long, sharp fangs. “I thought you’d be happy she gave me a handicap in the race for the ladies.”

Logan laughed. “That’s the truth. But it seems you’ve managed to find one anyway. Somehow, under all that hair, she must see something in you.”

Solanum leaned forward and hooked a finger under Kian’s kilt. “She sees something.”

He knocked away the puca’s hand. “Back off, shadow-spawn.”

“Temper, temper, Kian.” Solanum eased away, his playful grin edging on dangerous.

The hair on the back of Kian’s neck and back lifted, and he growled. “Prince Kian to you.”

Logan dropped to one knee. “Your Highness, I’m sorry.” He bowed his head. “We are being presumptuous.”

Kian reached to pull Logan up, then looked at his claws and sighed. “Rise, Logan.”

“Why should you bow to this cur?” Solanum demanded. “He forgot you, forgot his people, forgot his responsibilities. He’s been off shagging some blond and left you to rot in his mother’s dungeon. Left all his men to the queen’s mercies.”

Logan stood, pulled his sword from its sheath, and held it to the puca’s throat. Solanum barely blinked, his hot, angry eyes fixed on Kian’s.

“He’s my liege,” Logan said. “I’m the one who failed him. Look at him.” He gestured at Kian. “Do you think he’d choose this shape?”

Kian’s skin flushed, and he was grateful for the fur covering his mortification. Even Logan, as near a friend as he’d ever had, saw him as monstrous.

Solanum raised one slender, black eyebrow and snorted. “Nay, he’d be a right idiot.” He pushed the blade away from his throat and asked, “Are you an idiot, Your Highness?”

Kian growled and turned to Logan. “If I could have come to you, I would have.”

There was a moment of silence and Logan’s face shut down.

He stared at his friend, knowing he’d failed him. He’d failed all the men and women who had backed him against his mother. He’d been young and foolish and they had all placed their faith in him. “I’m sorry,” he said. There was nothing left to say.

“Hey, she is what she is.” Logan’s face contracted and Kian knew that it had been bad, more than bad, in his mother’s dungeon. “None of us were ready. We should have been better prepared.”

They should have. Rebellion against a queen was never easy, but against the Black Queen, it had been suicide. He saw the deaths of their friends reflected in Logan’s eyes.

And he turned away. “Enough of this, we need plans.” He led the way into the next room and indicated the bar. “Have a drink.”

He could do nothing for those dead men now. But he could do something for any that were left. Including this one. Restitution, even if that were all that were left to him, he’d take it and shove it down his mother’s throat.

“Your Highness?” Logan offered him a glass but Kian shook his head.

“In this shape, I only drink alone.” He wasn’t using his long tongue to lap whiskey from a glass in front of the puca, or anyone, for that matter.

Logan poured himself a glass and saluted Kian before taking a sip of amber whiskey.

“I’ve been free of my prison for only a day, and already you’ve found me,” Kian said, nodding and acknowledging Logan’s gesture, wishing he could sample the bite of alcohol and drink to his friend’s freedom from the queen’s dungeon. “What of the others?”

“Stephan is under my uncle’s protection in the human’s world. I’ve gotten in touch with those few I trust. Most of your men are dead, the rest in hiding. We can come up with a force, but Danu…look at you.” Logan shook his head. In his clear, blue eyes Kian read pity. “Can you even hold a sword?”

“Nay, I cannot.” Rage thickened his voice. “But I can fight with tusks and teeth and claw, and if it comes down to it, I will rip my mother to pieces before I let her kill another of my men.”

“Ah, now we come to it.” A fierce smile spread Solanum’s lips wide. “We hunt the Black Queen. We’ll open the veins of the Tuathan bitch and let the blood flow.” He capered and jigged across the room.

“Not yet,” Kian said. “I have an oath to fulfill to Bryanna first.”

Solanum stilled, red flames leaping high in his dark, depthless eyes.

“Are you bound to the lass then?” Logan asked.

“She helped free me from Cairngloss and I owe her a debt. I have hope she can throw off this curse and regain me my Gift. Once that’s done, I’ll have enough power at my disposal to take down the queen.”

“What oath have you made?” Logan asked.

“Her mother and sister are lost in the White Queen’s forest. Now that you’re here, finding them should be easy. We find the missing women, secure them here in the lodge, then we can make battle plans.”

“Will they be safe here? Solanum found you without any trouble once you opened the lodge. I won’t leave Trina where the queen can find her.”

“My mother doesn’t have a puca at her disposal, nor does she have her Huntsman. None at court can track like the two of you. And with four witches, a puca, and a fully Gifted lord such as yourself, we should be able to hide the lodge from the queen. If necessary, you can open a portal, and we’ll move them out.”

Logan frowned.

“It’s a sound plan.”

“Tell him.” Solanum shoved Logan on the shoulder.

“Back off.” Logan shoved back.

“Tell me what? What is it you’re hiding?”

Logan ran a hand through his hair and glowered at the puca. “I can open a portal, but I won’t be taking Trina through.”

“How did you get here if you didn’t take a portal? We’re worlds away from your uncle’s cottage.”

“We walked.”

“Walked?” Kian shook his head. “From where?”