The Ruby Kiss (22 page)

“Darn it.” She sucked in a breath, released it slowly. “We can’t walk away now. Twister needs help.”

With an apologetic glance at Nightshade, Ruby hurried to Devin, and they both disappeared into the Assembly Rooms. Nightshade ground his teeth and let the urge to smash his fist into the wall fade before he followed.

Fenrir was huddled against the wall near the door leading
out of the Unseelie Court. Twister crouched nearby, speaking softly in a foreign language. His father made a keening sound, slapping at his head and tugging his hair. Nightshade didn’t like Twister, but he took no pleasure from the fact he’d been right about Fenrir’s diminished mental faculties. Twister was white as a ghost, his expression rigid with distress.

Ruby was so tense that she trembled. Nightshade eased his arm around her. If he didn’t want to drive a wedge between them, he’d have to be understanding about her bond with the Unseelie king, so he gritted his teeth and made a conscious effort to wind down his annoyance.

“Is there anything we can do to help Twister?” he asked.

“He doesn’t know how to reach Fenrir,” Ruby said. “They can’t communicate.”

Devin caught Nightshade’s gaze and gave a slight shake of his head. This could only end badly.

Nightshade and Ruby followed Devin toward Twister, moving slowly so as not to spook Fenrir. “He can’t understand you, Twist,” Devin said under his breath, hunkering down beside him.

Twister pressed the heel of his hand to his forehead and closed his eyes. “Any suggestions? I’m at my wits’ end.”

Ruby crouched at Twister’s side. Nightshade followed suit behind her, his hands on her shoulders. “Let me call Troy,” he suggested. “He’s Fenrir’s brother. There’s a chance
he’ll
get through.”

“No,” Twister snapped.

“What’ve you got against Troy?” Twister’s antipathy grated on Nightshade’s nerves. It wasn’t fair that he blamed Devin’s father for what had happened to his family.

The Unseelie king visibly shrank, his shoulders slumping as his head fell forward. “Bloody Troy. He’s always right. He told me to put Fenrir out of his misery centuries ago. I should have listened.”

Ruby put her hand on Twister’s arm, and a spike of jealousy rocked Nightshade back on his heels. He rose to his feet and turned away, though the sudden movement made his head swim.

“Get down or you’ll spook Fenrir,” Twister shouted.

As predicted, Fenrir took off. He scampered along the edge of the room on all fours and disappeared through the door that led outside.

“Father!” Twister raced after him.

Devin vaulted upright and disappeared in a puff of smoke. Ruby went next. As she dashed after Twister, Nightshade followed, but his muscles were sore and weak, his head spinning with the exertion.

His heart thundered as he reached the opening. A stiff wind battered him, and he skidded to a halt beside Devin and Ruby on the edge of a precipice. A steep trail cut into the rock led downward and a deep forested gorge lay below. In the twilight gloom Nightshade stared down a rocky drop of at least two hundred feet to a gleaming ribbon of water marking the valley bottom. About twenty feet down, Twister clung to a rocky outcrop, his father’s hand clasped in his. Fenrir struggled and kicked for freedom.

“Dev,” Twister shouted, his voice thin with strain.

“I’ll go and find a rope, Twister.” Devin pelted back into the Assembly Rooms.

“Strewth!” Ruby collapsed to her knees and held her head. Tears squeezed out beneath her closed eyelids. “Twister’s animals are going mad in my mind,” she hissed at Nightshade. “
Help
him.”

“Ruby,” Twister called from below.

Nightshade swallowed back his jealousy and leaned forward to check how Twister was doing. The king’s fingers had slipped. He wasn’t going to be able to hang on much longer. “Shit,” he whispered to himself. Whatever he thought
of Twister, he couldn’t just stand there and let Fenrir fall to his death.

“Don’t worry.” He glanced back into the Assembly Rooms for Devin, but there was no sign of him. With a sigh, he cupped a reassuring hand around Ruby’s cheek then stepped off the cliff. His wings struck out, wrenching the aching muscles of his torso. Pain radiated through his body and he bit down, grunting between his teeth with the effort; for a moment he didn’t think he had the strength to carry his own body weight. He dropped faster than he intended, his breath sawing in and out of his lungs. He tasted blood in the back of his throat. It would be ironic if he tried to save Twister only to fall to his own death.

Twister had closed his eyes in concentration, one hand gripping Fenrir, the other hooked over a rocky point, white and bloodless with the strain.

“Nightshade, be careful.” Ruby’s voice sounded far off, her words swept away by the wind. He couldn’t think of her now, though. He couldn’t think of anything except the next minute, the next second. He counted his wing beats to stay focused and hold back the burning lethargy invading his muscles.

“Twister, I’ll get Fenrir up on the ledge,” he promised. Twister’s tense mask of concentration flickered for a second, indicating he’d heard.

As Nightshade approached the old man, Fenrir started twisting and kicking to get free. Maybe the poor devil understood what had happened to him and couldn’t face the future. Maybe it would be kinder to let him drop to his death . . .

He clasped the old man’s sinewy body, taking the weight from Twister; then, with the last of his strength, he beat his wings and lifted Fenrir back up onto the rocky ledge. He collapsed beside the old man, gasping for breath.

Twister dropped out of sight and a moment later his golden eagle form soared up and landed on the rocky shelf. The air
shimmered and he regained his human shape. He immediately embraced Fenrir, ignoring the blows the old man rained down on his head.

The others were still twenty feet above, but Nightshade flopped back against the rocks, his muscles like cotton wool. The shadowy glen swam in his vision.

Twister had behaved disgracefully in bonding with Ruby against her will and forcing her to face the huge wolf his father had become, but as Nightshade watched the king embrace the filthy, rag-clad body of his sire despite the bites and vicious punches raining down upon him, Nightshade’s anger faded. Twister’s efforts might have been misguided, but he’d clearly acted out of love. And had Nightshade’s own behavior toward Ruby been any better? When he’d first met her he’d thought of her only as a suitable mother for his son. He’d planned to mate with her and form a blood bond, then take her back to Cornwall. It hadn’t occurred to him to ask her if she wanted to leave her home to be with him or if she wanted to have his child. That hadn’t
even
been love. He’d been selfish beyond belief.

“Carry Fenrir to safety,” Twister said, a thread of desperation in his voice. “In eagle form, I’m not strong enough to do so.”

“Sorry, I haven’t the strength to fly myself up there let alone carry anyone.” Nightshade glanced at the ledge twenty feet above and discerned the pale shape of Ruby’s face.

Someone shouted, and a leather thong slithered down. Nightshade would have laughed if he’d had the energy. How ironic, that he should be saved by a whip.

“Fenrir goes first,” Twister said.

Nightshade lifted an eyebrow, but he was too groggy to care. He helped the Unseelie king loop the leather cord around Fenrir, who had finally stopped struggling and sunk into a morose trance.

Twister waved an arm, and those above hauled the old man
up the cliff. Fenrir bumped into the rocks as they raised him; he did not attempt to protect himself from injury. Twister pressed his forehead against his drawn up knees and clenched his fists among his dreadlocks.

“I was wrong to change him. So totally, unbelievably wrong.”

Nightshade remained silent. It would do no good to say “I told you so.”

At length, Twister looked up and gripped Nightshade’s arm. “You have been a better friend than I deserve.”

Nightshade turned his head and sucked in a breath. He felt sorry for Twister, but he couldn’t forgive him for endangering Ruby. For having bonded with Ruby.

The leather thong lowered again, and Nightshade knotted the strap around his waist. Lethargy invaded his body and brain. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could stay awake. Even when Twister waved his arm and the thong snapped tight, he barely had the strength to brace his hands against the rock face to hold himself clear. As he was hauled up, sharp granite grazed burning scratches across his arms and chest. The scent of his own blood filled his nostrils, and the gusts of chilly highland air cut into his marrow.

Nightshade’s eyelids dropped and his head flopped forward. Time stretched—an endless drag of buffeting wind and unforgiving rock while the twilight faded into night. He only jolted back to consciousness when warm hands gripped him beneath the arms and hauled him onto his back.

Ruby’s worried face appeared above him. Her fingers brushed back his hair, touched his cheek. He tried to say her name but his mouth wouldn’t work; the word echoed in his head then faded. Next time he opened his eyes, her face was only inches from his. She kissed him. He smiled inside but he wasn’t sure if his face responded.

The long dark coats of the Whips swished around him. In the
distance he heard the cry of Twister’s golden eagle. Nightshade tried to move to ease the discomfort of his squashed wings. Ruby helped him to roll onto his side. Nightshade had almost forgotten about Fenrir, but now he saw the sad old man huddled against the wall. He was staring out into the night sky.

His golden-brown eyes were the same color as Twister’s. Strange, to think this filthy and ragged man was Troy’s brother. Yet beneath the layers of dirt, his features were fine and he must once have been handsome.

The Whip who was watching Fenrir turned to answer a question. His attention left the old man for only a moment, but Fenrir’s empty gaze sharpened. Nightshade cried out a warning, but he was too late. Without making a sound, Fenrir leapt toward the precipice. An instant later, Twister’s anguished cry rent the air.

Nightshade closed his eyes.

* * *

Ruby hurried along the corridor toward Twister’s rooms. She needed to return his Magic Knot to him before she departed, so she’d reluctantly left Devin watching over Nightshade. She and Nightshade were getting a ride back to her home to pick up her car. From there she would drive him to Cornwall.

Fear hung like a shadow over her thoughts. Nightshade was getting sicker by the minute. She wouldn’t relax until she delivered him into the hands of the Cornish pisky healer he’d spoken of with such trust.

She knocked when she reached the door of Twister’s study. When her second knock went unanswered, she nearly returned to Nightshade. But Twister’s Magic Knot was too important to just leave on her bedside table to be found; she had to hand it back to him.

“Twister,” she said through the door, “it’s Ruby.” She could
no longer sense the Unseelie king through their bond. After Fenrir had thrown himself to his death, Twister had shut her out of his mind.

She finally pushed open the door without invitation, and dismay flashed through her at the state of the room. Unbearable sadness tightened Ruby’s throat at the senseless destruction of what must have constituted years of painstaking work and dedication. All the small metal perpetual-motion devices had been ripped off the walls and lay wrecked in a sad heap on the floor behind the sofa. The room was eerily quiet. Only the odd ding or hum broke the silence, the mechanisms giving last gasps of life.

Twister sat on the sofa facing the fire, elbows on his knees, forehead propped on the heels of his hands. Streaks of dried blood marked the recent damage Fenrir had inflicted. It occurred to her that when Fenrir shifted to human form his face had been dirty but unmarked. Twister must have loved his father very much to suffer years of attacks without ever retaliating.

Even this close to Twister, she couldn’t sense him and had no idea what he was thinking. It was unsettling how quickly she’d grown used to their bond, but now he’d shut her out. In a weird way she missed the strange mental connection, as if some deep part of her craved the unexpected intimacy, although she would never have sought out such a thing with the Unseelie king.

“Twister,” she said softly. Her boots crunched on tiny metal springs and cogs scattered like fragile bones over the carpet. She sat on the sofa at his side, but he didn’t raise his head or acknowledge her.

She unhooked the gold chain from her neck and pooled it in her hand around the three emerald-green stone rings of his Magic Knot. She extended her hand so he could see what she offered.

She’d expected him to be eager to reclaim his Magic Knot, but he made no move to take it. With a catching, agonized breath that sounded as though he was sucking his life back from the abyss, he roused and lifted his head. He stared into the fire rather than at her.

“I can’t bond with anyone else now that I’ve given you my stones. That’s it for me,” he said with a dejected note of finality.

Ruby’s hand tensed beneath the Magic Knot, and she reined in her desire to toss it onto his lap and escape. She didn’t want to add to his pain, but she refused to give him false hope that she’d stay with him. She didn’t have time to be gentle. Nightshade was waiting for her. If she were going to share the intimate connection of a bond with anyone, she would choose him.

Please don’t ask me to stay.

She had to distract Twister from his grief. She tapped a fingernail against one of the rodent skulls in his hair. “Why do you have these?”

“They’re creatures I ate when I was in owl form.”

Ruby rocked back in her seat. Just when she thought she’d heard everything . . . “Yummy.”

Twister cast her an oblique look through his hair, and the corner of his mouth twitched. He closed his hand around hers, trapping his Magic Knot between their palms. “I’ll miss you.”

The calluses from his wolf-paw pads scratched her hand, but she didn’t flinch away. “I can come back and visit.”

“Do that,” he said, but his tone said he thought she wouldn’t.