Wolf at the Door (Lorimar Pack) (Gemini Book 5) Page 11

  “Autumn isn’t my home,” he admitted, opening the door and giving me room to exit without risk of brushing against the bars, “but I will do my best to prove a competent guide.” He offered me his arm, and I accepted. “I have never met one of your kind.” His fathomless eyes appraised me. “Perhaps this outing will prove instructional for us both.”

  Though a feral wolf frothed in my gut, I kept my gaze lowered and my voice gentle. All I had to do was think of Momma to remember her syrupy lilt and the easy cadence of flirtation. My act would have done her proud. Except for the part where I didn’t mean a lick of it. I doubted she had either, at first. Eventually, she hadn’t meant much of anything at all. Not even to the men she bedded. Or maybe especially not them.

  Bile rose up my throat. This was not a path I wanted to walk, but I felt confident in the steps.

  Maybe I was more my mother’s daughter than I had ever realized.

  Chapter 9

  Tanet spluttered at the king’s gall in escorting me from the dungeon. Apparently, he didn’t acknowledge Rook as his sovereign either, a slight I was amazed Rook allowed. Most kings would have ordered a round of beheadings by now.

  “I’ve decided to borrow this one to finish what we started at Firn Hall,” the king said, heat licking through every syllable and leaving no doubt as to his intentions. “I will return her when my curiosity is…sated.”

  My lip wanted to curl at his audacity, but I kept my mouth shut and our arms linked, implying willing participation.

  “Make it quick.” Tanet snarled the last word. “Rilla will not be amused. How can she present this beast to the Huntsman if she smells of your leavings?”

  Faster than a blink, beyond even warg speed, the king extricated himself from my grip and smashed Tanet against the stone wall several feet away. Rook thumped Tanet’s skull a second time, leaving a bloody smear. The limits of the king’s temper appeared to have been reached. “I am King, and you are the orchestrators of a rebellion. While that sort of thing is commendable, as it does keep one on one’s toes, I am well within my rights to squash your petty attempts at overthrowing me.”

  “You won’t kill me,” Tanet ground out. “You need me.”

  “Your cousin is the brains, and she’s smart enough to hire out trolls as muscle should her own blood prove too thick for the task.” Rook leaned in, crimson edging his eyes. “My mother is Death. What do you think that makes me?”

  Paling under the intense scrutiny, Tanet wet his lips. “Apologies, my king.”

  “There,” Rook said, stepping away. “Was that so hard?” He strolled to me and offered his arm. “Shall we?”

  Warier than I had been, I accepted, and we traded the fortress for the forest. Caution lent my steps a hesitation I had lacked right up until I saw what had allowed this maligned king to hold his throne.

  “No one will hear us if we stick to the water’s edge.” Rook led us to a babbling brook peppered with moss-covered stones. Their eyes were flat discs with roly-poly pupils, and their mouths craggy lines. The rocks, upon noticing us, fell silent for about five seconds before ramping up their inane chatter about a lichen scandal two streams over. “See what I mean?”

  I almost smiled before my grim circumstances cured me of the urge, but he noticed the flash of amusement.

  “You don’t have to fear me.” He walked off a few paces. “I won’t harm you.”

  That time I had to swallow a laugh. Sure. Yeah. And I was the Queen of Sheba.

  “You and I have more in common than you might think. This war is not what I want, but my rule is contested, and I can’t stop what’s already begun. All I can do is direct it down the least-harmful path. Do you understand?”

  Head down, eyes averted, I nodded like an obedient subject.

  “This act doesn’t fool me.” His sigh urged my gaze higher. “Thierry sent you. My darling wife doesn’t suffer fools or the weak. You’re a dominant. I can tell. Only a dominant would see it as their duty to sacrifice themselves to save their compatriots—or are they your pack?”

  He held out for an answer, so I gave it to him. “One is a friend of the pack, the other is my mate.”

  “Ah. That explains it then. A submissive might have come to my hand as willingly, but I would have smelled their fear.” He strolled to me, hooked his finger and tapped it under my chin. “Fury and determination spices your scent. It’s a potent combination, but requires more backbone than all but the rarest submissives possess.” A soft laugh escaped him. “I suspect it’s why you hang your head, so I can’t read the murder in your lovely blue eyes.”

  No one had ever called me on my acting skills, but then again, men who got what they wanted didn’t often look a gift horse—or wolf—in the mouth. “Why did you invite me here?”

  “I could be forgiven for seducing you. The others…” His lips twitched. “Despite being raised in Faerie, the human in me has decided preferences for the fairer sex it seems.”

  “Is that what this is?” My fists balled at my sides. “A seduction?”

  “You’re not writhing in ecstasy, so no. This is a negotiation.”

  I couldn’t suppress the derisive snort that escaped me. It seemed that Rook had a king-sized ego to match his title. “What do I have to offer you?”

  “Not your body, if that’s what concerns you.”

  “I overheard you and Bháin talking…”

  “I suspected the fae was yours. He can’t keep his eyes off you. He reacted quite badly to my supposed intentions.” A wicked gleam lit his eyes. “Males are so easy to lead around by the heartstrings. So possessive. The mere suggestion I might have designs on you was enough to decide him.”

  Thinking back, I tried remembering the order of things. Had his comment about taking me for a lover come before Isaac bugged the hall? I thought so. Meaning we had heard a scripted conversation prior to Bháin’s helpful removal of the bug Isaac had planted in the mortar.

  I rubbed my arms against the faint chill in the air, more from the implication than the temperature. “You wanted us to run?”

  “There were things you needed to see and learn that you wouldn’t have accepted at face value had I simply told you of them.”

  Considering Thierry’s many and varied warnings, I couldn’t refute his claim. She had all but told us to go left if he said right and down if he said up. We wouldn’t have believed him. Who expects a king to be a rebel at heart?

  I cast my thoughts back on all the things Rook had said and done in the company of his coconspirators. He had announced the upcoming war while making it clear their present course of action was not what he wanted for Faerie. After admitting his hopes for peace had been shattered by the rift’s appearance, he acknowledged he had been forced to play the game in order to keep control of the board. No one, not even Rilla, who was quick to contradict him, had disputed those facts. In fact, she had sneered at his weakness.

  Had Rook orchestrated the whole thing as a means of proving his innocence? Maybe innocence was too strong a word. Compliance under duress, maybe? He might have used Rilla to pull a few of the strings, I decided, but he had been the puppet master lurking in the shadows.

  Thierry had been right to warn us about him.

  Sticking my neck out, I dug for his motives. “Is this why you encouraged Tiberius’s kidnapping?”

  “I regret the prince’s involvement, but his aunt won’t harm him. He’s too valuable.”

  “Why not bring these concerns straight to Thierry?” Rook must still be fond of her if he kept referring to her as his wife. “You had to know we would uncover some of this when you agreed to allow our field trip.”

  The temptation to smack my forehead with my open palm was strong. He had known. That must have been the whole point.

  “I made contact once the rift opened, before most knew of its existence, to offer her aid. I can’t risk another visit, I’m being watched too closely, and I don’t trust my messengers.” He knelt at the water’s edge and ran his hand through t
he liquid. “Thierry trusts you. Your word will carry weight with her. As to the rest… Your pack is the front line of the coming war. You needed to see this place for yourself to understand the enemy you face in order to prepare your people.”

  “You’ll have to forgive me if I don’t believe this was an altruistic gesture. You care for Thierry, or you did once, enough that you want her forewarned. Enough to cooperate with her though it runs counterclockwise to your own ends. But you are a king, and rulers are nothing if not pragmatic. What is it you want in exchange for this gift of information?”

  Flicking droplets from his fingertips, Rook stood and approached me. His presence forced me back until my spine hit a tree, and he leaned close in an approximation of a lover’s embrace. He bent his head and kept his voice so low I wouldn’t have understood him without my heightened supernatural senses.

  “I have an army already in position on your world,” he breathed against my ear. “My sister, Branwen, is their general, and they are loyal to her unto death.”

  Heart pounding as he hammered nails into the coffin of my world, I dragged in a ragged breath.

  “They are half-bloods rescued from servitude in Faerie and, with Thierry’s assistance, funneled down the tether where, it is my hope, they will begin new lives. The lethality of their talents and their…brokenness…required Branwen to enforce strict regulations upon them. She has trained up an army in the hopes the routine and camaraderie will give them comfort and purpose. The drills she has designed are meant to help them survive the new world should the old one come knocking.”

  An accidental army? One Thierry, and therefore the conclave, was aware of all along? Yeah. Right. Suddenly, this trip smacked of more than a simple retrieval. It tasted of desperation to pinpoint a missing legion that might tip the scales in our favor. All it required was someone trustworthy to gain access to the king. And a soon-to-be-convicted kidnapper and the two men foolish enough to aid in her prison break were a small price to pay if things went right…or if they went horribly wrong.

  The moisture evaporated from my tongue, and all I tasted was ashes.

  “I was forced to sever communication with my sister in order to protect her location from Rilla and the others,” Rook continued. “Branwen and I decided that, should I ever miss our agreed-upon window of communication, she would gather her troops and go into hiding.”

  “Why rally the half-bloods?” I attempted to put distance between us, but he pinned me still. “Why send them to Earth?”

  “Faerie is no place for half a fae, and Earth is no place for half a mortal” was all he said.

  “What is it you expect me to do?” I wanted our bargain outlined in full detail. “Find your sister? Branwen?”

  “Thierry must be warned first, but yes. It is in your realm’s best interest that you locate Branwen.” He untucked a ruby pendant on a thick chain from inside his tunic then pulled it over his head and looped it over mine. “Show her this, and she will understand. Her people may be enough to turn the tide. Or they may not. Either way, we won’t know until it’s too late.”

  Reflex had me closing my hand over the warm chain. Glancing down, I lifted it for inspection, but the pendant had other ideas. The links compressed, tightening around my throat until I gasped for air. “Rook?”

  “Consider it an insurance policy.” He smoothed his thumb over the stone, and the chain relaxed. “The magic only responds to me. It won’t come off until I remove it, so let’s hope you and I meet again under kinder circumstances.”

  The wolf rose in me and peered at him, challenge in her gaze, but even she understood the necessity of the bargain we had struck. The king glossing over his necklace’s affinity for strangling its wearers sucked, but he was fae. Had I honestly expected candor from him? What choice did I have if I wanted his aid? None. And he knew it, or he wouldn’t look so damn smug right about now.

  After gingerly tucking the necklace under my shirt, I turned my thoughts to more pressing matters. “How do you expect us to escape?”

  “Are you sure you won’t consider leaving them—?”

  “No.”

  “Very well. Leave your escape up to me.” Rook shoved away from the tree. “Can you find your way back here?”

  I nodded that my nose could show me the way.

  “You’ll need supplies for the journey home. I’ll see that your packs and fresh foods are left here.”

  The fresh food we would do well to avoid, but I was grateful to hear our packs would be returned. Isaac must feel naked without his gadgets. Though the food wasn’t going to win any awards, it had kept us alive so far. Plus, all our camping gear and clothes were stuffed in there.

  “Just like that?” I asked, not daring to believe escape was so simple.

  “I can arrange for your escape, and I can redistribute your supplies, but I can’t help you find your way home.” He rubbed a thumb across his bottom lip. “That is for you three to figure out on your own.”

  “Are you serious?” I strode over to him. “We can’t use the tether?”

  “Who would be there to operate it for you? I am here.” His voice turned sly. “There is another means of exiting Faerie.”

  “Yes, through a giant hole torn in the fabric between worlds. This might not be a big deal for you, considering you have wings and all, but wolves can’t fly. Contrary to popular belief, neither can witches. Gemini, well, okay, you’ve got me there. They can do anything their donor blood allows. But Enzo and I would pancake if we leapt through the rift.”

  “I’m a Faerie king, not a fairy godmother.”

  Equal parts grateful for his help and irritated we needed it, I conceded the point. “Fair enough.”

  “We better hurry and return you before Rilla notices you’re gone. I can handle her, but things would go much easier if she never learned I had been handling you.”

  “Rilla mentioned gifting me to the Huntsman,” I murmured. “Would he help?”

  “I’m sure he would. He’s fond of Thierry and enjoys thwarting those who oppose his son and granddaughter, but he’s not here.”

  “What do you mean?” A cold stone dropped into the pit of my stomach. “I know time passes differently in Faerie, but it can’t be All Hallows’ Eve. That would mean we’ve been here for months.”

  “No. Time is fluid, but it’s not that liquid.” A smug grin creased his cheeks. “Did you really think one pack of wolves could hold back the tides of Faerie? It’s not that you aren’t skilled. You’ve proven yourselves quite capable. But there are many fae more powerful than your wolves, and I don’t have the resources to patrol the rift. Not with a war brewing and not when the chances of any humans using it to come here are nil.”

  “He can’t be poaching from us.” It was a matter of fact. “We would have scented him or his hounds on our lands.”

  “As the Grandfather of Hounds, I’m certain he’s well aware of that. I didn’t ask for the particulars, but I’m guessing he and his pack are securing the towns around yours to capture stragglers. I impressed upon him the need for discretion. My cover would be blown if Rilla or the others discovered I had dispatched aid, particularly in the form of the Huntsman. His absence, and that of his hounds, means no new king can be named.”

  “Meaning if she attempts to kill you, you’ve got yet another contingency plan.” I puzzled out his logic. “No one can claim the throne without a Coronation Hunt, and no hunt can take place without the Huntsman or his hounds. By sending him to Earth, you not only helped us, but you helped yourself.”

  The king’s smile was blinding, and I suspected I might be seeing what had caught Thierry’s eye about him.

  “Rilla would have orchestrated a public assassination for me, burned me to ash and then salted the ground to prevent my rising, and then organized a hunt. Tiberius has years of training for his ascension. The Unseelie prince is younger and inexperienced. He’s a nasty piece of work. I admire his style, but he’s not ready. If Rilla gets her hunt now, she’ll get her Seeli
e king.”

  “And I thought warg hierarchy was complicated.” I massaged a tense knot forming at the base of my neck. “This is why I’m happy being a beta.”

  “What must that contentment be like,” he wondered aloud. “No. Don’t explain.” He smiled briefly. “I would rather cultivate my ignorance than mourn the loss of that which I am destined never to experience.”

  Abiding by his wishes, I shifted our conversation to another matter. “What about your mother?” I tapped my wrist. “The bracelet Isaac placed on her is negating her magic.”

  “I am aware.” His grin flashed, beautiful in its ferocity. “I plan to have it replaced with a bespelled model prior to her release. I might accept that I require her assistance, but I will not unleash her without a collar, I assure you.”

  Once again, we linked arms, and he escorted me to the fortress. On the way, I rumpled my hair and skewed my clothing, pinched my lips to plump them and my cheeks to redden them. The effort proved worthwhile if Tanet’s disgust was any indication. Clearly, he didn’t believe in fornicating with the earthen set. As a woman, and the person most likely to be on the receiving end of his attention, I was relieved he valued himself so highly. Wanting no part of the king’s philandering, Tanet allowed Rook to deposit me into the dungeon.

  Ignoring the snub, the king guided me down the final stretch of hall where Enzo and Isaac waited for me. Rook hadn’t shut the door to my cell, so I walked right in. He twisted his key in the lock then cast me a meaningful glance. “Be prepared.”

  Nerves jangling, I sat on the cot. “We will be.”

  Neither man spoke until the outer door clanged shut, but the instant the latch caught, they wheeled on me.

  Isaac drank in the sight of me like he might not trust himself to speak.

  Enzo was less circumspect. “Are you all right?”

  “Ask me that tomorrow,” I told him. “If we live that long.”

  With a nod, he retreated to give Isaac and me the illusion of privacy.

  Shifting as close to the bars as possible, I promised Isaac softly, “I’m okay. He didn’t touch me.”