Heir of the Dog Page 16

  Unable to stomach holding on any longer, I loosened my grip and let the hound’s corpse fall to the floor. Its thick pelt draped over my feet. I kicked it aside, made it a half-dozen steps toward the office, before I turned.

  Skins were power. I knew that now. The hound—the prince—was dead. He had no more use for his fur. His pelt might as well be put to good use. I darted back, snatched up the skin and hesitated.

  Either I hadn’t noticed or hadn’t had the juice before to sense the subtle magic coating each doorknob. Now their static hums drifted inside my range of hearing.

  I reached for the closest one as the door behind me exploded in iron hardware and splinters. No fate beyond its threshold could be worse than what waited for me here. I opened the door and ran inside. No. Outside. I recognized the insect chorus and the hazy quality of the air. I was back in Spring.

  I spun around in the clearing. No hint of the den or trace of magic lingered. The best I could hope for was that the hounds lacked the power to operate the door or that it sealed after I tumbled through.

  This explained a whole hell of a lot. I always wondered how one person could play peacekeeper across an entire realm. Impossible. Like Santa Claus. One person couldn’t service the needs of an entire world. Well, I stood corrected. The hall leading to Macsen’s office was riddled with doors. Who knew where all of them led? One to every season was a given, but one to each house? What an amazing secret he kept.

  Okay. So. New plan. Rook was missing. Diode had vanished. One prince was dead.

  One prince was dead.

  There was a clear winner. Would that end the hunt? Or must the victor kill the tribute? I had no one to ask, no way to know, but I was betting my life and I wagered on yes.

  I stood there with a skin in my fist and made a decision. Maybe it was the high thrumming through my veins or the fresh blood on my hands, but I wasn’t running again. I was done with this game. My mom didn’t deserve this. Neither did I. The one person who probably did was noticeably absent.

  Instead of making use of my head start, I found a spot where a tree rooted beside a boulder, and I plopped down with my back resting on the moss-encrusted trunk, protected on two sides with a clear view ahead, and waited for the remaining hounds to find me. When they did, I would be ready.

  My stomach grumbled about being empty. It seemed like ages since I fed Rook berries. Rook, who had abandoned me to face the hunt alone. That I could almost understand. Forgive? No. But he kept telling me not to trust him. He told me to believe the worst of him. Had I? Nope. I just carved out my heart and offered it up to him on a platter. I believed he was my friend. I thought he felt...something.

  Clearly, I had sniffed one too many toadstools.

  Diode’s disappearance worried me more. I didn’t know him, didn’t know for sure he was telling the truth any more then Rook was, but he struck me as sincere, and he had led me to my father’s den. I hoped he was safe wherever he was. I wished we could have talked more. I had so many questions.

  “I wish Diode was here now,” I said on an exhale.

  Chills coasted over my nape. Instinct guided my eyes toward the lush green jungle-like interior where two eyes blinked out at me. Watchers.

  Howls carried to my ears. It looked like the gang was all here. It might have been my imagination, but I read condemnation in the glittering red eye. I had cost the Unseelie their prince. The best-case scenario was yet another century-long Seelie reign.

  Not my problem. Balancing justice in Faerie? That was Macsen’s shtick, and he shouldn’t have left me to wield it. It turned out I was afraid. Brief as my lifespan might be, I wanted every second, every minute, every hour of every day. If the Seelie hound bested me, then so be it. But he had a fight on his paws.

  I stood and braced my feet apart. I hadn’t bothered with my glove after leaving the den. I flexed my fingers and shook magic into their tips, frowning when the runes cast emerald light. The darker, colder glow worried me, but not enough I wouldn’t use whatever the Unseelie prince’s essence had left me for this final battle.

  The thunder of eleven hounds’ paws—ten more than I could take down at once—filled me with dread. I clutched the Unseelie prince’s hide in my right hand so they could see I meant business.

  The rules had always been the same for them.

  This time they were in for a surprise.

  The beasts galloped into the clearing then tapered their gait while studying me. Confusion knit their brows. They snuffled the air and looked to their leader, the tallest of them, the remaining prince.

  That hound stepped forward, bowed his head and met my gaze. His was clear and untroubled. It wasn’t confidence that he would win, though he seemed unafraid of losing, it was a calm acceptance. He swished his tail, and the beasts to either of his sides charged.

  Okay, so not acceptance. He was going to hurl the others at me until I tired enough he could defeat me or until I blazed through them and he had to either face me or brand himself as a coward.

  Drawing power into my left hand, I wished I had more than a pelt in the right. Intimidation hadn’t worked. All it had done was show the Seelie prince I wasn’t going down easy and allowed him time to cobble together a plan to wear me down. Not my smartest strategy yet, but the skin might come in handy.

  If the rabbit skin retained memories of its former occupant, this skin might too. With the imprint fresh, it might shorten the learning curve from two to four legs.

  Seconds before impact, the hounds yelped in panic, sliding when they tried to backpedal.

  I darted a quick glance around the clearing while my nape prickled. “What the...?”

  Their gazes fixated on a point behind me. I slowly turned my head and spotted a retina-singeing blur of neon fur and saber teeth land in a menacing crouch on the cold gray slab of stone at my back. A fast grin stretched my cheeks. It felt so damn good to have someone in my corner, to not be alone.

  I crept closer to Diode, keeping my eyes on the hounds as they retreated back to their prince. “Come to watch the show?”

  “I am not much for spectator sports,” Diode purred. “Might I be of assistance?”

  My heart tumbled. “Is that—allowed?”

  “Asks the girl clutching the pelt of a prince?” His laughter rumbled. “All bets are off.”

  “Don’t stick out your neck on my account.” I lifted my chin. “I can handle this.”

  “I have broken so many rules.” His muzzle bumped my shoulder. “What is one more?”

  I leaned against him. “I’m glad you’re here.”

  “I wish your father could have been here.” His sandpaper tongue rasped over my cheek.

  “Would it have worked?” I had to ask. “Could he have swapped places with me?”

  “No.” Diode huffed. “Once you accepted the terms, you were bound by them.”

  “I figured.” I wet my lips. “Do you know...? I mean, I came back and you were both gone.”

  “I have not seen Rook since we parted ways outside the den.” He flicked his ears. “If I had not known you were Macsen’s daughter, I would have when his doors opened for you. They answer to no one else. When the hounds breached the den, I led Rook out another exit near Winter. I trusted you would find your own way out. I see my faith was not misplaced. Macsen would be proud.”

  I shrugged off his compliment, even as it warmed me. “How did you find me?”

  “I heard your call.” He sniffed. “Did I not say I would always come when summoned?”

  “Not a sentiment I would expect to hear from a cat,” I teased.

  “Hmph.” He swished his tail. “Perhaps your father rubbed off on me after all.”

  The shock of seeing Diode must have faded. The prince snarled at the defectors, snapping at the nearest dog and biting off his ear. The others whined softly and backed away from him, toward us. Once out of range of the prince’s jaws, their nails dug into the shredded ground. Their mouths fell open on deep barks the others were quick to encour
age.

  “I will handle the whelps.” Diode revved up his purring. “You take down the prince.”

  Claws raked across stone when the cat leapt over my head and hit the grass running. He collided with the first hound, knocking it backward with a yelp while ripping out the other’s throat. He turned to his second kill, and I stepped away from the safety of the boulder, raised my left hand and waved.

  “Let’s end this,” I called to the prince.

  His paw stomped, and another set of hounds charged.

  Diode intercepted, gutting them with a swipe of his claws.

  “We can do this all day.” I gestured toward the cat. “He hasn’t broken a sweat.”

  Shrinking against the prince, the remaining hounds whined. He snapped at them and shoved them out of his way with his shoulders. A steady grumble poured out his throat as he left the safety of the pack. He cut his eyes toward Diode, the question in them clear.

  “He won’t fight this battle for me.” I lifted the Unseelie prince’s pelt. “He doesn’t have to.”

  The Seelie prince’s eyes lit on that swath of fur then flicked to me. I guess he wasn’t impressed. Instead of meeting me halfway, he threw back his head and howled until the hounds behind him stopped trembling and meekly came to his sides.

  Back to square one. They far outnumbered us. Even Diode couldn’t tackle all of them at once, and I couldn’t focus on the prince while the others gnawed on me.

  This time four hounds loped forward, hesitant but determined.

  “Shift,” a bold voice commanded. “The others won’t kill one of their own.”

  Rook.

  He was here.

  Gripping the skin tighter, I pulled it over my head and looked at the world through a dog’s eyes.

  Change came faster this time, fueled by fear and adrenaline. As magic shrank me to fit the container I had chosen, I managed two wobbling steps. Before the first hounds reached me, they pulled up short. Two ventured hesitant wags of their tails. They chuffed, sounds the skin knew how to mimic, then snuffled me from nose to ass.

  Mostly my ass. Seriously. Cold wet nose pressed to my... Never mind. Moving on.

  Swishing my tail, I hoped to send a hi guys message while I swatted them away from my rear.

  When the press of bodies cleared, I noticed the prince stood where I saw him last.

  Coward. I let anger rumble up the back of my throat.

  The dogs beside me stiffened and jerked their heads toward him. They glanced between us, and for a heartbeat I thought they might turn on me. Instead, they slicked their ears back and trotted out in front. Thank you, Rook. Between the pelt and the Unseelie prince’s essence still tingling under my skin, I must have passed the test. Packs followed the dominant hunter, and it looked like I was it.

  The princes may have oozed entitlement, but I was Black Dog’s daughter. In a way, I was pack. He had been plucked from the Huntsman’s favorites. Technically, some of these dogs might be aunts or uncles of mine. I crushed that thought before it made me sentimental. I couldn’t afford a soft spot. Not while the bloodthirsty beasts at my sides waited for me to call the shots. To end yet another life.

  Relying on the skin’s memory to form the right vocals, I ordered the pack to circle wide and pin the prince in case he bolted. I was done playing nice. This ended now. No do-overs or take-backs. All or nothing.

  “Let the skin do the work,” Rook called.

  I flexed my paws, felt my nails rake the damp earth. I filled my lungs and listened to my heart as it pumped hard and fast. This skin fit me better than the other. This one craved the wash of blood and the splinter of bone between my teeth, and I gave myself over to those hungers. I let wildness infuse my blood, allowed one prince’s essence, his hatred for the opposing house, to saturate my senses and fuel the bloodcurdling howl ripping out of my throat. I tore up the ground launching myself forward.

  The other hounds vanished into the underbrush, little more than shadows with night falling fast. My blood sang with the fading light. No wonder Unseelie preferred the dark if this was her potent call.

  The Seelie prince darted glances around the clearing. His soft whines attempted to lure others to his cause, but they were loyal to me. They were mine. I called encouragement and whipped them into a frenzy. One or two rushed in to snap at the prince’s tail. He spun and gnashed his teeth at them.

  Chicken. Too afraid to face me. Too proud to run. He stood his ground and braced for attack.

  Twisting away from his teeth, I slammed my shoulder against his side, bit down where his throat had been and tasted air. He swung his skull, crashing into mine, and I saw stars. I stumbled away and shook my head—then really, really wished I hadn’t done that. While I was blinking away vertigo, he nipped my side. It hurt. I danced out of range and started doubting Rook’s advice.

  I had the power to end the Seelie, to finish this, but I couldn’t tap into that wellspring of princely energy now. Even if I could, my magic required rune-to-skin contact. Thanks to the thick fur coating me, that was impossible. But if I risked shifting back now, he could snap my slender human neck or rip open my delicate stomach.

  One of the hounds chomped on the prince’s tail and dragged him howling back a few paces before returning to his post. I might have felt bad for the prince if he hadn’t used the same tactics on me.

  Before he regained his focus, I dug my nails in deep and sprang for his throat. My teeth sank in his fur and found purchase in his skin. I bit down harder, flinging my head from side to side until the tang of iron filled my mouth. The prince struggled and snapped at me. He clawed and kicked me, but he couldn’t break my hold. While my stomach roiled, I gnawed on him until the predator in me was satisfied I had done my job.

  When he ceased struggling, I loosened my jaw and let him slump to the ground in a ragged heap of bloody fur. His eyes fogged over as I stood there, licking my muzzle.

  The eyes in the forest converged on me. When the red-eyed one spoke, his voice came from no mouth I could see, and I shuddered.

  No wonder they kept to the shadows.

  “You have killed the Unseelie prince.” He glanced to the Watcher on his right. That one nodded. “You have also slayed the Seelie prince.” Their voices layered together. “This is not the outcome we foresaw. You must accompany us to Summer, where the High Court will review our accountings.”

  I lowered my head and sent magic coasting through my limbs. The skin fell away and left me with blood turning my cheeks sticky. I knelt there on the ground until I could breathe without gagging, then snagged the pelt and shoved to my feet. I should have left the skin there. I could have tossed it onto the other prince and been done with both of them, but a niggling doubt cautioned me to keep hold of it, at least until I spoke with the High Court.

  My legs were rubber. I was grateful when Diode prowled over to me in a show of support. Rook put an arm around my waist and pressed a brief kiss to my temple. The knuckles of his other hand brushed over the pelt.

  I flinched at his gentle touch. “I’m sorry about your brother.”

  I had no choice, but Rook knew that. He wasn’t blaming me, which somehow made it worse.

  “I am too,” he managed, voice thick with emotion. “If you like, I can put this somewhere safe, until you need it.”

  “All right.” I handed it to him, feeling like a pallbearer passing over her charge.

  Together the three of us faced the Watchers. Something told me we had a long night ahead of us.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Crossing into Summer was like stepping onto the back porch of my mother’s house in August. The sky was clear, the night clean. A fat moon hung overhead, and stars glittered as far as I could see. Frog song carried, accompanied by a bawdy cricket chorus and the bass hooting of something I felt safe assuming wasn’t an owl. Still, more than anywhere else in Faerie, this place reminded me of home.

  “How much farther is it?” I wasn’t in any hurry to face down the consuls, I was just c
urious.

  Distances seemed oddly fluid here. Almost as if by wanting to be somewhere, I got there faster. Considering how this sweat-sticky procession dragged, I began believing the opposite must also be true.

  Diode butted his head against my thigh. “Not much longer now.”

  I glanced at Rook, whose arm still hung around my waist and whose fingers rubbed my hip. His eyes were distant, the rest of his features arranged in such a way as to discourage conversation.

  Since talking wasn’t an option, I settled for scratching Diode behind his ears. His rumbling purr thanked me. The sound was soothing. Odd, since I wasn’t a cat person.

  While I mulled over the day’s events, our group strolled from a perfect summer night into a humid morning that promised midday would be a scorcher. The kind of day where, if there had been a sidewalk, you could have fried eggs on it then crisped yourself two strips of bacon.

  “We have arrived,” the Watchers announced together.

  I examined our surroundings. “Where are the Halls of Summer?”

  They pointed toward a dark splotch in the landscape.

  “What is that?” I squinted at it.

  “The way in,” Rook answered.

  After remaining quiet for so long, his voice startled me.

  “The Halls of Summer are in a swimming hole.” I shook my head. “Of course they are.”

  As our party approached the entrance, I could see it was, in fact, a natural pond. It reminded me of a case Shaw and I had worked together.

  A farmer went to water his cows one day and found them standing in the middle of his field around a pond, measuring twelve feet in diameter, that hadn’t been there the night before. Sinkholes are common in Texas. Underground springs are too, so the farmer didn’t think much of it.

  Word spread and local teens started sneaking onto his property to swim at Blue Hole, so named because the water was Caribbean blue and clear as the purest spring water. So clear you could have seen the bottom if there had been one, but the hole seemed to go on forever. Which became the topic of debate between the farmer, the geologists interested in studying the phenomenon, and the teens who figured the fastest way to figure out what was down there was to dive for it. And dive they did.