Lie Down with Dogs Read online

  What had Linen said there at the end?

  It was a mistake placing the crown jewels of my collection together.

  Crown jewels. The Morrigan’s daughter and the Morrigan’s daughter-in-law.

  “Don’t mourn him.” A small hand covered my knee and squeezed. “Rook isn’t dead, Thierry.”

  Once I smoothed my incredulous expression, I peeked out at her. “How can you be so sure?”

  “This.” A teardrop-shaped pendant hung from her fingers on a sleek, black chain. The latticework setting clutched a faceted ruby the size of my thumbnail, and the stone pulsed with faint crimson light. “I used to dream of the day I would escape Faerie, escape my mother. I hoped Rook would leave with me, but he thought she would be more willing to let me go if he stayed behind. He thought he could protect me better from Faerie.” She handed the necklace to me. “Before I left, he gave me this.”

  The metal was warm to the touch, and slight vibrations pulsed through the stone. “It’s a heartbeat.”

  “His heartbeat,” she confirmed. “He had one made for himself as well.”

  “This explains a lot.” I passed it back, suppressing a shiver. All this time, he had known she was alive. No wonder his belief hadn’t wavered. His mistake was in thinking the Morrigan had brought her home to lock her away in the fae realm instead of caging her in this one. “So you left Faerie, and then what? I’m guessing your mother found you.”

  And then the Morrigan had punished Branwen, because inflicting pain was what the Morrigan did best.

  “A year and a day after I fled, Faysal came for me. Mother was so furious.” Branwen wore her tears with pride. “After escaping Faerie, I married a fierce chieftain of the gray men, Dónal O’Leary, instead of the Unseelie prince she had chosen for me. She believed the prince, Iasan, was poised to win the hunt, and I cost her influence such a position would have given her, but my heart belonged to Dónal.”

  They had fallen for each other, defied the Morrigan, and their love had cursed them both.

  “Kerwin explained your situation to me.” Her finger traced the stone’s facets before she clasped its chain behind her neck. “I understand now why what I confided about the incubus distressed you.”

  That Kerwin. He was one super helpful guy.

  I chose my statement with care. “My relationship with Rook was—is—complicated.”

  Figuring Kerwin had already provided her with the official version of events, I decided Branwen should also hear my side of things. As calmly as possible, I outlined how I came to be Mrs. the Rook. I pushed through, adding details I hadn’t told anyone else—even Mai—because Branwen appeared so hungry for news of him. Even though my story wasn’t flattering, she was a rapt audience until the end.

  By the time I finished, Branwen’s cheeks were flush and her lips pressed into invisibility.

  Certainty flashed in her eyes. “The Morrigan forced him to do it.”

  The polite thing to do was keep my mouth shut, so I did. Mom would be proud.

  Branwen tapped my knee. “Rook wouldn’t have forced you if he had known about the incubus.”

  That was debatable. Rook was charming and handsome, but he was also manipulative and vain. And he had known about Shaw. He just wasn’t sure how firm the ex was before boyfriend.

  “What Rook did saved my life, but I won’t lie to you.” I sat up straighter. “I want out.”

  “Being used as furtherance for another’s ambition is a cruel game.” As her story illustrated, she had experienced my quandary firsthand. “I don’t hold your animosity toward Rook against you.”

  “I appreciate that.”

  A tart smile told me she read my sarcasm just fine. “After our discussion, I realize this is awkward, but I must try. Though this wouldn’t benefit you at all—may in fact hinder you—I have to ask.”

  I cracked an honest grin. “I doubted this was a social call.”

  “I don’t wish to offend you by offering—” she ducked her head, “—but I will pay you any price you name to bring my brother back to me. I don’t dare return to Faerie, Mother would kill me, but if the tethers are truly cut, Rook will be lost.”

  “They’re still discussing my fate upstairs.” Right now the issues being debated might save or damn humanity. Rook and I were both casualties in the making. “I doubt a rescue mission is on the table.”

  “I’m not asking you to divert your mission to search for him,” she rushed to add. “I only mean if the situation arises...if you see an opportunity to save him and if you think it possible, will you try?”

  I resisted the urge to fidget. “I try not to make promises I can’t keep.”

  “I understand.” She wrapped her arms around her middle. “I’m leaving today. It’s best if no one knows where I go, magistrates included.” She produced a small, pink conch shell charm and offered it to me. “Summon me once my brother’s fate has been determined. Please.”

  A spurt of magic expanded the shell to fill my palm, attuning itself to my magical signature, before it shrank again. “However it goes, I’ll be in touch.”

  “You have my gratitude.” Her gaze slid to the door then back to me. “I should get going.”

  Wary of who awaited me on the other side, knowing I had to face him sooner or later, I escorted her to the hall. “Safe travels.”

  A glimmer of hope lit her smile. “To you as well.”

  Finding the hall empty, I stood in the doorway and watched her leave. The bright-sharp scent of magic launched me into a sneezing fit. A thick rectangular box like the kind used for gifting sweaters sat on the chair where Branwen had sat. A simple card rested on top of it emblazoned with my name. I flipped it open.

  On the day I was freed, I waded into the sea and summoned my Dónal. He told me merry tales of his life and family. We laughed as though we had never been parted. Forever isn’t as long as the old songs would have us believe. My Dónal died in my arms, set free on the same day as me.

  My eyes prickled through to the end.

  We had an understanding, he and I. Despite what the old lore warned, his pelt was his. I never used it to bind him to me. His love was more precious for it was freely given. Now that silky fur is all that remains of the man I spent a lifetime loving and will mourn each day until forever ceases. I will treasure my memories, but I would be grateful if you accepted this endowment. It would only molder with me. I hope very much you wear it again. Through you, my Dónal will live on. Take care, sister.

  I lifted the thin paper lid of the box, pushed aside the tissue paper and stroked the soft gray pelt.

  “A gift from the gray men?” My father’s rich voice rang with power.

  “Huh.” Taking my time to pack it away, I flexed my fingers to stop their trembling. “The cat doesn’t have your tongue after all.”

  Frustrated magic washed from the man behind me to prickle my skin.

  “I admit my deceit.” His boots thumped closer. “I spelled the skin to prevent myself from speaking about my plans with you while wearing it. It was a necessary deception to earn your trust. I regret the lengths I was forced to go in the name of protecting you.”

  I made a noncommittal sound and smoothed the lid back onto the box.

  “Selkie pelts have their own magic.” He stopped on the edge of my periphery. “You’ll have to tame it before you wear it or the first time you get it wet with saltwater, the fur will dive to the bottom of the sea and drown you.”

  I turned and studied him. “Are you serious?”

  His nod was curt. “I learned the hard way.”

  I anchored my hands on my hips. “Yeah, well, that makes two of us.”

  He hooked his thumbs through his belt loops. “You’re angry.”

  “I’ve surpassed angry. I’m beyond pissed. This is me having a freaking nuclear meltdown.”

  He nodded. “I should not have tricked you.”

  I snorted. “You think?”

  He canted his head in a very catlike manner. “You were at
tached to the skin.”

  “I feel like someone ran over my cat.” I threw up my hands. “Diode was my friend, and now he’s gone.”

  “I wore the skin,” he said quietly. “I am still here.”

  “You’re not my friend,” I growled. “That you’re my father is a technicality.”

  A frown knitted his brow. “I cannot place family above duty.”

  “Above?” I spluttered. “Mom and I didn’t rank at all with you. Family is a duty too, you know.”

  “It is one I take seriously.” His lips thinned. “I did as your mother asked. I kept my distance. It was the right thing to do. It protected both of you.” He challenged me. “Hour-long visits once each decade... What would that have accomplished?”

  “It would have let me know you cared.”

  I wanted the words back as soon as they left my mouth. They made me sound like an eager little daddy’s girl standing in her father’s office on career day, trying on shoes so large she drowned in them.

  “You are my daughter.” Heat touched his voice. “I have watched over you your entire life.”

  Diode had once said the same thing. Was he speaking as my father then? I wish the cat was still around. Diode had been a safe link to him, a person I could ask questions and who could give me firsthand knowledge of Mac without the emotional acrobatics involved in approaching my mom.

  Pushing aside personal questions, I focused on more pressing ones. “Why are you here?”

  “Turmoil breeds corrosive magic. The threshold was thinning on my side and required maintenance sooner than anticipated. I decided to inspect your side as well and used a skin to prevent my enemies from tracking my movements.” He took his time in adding, “The skin let me interact with you without anger or expectation. You earned my trust, and I hope that I earned yours.”

  “The trust accumulated while masquerading as someone—something—else is nontransferable.” I spread my hands. “Sorry about that. Lying to someone tends to make them think you’re not trustworthy.”

  A slight grin tugged at his lips. “I can accept that.”

  How magnanimous of him, considering he had no choice.

  “Balamohan claimed you witnessed King Moran’s beheading.”

  The amusement slid off his face, replaced by a stone-cold resolve. “I did.”

  An unconscious kindling of light in the runes on his left hand warned me away from the topic.

  I jerked my chin toward the ceiling where the twelve remaining fae argued the virtues of my impending journey. “Well, Mr. Neutrality, what are your thoughts on the grand scheme being hatched upstairs?”

  “I don’t consider myself neutral so much as an equal advocate for all sides.”

  “Of course you would say that.” Mac in person was as Zen as a rock garden. For a man with his reputation, it surprised me. “Where do you stand on the issue? Do you think the Morrigan should be stopped?”

  His stance relaxed, calling my attention to the fact I hadn’t offered him a seat. But it wasn’t like I was sitting either. Still, points to him for standing with me and not commandeering his old chair.

  “Don’t you?” He aimed the pointed question back at me.

  “Do I think so? Yes. Do we have the right? I’m not sure. Technically, she didn’t break the law.” I considered what the Huntsman had told me. “The truce was signed in blood and broken by blood when King Moran was killed. Naming me as princess locked both houses into a holding pattern while they decided internally whether to rebel or to maintain the peace.”

  “Mutual consent is required in order for a new peace to hold.”

  I mirrored his pose. “The Morrigan seizing control took that option off the table.”

  “It seems that way,” he mused.

  My fingers drummed against my elbow. “You didn’t answer my question.”

  “Tensions must be released in Faerie. That is fact. If this realm is caught in the middle of such a war, it will be destroyed. That is also fact.” He sighed. “There is no fair solution to those problems.”

  As much as I hated to, I agreed with him. “The Huntsman said a war would almost be a relief.”

  “My father is a wise man.”

  I gave him an odd look. Seeing Mac standing there as a man, it was easy to forget he hadn’t always been one. Once he might have been the Huntsman’s favorite hound, but he had been a hound like all the others until fae magics wrapped him in human skin and infused him with power and intellect.

  “Then do you think the best thing for this realm is to cut the tethers and fortify the threshold?”

  “For this realm?” He nodded. “That is without a doubt the best solution.”

  As much as I wanted to take that answer and run, it was wrong. “But not for Faerie.”

  “The houses will divide,” he predicted. “Factions will rise, alliances will crumble. There will be bloodshed. Innumerable lives will be lost.” Regret threaded his voice. “You can’t change the nature of beasts. I might walk like a man and talk like one, but I also run with a pack and howl at the moon. I would go insane if I were confined to one skin, and my laws have confined too many for too long.”

  “You saved Faerie from the Thousand Years War.” He saved her from herself. “It might still be raging without you.”

  “I was the law for an age.” He cast me a meaningful glance. “But that age has passed.”

  Seeing where this was headed, I reiterated, “I don’t want to rule.”

  “Until that All Hallows’ Eve, what I wanted most was to return to my kennel with a full belly.”

  A knock on the door allowed me to swallow the smartass reply forming in my mind.

  Mac didn’t turn his head, but his nostrils flared. “I expected you sooner, Shaw.”

  “Someone accidentally charmed the lock on the magistrates’ chamber doors.” Shaw sidestepped my father and stationed himself against the wall on my left. “Is everything all right in here, Thierry?”

  Cold magic radiated from Mac as he faced Shaw. “Do you think I would hurt her?”

  Shaw rolled a shoulder. “Twenty-four hours ago, I thought you were a cat.”

  My glare transferred onto him. “That’s twenty-three hours longer than I’ve known he wasn’t.”

  “He would have told you,” Mac admitted. “I forbade it.”

  “She deserved to know.” White flickered in Shaw’s eyes. “You let her walk into an ambush.”

  “I agree.” The runes on Mac’s hand burned brighter. “That doesn’t change the necessity of it.”

  I angled myself between them. “Where did they break things off up there?”

  “They started bickering after you left.” He sounded unsurprised. “Nothing will be resolved for days, if not weeks, if the magistrates keep hemming and hawing. Besides, all eleven votes are required for any motion to carry. That means Mr. Sullivan must be present at the polling and his vote tallied.”

  Mac grimaced in response.

  With a nod, I put the same question to Shaw I had to Mac. “What do you think of their plan?”

  “The magistrates are looking for a noble excuse. King Moran’s death—and now this latest news of the Morrigan—gave it to them.” He raked his long fingers through his tousled hair. “Magistrates are powerful by this realm’s standards, but it’s no secret that affluent families in Faerie place their spare heirs, bastards and screw-ups into those roles to protect them and to keep up appearances. For most magistrates, their position is the most power and influence they can hope to wield in their lifetime. I doubt any of them want to share it with their siblings and rivals if the war spills over into this realm.”

  “You expect the vote to swing toward severing the tethers and reinforcing the threshold.”

  “Yes,” he said grimly. “I do.”

  Our gazes held until his eyes warmed to molten copper, and the edges of the room turned hazy.

  My father cleared his throat. Loudly. “I should return upstairs.”

  I didn’t disagree
with him.

  Mac paused on the landing, head lifting and nostrils flaring, scenting the air.

  I shot a panicked look at Shaw and mouthed Mom.

  The seconds Shaw hesitated made intervention unnecessary. Mac turned and climbed the stairs back up to the magistrates’ chambers, leaving Mom safe and none-the-wiser downstairs.

  After a nod from me, Shaw closed the door behind him and reactivated the privacy spell. A nifty trick since he shouldn’t have known the Word keyed to my office.

  “That was close,” I breathed out on a sigh.

  “You can’t protect them from each other.”

  I hated when he was right.

  “So—” I rolled my eyes toward the ceiling, “—what’s your take on the festivities?”

  He rubbed the base of his neck. “All the collective power in this realm is upstairs in that room.”

  My exhale puffed out my cheeks. “This is really happening.”

  “Your line of succession has been broken.” He sounded relieved.

  I wasn’t ready to relax yet. “I’m still not free.”

  “As long as you care, you’re never free.” He stepped closer. “They can always drag you back in.”

  “So, we sneak into Faerie, destroy the tethers, reinforce the threshold and go home.” I folded my arms. “We separate families, alienate goodwill toward the magistrates and leave a war zone behind.”

  He stopped an arm’s length away and braced his legs apart, making it plain if I wanted closer to him, I had to do the walking. “The only alternative is to wait and see, and if we wait, we won’t see the Morrigan coming until it’s too late. As cutthroat as the magistrates’ strategy is, it’s this realm’s best hope for survival. Hundreds of thousands or more fae, half-blood and human lives would be saved.”

  Lives like my mother’s.

  Mom had no chance against the types of fae who would inevitably jump realms in search of fresh hunting grounds. Old creatures like Linen, who had been kept in check by Mac’s laws, would be answerable only to the Morrigan. The prospect of an all-you-can-eat corpse buffet made me doubtful she would step in to prevent the slaughter of innocents.

  “This is the right thing to do.” I tested the words.