Wolf at the Door (Lorimar Pack) (Gemini Book 5) Page 3

  I raised my eyebrows at that.

  “There are scholars who believe witches are descendants of the original fae explorers who discovered this world. The magic had to come from somewhere, right? Ours bonded with this world, and theirs with theirs. Both can function in either place, but each is stronger where it originated.” My eye must have twitched, because he simplified it. “Our magic is a watered-down version of theirs. Combine that with our mortality, and most fae can’t be bothered to note our existence. Let alone expend energy teaching such short-lived beings any magic of worth.”

  “Does that mean you’re hoping to get a patron out of this?” Considering he was already indentured to one master, his brother, he had better hope a second one didn’t want another dozen years of his life in exchange for his tutelage. Or by the time Enzo worked off his debt, he would be too old to enjoy his power.

  “No.” He rubbed his hands together. “I want access to the native flora.”

  “You want to gather samples?” I assumed. “Aren’t there laws against that?”

  “Thierry has granted me immunity in exchange for my cooperation. This is a chance for me to collect stock for my own supply of rare herbs.” His lips quirked. “Miguel and I have arrangements with a few Unseelie bazaars, but you have no idea how expensive the good stuff is on the black market.”

  I couldn’t argue with him there. Who knew illegal herb trade was a thing?

  “You guys are my team?” I heard the doubt in my voice and winced. “Not that I don’t respect you both, but you’re both top drawer. There are powerful people here who wouldn’t thank me if you don’t come home.”

  “Accept that I’m your friend,” Enzo said, “and friends don’t let friends go to Faerie alone.”

  “She won’t be alone.” Isaac folded his arms over his chest. “I’ll be there.”

  Meemaw eyed the strutting peacocks with amusement before coughing into her fist.

  “Meemaw, are you feeling all right?” Enzo, who was a passing medic, ignored Isaac in favor of my grandmother. He squatted in front of her chair and gathered her hands in his lap. “Have you been taking the allergy medicine Miguel prescribed?”

  While he conducted a quick exam and Isaac stewed, Thierry caught my eye and mouthed, I see where you get it from.

  Unlike Meemaw, I didn’t have both guys eating out of the palm of my hand. Mostly they were too busy snapping their teeth at one another to pay attention to me. Days spent in Faerie under these conditions would be miserable. With that thought in mind, I began to understand my punishment was twofold. I had to locate and return the prince, and I had to not murder the other two people in my party.

  Thierry clapped her hands to bring attention back to the matter at hand. “Okay, guys, we don’t have much time. Let’s focus.”

  Meemaw pouted. Until that moment I’d had no idea she was capable of such a thing. Isaac took point behind my chair, his fingers almost brushing my shoulder. Enzo did the same behind Meemaw, but he kept his hands to himself and his attention on Thierry.

  “Enzo, are you ready?” She slid into business mode. “You’ve got all the supplies you need?”

  He tapped the side of his head. “It’s all up here.”

  “A light packer. I like that.” She eyed Isaac next. “How about you?”

  “My gear is in my pack in the hall.” He jerked his head in that direction. Bet it weighed a ton too, filled with compact tool kits and various electronic thingamabobs that might not even work in Faerie. “The rest…” he lifted his right hand to indicate the spur nestled beneath his middle finger’s nail, the one he used to draw blood from his donors, “…the locals will provide.”

  “I took the liberty of packing for you, Dell.” Thierry hauled a heavy-duty pack from underneath her desk and swung it up, letting it hit with a dull thump. “Civilian clothes, some food and water, basic survival gear and a few girly concerns.”

  She gestured me forward, and I strapped in, feeling ridiculous considering I was geared up for a trek into a foreign land while wearing my prison uniform and no shoes. I wiggled my toes in consideration. The pads on the bottoms of my feet were calloused. I could make do until I could steal or barter for a pair on the other side.

  “I almost forgot.” She leaned over and tugged off her own boots. “These are broken in, waterproofed, and they’ll fit. I figured comfort mattered over style.”

  “Oh nice.” I caught the pair of clean socks she pulled from a drawer and tossed at me. “My feet thank you. Unless that indebts them to you, in which case they appreciate you instead.” Breaking in new boots while on the run would not have been fun. “Now that we’re all kitted out, I have to ask. How is this going down?”

  “You’ll see. All you have to do is follow me and run when I give the signal. The rest will be gravy.” She grinned. “Trust me.”

  Trust and Thierry did not go hand in hand for me, but I resisted the temptation to insult my ticket out of here. “Okay.”

  Thierry nodded at Meemaw. “It’s go time.”

  On cue, my grandmother clutched her chest and began moaning. I dashed to her side, thumping her walking stick on Thierry’s desk then easing her onto the floor before her dizzy spell toppled her out of the chair. Blood dappled the floral pattern of her skirt. I checked her for wounds but found the cut responsible on my finger. I must have sliced it on the bark crusting her walking stick.

  Enzo shifted into medic mode while Isaac removed a small item resembling a remote from his pocket. He pressed a series of buttons then rushed to the door, yanking it open as he called for help. Littlejohn met him at the threshold and brought his radio to his mouth only to discover it was dead.

  The officer looked to Thierry. “Ma’am?”

  “Go alert the front desk.” She pushed magic into her runes until they glittered. “I can handle Dell alone.”

  Clearly unhappy with his orders, Littlejohn hotfooted it down the hall and around the corner. When the sound of his footfalls quieted, Meemaw’s pained gasping did too. She grinned up at me, mischief sparkling in her eyes, and winked.

  First pouting and now winking? My, what a big repertoire you have, Grandma.

  “You’re not Meemaw.” I recoiled from the old woman as she wheezed out a laugh. “Who—what—are you?”

  “Izzy, you owe me fifty bucks.” The person who was not my grandmother cackled then shifted his attention back to me. “He said you’d see through the act. I was counting on sentimentality to do my work for me, and I was right.”

  Only one person called Isaac Izzy and lived to talk about it. His twin brother, Theo.

  Except, as far as I knew, Gemini took on aspects, as in one or two facets of a donor’s gift, not cloned them head to toe. Then again, I had seen Isaac go full-on monolith. I had assumed he was borrowing the rock-hard skin as a facet, but was it a deeper transformation? What was normal for fae able to mimic with only a drop of blood as a template? I was realizing I had no good answers for either question, and there was only one person who could illuminate me. The man himself.

  Later. I would deal with this, and Isaac, later. First things first. I sprang to my feet and whirled on Thierry. “Where is Meemaw?”

  “Snug as a bug in a hotel in town.” She wisely kept the desk between her and me. “We needed a fresh blood sample for Theo to impersonate her, and clothes that held her scent, but I doubted you’d want her involved in what goes down today. I ordered her to remain in the hotel restaurant until I call with the all clear.”

  Mollified, I relaxed my fists and soothed the wolf pacing the perimeter of my thoughts. “You were right. I don’t want her anywhere near this.”

  Theo’s impersonation would implicate her, but Thierry had been smart enough to arrange for Meemaw to be seen in public by enough witnesses that no one could shift the blame for whatever was about to happen onto her shoulders.

  “She’s fine,” Theo promised me. “I swear to you that no harm will come to her from this.”

  The words rang with mag
ic that held a fine thread of truth woven into the vow.

  Before I could press him for the reason he was here, other than to impersonate Meemaw, Isaac hauled me to my feet.

  “Careful, brother.” Isaac fastened a stern look on his brother then wiggled the fingers of his right hand. “I’ll know if you’re not.”

  Curious what that meant, I didn’t intrude in their private moment.

  “Goes both ways, bro.” Theo grinned through Meemaw’s face, and the effect was eerie. “Keep him safe, Dell.”

  That’s not my job almost popped out of my mouth in a fit of pique, but Isaac had volunteered to play backup. That meant I owed him the same protection. “I will. I’ll get both of the lunkheads home safe.”

  “We’re running on borrowed time, people. Let’s move.” Thierry stepped over Theo and led us out into the hall. “The cell housing the tether is this way.” We ran full tilt until we hit a set of solid steel doors that Thierry keyed us through. As it slid closed behind us, I heard footsteps pounding and shouted voices along with Theo’s rising wails. “This is a highly restricted area. There are no guards. For now, the location is considered top secret. Let’s keep it that way.”

  The area in question resembled the rest of Macon. There were basic cells and a walled-off portion that had been transformed into the intricate locking chamber we had just exited. It was as if they had sealed off what had once been an active portion of the prison. Had it been by design? Or accidental? I would have had to understand how tethers were created to decide, I suppose, and no one had written books on them. Not that I had read.

  “It’s through here.” Thierry guided us into a cell. Isaac went first and then Enzo. I was reluctant to cram myself back into a tiny concrete box no matter how mystical an escape I had been promised. A whine tightened my throat. The wolf, who still couldn’t manifest, wanted no part of this scheme. I couldn’t say I blamed her, but Thierry had been right about one thing. Lorimar represented a new ideal, a dream of peace and coexistence, and all dreams came at a cost. “Ready?”

  I eased inside and accepted the hand Isaac offered me. He drew me flush against his side, and then Enzo was there, taking up my other hand. Heat tickled my nape. The experience of being sandwiched between them… Well, let’s just say it wasn’t a bad one.

  Thierry drew a knife from her pocket, flicked it open and sliced her palm to the bone. She doused the area in front of us in her blood and then began twisting unseen dials or spinning invisible knobs. Who knew? Her wound knitted closed before my eyes, faster than any healing I had ever witnessed, and I wondered again who she was under that affable exterior. She might only be half fae, but she was far from human.

  “Where will this spit us out?” I wondered aloud since no one else had enlightened me.

  “A coat closet at Firn Hall, the king’s private estate,” she said absently. “He’s expecting you.”

  “King Rook?” I croaked.

  “I didn’t figure you one to get flustered over titles,” Isaac said to my right.

  “She’s a woman going to meet a king dressed in an orange jumpsuit,” Enzo replied. “Of course she’s flustered.”

  “Trust me, Rook won’t care.” The air thickened as magic pulsed in the room, and she lowered her hands. “On the topic of trust, don’t believe one sugared word that falls past his honeyed lips. Don’t take clothing from him. Don’t dine with him. Don’t enter his room under any circumstances.”

  Rook? How had she gotten to be on such informal terms with the current king of Faerie? And why did she think entering his rooms was even a possibility?

  “You speaking from experience?” Isaac drawled.

  “He’s my ex-husband.” She shrugged when my jaw dropped. “It’s complicated.”

  Enzo huffed out a laugh at my elbow. “Relationships usually are.”

  “It’s time.” Thierry stepped back until she stood in the doorway. “Walk straight through and hold on tight to each other or you may not all end up in the same place. Oh, and I’m sorry in advance.”

  “For what?” I frowned at her, but the guys, ignoring my question, rushed forward, dragging me behind them and thrusting us into the tether.

  “Remember your promise, Isaac,” she yelled, her voice squeezing flat as we left her behind us.

  The sensation of falling sucked my stomach into the soles of my feet, and my head spun like I’d been on a bender down at the local bar. Wargs didn’t get drunk without a lot of effort, and Meemaw hadn’t raised a quitter. I tightened my grip on the guys, letting their presence anchor me in the ether. Just when I felt like I might vomit up my toenails, we slammed face-first into a frozen slab of a door. Stunned, we all slid to the ice-block floor in a pile of moaning, miserable limbs. As important as it had seemed a second ago to ask what promise Isaac had made, it evaporated in the face of my sudden, abject misery.

  The door we had all just kissed swung open, and a tall man dressed in a neat black frock coat paired with trousers of the same shade peered down at us from a considerable height. His impeccable outfit reminded me of the period movies I was so fond of watching. Must be the cravat tied expertly at his throat. His outline glimmered with faint silver light, and when he turned his gaze on me, I started at the perfect whiteness of his eyes. He leaned forward, and a curtain of silvery hair slid over his shoulder. He was an ice sculpture come to breathtaking life. He smelled of fresh snow, and the iciness of his scent burned my nostrils when I inhaled.

  “Ah. There you are.” He offered me his hand, which was gloved. “I wasn’t expecting you until dinner.”

  “Are you King Rook?” I managed to ring his hand with mine on the third attempt. My eyesight remained wobbly, and my stomach twisted into tighter knots as he drew me to my feet. “I would curtsey, but I don’t know how, and I would probably fall over if I tried.”

  “You are delightful.” His breath formed snowflakes in the air. “Alas, I am not the king but his humble servant. You may call me Bháin.”

  “Juan?” Enzo attempted the pronunciation from his seat on the tiles.

  “No.” Bháin clipped out the reprimand then returned his attention to me. “I will show you to your room.”

  Isaac pulled himself up with help from the doorframe. “Thierry didn’t mention any accommodations.”

  “My former mistress has acclimated to tether travel.” A glint sharpened his eyes. “She must have forgotten how taxing it can be for those unaccustomed to Faerie’s splendor.”

  Isaac ignored the snide comment and helped Enzo stand. As the only full human in our group, he was suffering the worst, if his pale face was any indication. Either the scholars were wrong about witches having roots in Faerie, or their bloodlines were too diluted to offer him any protection.

  As Bháin had yet to relinquish his proprietary hold on me, I used Enzo’s lurching as an excuse to break away from the fae and prop up my friend.

  “My master wishes for you to stay the night and leave after breakfast.” Bháin performed a slight bow. “If you’ll follow me?”

  The three of us ended up walking with our arms linked, and it reminded me of that iconic scene from The Wizard of Oz where Dorothy, the tin man and the cowardly lion set out down the yellow brick road. Except our road was paved with ice blocks.

  Winter was a definite theme, and I was grateful wargs ran hot. Isaac, I startled to notice, had completed a partial shift into a blue-skinned creature with ropy green hair. Enzo had activated a spell or perhaps charmed his clothes to retain heat. Otherwise, his teeth would have been chattering by now.

  Buoyed by the resourcefulness of my crew, half convinced we just might make it out of this alive, not even the macabre painting depicting old battles could lower my spirits. I did wonder at the artful arrangement of weaponry positioned next to the portraits. It was like the king was saying, See this battle? These are the swords and axes that won it. Had there been gore preserved on the edges, I wouldn’t have been surprised.

  “The gentlemen will share quarters.” Bh�
�in opened the door onto a lavish suite with two queen-sized beds. “The rooms are hard to heat. Sharing will alleviate some of the burden on our resident elementals.”

  “The fires are alive?” I asked as Isaac growled in a bubbling voice to suit his new skin, “Where will Dell be staying?”

  “I have prepared my former mistress’s suite for the lady.” Bháin inclined his head toward me. “I believe she will be most comfortable there. The elementals are a favorite of Lady Thierry’s, and she has tamed several to her hand that reside in her chambers.”

  Isaac slid his hand into my pants pocket, holding my gaze the whole time. I brought him in for a hug to cover the movement from an eagle-eyed Bháin. We broke apart, and I helped Enzo reach his bed before the servant ushered me down the hall to my own room.

  “You mentioned dinner.” Wargs could always be counted on to bring their appetite on any trip. Too bad I couldn’t indulge mine. “Will we be dining with the king?”

  “Not tonight.” He entered Thierry’s bedroom, which was a lush space appointed with a king-sized bed and massive fireplace stocked with the promised frolicking elementals, but kept his position by the door. “He will join you at the morning meal and send you off properly as befitting his former lady’s companions.”

  A chill whispered up my spine that had nothing to do with the subzero temperature of the place. “I appreciate your assistance and hospitality, Mr. Bháin.”

  “Only Bháin,” he demurred, a hint of irritation that I hadn’t thanked him outright flashing across his beautiful face.

  I didn’t know as much about fae as I should, obviously, or I wouldn’t be here now. But Cam had drummed that one rule into my head, and it was becoming reflex. Never thank the fae.

  He showed himself out, and it wasn’t until he left I wondered if I had been meant to give him some token for his assistance similar to the tip offered to bellhops. Having never been in a royal palace and having never met a fae born of Faerie, I could only hope I hadn’t committed a terrible social faux pas. Well, another one.