Heir of the Dog Page 7
“I’m sorry you had to witness that.” Her hand lowered to clutch the simple gold cross necklace she wore. “Would you like to sit for a moment?”
“Thank you.” I eased back a step. “I think I need a minute alone.”
Breathe in. Breathe out. Think calming thoughts.
Fluffy clouds. Blue sky. Black birds. Automatic rifles...
No. Bad idea. Deep breaths. Calming thoughts.
Screw it. Raven owed me after this.
Of all the bunnies in all the world, he swooped down on mine.
Back at my sedan, a couple of surprises waited for me. “Do I even want to know?”
Sean the bunny was hopping mad inside a plastic pet crate resting on the hood of the car. His captor held a head of iceberg lettuce and wore an amused smirk while peeling off leaves and poking them through the bars. Sean, for his part, shunned the greens, which amused Raven more.
Raven stood there, still barefoot, but wearing a faded denim shirt tucked into his jeans. Even his hair was tamed. He had plaited it down his back and tied the ends with a blue velvet scrunchie some preteen girl in my apartment building was probably tossing her room to find.
Given Raven’s tendency to take what he wanted, one of my neighbors must have also supplied Raven’s clothes, which tempted me to ask him for a name to go with the wardrobe. I restrained myself, but barely. Asking was the same as admitting I found his build attractive, which struck me as inviting trouble. The pet carrier intrigued me less, though someone must be searching for Sparky’s home away from home.
Before Raven crossed realms, we had to talk about him returning his borrowed supplies.
“I got bored.” The lettuce vanished from his hand. “This realm is...dull...compared to home.”
My eyebrows climbed. “Dull?”
He dusted his hands. “How do you entertain yourself?”
“I read or stream movies on my computer.” I paused. “When was the last time you were here?”
His gaze went distant. “During the Wars of Scottish Independence.”
Damn.
I mentally adjusted his age. “You don’t seem traumatized by modern technology.”
Raven’s finger cut a trail through the pollen turning my white car sneeze-worthy yellow. He rubbed his thumb and finger together. “Is that how it works in those movies you watch?”
“Yes.” I amended, “Not that I believe everything I see on TV.”
“Nor do I.”
“Wait—you watch TV? In Faerie?”
“It required time to cross the threshold in such a way that my trespass into this realm would not be detected immediately.” Raven pursed his lips. “My consciousness was here before my body arrived.”
A guy who could literally separate his mind from his body. Nope. Not creepy. At all.
“The black spot. That was you, pre-body?” I considered him. “So your consciousness chilled out in this realm and waited for your body to appear? And you figured while you waited, you might as well learn about our world?”
He nodded.
“Then you upgraded to birds.”
Another nod.
“Birds who camped out on my mother’s lawn.”
His lips parted before he mashed them shut.
“She wasn’t thrilled with that. It would be great if you could leave her out of all this.”
“Thierry.”
“See, she pretends I’m not half fae and, well, I let her. But you slapped her with a reminder.”
“Thierry.”
“What?”
“I don’t know where your mother lives.”
Chapter Fifteen
“I don’t understand.” Horns blared behind me as I cut off traffic. “Who sent Mom the Bird-O-Gram?”
My thoughts turned to the voice from the shower. He had warned me away from the Rook. Were the birds another warning? Or were they a threat? I didn’t know, and I wasn’t taking chances with Mom’s life.
In the passenger seat, Raven braced his hands on the dash. His nails sank into the plastic and would leave crescent shapes behind.
“Enemies of Faerie,” he gritted through a tight jaw.
I punched the horn, warning other drivers out of my way. “Vague much?”
“There are those who seek war after so many centuries of peace.” He swallowed hard. “There are others who disagree with you being given a choice. They believe that, as the Black Dog’s daughter, it is your duty to fulfil his obligations until he returns, even if you must be persuaded to cooperate.”
Dread tightened my chest. “Persuaded how?”
When he didn’t answer, my mind filled the blanks in horrific detail and my foot stomped on the accelerator.
“Why black birds?” I demanded.
“Crows and ravens are—” His sentence ended in snarled liquid syllables when his head bounced off the window after we skidded left.
“Death omens,” I finished the thought for him.
“They are also evidence as incriminating as a fingerprint.” His voice lowered. “Someone doesn’t want you to trust me.”
“Well, mission accomplished.” I wish I had free hands to slow clap. “I don’t trust you or anyone else with a Faerie agenda.”
Raven grimaced. “When was the last time you saw your mother?”
I tallied the flipped-shifts I’d worked since then in my head. “Two days ago.”
He didn’t have anything to add.
I clenched my teeth. “If anything has happened to her...”
“I will accept responsibility.”
“That’s not good enough.”
One more hard right made Raven flinch, and then we were there. Mom’s house.
He yanked his fingers from their indents in the dash, leaned back and shut his eyes.
A whimper brought our attention to the backseat. The stink of ammonia lit up my nose. Great. Bad Luck Bunny had wet his furry britches. I almost felt sorry for him. Almost.
Raven’s lip curled. “What about the púca?”
“Leave him.” Sean was no longer a priority.
After throwing open the car door, I climbed out and ran up to the house. The front door stood ajar. The knob cracked against the wall when I shoved it out of my way and barreled inside. The TV was off, both the living room and the kitchen light dark.
“Do you see a car in the garage? The big room next door to the house?” I called to Raven, who stood on the welcome mat. He vanished, and I worked my way from room to room. “Mom?” I gulped down my panic. “Are you home?”
“I looked through the slats.” Raven’s voice rose behind me. “An orange car is in the large room.”
“Mom gets carsick if she isn’t driving. There’s no way she left with anyone in theirs. That means she took her afternoon walk early or...” I swallowed hard, “...something has happened.”
Shoving past Raven, I hit the hallway leading to her bedroom, flipping on lights as I went, popping my head into the rooms I hadn’t checked yet. Empty. Dark. Empty. Dark. Her room was my last hope. I rested my hand on the knob, inhaled and pushed open the door. The glow from her plug-in air freshener cast a halo over her throw pillows. Resting atop one lilac-colored sham curled a single black feather.
Lifting my feet took more effort the nearer I got to her bed.
I pinched that feather between my fingers and turned to Raven. “What does this mean?”
He took it from me, his eyes narrowing. “Your mother has been taken.”
“First the birds on her lawn and now this,” I snarled. “Black birds and black feathers, Raven.”
“I know how this looks,” he said softly.
“It looks a hell of a lot like you’re behind this.” I shoved him against the wall and braced my forearm against his throat. “Tell me you didn’t do this. Give me your word, as the Morrigan’s son, or I’m dragging your ass in front of the magistrates right now.”
His breathing remained calm. “I vow, as the Morrigan’s son, I did not take your mother.”
“There are carvings in the shaft of the feather.” He held it out to me. “They’re runes. The same ones used to operate the tether between realms. They were leaving you a means of following them.”
I snatched the feather and studied the foreign symbols. “They took her to Faerie.”
I had screwed up. I should have gone to the magistrates immediately. I had been too slow making up my mind about Raven’s offer, and now some asshat from Faerie had made it up for me.
I stormed through the house headed for my car. I tugged my cellphone from my pocket and sent Shaw a text to meet me at the office ASAP.
“Wait.” Raven grabbed my arm and took the feather. “Where are you going?”
“To the magistrates.” I shrugged him off me. “They’re the only ones who can get her back.”
He pocketed the blackened quill. “You overestimate the conclave’s influence in Faerie.”
“The magistrates are nobles.” One Seelie and one Unseelie, as every conclave outpost required. “Are you saying Faerie won’t listen to its own nobility?”
“Those who are sent to monitor this realm are outcast from their families.” Raven corralled me against the car. “In the eyes of the High Court, this is all they are fit to do. The consuls in Faerie couldn’t care less what magistrates here have to say. They are lesser nobles. Not benevolent ambassadors as you seem to believe.”
“I’ll have to take my chances.” I shoved him stumbling back and slid into the driver’s seat.
He caught the door before I slammed it. “I’m sorry, Thierry.”
I glared up at him. “Sorry doesn’t cut it.”
“The conclave can’t know I’m here.” He squatted to put us at eye level. “No one can.”
“I filed a report after you poached from the Morrigan.” I stretched that statement into a lie. “They know you’re responsible.”
“That is unfortunate.” He clamped a hand over my wrist. “That means your time is up.”
“What are you talking about?” Tugging against him got me exactly nowhere.
“If the magistrates know I’m here, they will be watching the tethers.” Urgency spiked his tone. “I can’t risk being trapped in this realm.”
He placed my hands on the wheel. Magic wound over my wrists and stuck my hands in place. He shut the door, circled the car and climbed onto the seat beside me.
I struggled against the invisible restraints. “What are you doing?”
“What I should have done in the first place.” He grimaced. “I’m taking you home to Faerie.”
Compelled by Raven’s magic, I drove straight to the conclave, which suited me just fine. We sat in the parked car, him peering through his window and me praying Shaw was racing up the drive behind us. Raven pursed his lips and squinted his eyes. Call me crazy, but I got the impression the glamours applied to this place slid right off before his eyes. No Word required.
All I saw and all I would see until I deactivated the wards was the glamour depicting a dilapidated farmhouse and the adjacent field.
“You can’t sneak past the guards.” I grunted while tugging on my hands. “You’re going to get caught.”
“I don’t think so.” He studied a point in the distance. “I’ve already done this once, remember?”
“You separated your consciousness and crossed the ward in pieces.” I looked him up and down. “You’re fully formed now.”
“It will require more finesse,” he agreed. “For one thing, there are two of us.”
I ground my teeth. “I’m not going to Faerie until I speak with the magistrates.”
“You’re trembling.” He shifted toward me. “Are you frightened?”
“My mother was kidnapped, and according to you, she’s being held hostage until I agree to be a temp for my father at court,” I spat. “Of course I’m afraid.”
“It’s more than that.” His intense gaze stripped me raw. “You’re scared of the other side. Afraid of finding out how Faerie looks, what it’s like there. Your mother poisoned you with her doubts. You fear cloaking yourself fully in the mantle of the Black Dog.” His voice softened. “You have no idea what you truly are.”
“Leave my mother out of this. She raised me. Macsen Sullivan was a sperm donor, not a parent.”
Raven brushed a stray hair from my cheek. “This is the best chance you have to save your mother.”
I snapped at his hand. “It just happens to also be the best chance you have of getting what you want.”
He exited the car.
Think, Thierry. Escape seemed unlikely. Rescue was my best hope, but my knight in shining pickup truck was nowhere in sight.
Raven opened my door and bent inside. He passed his hands over mine, setting me free, and I leaned forward and bit his ear as hard as I could. Blood filled my mouth, and his curses spilled from the car. I shoved him backward and scrambled outside, hissing my Word and yanking off my glove. I took a step toward the marshal’s office, but Raven tackled me.
Magic boiled in my fingertips when I clamped them around his wrist, but the power fizzled and dripped unspent to the ground. I pushed every ounce of energy I had into the hot runes where my bare palm touched his skin. Nada.
He clamped a hand over my mouth in anticipation of a scream I was too stunned to utter.
“We are both death portents,” he panted. “We are immune to one another’s magic.”
I recovered enough to bite his palm until more of his blood coated my tongue.
Raven hissed an incantation, and my lips smashed together as if an invisible hand had stitched my mouth shut.
“You, however, are not immune to spells.” He spun me toward him and gripped my upper arm. “I came prepared in the event you were uncooperative.” He dragged me back to the car and patted me down. He found the phone and tossed it onto the seat. “You won’t need that where we’re going.”
Another burst of magic hit the air as a second spell glued my feet to the ground.
“Don’t worry about the púca.” Raven circled the car, cracking the windows. “He has all he needs to survive until he’s found.” When Raven returned, his touch unstuck me. “I regret things had to be this way. I wanted to be your friend.”
Some of my mumbled threats must have gotten through, because he scowled.
Friend? Not likely. This nonconsensual road trip into Faerie had put him squarely into enemy territory.
His quiet sigh might have conveyed remorse, but his slender fingers seemed less sympathetic as they dug into my upper arm. I struggled against him. He didn’t bother noticing. He kept on walking.
Raven was escorting me to Faerie, even if I snarled and snapped at him every step of the way.
Chapter Sixteen
When Raven said he came prepared, he meant it. He conjured a pan flute and rested the top edge against his bottom lip. The flute was crafted from seven cuts of a hollow reed, dried and polished to a high shine, then lashed together with brown leather. Each segment was longer than the one before it. He held it by the shortest pipe and blew.
The glamour wrapping our surroundings rustled, tearing free and flapping on the magical breeze.
I leapt back and landed on my butt when chain link appeared to thrust from the ground not a foot from the toe of my shoe. My eyes bulged while the tattered glamour ripped from its frame and the prison exploded into full view.
The shreds of concealing magic drifted through the air in our direction. I worked my jaw to ask a question, realized I could open my mouth and figured the unbinding spell he played must be loosening the spells he had cast on me. I worked my stiff lips. “Wush happening?”
He didn’t answer, but he did help me stand.
His music continued to shred the conclave’s defenses while we stood exposed to anyone glancing our way. Over our heads, those ragged scraps of glamour gained speed. The first opaque flake smacked into me and stuck like tissue paper d
ipped in Mod Podge.
Raven’s playing orchestrated a whirl of magical decoupage until I was covered from head to toe. A quick glance confirmed he was similarly plastered by magical debris. He lowered the pipe and, with a twist of his wrist, sent it back wherever he had conjured it from in the first place.
“Camouflage,” he answered breathlessly. “Come on. The effect doesn’t last long.”
This time when he tugged, I resisted, but the spell on my feet was stronger than the one on my mouth, and I went where he led me, cursing all the while.
Beyond the prison, he urged me into a run, and I discovered his flute hadn’t torn glamour from all of the buildings, only the ones nearest us. In the distance, I saw the field of withered corn, the skeletal stalks hunched and broken.
Our destination was a no-brainer. The old windmill. The tether to Faerie.
I figured we had arrived when Raven pulled up short in front of me, jerking me to a halt while he examined each of the structure’s spindly legs. Or I assumed that’s what he was doing based on how he started squinting into thin air and moving his lips. The area was off-limits to most personnel, including me, and I wished I could see what he was doing. Activating the tether into Faerie, yes, but how? That information would come in handy, especially since he had taken the feather with its coordinates. Say if I managed to escape, which I’ll admit was becoming less likely by the minute.
Concentration lined Raven’s face. Reaching toward nothing, he completed a complex ritual with the hand not anchoring me to the spot. His gaze drifted skyward as a gust of air blasted hairs into my eyes. What he saw up there brought a fierce grin to his face, which I immediately regretted admiring. He caught me at it, cranked his smile up several megawatts and drew me flush against him. His arms encircled my waist, his face dipped toward mine. “The first time is always the worst.”
“What a guy thing to say.” I managed to work my hands between us and shoved to give myself an inch of personal space.
“I envy you.” Wild joy animated him. “You will see Faerie through fresh eyes as I never have.”
A tiny ripple of fear collided with the doubt making my stomach churn.