Bound by the Vampire Queen (28 page)

She was more than ready to accept the gift. Not only would it stave off the horrors of the night, but the homesickness she felt down to the depths of her soul. She hated it here. She wanted to go home. And the fact she felt it the way a child did, as an all consuming longing, made her even more worried.

She pushed it away. She didn’t need a poisonous tea to help her get lost in the temporary balm of sensual oblivion. Just Jacob.

Chapter 11

WHEN sunrise came, though Jacob was reluctant to give himself to sleep, Lyssa insisted on it. Upon her request, the Fae household staff had provided heavy curtains for the open window. Just before darkening the room for dawn, she lingered there, watching a pair of phoenixes fly past, feathers catching an early glimmer of dawn’s rays. Several fairies, trailing glittering dust, winged their way with erratic swiftness across the field. They were laughing and chasing one another. Though one could never tell with Fae, they acted like teenagers, rushing home before dawn’s light and their parents’ waking betrayed they’d been gone all night. She thought about what Rhoswen had said, wondered if they’d figured a way to slip out to spend the evening carousing in the mortal world.

It was odd, thinking of teenage rebel ion in such a context. But there were far more similarities between the two worlds than Rhoswen wanted to accept. Fae, vampire, human… those were just the clothes for the souls trapped inside, all trying to find things that were remarkably the same.

Cayden was out early, doing sword drill's by himself. He was stripped down to breeches and boots, and working up a fine sweat, his long hair tied back but sleek at his temples. She watched him for a few minutes, never averse to studying a fit man exercising the full range of his muscles in a half-naked fashion, then she let the curtain fall shut.

She could see in the dark, though at this point she couldn’t say if that drew from her Fae abilities or her lingering vampire ones. Jacob was watching her.

The blanket was pul ed up to his hips, barely. With one arm over his head, fingers loosely grasping the carved wood spindles of the bed, the other lying loosely on his abdomen, he made a pleasurable picture. His gaze was serious however, concerned.

That concern probed into the dark areas she’d experienced earlier in the evening, and she refused to go there. Not right now.

“I really don’t want you wandering around without me,” he said quietly.

“I know. But I need to see and be seen in this world. I need to understand it better, through my own eyes. And I want you to truly sleep,” she added, with a reproving look. “Don’t follow me around in your head, and don’t worry. She hasn’t kill ed me yet, which means there are reasons she needs me alive

—either that, or killing me would cause her too many problems. That protects us both. She knows enough about vampire lore to know if she kill's you, she kill's me.”

She didn’t add whether the converse was true.

She knew Jacob stayed away from that topic as well, neither of them able to confirm if her original third marking of him still existed under the overlay of his. She didn’t mind him staying away from it—it wasn’t something she wanted to know had been lost, either. Unless it might save his life, though having been in his mind, she knew how he felt about living without her. She felt the same way about living without him.

Crossing the room, meeting those blue eyes that understood and saw so much, she bent and touched his forehead, following it up with a kiss. “So sleep, and sleep deeply. You have a Hunt coming up, after all. And perhaps a white hart to chase, though I wouldn’t suggest you catch that princess, if you know what’s good for you.”

His fingers curled into her waist and he nudged her chin downward to give her a much deeper, more stirring kiss, one that dispel ed any amusing images of her tucking him in for the day like a child. That thought summoned another feeling, though. Seeing it, he caressed her cheek. “He’s probably driving Mason crazy as we speak. Your old friend will rethink any desire he’s ever had for his own children.” She snorted. “He’s not driving Mason crazy. All he has to do is thrust Kane at Jessica and he turns into the world’s best baby. Your son is besotted with her.”

“Not even a year old, and he has his first girlfriend.

A much older woman at that. That’s my boy.” Lyssa pinched his arm, hard, and slipped away when he made a grab at her. “Sleep. I'll bring back some of that honey to make you besotted with me, and then you'll be the perfect baby, too.” Some fairly heated images of retaliation filled her mind for that remark, images that warmed and bolstered her at once as she closed the heavy oak door behind her. Despite her confident words, once she sensed him settling down, she laid a hand on the door. She didn’t know any protection spell's that would stop a powerful Fae queen on her home turf, but she availed herself of a simple prayer charm to keep him safe. Whatever Rhoswen’s agenda, the personal and royal motivations were mixed, and that could make an already unpredictable Fae even more so.

But it didn’t change what she’d told Jacob. Though they had stayed away from a great deal of the more difficult things that had occurred last night, he’d told her of Rhoswen’s ability to bend reality and time.

Lyssa hovering over him in the room wouldn’t be as useful as meeting other Fae in this world and seeing what resources and allies they might garner from that. And she needed some time to think. Not about Arrdol, his hands touching her, his dark eyes coming close, becoming someone else’s eyes… She stopped, gave herself a vicious shake. She needed to focus on the fact she had a half sister and what that might mean. The rest was the past, gone and buried.

Traveling down the winding stairs to the main floor, she found her way to the courtyard. The castle was bustling with Samhain preparations. All manner of servants were employed in cleaning, cooking, decorating. Knowing Jacob was uneasily moving into sleep, she took a seat on an out-of-the-way bench for a few minutes and gave him the images as a bedtime story. Flocks of Fae girls with flowers in their hair and gauzy garments barely covering their nubile bodies flitted to high points in the cathedral ceiling of the great hall. They pinned streamers of autumn greenery and blossoms there that draped down so close to the floor in places that they brushed the shoulders of those coming and going. Flirtatious sensuality seemed to be a natural thing to Fae females, for like the undines under the drawbridge, the girls shamelessly teased the young guards or handsome court members that passed through, taking quick darts down to tug a lock of hair or steal a hat.

Though Cayden was a somber, steely-eyed type, with a veteran circle of the same around the queen, many of his guard appeared young. Regardless, none of those who came through were averse to bantering back and forth with the laughing girls, fueled perhaps by the festive holiday air.

A veritable army of brownies were cleaning every corner of the great hall. One even scooped up her feet with a surprisingly strong hand to sweep beneath them. He set her slippered feet back down as if she was a piece of furniture, with only an irritated grunt for acknowledgment. Other Fae polished the multitude of long tables that had been set up, another group coming in behind to put down the place settings. Intrigued, she noted the dinner plates ranged from the size of a turkey platter to a teaspoon. Doll-sized tables and chairs had been placed on the big table between normal or larger settings, and those received the tiny plates.

“The Unseelie tradition is to have several representatives from each Fae species join us to celebrate Last Night after we return from our own hunt. Or Haunt, as the case may be.”

Keldwyn stood at her elbow. The Fae wore a plain brown tunic over hose and soft boots. His dagger belt was slung low on his hips, but overall it was a casual look for him, despite the unwavering aristocratic reserve. “You know,” she mused, “I can’t determine if you’ve appointed yourself my fatherly guardian, or if you’re just guiding me down the path of good intentions toward Hell.”

His lips curved, the smile not reaching those dark eyes. “While I am older than you, Lady Lyssa, you are not the type of woman to elicit paternal feelings from any male. Unless he is your father in truth.”

“So Hell it is.”

Lyssa knew Jacob had a great deal of distrust of the Fae lord, but her feelings were more mixed. In the beginning, Keldwyn had been nothing but indifferent to Lyssa, but unlike other forest Fae, he’d not gone out of his way to be unkind to her when she’d been on the run from the Vampire Council.

During the weeks they stayed in his territory, sometimes he’d even visit their campsite at night.

He’d take a lithe cross-legged seat on the ground and whittle new arrows for his bow, or idly carve some pine knot he’d found on the forest floor. He spoke little, neither encouraging nor responding to attempts to draw him into their conversations.

Despite both of their sharpened senses, he always slipped away unnoticed. If he’d been carving, he’d leave behind whatever he’d created. A squirrel, a bear, a bat.

One night he carved a pixie, probably inspired by watching the creatures who liked to follow Lyssa around. When she was in her Fae form, they perched on her like tiny foraging birds on a gazelle in a
National Geographic
photo shoot. Of course, as soon as they discovered Keldwyn’s creation in Jacob’s pack, they took it. For the next few days they carried it about, twittering and excited. Dressing it up in various garments of leaves and flowers, they posed beside their likeness, giggling. When it finally disappeared, she expected they’d accidentally tossed it into a bear’s mouth.

Lyssa kept the carved animals, though, tucking them away for their then unborn child. She still had them, intending to give them to Kane when he was old enough that he wouldn’t turn them into gnawed corncobs. Jacob had suggested burning them instead.

The thought gave her a tight smile. Reaching out to touch her servant mentally, she was pleased to find he’d fallen into sleep at last. So now she turned her full attention to the Fae lord. “Did you know him?

My father? You brought me the rose, but you’ve never said how well you knew one another, whether you were friends.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“No, you didn’t know him, or no, you never said, and you don’t intend to do so?”

He shifted to study the decorations the Fae girls had put up, lingering on a cluster of nuts and berries twined with dark ribbons. Amused, Lyssa saw a small male Fae pluck one of the berries for a snack, only to be instantly pursued from all corners by the Fae girls. It looked like a flock of mockingbirds chasing a winged interloper on their nesting grounds. “You know,” Keldwyn said, “the men in your world purportedly hunger for clever women, probably because there are so few of them. I, on the other hand, appreciate a world populated by female simpletons. Ones who do not try to dissect every word I say.”

“Perhaps if you were less evasive, a clever woman wouldn’t have to keep her radar so well honed around you. She could afford to be a little less clever.”

“As you yourself have found, Lady Lyssa, the price of being less evasive is often too high a price to pay.

May I offer to escort you around the grounds? Queen Rhoswen will not make an appearance for a while.

She is holding court this morning, and then will have a full afternoon until the gathering tonight.” Lyssa rose, slid her fingers into the crook of his offered elbow. “What kind of court matters does she arbitrate?”

“Many. She of course has a Council that handles a great deal of them, but any Fae may appeal to speak his case before her if he is not satisfied.

However, she is known to be far less lenient in her decision making, so it’s best to be certain the principle is very important. For instance, if you’d been up earlier this morning, you would have seen a stampede of squirrels over the drawbridge. Every part of the forest has an earth Fae who cares for and rules over it, in a guardian capacity of sorts.

Sometimes they misperceive their role and believe themselves a minor monarch with delusions of conquest. One of the area goblins had been infringing on the territory of another, taking his squirrels. So, to set him back on his heels, Queen Rhoswen told him he not only had to give back the squirrels he’d taken, but also all his own as well, for the next month and a day. Until then, he must pick up and store the autumn nuts himself as the squirrels would have done.”

“Did he bring the squirrels with him?” Lyssa imagined the freed squirrels scampering across the drawbridge, headed back to their rightful territory.

“No. The decision gavel releases the magic to enact the queen’s decree. The squirrels in question were summoned instantly for the beneficiary. He led them out of the castle, a chaotic sort of Pied Piper procession.”

Lyssa noted other Fae glancing at them curiously as they passed, but they didn’t engage the two as they headed for the open drawbridge. A constant flow of Fae and equine traffic came and went, as well as other creatures. Centaurs, clopping along in twos and threes; a grumpy-looking griffin perched on top of a carriage driven by an ogre. Long lines of gnomes like ants, obviously bringing further foodstuffs for tonight’s celebration.