Prince of Air and Darkness (17 page)

Usually, even the shortest ride seemed an eternity in the aged beast of an elevator, but this one seemed to pass in a heartbeat. Kiera tried another impassioned plea, but her mother ignored her, striding up to Hunter’s apartment and ringing the bell. Phantom placed himself right at her mother’s side, the two of them blocking Kiera from the doorway.

Moments later, Hunter opened the door.

Strangely, his eyes fixed immediately on Phantom, skimming over Kiera and her mother as though they were hardly important. Even more strangely, Phantom’s hackles rose and his lips pulled away from his teeth.

Hunter’s face went deathly pale as he met the wolfhound’s furious gaze. “Well,” he said. “Damn.”

Kiera looked from him, to Phantom, to her mother. The grimness was back in her mother’s face as she put a hand on the door and pushed it farther open. Hunter didn’t resist.

“May we come in?” Kiera’s mother asked, in a tone that said it was not a question.

Hunter held his hands to his sides, palms open, and backed slowly into the apartment. Phantom stalked forward, stiff-legged, snarling.

“What is going on?” Kiera asked yet again, following her mother into the room and closing the door behind her. “This is all way too weird for me.”

Hunter finally wrested his attention from the snarling wolfhound and met her eyes. He opened his mouth as if to say something; then his shoulders sagged and he shook his head. “What can I possibly say?” he asked himself in an undertone.

“Oh, you’ll be saying plenty, mister!” her mother growled. “Sit down and keep your hands where I can see them.”

Something dark and dangerous stirred in Hunter’s eyes, something that sent a chill down Kiera’s spine. Phantom gave a sharp bark of warning. Hunter glowered at the wolfhound and curled his lip in disdain.

“Really?” he said. “You think you can take me?”

Was he actually talking to the dog? It sure looked like it. And it certainly didn’t look like he was kidding around, either.

“He has help,” her mother said.

Kiera felt sure she must be dreaming, because her mother was now holding a small silver gun pointed at Hunter’s chest.

Hunter looked back and forth between the gun and the dog, then held his hands out to his sides once more and moved to sit on the love seat. Phantom, still bristling and snarling, parked himself right in front of Hunter.

“Please, be my guests,” Hunter said, jerking his chin toward the couch while keeping his hands still. “Have a seat.”

Kiera would have remained on her feet, futilely trying to figure out what the hell was happening, except her mom guided her toward the couch and she was too stunned to resist.

Hunter had recovered from his original shock and now wore a faint, mocking smile on his lips. He lounged on the love seat as though perfectly at ease, but Kiera was certain it was all an act, a mask to hide whatever he was really feeling.

“Would you be so kind as to call off your dog?” he asked, his voice betraying nothing but amusement.

“Not just yet,” her mother said. “First, tell us who you are.”

“Why don’t you ask him?” Hunter drawled, indicating Phantom. “He seems to recognize me.”

“Excuse me,” Kiera interrupted, “but am I going insane or having a nightmare or something?” No one paid the slightest attention to her.

“I have a good guess who you are,” her mother said, “but I want you to tell my daughter the truth.” The gun glinted menacingly in her hand.

If Hunter was intimidated, be didn’t show it. “What makes you think she’ll believe me?”

“You know,” Kiera interjected, “I’m sitting right here. It’s not only not necessary to talk about me in third person, it’s downright rude.”

Hunter sighed and finally ended his staring contest with her mother, turning to her. “Sorry. This is fairly . . . awkward.” There was a flash of some emotion in his eyes, but he quickly turned back toward her mother and put his mask back in place. “Please ask the . . . dog . . . to back off. It’s hard to think with him slobbering on my shoes.”

Phantom let out an indignant bark and lunged. Kiera’s mother called him off at the last possible moment. Kiera was amazed he actually obeyed when his eyes looked so blood-crazed.

“Good doggie,” Hunter said, and Phantom started toward him once again.

“Stop it!” her mother commanded, and Phantom halted midstride. “Keep taunting him like that and I won’t be able to stop him from tearing your throat out. Now start talking. Who are you?”

“My name is Hunter Teague—that wasn’t a lie.” He turned to Kiera once more, and the mask slipped. In his eyes, she saw something she could only describe as misery. “I’m so sorry, Kiera,” he said, face tight with strain. “For everything.”

“Tell me what ‘everything’ is,” she said, her voice shaking.

The anguish in his face deepened. “My mother is the Queen of Air and Darkness,” he said. When he saw Kiera’s blank look, he clarified. “She’s the Queen of the Unseelie Court.”

Kiera wanted to dismiss this as nonsense, but the sense of portentousness that hung in the air wouldn’t allow her to. “Those are the bad guys, right? The Unseelie Court? Goblins and bogles and things that go bump in the night.”

He closed his eyes in evident pain. “Yes.”

“What do you want with my daughter?” her mother demanded.

He opened his eyes and raised his chin. “My mother sent me here to seduce her.”

Kiera gasped at the pain that lanced through her heart. The idea was just too ridiculous to believe, and yet . . . And yet a part of her had known all along that his pursuit of her hadn’t made sense. A part of her that had warned her he was bad news and she should stay away. If only she’d listened!

“I never wanted to hurt you,” Hunter continued, “but I’m my mother’s son, and my will is not my own. I’m sorry.”

He started to rise, but Phantom put him back in his chair with a snarl.

For the first time in her life, Kiera thought she might actually like the dog. Her mother shifted closer to her on the couch and slung an arm around her shoulders, glaring at Hunter. She was still pointing the gun at him with her other hand.

“Give me one good reason I shouldn’t let Phantom tear your crotch out,” she said, her arm tightening around Kiera’s shoulders.

Hunter ignored her, still watching Kiera. “Turns out I’m a sorry excuse for a seducer. In the end, I couldn’t go through with it. I couldn’t hurt you like that.”

His earlier rejection took on a whole new meaning in light of what she’d just learned, but it didn’t make her feel any better. “It’s a little late to worry about hurting me, you prick!”

He stood up, incurring another growl from Phantom. He narrowed his eyes at the dog. “Bite me,” he snapped, and quickly crossed the distance to the sofa, where he knelt on the floor in front of her. Phantom lunged and sank his teeth into Hunter’s leg as he knelt. Hunter ignored him, the only sign of pain a tightening of his features. Kiera’s mom pointed the gun directly at Hunter’s head, but he paid no more attention to that than he did to Phantom.

“I’m sorry,” he said yet again.

This had to be some kind of bizarre dream. Kiera shook her head as if trying to clear the cobwebs. Her mother was sitting quietly beside her, arm still around her shoulders. Hunter knelt at her feet, practically groveling in his futile attempt to apologize. And Phantom continued to growl, teeth buried in Hunter’s calf, as blood welled around the wound.

“Doesn’t that hurt?” she found herself asking.

“Yes,” he answered, “but I don’t care. Not now.” He reached for her hand, trapping it in his own before she realized what he was going to do.

A part of her mind said she should be recoiling, shouldn’t let this lying imposter touch her, but it seemed too much trouble to resist. He didn’t say anything, just clasped her hand in what she supposed he meant as a gesture of comfort. His face grew paler, and his palm was clammy in hers. Kiera frowned. Much though he probably deserved to suffer . . . “Mom, can you make Phantom let go?”

“I don’t know that I want to,” her mother answered in a glacial voice.

“Please?”

Her mom hesitated a long moment then finally called Phantom off. As an added bonus, she finally lowered the gun, though she didn’t put it away. The dog reluctantly let go, his muzzle now stained with Hunter’s blood. Kiera’s stomach threatened her with dire consequences should she look at the blood for another moment, so she forced her eyes away. She sat up straighter on the sofa, and her mom took the hint and gave her a little space. Kiera focused on Hunter’s face, seeing the pain etched into his features and knowing that very little of it was due to the bite wound. There was still so much she didn’t understand.

“Why?” she whispered, unable to force more sound from her throat.

He opened his mouth to answer, then seemed to think better of it, flicking a glance at her mother. “Does she know who her father is?”

“I’ve told her. But she doesn’t believe me.”

Kiera shook her head. “Oh, no. No, no. My father is
not
king of the fairies.”

“Finvarra is the High King of the Daoine Sidhe and the King of the Seelie Court, not king of the fairies,” Hunter said, as if that made everything better.

“And who the hell are the Deena Shee?” she asked, saying the words as if she’d never heard them before.

Hunter looked perplexed. “Surely your mother has taught you
something
about your heritage, even if you didn’t believe it.”

“I have,” her mother confirmed. “Kiera’s just being difficult because she doesn’t like what she’s learning.”

“Will you two stop talking about me in third person? It’s irritating the crap out of me. And even if my father is the king of some kind of mythological elf warriors, what does that have to do with anything?”

Hunter gave her a stern look. “The Daoine Sidhe are not mythological and they’re not elves.”

“Okay. A very real band of fey warriors. Is that better?”

“Yes.”

“And this matters to me . . . why?”

Hunter glanced at her mother. “Any chance you can convince the dog not to bite me again when I explain?”

“I suspect I’ll be
begging
him to bite you by the time you finish!”

“Mother,” Kiera said in a warning tone.

Her mother sniffed. “I’m afraid I see an obvious and very nasty reason why the Queen of Air and Darkness would send her son to seduce Finvarra’s daughter.”

Hunter bowed his head.

“Finish the confession,” her mother insisted. “Tell my daughter just what you were planning to do, and see if she doesn’t want me to sic Phantom on you when you’re done.”

He heaved a massive sigh and raised his head, sad eyes looking into Kiera’s. “I won’t blame you if you do,” he said. “My mother . . .” He swallowed hard, and the pain in his expression redoubled. “My mother wanted a child who would be heir to both the Seelie and the Unseelie thrones.”

The blood drained from Kiera’s face, and her mouth went dry. “Oh, God,” she whispered, her throat knotting up as she realized what he meant. She shook her head, and tears spilled despite her best efforts to contain them.

“Shall I have Phantom rip his throat out?” her mother asked quietly.

The hurt crystalized into fury, at least for the moment. “I think there’s another part of his anatomy I’d rather have ripped out!” Phantom bared his teeth eagerly, as if he’d understood every word and was looking forward to obeying.

Hunter let go of her hand and straightened his shoulders. He flicked his wrist, and suddenly there was a knife in his hand. Kiera gasped and realized that there was no way even Phantom could move fast enough to save her. But instead of attacking her or using her as a hostage, Hunter turned the blade around and handed the hilt to her.

“Hold this for me,” he said.  She took it from him almost reflexively, and he rose to his feet, favoring his injured leg as he turned to face the bristling wolfhound.

“You want a piece of me, doggie?” he taunted. “It’s almost a fair fight now.”

Phantom crouched as though ready to lunge.

“All right, stop it!” Kiera cried before hostilities began. Hunter and Phantom continued to rake each other with alpha-male stares, but neither attacked.

Kiera had been able to accept Phantom’s usual behavior as weird, but just barely within the realm of believable. But tonight, pieces were not adding up. How had her mother managed to get him into a no pets building? How come he was off the leash? How come he and Hunter had immediately started challenging one another when Hunter opened the door? How come Hunter kept making the snide dog comments? And how come Phantom seemed to take offense at them?

She gave the wolfhound a stare of her own, remembering how it had shied away from the horseshoe at her mother’s house. She pointed at him and looked at her mother. “Is that something other than a dog?”

Her mother grinned sheepishly but didn’t answer.

“It’s a phooka,” Hunter said.

Kiera turned her attention back to him. “A phooka?” Her mom had told her enough fairy stories that she’d heard of phookas, but damned if she was going to admit it.

“A shape-shifter. He can do horses too, though dogs are his forte.”

“Uh-huh.” She couldn’t help sounding skeptical, no matter how much evidence she’d already seen that some of her mother’s nuttiness wasn’t quite so nutty.

“I’m sure he’d be happy to show you his human form, except, of course, that the only reason we’re even close to evenly matched is because he’s got those nasty teeth right now.”

The phooka was apparently as easily baited as a human male, for suddenly the air shimmered like a heat mirage. Moments later, Kiera blinked to see a man standing where Phantom had been.

He was not a particularly large man, his frame more agile than bulky. His long black hair was receding from his temples and pulled away from his face by a leather thong. Hunter’s blood still stained his chin.

“Size isn’t everything,” the phooka said, looking like he wanted to burn holes in Hunter with his eyes. Kiera noticed that his lips were still pulled away from his teeth in a dog-like snarl.

Hunter gave him a nasty grin. “You’d better hope not.”

The phooka clenched his fists and crouched.