Prince of Air and Darkness (7 page)

He had not been prepared for her resistance. Nor, he had to admit, had he been prepared to like her. He’d bedded mortal women before, and never had even the prettiest of them managed to touch him in any but the most superficial way. He’d assumed he was incapable of feeling more than lust for a woman. Before Kiera, his full palette of emotions had seemed to comprise lust, hatred, and fear.

Cursing his mortal father for falling into the Faerie Queen’s arms and siring him, Hunter opened a bottle of Chivas. Feeling decadent and dissolute, he held the bottle to his lips and downed a big swallow, hoping to dull his mind, because he didn’t like where his thoughts were going. He downed another swallow, but no alcohol in the world worked that fast, and his mind spiraled out of control, conjuring memories best left buried. Memories of a warm smile, of kind words and real affection. Memories of feeling safe, of knowing someone stood between him and the terrifying hordes of the Unseelie Court. Bittersweet memories that always led him down the same road, to the memory of the execution.

His father had somehow managed to shake off the seduction spells the Queen of Air and Darkness had woven around him. He had snatched his seven-year-old son and fled the Queen’s palace, making for the nearest Faerie circle in hopes of escaping into the mortal world. The endeavor had been doomed from the start.

The Queen’s executions were never quick, never clean. She ruled her Court with terror, and her mortal consort paid a terrible price for his betrayal. And Hunter had been forced to bear witness to the entire ordeal.

His father was bound, naked, to the whipping posts that loomed ever in the palace courtyard, a reminder of the price of displeasing the Queen. Each day for a full week, the Queen ordered her consort flogged. Bane, wielding the whip, had stripped every inch of skin from the poor mortal’s back, while Hunter stood in his mother’s arms, her hand holding his head so that he could not look away. Each night, she used her magic to heal the wounds so that her victim would live to suffer more.

After the seventh flogging, she’d declared it was finally time for Hunter’s father to die. It still wasn’t quick. Bane used a knife, inflicting wound after wound, none serious enough to kill.

In the end, his father had finally escaped the torture by bleeding to death. Afterward, Hunter had his first taste of the whip himself, as a reminder that he, too, was subject to the Queen’s discipline.

Hunter tilted the bottle to his mouth and practically choked himself with a huge gulp. Unlike his father, Hunter was immortal, and if the Queen ever decided to execute him, his body could endure much more terrible tortures.

Ruthlessly, he pulled himself back together. It didn’t matter how much he liked Kiera, and it didn’t matter how bad it made him feel to lie to her. He would do what he had to do because the alternative was too terrible to contemplate.

The doorbell rang, and every nerve in Hunter’s body came alive. This would undoubtedly be Bane, bringing the device that would stop the elevator. Hunter’s heart pounded. He took deep, slow breaths, trying to calm himself. Bane rang again, and Hunter went to the door, aware that his movements had taken on a predatory glide. The knife slipped out of its sheath in his sleeve. The dire need to avenge his father was a palpable force, urging him to fling the door open and drive his knife into the goblin’s throat.

Luckily, some hint of rationality remained, despite the alcohol, and Hunter re-sheathed the knife before he opened the door. He wasn’t able to school his expression, however, and Bane, with his unerring recognition of pain, grinned.

Hunter swallowed hard. “I’m warning you, Bane,” he said in a low growl, “goad me now, and I’ll kill you. The knowledge that I’ll suffer for it won’t give you any satisfaction if you’re dead.”

The goblin’s grin widened. “Thinking about dear old Dad, eh?”

Hunter’s whole body was shaking with the effort to control himself. “I’m not kidding!”

Bane moved with surprising quickness, planting a hand in the center of Hunter’s chest and giving him a mighty shove. Unprepared, Hunter couldn’t keep his balance. He fell hard and scrambled to his feet in time to see Bane slip into the apartment and close the door behind him.

Somehow, the knife seemed to have slipped out of its sheath again, and Hunter brandished it. Bane just shook his head.

“Now is not the time, Boyo,” the goblin said. “Someday, you’n me’ll have it out. But not yet.”

Hunter was sweating as he battled himself. He’d never felt anything like the hot rage that coursed through his blood right now. Always before, his anger had been a slow, controlled burn.

Bane came slowly closer, holding his hands out to his sides, palms open. “You probably shouldn’t drink when you know you’re going to be around me,” he said, his voice maddeningly calm. “Not good for your self-control. Now put the knife away.”

Hunter curled his lip away from his teeth, wishing briefly he had goblin fangs to add to the menace of the expression. The knife was the only thing keeping Bane from striking, and Hunter sure as hell wasn’t giving up his only advantage.

“Remember yesterday?” Bane asked. “You said I wasn’t an idiot. Well, you’re right, I’m not. You’re drunk and out of control. I’m not going to goad you or hurt you when there’s a good chance you’ll kill me for it. So put the knife away—you don’t need it.”

The damned goblin sounded . . .
reasonable
. Hunter drew in a deep breath, trying to dispel some of the coiled tension. His nerves were still vibrating with the need for action, but he forced himself to withdraw the knife.

“Good boy,” Bane said, but he said it lightly enough not to trigger Hunter’s rage. He reached into his bedraggled, filthy coat and pulled out something about the size of a ballpoint pen. “Just press the trigger here,” he said, pointing to a button on the pen-like device, “and the elevator will come to a stop. It’ll kill the lights, too. Make sure you’re between floors when you trigger it, or they’ll be able to pry the doors open.”

Hunter took the device gingerly from Bane’s hand, not wanting to brush against the creature’s filthy skin. He’d have to sterilize the device in alcohol after Bane left.

“Happy hunting, Prince,” Bane said, nodding briefly before heading for the door.

“Bane.” The goblin turned toward him and raised an eyebrow. “What makes you think we’ll ever be able to have it out without the Queen making the winner wish he’d lost?”

The look Bane gave him was strangely thoughtful, and he didn’t answer immediately. Then he shrugged, as if coming to some internal agreement. “I’m a goblin, Boyo. Fate ’n me are like this.” He held up his crossed fingers. “The Queen foretold that you would kill me someday. She may punish you when you do, or you may do it with her blessing, but either way, I know we will have our chance to fight.”

Hunter gaped in surprise. He hadn’t expected a real answer, certainly hadn’t expected
this
answer. “You can’t possibly know that.” Just because the Queen said something didn’t make it true. “And neither does she. She has many powers, but seeing the future isn’t one of them.” Thank the heavens. She was bad enough already!

Bane shook his head. “She doesn’t have to. We are both her creatures, you ’n me. We are hers to command, and if she intends for you to be the instrument of my death, then it’ll happen just that way, whatever we do.” The goblin licked one of his fangs. “I intend to get as many pounds of flesh as possible from you before that day comes.”

“Ever heard of a self-fulfilling prophecy?”

“Ever wonder why you’re the only member of the Unseelie Court who has to have this shit explained to him?”

Bane didn’t wait for an answer, instead slipping out the door and leaving Hunter to shake his head in confusion.

****

Cradling the bag of groceries against her chest, Kiera gave the doorman her usual smile and thanks as she headed toward the elevators. She noticed the sexy bay-leaf-and-sandalwood scent she’d come to associate with Hunter even before she turned the corner and saw him.

He was watching the lights that indicated the progress of the elevators. The light hit his upturned face in a way that highlighted his clean, masculine lines. If Kiera hadn’t known better, she would have sworn he was posing for her.

At the rustle of her grocery bag, he dragged his attention away from the lights and focused on her. The regard of those blue eyes chilled and warmed her simultaneously. Then he smiled, and the chill disappeared.

“Why hello there!” he said. “Here, let me get that for you.”

Before she had a chance to protest, he had taken the grocery bag out of her arms.

“You don’t have to do that,” she said, reaching for the bag.

Hunter turned his body so she couldn’t reach the bag. “Come on, accept a little chivalry. I promise to give it back.”

She shook her head, but she didn’t want to make a scene. “All right, all right.”

The elevator finally arrived. Hunter held the heavy grocery bag easily in one arm and trapped the elevator door open. “Ladies first.”

She stifled a sigh, her insides cringing at the thought of sharing so small a space with him.
Here we go again,
she thought, exasperated with herself. She stepped into the tiny elevator, Hunter right behind her. When the doors slid closed, the elevator suddenly seemed even smaller, as though Hunter took up more than his fair share of the available air and space. She pressed the button for the tenth floor, then pressed nine as well at Hunter’s request.

The elevator groaned piteously, then started to ascend. Hunter was watching the progress of the glowing numbers over the door. Kiera tried to do so as well, but her eyes kept straying. The small space was filled with the scent of his cologne and the even more masculine scent of his leather coat. His lips wore a Mona Lisa smile. He held the grocery bag in one arm, his other hand resting inside his coat pocket. Kiera’s pulse quickened for no reason she could name.

Hunter turned his face away from the numbers, meeting her eyes. His smile became even more enigmatic. He looked like he was about to say something, but suddenly the elevator made another of its dramatic moaning sounds. The moan turned to a whine, then a metallic bang. The elevator lurched to a stop, and the lights went out.

Kiera gasped, grabbing the railing against the elevator’s back wall. The car had gone completely black, and her skin crawled with superstitious terror. She held her breath, waiting for the emergency lighting to come on, but there was nothing. Her nerves told her the darkness hid something feral and dangerous, and she found herself pressed tightly into the corner.

The grocery bag rustled. “Kiera?” Hunter’s voice asked. “Are you all right?”

Her heart was now pounding in earnest, and a nervous sweat bathed her. She’d never been particularly afraid of the dark before, nor was she claustrophobic. The small part of her mind that was still rational wondered why she was reacting so dramatically to the dark, confined space. The rest of her mind just gibbered. She fumbled in her purse, trying to find her cell phone, hoping for some light, but of course the stupid thing was sitting on the charger upstairs.

Hunter’s leather coat creaked as he moved closer, and she fought the image of a predator homing in on her.

“Kiera?” he asked again, his voice the gentle murmur one would use with a frightened animal.

She couldn’t gather enough moisture in her mouth to respond to him. Then, his hand touched her arm and a startled shriek escaped her. She tried to jerk her arm away, but his strong fingers closed around her and held tight.

“Take it easy,” he soothed. “There’s nothing to worry about. I’m sure they’ll get us out of here in no time.”

The scent of him made her dizzy, filling her senses. She drew in a shuddering breath, trying desperately to calm herself. She could feel the heat of his body, standing too close to her. His hand slid up her arm to her shoulder, and she swayed. God, she was going to pass out.

“Sit,” Hunter commanded, pushing down on her shoulder.

Her knees were too weak to hold her up anyway, so she slid her back along the wall of the elevator until her butt hit the floor. She bowed her head and concentrated on breathing. Hunter’s hand slid from her shoulder to her neck, powerful fingers kneading the tight muscles there. The scent of leather and spice enveloped her, and she realized he was sitting on the floor of the elevator with her.

“There’s nothing to be afraid of,” he crooned, his voice almost hypnotic.

Her mind screamed at her that there
was
. And yet her body seemed to have a will of its own. She leaned closer to him, until she felt the heat of him all along her left side. He pressed her closer into the corner, trapping her with his body. His fingers continued to dig into the muscles of her neck and shoulders, loosening the knots with consummate skill.

“Funny, but I never would have pegged you as claustrophobic,” he said. “You seem like you wouldn’t be afraid of anything.”

Somehow, she found her voice again. “I’m not claustrophobic. I’ve never had anything like this happen before.”

“Is it the dark, then?”

Damn him, he sounded amused! She realized with startling certainty that her strange reaction had nothing to do with the close space or the dark: it had to do with
him
. But she could hardly tell him that. She swallowed hard, the panic less now, though her heart still pounded.

“I don’t know,” she lied. “I don’t know what’s the matter with me.” That part, at least, was true. Hunter had made her nervous from the start, but there was no logical explanation for this panicked feeling.

“Here, why don’t we move away from the wall so I can use both hands.”

She realized she was pressing into the hand that massaged her neck. Her cheeks flamed, and she was glad for the darkness that hid it. She shook her head. “It’s all right.”

He sighed in apparent exasperation. “Kiera, you’re so tight you feel like a rubber band about to snap. Let me try to help. There’s no telling how long we’ll be trapped in here. And remember, I do this for a living.”

“Do you have your cell phone with you?” she asked. “Maybe we can call for help.”