Filthy Rich Fae

Chapter Thirty-Six

I stared at MacAlister’s oily smile as he slithered into the room, my brain trying to process what my racing pulse already had. He paused in front of the door to block the only exit. I reached for my pendant, muttering a curse when my fingers found bare skin. I had no way to call Lach.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” I demanded, my voice catching slightly.

He let out a low whistle as he peered around the room. “These are his private quarters, aren’t they? You have dug your claws into him.” MacAlister flicked his nails. “I’m impressed. I never thought I’d live to see Lachlan be fool enough to let a woman distract him. I thought he was heartless, and then he showed up reeking of you. He overplayed his hand. He exposed his heart.”

My own heart hammered in response, my chest constricting around it like a vice, but I planted my feet.

“Leave,” I commanded.

“Perhaps his little show earlier gave you the wrong impression.” Disgust curled his lip, and he bared his teeth with a rabid snap. “You are not in control. You have no power here. But you do have one use.”

A thin sheen of sweat broke over my forehead as my mind began to race. But I did have power. I had control. And I wasn’t going to let an asshole like MacAlister take it from me. “What do you want? Let’s make a bargain.”

I would find a way out of it. The Infernal Court penumbra wasn’t nearly as clever as he pretended to be. No, he was cruel, and cruelty was a fragile thing. I could break him.

But he shook his head. “I already have a bargain of my own to fulfill,” he explained. “I made a promise to bring Lach to his knees, to prove I could be his penumbra.”

My locked legs rooted to the spot, my stomach seizing as he stalked a couple of steps closer. I shook my head slightly to clear it. I fumbled for something to say to keep him talking. “You want to be Lach’s penumbra?”

MacAlister rolled his eyes. “What good would that do me?” He was speaking in riddles, but each prowling step he took betrayed his intentions. I forced myself to back away as he advanced on me. “I’ve lived long enough in the shadows. I just want to be free. We all do, even your friend Roark.”

“Roark is free.” My hands fisted at my sides as I swept the room, looking for a way out, for a distraction. I’d never get through the window. I had to get past him and out the door, find the wraiths, find anyone.

“No one is free in these splintered courts.” The bitterness in his voice chilled my blood. “We are all imprisoned by broken magic. Even your precious Nether Prince. I’m really doing him a favor.”

“Doing him a favor?” My laugh dripped venom. I raised my chin, meeting his poisoned glare with my own. I edged along the wall, toward the large window instead of the door, knowing there was no way I would get past him. Very carefully, I kicked off my heels. I’d never make it in those. “I doubt he’ll see it that way when I tell him how you tormented me. Who do you think you are?”

“I am the one who breaks him,” he hissed. “I am the one who will carve his heart out from your chest.”

A lost future flashed before my eyes at his words. My thumb fumbled over my ring as I realized he was going to kill me.

I was a survivor.

He pounced, but I was faster. I threw myself behind a velvet chair, my knees hitting the wood floor with a crack, the fabric of my skirt splitting several inches. Pain shot through my legs, but I ignored it as adrenaline pumped through my body. I wouldn’t die at the hands of a maggot like MacAlister. I reached down and ripped my skirt to my upper thigh. Lurching to my feet, I aimed for the door. I’d made it halfway when he caught me by the hair, wrenching me backward and into a shelf. Books tumbled around me, the shelf teetering from the impact. I threw myself as far away as I could as it crashed down.

“You’re making a mess,” MacAlister complained, prowling toward me. “Just do what humans are good at: die.”

“Go to hell!” I hissed.

“You first.” He pitched forward, diving to catch my foot.

I kicked at him, but his sharp nails dug into my ankle. I reached for another book, but my fingers came up empty. MacAlister laughed, using my leg to yank me closer. “Do you put up this much of a fight when Lach screws you? Or am I just lucky?” With his free hand, he reached inside his jacket and drew a pistol. “I can’t decide if I want to choke you to death with my own hands or just shoot you and get it over with.”

It didn’t matter that I wasn’t fae; those bullets at close range were just as deadly for a human.

“I bet those redcaps loved you,” he sneered. “He knew you would be a problem, but I kept telling him that penumbras solve problems. And honestly, he won’t be able to disagree after today.”

I ignored his babbling as I grappled, straining toward a volume of Shakespeare’s collected plays. My fingers brushed its edge. “Yes, you deserve a fucking raise.” I finally got a corner of the book and launched it at him, clipping his shoulder.

MacAlister snarled, lifting the gun. “Decision made.” He released my ankle. “I’ll give you a running start. Might I suggest how poetic it would be to die in his bed? Devastating.” He cocked the hammer as something clicked for me. “On the count of five.” He held up a finger with his free hand. “One.”

I was already on my feet. I didn’t let myself think. I just acted.

“Two.”

I bounded two steps, reaching the edge of his bed.

“Three,” he crooned, on his feet now. “And truly, a romantic choice.”

I dove, my arms stretching until they burned toward the headboard.

“Four.”

My fingers slid under the pillow, brushing the cold barrel of a 9-millimeter.

“Five.” His shadow fell over the bed. “Would you mind turning over? I think it will be more impactful if he can see your face.”

Safety off. I flicked it with my thumb as I flipped over, swinging my arms over my head. MacAlister tilted his head, blinking rapidly as I aimed.

Just pull the trigger.

And I did.

The recoil shook my arms, but I got off two more shots. MacAlister stumbled back a step, his gun clattering to the floor as crimson seeped across his white Oxford shirt. His head fell forward, stunned, for a moment before his legs gave out. He crashed to the ground, eyes lifting to stare at me. His mouth opened, a bloody gurgle foaming on his lips instead of words.

Horror spilled through me, making my hands tremble so hard I nearly dropped the pistol. I tamped down the next one, refusing to let my mind process what I’d just done. It was like the hospital. Life or death. Use the adrenaline. I slid from the bed, holding the gun in front of me as I approached him slowly. MacAlister stared at me, a smile twitching on his mouth.

I kicked his weapon across the room before crumbling to my knees, Lach’s gun stretched between us.

MacAlister wheezed a laugh, reading my face. “You…still…die.”

He was right. I knew what these bullets could do, and with that amount of blood, I knew I’d hit something vital. I had killed a penumbra. Not even Lach could save me.

“No one is dying,” I muttered. MacAlister’s eyes widened as I dropped the gun behind me, out of his reach, and crawled closer to him. Ripping open his shirt, I discovered an entry wound in his upper abdomen. The bullet had likely hit an organ and, judging from the amount of blood, multiple arteries. I choked down a sob of fear as I pressed my palms to the wound.

“Where’s your phone?” I asked through clenched teeth.

He answered with another bloody laugh. “Too late. For both of us.”

I leaned to wipe my sweaty brow on my forearm. MacAlister seized under my hands, his limbs jerking as his body went into shock. Minutes. I had minutes.

“Help,” I whispered, but there was no one to hear me. He was going to die, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. A moan rose in the room, keening and hollow as if the wraiths were calling to the Wild Hunt themselves. I dropped back, wiping my bloody hands on my torn skirt before struggling to my feet. I’d barely managed it when Lach appeared.

“How?” I choked.

But he didn’t answer. Another moan did. The wraiths. They’d been watching out for me, as he’d promised.

Shadows rippled in Lach’s eyes as his gaze swept to MacAlister, face tightening as he reached the same conclusion I had. A heartbeat later, the weight of what I’d done collapsed on me. I stumbled a step, and he caught me. He pressed a single kiss to my forehead before steadying me by the shoulders.

His eyes sought mine, forcing me to focus on him. “He’s dying. I’m so sorry about that.”

I nearly crumbled at the reminder, but he held me upright.

He closed his eyes and drew a shuddering breath. When he opened them, they were cold and calculating. The prince of the Nether Court stared back at me. Lachlan Gage. The monster I once hated.

“We don’t have much time.” Another searching glance. “When he dies, his signet will mark his killer and summon the Wild Hunt. I can’t stop that now. Bain doesn’t know; MacAlister must have blocked him before he came after you, or he would already be here.”

Tremors racked me, but Lach’s hands remained steady on my shoulders. I stared into his eyes without seeing him. I wanted to tell him that Bain had sent him. That MacAlister had said as much. But my voice refused to work.

Shock. I was in shock. And that wouldn’t help either of us. I forced a nod.

“Bain will come after you when he discovers what’s happened. I’ll stall him as long as I can, but you need to get out of New Orleans.” He glued his eyes to mine until I nodded. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a key fob. I stared at it. He didn’t have a choice. I’d compromised the court. If I stayed, I would put all of them at risk, and he knew it. Behind us, MacAlister rasped. “Shit. We don’t have much time. There’s a phone and money in the glove box.”

Would he be punished for this, too? What would happen to the court? To his family—to my friends? To him? My lips wobbled, but I made them move. “Lach, please—”

“There’s a phone in the glove box,” he repeated, silencing me. “Plug it in and start driving. Get the fuck out of New Orleans. After today, do not step foot in fae territory. Ditch your old phone on the way out of town. Leave it there. And as soon as you’re away, call the only number in the new phone. They’ll know what to do. I can’t risk coming with you now or using my magic to get you farther than that.” He shook my shoulders. “Do you understand?”

I managed to nod, but he had to know that it didn’t matter. The world spun around me, but I focused on his instructions. I would leave. I would keep trouble from the Nether Court, from him, from my home. That’s what this place would always be to me—what he would always be to me—and I would protect both at all costs.

“Destroy the new phone as soon as you make that call.” MacAlister was seizing again. I couldn’t breathe. I wasn’t ready to let go yet. I just needed a few more minutes. I would bargain with the devil himself for more time. I fought to inhale as the full weight of what I’d done pressed down on me. Lach gripped my chin. “This is the most important thing. Do not take off that ring, Cate.”

“What?” The question tumbled out of me. He grabbed my hand, brushing his thumb over the emerald. “I don’t understand.”

“Neither did I. But—” MacAlister rattled, and I clapped a hand over my mouth to smother a sob. “It’s what I wanted.” He continued, panic edging into his voice. “Swear that you will never take it off and that you will never give it to me.”

I stared at him. How could he be worried about something so insignificant while the world ended around us? I opened my mouth to ask him, to beg him to stop trying to save me and just be with me in these final, stolen moments.

Lach shook me. “Fucking swear it.”

“I’ll never give it to you,” I choked out. Tears spilled down my cheeks, and then something tingled on the back of my neck—hooking and digging before fading to nothing. My eyes flew open, a sudden coldness flooding through me as I recognized that sensation. “No.”

My fingers flew to the spot as if I could stop it, but it was too late. Somehow, I knew not a trace of the bargain remained. “I don’t understand. How—”

“It doesn’t matter. You’re free. I should have done it sooner. I should have done a lot of things sooner.” His hand wrapped around the one still holding the back of my neck, and he dragged me closer. MacAlister let out another wet, gurgling breath, and my questions faded as I realized time was slipping away.

“We didn’t have enough time,” I whispered, tears blurring his face. I blinked, desperate to memorize it.

I could see the tears shimmering in his green eyes as he pressed his forehead to mine. “There would never have been enough time with you.” His mouth found mine, salt mingled with longing and regret, with what might have been and never would be. The kiss tasted like goodbye. When Lach finally broke it, he paused for one final look into my eyes. “You need to go now.”

He released me, the sadness of his smile shredding the final pieces of my heart. He turned, and I waited to be swept away, but instead he took a single step, pausing to watch MacAlister fighting for his final breaths.

Seconds. We had seconds.

There was so much I needed to say to him.

“My nights still belong to you,” I blurted out. That would always be true, bargain or no. No matter how many I had left. I swallowed. “I belong to you.”

His eyes closed for a second, momentarily shutting out the man dying at his feet. He reached into his jacket, the fingers of his other hand twitching like he couldn’t quite stomach sending me away. The smirk he flashed didn’t reach his eyes. “Always have. Always will, princess.”

His words pierced me as he pulled a gun from his holster. I blinked as he lifted it, realizing a moment too late what was happening. His fingers snapped, but I lunged as he pulled the trigger, the world sweeping away beneath me as Lach shot MacAlister in the head—taking the kill shot.