Chapter 21
21
The massive creature crashes into me out of nowhere, all rippling muscle and gleaming fur. I hit the carpet hard, the breath punched clean from my lungs. Broken glass slices my palms as I’m dragged several feet. My shoulder smacks into Gavin’s heavy wooden desk, and stars burst across my vision.
There’s a damned cu? si?th on top of me. Its fur ripples between violet, emerald, and crimson, but those burning eyes never change—bright red and fixed on me. Seventeen stone of fae muscle pinning me flat. I can’t even budge under the crushing weight.
I stay very still as it sniffs me over, hot breath tickling my neck.
“Good boy,” I say, trying to keep my voice from trembling. I can hear the wild thrum of my pulse in my ears. “Shouldn’t you be at the gates of the Fade? I thought all good puppies stayed home. Is Alastair with you?”
The cu? si?th snarls, baring rows of gleaming fangs longer than my fingers.
The crushing pressure makes it hard to draw breath, but I manage to rasp, “Kiaran won’t be happy you’re running loose, you know. Didn’t anyone teach you to behave?”
At the mention of Kiaran’s name, the cu? si?th’s eyes narrow, fangs parting wider. Apparently he doesn’t give a damn about Kiaran or anything else.
I drop the cajoling. “Go back to the Fade. Now .”
I’ve fought enough fae to recognise the hungry focus in those burning crimson eyes. The cu? si?th is seconds from ripping my throat out. I brace myself, ready to make a desperate attempt with my daggers—though the odds of taking down a fae hound unscathed seem low. I’m weighing up whether trying to gouge its eyes might buy me time to—
Something huge smashes into the cu? si?th, knocking it off me. Gavin. Wonderful, bloody idiot. I suck in a deep breath, my ribs creaking in protest as the crushing weight lifts. The cu? si?th rolls on the carpet with a heavy thud, shakes its great shaggy head, and regains its feet with a low growl.
Gavin is staggering upright, the glass crunching under his shoes. He braces one hand against the bookcase to steady himself. Blood trickles from a cut at his hairline.
“Get behind me and get to the door,” Gavin says, wiping the blood from his eyes. “We can trap it in here.”
I’m already pushing upright, my skirts tangled around my legs. I’ll never make it to the door at this rate.
“These are the guardians of the Fade, not actual dogs. And it’s not listening to orders. It’ll break down the door and I doubt you want the shredded corpses of aristocrats littering the ballroom. Let me deal with it.” My fingers find the hilt of my dagger.
The cu? si?th turns toward Gavin with a snarl, lips peeled back to show those gleaming teeth. It definitely knows he’s a Seer. The creature tenses, ready to pounce on this new target.
I’m closer. I throw myself sideways, colliding with the hound mid-air right before it can sink its fangs into Gavin. We go down hard, smashing into the settee on the other side of the study. Wood groans and cracks beneath the impact as we roll over the side and hit the floor again in a tangle of claws and crushed velvet.
I shove aside all those damned petticoats until I find the dagger strapped to my thigh. My fingers close around the hilt just as the cu? si?th lunges for me, jaws wide, ready to tear my face off. I slam my blade up and into its chest. Hilt deep, praying I pierced its heart. But instead there’s a metallic crack, and the tip snaps clean off, leaving the broken shard embedded in its chest.
Well, shite.
The cu? si?th rears up with an ear-piercing howl that resonates through every inch of me. The sound pierces straight to my bones, reverberating inside my skull. I clamp my hands over my ears, but it does nothing to block the din. The crystal decanter on Gavin’s desk, the tumblers and remaining windows shatter all around us.
My knees give out, and I sink down, broken glass cutting into my legs. Just when I think my skull might crack open from the pressure, the noise dies off.
In that second, the fae is on me again. I throw myself sideways, but I’m too slow. Razor claws catch the back of my gown and slice my skin. Fiery pain whites out my vision for an instant. I slam into the edge of the desk, and my ribs creak. I manage to scramble to my feet, crouched low and breathing hard. My shredded back feels like it’s on fire, blood trickling hot down my skin.
“Gavin!” I call out. My voice rings oddly, muffled after the auditory assault. He took shelter behind the fallen bookcase once the cu? si?th started its deafening howl. “Are you alive back there?”
“Barely!” His voice sounds muted, like he’s speaking from the far end of a tunnel. No doubt his ears took a beating too. “I’m bleeding from my ears, have the world’s worst headache, and there’s a murderous fae in my study. I blame you.”
“That’s fair,” I say.
I slide my remaining dagger from its sheath, flexing my fingers around the grip. The familiar weight steadies me, focusing my mind.
Then I launch myself at the cu? si?th. This time, we go careening into what remains of the settee in a tangle of claws and silk. It collapses the rest of the way with a protesting groan as the splintered wooden legs give out.
Before the cu? si?th can react, I’m on its back, my thighs clamped around its torso. My hands shake as I try to keep hold of my weapon. My fingers find purchase around the hilt as the cu? si?th twists, fangs snapping for my wrist.
I slam the blade down through thick fur and muscle. It lets out a pained yelp, body jerking. I rip the dagger free and plunge it in a again, aiming for the heart this time. My bruised ribs ease just enough for me to suck in a thin breath. I force my leaden limbs to cooperate, dragging myself up. Broken glass crunches beneath me.
I meet the cu? si?th’s now-lifeless crimson eyes. Its massive body sprawls on the splintered wreckage of the settee, dark blood spreading across the shredded upholstery. My ears are still ringing from its deafening howls. I suck in a few deep breaths, willing my hands to stop shaking. The coppery tang of blood hangs heavy in the air.
Gavin is next to me a heartbeat later, hands gripping my shoulders as his worried gaze rakes over me. I try not to wince. The movement makes the gashes across my back burn.
“Are you hurt?” he demands.
I do a mental inventory, wincing. Nothing fatal. Assuming my ribs aren’t cracked, that is. Breathing is still proving a challenge.
“I’ll live,” I rasp. Already my injuries are knitting themselves back together—thank god for Falconer healing. “Believe it or not, I’ve had worse.”
I shift my weight carefully onto my shaky limbs to test my mobility. Sharp pain shoots through my side at the movement, stealing my breath. Ah, so no sudden movements. Duly noted.
“Bloody hell.” Gavin presses a hand over his eyes and draws in an unsteady breath. “Give me a moment. I’m still processing that you apparently do this regularly enough to be nonchalant about it.”
“In my defence, I wasn’t planning on life-or-death combat when I dressed earlier,” I offer. “A quiet evening to gossip over champagne was more what I’d pictured.”
Gavin’s gaze sweeps the demolished study again, taking in the full extent of the damage. Shattered glass and debris carpet the floor alongside splintered wood and ribbons of torn upholstery. The heavy mahogany desk is miraculously still intact, though it will require some restoration work.
“You had two knives strapped under that ballgown,” Gavin says tightly. “So you’ll have to forgive me if I find your claims of wanting a peaceful night rather difficult to believe.”
I wince again at the accusation in his tone. I admit the arsenal strapped to my limbs doesn’t exactly scream “unarmed and unaware”.
“Ah yes, the knives,” I sigh. No sense denying it now. “Old habits die hard, I suppose. After one has survived enough attacks, leaving the house well armed just feels prudent.”
As if to emphasise the point, I clean my weapon and slide it back into its sheath.
Gavin drags a hand down his face. “I’ve no idea how I’m going to explain this to the staff.”
“Just tell them you decided to redecorate on a whim,” I suggest brightly. “Spruced things up a bit, changed the ambiance.”
Gavin shoots me a dark look. “Yes, I’m sure they’ll find it perfectly reasonable that I spontaneously chose to demolish the furnishings and gouge massive claw marks into the fine wood panelling. Because that sounds like something I’d do.”
I nudge the body with the toe of my slipper, lips pursed thoughtfully. “Well, at least they won’t actually see the giant corpse lying here. That’s one less hurdle to overcome.”
“I can’t say I’ve tested whether non-Seers can smell an unseen, rotting corpse. Frankly, I think the entire study will have to be razed and rebuilt from the foundation up to remove all traces of this incident.”
I school my expression, trying and failing to look properly contrite. “Well, this certainly took an eventful turn. I don’t know how the blasted creature even got here. The cu? si?th usually stay in the Fade where they belong.”
“Yes, about that.” Gavin leans back against the desk, arms crossed over his chest as he fixes me with an expectant look. “I believe I’m still owed an explanation. For instance, why exactly are you familiar with these fae hounds?”
I open my mouth, then hesitate, grasping for the right words. Where does one even begin?
“I think I’m owed an honest account after surviving this ordeal, don’t you?” His blue eyes are intent on my face. “Because I’m finding it rather difficult to reconcile the marchioness I thought I knew with...all of this.” His wave encompasses the wreckage, weapons, and my shredded, blood-stained gown.
“Well, I do have a reputation as something of a mad recluse who keeps odd hours. How do you think I got it?”
He tips his head up and shuts his eyes. “Christ. It really is all making sense now.”
Before I can begin to find the words to explain further, a bone-deep chill sweeps through the room, raising the fine hairs at my nape. I’d recognise that whisper-soft brush of power anywhere.
Kiaran.
I lurch for the doorway, broken glass crunching under my slippers.
Gavin pushes off from the desk, trailing after me with a bewildered look. “What’s the matter?”
“I have some urgent business.” I’m already moving down the hall toward the door.
The cold night air hits my skin, and I have to suppress a shiver that has nothing to do with the temperature as Kiaran materialises from the darkness edging the garden. Faint light from the manor’s windows gilds the sharp angles of his face.
He takes in my torn and bloodied state with an inscrutable look. “Trouble with one of my hounds, I take it?”
“An understatement.” I try adjusting my tattered skirts to regain some semblance of modesty. The fine silk is in ribbons. “Did my pixie come to fetch you? That menace better have made himself useful for once.”
His gaze flicks dismissively over Gavin before returning to me. “Yes. Through his inane babbling, I heard something about my hounds, and I sensed about two dozen others nearby. Come with me,” he says. “We need to deal with this.”
I turn to look at Gavin, who crosses his arms. “My explanation?” he says. “Tomorrow.”
I give him a brief nod. “Keep everyone inside for now. We’ll handle this.”
And I hurry off into the night by Kiaran’s side.