Chapter 16 #2
The hounds circled a body on the floor, whining as if they were in physical pain.
It took Sorcha a full minute to recognize Luke. Wearing only a pair of black shorts, he was on the ground in a fetal ball, shaking.
Her heart broke at the sight of him in such pain. “He’s freezing. Grab a blanket, please,” she said to Helly.
Without thinking, she pulled him against her, trying to warm him up.
“It’s okay, Luke. We’re here.”
His teeth chattered so hard that she was surprised they hadn’t shattered.
Helly returned with a comforter and blankets.
Sorcha wrapped them around him and still he shook from the cold. Even his lips were turning blue. “We have to get him warm.” She looked around for anything else.
There was nothing.
Sorcha could only thing of one more thing. “Find his clothes.”
Helly rushed off to look.
Gently, Sorcha rubbed at his stubbled cheeks in an attempt to get blood flowing so that his lips wouldn’t be so blue. When that didn’t work, she pressed her cheek against his, hoping the warmth of her body would help.
Luke buried his hand in her hair.
Pulling back slightly, she saw that his eyes had changed from gold to red.
That fiery gaze held hers enthralled. Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of his agony and hope. It was electric.
Then he pressed his lips against hers.
Sorcha felt a surge of heat at the contact. It was unlike anything she’d ever experienced in her life. Her entire body on fire, she deepened the kiss until she wrung a feral growl from Luke.
This was so unprofessional and yet she couldn’t stop herself. He tasted sweet and intoxicating. Never had anyone kissed her like this.
Like she was the air he needed.
Luke’s head swam as welcomed warmth flowed through him. He had no idea what it was about her kiss, but it drove out every last bit of the cold that had seized him so fiercely, he’d been unable to stand.
“Um … do you still need his coat?”
Luke broke away from the kiss with a laugh at Helly’s question. “Yes!” He grabbed it from her hands and quickly shrugged it on with Sorcha’s help.
“You all right?” Sorcha asked breathlessly.
“Couldn’t be better at the moment.” He was finally warm enough that he could summon his powers to clothe himself.
Which made him even angrier.
Who had told Tanith that cold made him vulnerable? While he could tolerate a fair amount of it, there came a point when he was too cold to access his powers. That wasn’t something many creatures knew about.
Had Sorcha not shown up when she had…
He wasn’t sure what Tanith had planned for him, but he would have been helpless against her.
Now, he was helpless against Sorcha. She’d not only restored his body temperature, she’d fired something inside him that had stayed dormant since he’d been banished.
And awakened something he didn’t recognize. Something he’d never felt before.
That terrified him.
He felt reborn. Stronger than ever.
More lethal.
“Xynzara? Are you all right?” his mother asked as she joined them.
He nodded. “Thanks for the howl and the help.” He looked past her shoulder for anything fey. In the mood he was in, he wanted to start collecting heads. “Where’s the queen?”
“In the portal room. Would you like the honor of tearing out her throat?”
His mother knew him so well.
“Only after I get a few answers.”
Sorcha stepped in front of him. “You’re not really going to kill her, are you?”
Before he could stop himself, he gave her another quick kiss on the lips.
Yeah, there was no mistaking that sensation. Another wave of fire exploded through his veins, warming him to the core of his blackened heart. And he hoped they could explore this a little more in-depth…
After he dealt with Tanith.
Not wanting to stress Sorcha, he winked at her. “As much as I would love to shred her, I won’t. It’d cause too big a schism between factions, and we don’t need that kind of power vacuum. But I have no intention of letting this go without a strong understanding between us.”
And with that, he left them and headed back to where the queen still cowered on the floor, surrounded by more hellhounds.
Go, Mum.
The moment Tanith saw him, she turned as pale as her hair.
She tried to use her powers, but his mother had her trapped. There was nothing the queen could do. She was as helpless as she’d made him.
For that alone, Luke could kiss his mother.
“Not so much fun, is it?” he asked bitterly.
Tanith pressed herself back against the wall. “What are you going to do with me?”
“I would love to add your wings to my collection.” But that would no doubt upset Sorcha and right now, that was the last thing he wanted to do.
Tanith tucked her wings around her body as if that would stop him from taking them if he really wanted to. “I made a fair offer to you!”
Luke was aghast. “Being your concubine isn’t an offer at all.”
Senka’s eyes flared. “You wanted to turn my son into a pet?”
“No! Just a concubine.”
“Which is a fancy word for pet.” Senka approached the queen, then reached for her throat.
Luke caught his mother’s wrist. “Only I get the privilege.”
His mother held up her hands. “Have at it, then. Make her feel my wrath.”
Luke straightened his coat with a tug. “Let’s talk about Elizar…”
Tanith glanced to his mother before she answered. “He’s my servant.”
“Who’s been killing women who bear a striking resemblance to Amandine Dufresne.”
“No. He’s only supposed to capture her and bring her to me. Not kill anyone. He sometimes gets confused.”
Sorcha gasped.
Luke was befuddled by those words. Had she really just said that?
He squatted on the floor beside the queen. “So let me get this straight, if I cut your throat instead of letting you go, your heir won’t say anything because I was confused by my orders?”
“That would be entirely different.”
Not really.
“May I kill her now?” his mother asked.
“I’m tempted.” ’Cause what difference would it make according to fairy logic? Killing and letting go were apparently the same thing.
Luke let out a disgusted sigh. “Why are you trying to capture Amandine and, more to the point, why were you framing me for the crimes?”
Genuine shock went across her face. There was no mistaking that. She had no idea he’d been framed for the murders.
Interesting.
He leaned forward on his haunches. “I see we have a problem here. How ’bout you send for ole Elizar and let me have a little chat with him.”
Tanith nodded slowly before Luke offered his hand to her so that he could pull her up from the floor.
It was strange how quickly she recovered her regal bearing to stare up her nose at him. Especially given the fact that she’d been on the verge of making him her bedroom pet. He was still pissed off about that.
Even in Hell, he’d had more decency than that. He’d never forced anyone into his bed. But then, it’d been Hell. All he had to do was ask if the objects of his attraction wanted to go someplace where they weren’t being tortured and they quickly acquiesced.
A large number of them had even offered themselves before he had a chance to ask.
Still, they’d all had a choice. He’d never kept anyone against their will, and he would die before he forced himself on anyone else. As demonic as he was, there were some atrocities and violations he would never commit.
“What are you going to do to me?” Tanith asked.
“I haven’t decided yet. Depends on what your Ankou has to say.” He should probably alleviate her fears, but the part of him that belonged to his father wanted to prolong her fears. Especially given what she’d done to him.
It was bad enough he hated the cold. But she’d tried to take away his autonomy. To control him, and that was where his hellhound genes took over.
He was no one’s bitch. No one would ever have sovereignty over him.
Not even his father.
Tanith quickened her steps as they neared a room at the end of the hallway. She opened a door on the left, then started to leave.
Luke caught her arm and smiled coldly at her. “I thought you wanted my company, Majesty. Why are you trying to leave so quickly?”
“I’ve business to attend.”
“But our business is so much more pressing. Please”—he indicated the room with his hand—“introduce me.”
She glanced over his shoulder to where Sorcha and Helly stood before she entered the room with all the regal grace she could muster. Luke was impressed at how quickly she’d regained her composure.
No doubt she didn’t want her Ankou to see her begging and weak. That would never go over well.
Clearing her throat, she moved to her throne and took a seat as if she didn’t have a care in the world.
“I summon you, Elizar.”
Almost immediately, the hooded figure appeared and bowed to his queen.
It was said that Ankou were created whenever a fey creature became disfigured or was born with any malady.
To keep them from being run off by others of their kind, they were given the ability for glamour, and to shapeshift into a non-repellent form.
Yet that wasn’t enough. According to legend, their jealousy was such that it blackened their hearts. Made them so angry at the “regular” fey that over time it caused them to become even more malformed and twisted.
Once that happened, the Ankou spirit took over, and they were only good for collecting the souls of the fallen fey and escorting them to the Eternal Summerlands.
Unlike Hell, it was supposed to be a wonderful eternity. The fey didn’t have a place of punishment. Turning into an Ankou was their only version of Hell.
To be honest, he’d much prefer theirs to his.
Although now that he was looking at the twisted, hideous creature that appeared to be in extreme pain…
Maybe Hell wasn’t so bad.
“My queen,” Elizar breathed. “What may I do for you?”
She gestured toward Luke.
The moment he turned and saw Luke behind him, he held up his arm to shield himself, screamed and shrank toward the gilded throne.
Appropriate response given Luke’s mood.
“Save me, Majesty.”