Chapter 2
CHAPTER 2
O nce the female fae had vanished from sight, Rafe spun around and loped back into the valley. There was no time to spare.
Earlier that night, he’d left a knapsack of clothes and supplies at the foot of an ancient tree, right where several deer paths crossed. He reached it in a matter of minutes. It took him slightly longer to change back to human form, dress, and text for backup.
Possible location. Concealment spell. Bring supplies.
He’d barely finished strapping on his weapons when a rush of air stirred the branches. With quicksilver reflexes, Rafe snatched his pistol from its holster, sighting on the fluttering leaves. A moment later, a woman stepped from the trees. Despite legend, vampires didn’t turn into bats or crows, but Izetta still moved like the wind.
Rafe relaxed, putting away his weapon. “Sorry. I’m not taking any chances.”
“You saw the fae?” she asked, not bothering with small talk.
He’d never quite placed her accent. It was Mediterranean—maybe Spanish—with a generous helping of old South. Her low voice was like the purr of a big cat—relaxed and lazy until the teeth came out.
“I followed another fae up the side of the valley,” Rafe replied. “There’s a glamour hiding an enormous modern mansion. That has to be the fae headquarters.”
“Or not. Their headquarters would be inaccessible by mere mortals. That sounds like a way station.”
“A what?”
“It’s like a fae hotel. I thought I knew them all, but apparently this one is off the radar. They use them as staging points for a long journey.”
Izetta stood with her weight on one hip, arms folded. She was dressed in black jeans and a leather jacket, a cloud of curling dark hair framing her face. Despite her youthful appearance, Rafe knew she had more battle experience than he would ever see.
“Journey to where?” Rafe asked.
Izetta gave a small shrug. “I’ve heard rumors the Forest King is moving his court. I don’t know why and don’t really care. This, though, is different.”
She pulled out her phone. “A contact sent me this. It’s from a security camera at the Widow’s Walk.” She handed him the device.
A video was cued to play on the screen. Rafe tapped it and watched as the inside of a club came into view. It was good quality for surveillance video, although as usual there was no sound. The camera was aimed at the bar, but he could see part of the dance floor on the right.
“What am I looking for?” he asked.
“The end of the bar. Wait.”
A tall figure in a loose tunic and tight pants climbed onto one of the tall stools. He lounged against the bar with his back to the camera, managing never to show his face. All Rafe could see was a thick fall of pale hair held back with a fancy clip.
“Definitely a fae,” he said .
“I know, right?” Izetta said. “I think half their body weight is leave-in conditioner.”
A second later, two more figures, both female, came into the frame. Rafe zoomed in as the smaller of the two leaned in to kiss the fae with enthusiasm and a good deal of tongue. A long necklace of freshwater pearls swung as she moved. “I know her. She’s one of yours.”
“Malatest’s girl. Her name is Sadie.” Malatest was one of the major players among the Undead. “She’s a few nails short of a coffin, if you know what I mean.”
It was then he caught sight of the second female. A werecat who’d turned up dead a week ago. “That’s one of the Magician’s victims.”
“The last known sighting of her. By all indications, we’re looking at footage of the Magician himself.”
“Damn.” Rafe scrolled back and watched the whole thing again, confirming that the Magician never showed his face. “What does he do to them?”
Izetta shook her head. “I don’t know.”
“But this is good.” Rafe handed her phone back. “This is as close as we’ve got to him.”
“Unless he’s inside your invisible mansion.”
“Let’s find out.” Rafe started toward the path.
“Not so fast.” Izetta unzipped one of her jacket’s many pockets and extracted a blue glass jar. “Faery ointment. It has to touch your eyeballs, even if it stings. Very traditional.”
In his haste, Rafe had forgotten that he’d asked her to bring a charm against the glamour spell. “Who made this?”
“Madam Corbeau. I shop at New Broom Metaphysical Supplies in West Harbor.”
“That’s a bit out of your way.”
Her smile showed fang. “It’s a specialty item. When it comes to fae, it pays to get the best protection.”
He took the jar from her hand. When he unscrewed the lid, his nose wrinkled at the medicinal scent. The green paste inside was half-gone and crusty around the edges.
“It’s still fresh,” she said, as if sensing his hesitation. “I keep a ready supply for work.”
That made sense. Izetta was a busy freelancer. One vampire king or another hired her to be his blade in the dark when diplomacy became inconvenient.
Rafe cast her a curious look. “Are you hunting fae that often?”
“Dark fae play dirty.” She gave an impatient flick of her hand. “Are you going to stare at the ointment or use it?”
Reluctantly, he dipped a finger into the jar. Years ago, he’d worn contact lenses as part of a disguise. He’d hated touching his eyes then, and he didn’t like it now. Bracing himself, he smeared the paste above his lower lids before he could change his mind. Instantly, his eyes stung as if he’d rubbed them with acid. Tears blinded him. “Fido’s balls!”
Izetta plucked the jar from his hand. “Don’t rub. That will only make it worse.”
Rafe blinked furiously. His vision was gradually clearing, but the heat had spread into his sinuses. He sneezed, then sneezed again. It felt like his entire skull was on fire.
But the damned stuff worked. Now he could see the mansion’s roofline at the top of the rise, black against the stars. The ointment apparently worked on other senses, too. He could smell fae, including the female he’d seen earlier. Anticipation shivered over his skin.
“This way,” he said, setting off toward their quarry.
Izetta followed, quiet as a phantom as they ascended the side of the valley, following the same path he’d taken before. This time, though, he could see his destination and choose the best approach. The terraced yard had a pool and hot tub that overlooked a moonlit lake and rolling hills. Everything said elegance and hard cash.
“Who says crime doesn’t pay?” he muttered under his breath .
“We’ll see about that.” Izetta replied, her soft drawl deceptively sweet. “What does your doggy nose tell you?”
“The scents are all new,” Rafe replied. “It’s as if the construction crew just left.”
“Residents?”
“Fae passed through the garden. Hard to tell how many.” He sniffed again. “Not much foot traffic in the last day or so.”
She gave a slow nod. “Almost as if they’re expecting trouble.”
Rafe swore under his breath. Whoever had built the mansion had chosen the location well. To the north, the woods were so dense a squirrel would need a machete. The west side faced onto the lake. The east lawn led to a sheer drop. That left the southern approach Rafe and Izetta had taken from the valley. The place was easy to defend.
Rafe glanced over his shoulder. The winding path they had climbed to get near the building was too narrow for most vehicles. “How the hell did they get equipment up here to build?”
“Magic? It’s way easier than getting contractors to arrive on time.”
Rafe didn’t comment. Instead, he crept forward, the cold air seeping in through his open jacket. He approached the south wall of the house, pausing at the edge of the trees. There was a faint light—a candle, maybe—moving in one of the upstairs windows. A place like this was sure to have electricity, so someone was avoiding company.
A second later, Izetta joined him. “What now?”
“We get closer.”
Keeping to the deepest shadows, they crossed the lawn. Rafe reached the house first and crouched beneath the low sill of an oversized window. Izetta knelt beside him.
Had they been seen? He counted to ten, listening for footfalls or the whisper of a weapon leaving its holster. When nothing came, he raised himself enough to peer through the gap beneath the lowered window blind. It was dark inside, but shifters had excellent night vision.
The decor was completely white. Clearly, no one here ate pizza without a napkin.
“Fae,” he whispered with a sneer. For a moment he regretted not bringing some tech toys—long-distance listening equipment, for a start—but then dismissed the notion. Magic raised merry hell with technology. “There’s got to be a way in.”
Rafe skirted to the right, the vampire on his heels. As they passed the next window, Rafe glanced inside. The room looked perfectly ordinary, if expensive and maniacally clean. White marble tile added to the Arctic color scheme. Across the room, a stainless-steel sink and backsplash glimmered in the ambient moonlight.
Rafe stopped, pulled out his pocketknife, and wiggled it into the space between the window sill and sash.
“What about a security system?” Izetta asked blandly.
“You have a better idea?”
“I dunno,” Izetta countered. “You just set the bar pretty low.”
Rafe ignored her. The prey was inside, and his pack needed this villain to die. It was the one thing his father wanted that Rafe could deliver.
After a long minute of cursing, he pried the sash up until the slider lock cleared its hole. He then pushed the window open with barely a sound.
“Fortune favors the bold.” Rafe crawled inside, his boots landing softly on the tile floor.
Izetta followed. By the ancient rules of magic, vampires needed an invitation to enter a home—but not here. Clearly, this wasn’t a private residence, which made the occupants fair game for the Undead.
They stood together for a long moment, listening for the mansion’s unseen inhabitants. The only sound was the whisper of the forest outside, the only motion the flutter of curtains beside the open window.
The breeze carried more than the scent of grass and trees. Rafe spun, instinctively ducking out of sight. Izetta gave a faint, startled hiss.
“Company,” he murmured. “Outside.”
He rose from his crouched position until he could glimpse two fae warriors in high-collared jackets and tall boots. A uniform, but he didn’t recognize it.
Izetta darted to a position beside the window, peering around the frame so that she could see out without being seen. “Light fae. They belong to the Royal Guard.”
That didn’t mean a lot to Rafe. The fae had more kings and queens than a poker tournament. “What do they want?”
The leader held up a fist, and his companion stopped. Then, with a whisper of steel, they drew heavy broadswords from sheaths at their back.
The vampire made a soft noise that wasn’t quite a laugh. “I don’t think they’re here to borrow the lawnmower.”
The leader pointed his blade toward something Rafe couldn’t see. Glass shattered. A moment later, he heard a door crash open with a squeal of splintering wood.
The tromp of booted feet echoed below. The intruders—military, by the way they marched—were making no effort to be quiet. Lila’s stomach knotted with panic. Ademar glared toward the door and the stairway beyond. White-faced, he visibly gathered his strength.
“He knew this would happen,” he murmured under his breath. “He should have been here by now.”
“Who? Farras?” Lila grabbed her brother’s arm, argument forgotten. “What’s happening? ”
It wasn’t hard to jump to conclusions. The lord had asked Ademar to wait there and then failed to show up. He’d been expecting trouble.
As if reading her thoughts, Ademar’s gaze met hers for the barest second before pulling away. “These will be Captain Teegar’s men, maybe Teegar himself. According to Lord Farras, he plots against the king.”
Her breath caught in a hiccup of surprise. Teegar was an officer in the Royal Guard and had a stellar reputation for loyalty. “That’s impossible.”
“Are you sure?” he replied with a humorless smile. “Those aren’t mice downstairs.”
“Why are they here?”
“Lord Farras knows Teegar’s plans. I imagine Teegar is here to kill him. Or me, since I’m available.”
She blinked. “Is that why you’re sitting here in the dark? You’re hiding from the Royal Guard?”
“Not any longer. Evidently, hiding didn’t work.”
“But—”
He waved her words away. “Save your breath until we’ve greeted our guests. Then ask your questions.”
Lila swallowed hard. If the Royal Guard had come with murder in mind, Ademar was in serious trouble. It was no secret he was loyal to Lord Farras—and yet, none of this made sense. Her brother could be difficult, but he wasn’t worth killing. He just wasn’t that important.
“What do you plan to do?” She adjusted her grip on her gun as they inched toward the door to the hallway.
He bared his teeth in a mocking grin. “Show Captain Teegar that he is not the only warrior worthy of respect.”
Lila’s stomach flipped. “Fighting isn’t a real plan. Not against the guard.”
“I’m not about to surrender.” Ademar’s jaw hardened as he picked up speed .
Still gripping his arm, Lila stumbled, let go, then fell in behind him. As soon as they were through the door, Lila moved to cover her brother’s right side.
“This will be dangerous,” he said. “You don’t need to come with me.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she snapped back.
His smile was brief but grateful. They drifted silently down the staircase, Lila half a step behind Ademar.She pulled out her phone, thinking she’d send Sala a text just in case something went wrong. But, as in so many fae-occupied buildings, there wasn’t a single bar. Magic and tech didn’t mix. She put her phone away.
Ademar stopped halfway down the stairs, pressing his palm against the carved wainscoting to his left. A panel sprang open, revealing a cramped passageway. Ademar stepped through, signaling Lila to follow. The panel slid shut behind her, and the crystal globes set along the ceiling sprang to life with a soft glow.
“Escape route?” she whispered, gazing around her.
“Not exactly,” he replied, beckoning her onward.
Lila followed, thoughts swirling. Secret passages were nothing new, but she hadn’t expected them in a way station. This was supposed to be a refuge, not a place for spies. And how had Ademar known this was here? Only those closest to the king should know such secrets.
She glimpsed a half-open door that led to a tiny chamber off the passageway. A wooden desk sat before shelves filled with dismantled electronics. A pink quartz crystal, shaped like an obelisk, pulsed faintly on the desktop. Fae used that type of stone for relaying messages through magic. Unfortunately, modern technology interfered with magic as well as the reverse. Ademar was trying to resolve the conflict.
“Is that where you do your research?” she asked.
“Yes,” he replied with a distracted wave. “So far, I’ve managed to piggyback a simple spelled message on the cellular network. ”
From that point forward, the ceiling sloped low enough that he had to stoop and narrow enough that they had to walk single file. That bothered Lila less than the intense aura of fresh magic that permeated the space. Someone had been casting strong spells nearby.
Lila’s urge to bolt for the open air welled up, almost irresistible. She shifted her grip on her gun, the familiar shape of it comforting. “Where does this corridor go?”
He didn’t answer. The passageway made a sharp right, then descended in a narrow flight of steps that ended at an ordinary-looking door. Ademar stopped, the cramped space forcing Lila to do the same. She could hear footfalls on the other side of the wall. Her brother had moved toward danger, not away from it.
“ Ademar ,” she whispered, a tidal wave of misgivings in that single word.
He glanced over his shoulder, his eyes unreadable in the soft glow of the crystals. “Trust me. There is only one way out of this where no one gets hurt.”
That failed to reassure her. Whatever was brewing between Lord Farras and Teegar, escalating the conflict seemed like a very bad idea.
With steady hands, Ademar rummaged in the pocket of his loose shirt, plucking something from inside the silky folds. At first, she didn’t see what it was, but once he held it up, she glimpsed a gauzy bundle.
Shock froze her in place. The object was no bigger than a walnut and shrouded with spiderweb and the glittering feathers of a moon moth’s wing. Its scent was pleasant, but her senses shuddered like the inside of a ringing bell. If this was the kind of charm someone was making inside this house, no wonder it vibrated with power.
“This is no way to prove your innocence,” she murmured, her thoughts clouding from so much magic leaking into the confined space .
“But this way you and I live long enough to make them listen,” he said, curling his fingers around the charm. “I won’t put my family in danger.”
He threw open the door, blocking Lila’s view with his tall frame. Someone shouted with surprise. Weapons hissed from scabbards. Despite herself, Lila took a step back into the passage.
“Good evening, gentlemen,” Ademar said with cool sarcasm.
“Surrender in the name of the king!” That was Teegar—Lila recognized the captain’s stentorian voice. “We found your sister’s vehicle on the roadside at the head of this valley. We know she’s here somewhere. Come quietly and we’ll spare her.”
Ademar gave a bark of laughter. “What a generous offer.”
He tossed the spell in one short, sharp motion. Lila ducked, covering her face before a bright flash of magic seared the air. Lilac afterimages danced along the back of her eyelids as sweet-smelling smoke all but gagged her. She held her breath, counting the beat of her pulse in a vain effort to guess when the worst of it would pass.
After what seemed like hours, Ademar squeezed her shoulder. “It’s safe.”
Slowly, she peeled her hands from her face. The smoke had thinned, but she still felt groggy. She gazed up at her brother, studying his expression. “What have you done?”
Wordlessly, he picked up her gun and handed it to her. She must have dropped it—a sure sign the magic had impacted her despite such brief exposure. She snatched the weapon, ashamed of herself, and holstered it.
“Come on,” he said.
Lila straightened almost reluctantly. She’d come here to find out what Ademar was up to, and now she wasn’t sure she wanted the answer. She said nothing as she followed her brother out of the secret passage.
Two uniformed guards sprawled on the marble floor of the entrance hall, Captain Teegar was the tallest, the golden pommel of his massive sword resting in slack fingers. The other guard had crumpled like a stringless puppet, arms outflung.
Lila shuffled to a halt, suddenly light-headed with shock. “You shouldn’t have done this. Self-defense…”
“Is acceptable as long as it isn’t too successful,” he replied, a touch of mockery in his tone. “They aren’t injured, you know.”
“For now.”
Slow, rhythmic breaths echoed through the entrance hall, punctuated by the occasional snore. Fae called this bit of magic the Sleeping Beauty spell. It got the name from a human tale that, as usual, made a fae the villain of the story. While the romantic yarn was simple entertainment, the magic at the center of the plot was real and serious enough to be outlawed. Permanent sleep ended in death, even for an immortal.
“Ademar,” she began, wondering how to erase what had just happened.
“I’ve bought time.” Ademar’s tone grew defensive. “Help will come.”
“Who?”
“They told me this would happen. I prepared for it.”
The numbness flooding her began to recede, replaced by fury. “I can’t speak for your allies, but no friend would encourage this madness. Nor would they tell you to be here and then leave you alone without support.” She pushed past him, picking her way around the sleeping guards.
“Where are you going?” Ademar demanded.
“To the kitchen. The spell can’t be deep yet. A bucket of cold water should wake them.”
“Wait!” Ademar reached for her arm.
Lila broke into a run and prayed the house followed the usual layout of a fae dwelling. If so, the kitchen should be to the right. She ducked down a short hall and through another door.
And came face to face with a wolf-eyed stranger.