Her Dark Legion Page 7

  Nobody ever had Eledan under control.

  “He got to me too,” Talen said.

  “What?” Eledan had gotten to Talen? “When?”

  “I’m not certain.” He tilted his head. His silvery hair fell over one shoulder. “Visiting Sol and Earth… I remember little, just the pain, but he was in my dreams.”

  Kellee closed his eyes and dropped his head back against the carriage. “You were losing your shit on Excalibur. I needed Talen, not the Nightshade.” When he opened his eyes, he swallowed. “I asked him to keep you asleep, to make you dream so you didn’t spook the Excalibur crew.”

  Kellee did what? “You invited him into Talen’s head?”

  Talen’s hand came down on my thigh. “It’s all right. It was the better solution.”

  I’d spent nine months with that sluaghbait in my head. It was not all right. “What did he make you dream of, Talen?” I asked.

  “You.”

  I slumped back in the seat. Eledan had touched each of our minds, likely plucked on our motives and desires like a master musician. Damn him, we were all compromised. He knew us better than we knew ourselves. He knew our dreams and our nightmares.

  All but Sirius.

  I didn’t yet know what it meant, or if it meant anything at all, but having Eledan so close couldn’t be good. Rubbing away the ache along my forehead, I asked, “You mentioned a key, Kellee?”

  “It has something to do with the polestar. One is important to the other, that’s all I can remember. He knows where it is, I think.”

  Of course Eledan did.

  “Ailish will know more,” I mumbled, looking out of the window at the world rushing by.

  “It is dangerous to pin your hopes on a Wild One,” Talen offered. “Especially as she is well-known to Eledan. She is likely playing her own game.”

  Nothing different from dealing with any other fae. Kellee’s gaze said he knew it too. Ailish had helped me free Eledan from Oberon’s slumber. She knew him, had even spoken fondly of the foolish prince with a heart full of pride and a head full of dreams who would visit her cavern.

  “What choice do I have?”

  Neither Sota, Talen, nor Kellee could answer.

  The carriage rocked to a gentle halt. Sota and I clambered out first, followed by Talen and Kellee.

  As soon as I stepped down from the carriage, it was clear Ailish wasn’t home. When Sirius and I had approached before, the cave entrance had glowed with life. There was no glowing now, just cold, bare stone.

  Sirius turned from the cavern, mouth grimly set. “This makes things more challenging.”

  “Where do we go from here?” I asked.

  He peered over my head, scanning the dense forest. Where wisps had bumbled through the air and illuminated huge oak branches, shadows gathered. The entire place had a sinister feel to it.

  “Your hear that?” Kellee asked.

  “I don’t hear anything,” Sota replied.

  And that was the problem. Faerie was rarely quiet.

  Kellee’s claws stretched from his fingers. “We’re being watched.”

  “On Faerie,” Sirius said, “you always are.” I lowered my hand to my whip. Sirius’s gaze followed the movement. “We must travel to Safira,” he added, catching my eye before sliding that guarded stare toward Talen.

  Something passed between them, some shared knowledge that had Talen straightening and studiously avoiding my pointed look. There was so much the fae said between their words, unheard by the rest of us, that we had no hope of understanding.

  “Safira was a seat of power long before the courts reigned,” Talen said. “When my unseelie were driven out, the knoll was abandoned.”

  My unseelie. It was the first time he’d address the dark fae as his, and it reminded me of who I stood beside. The Nightshade. The unseelie’s chosen leader. A badass the likes of which Faerie hadn’t seen until Oberon had forced Talen and his legions into the dark. I’m not who I once was.

  “It was abandoned,” Sirius replied, “but Faerie abhors a vacuum.”

  That shared knowledge strummed the air with tension. Safira was important, and these two ancient fae were pulling their usual act of speaking only what was necessary so the rest of us had to play catch-up.

  “Hey,” I barked. “Fewer secrets and more sharing, remember?” They blinked shining secret-filled eyes. “Where is Safira and why are you both acting like this is worse than bad?”

  “The Wild Ones are… difficult.” Sirius said difficult like I’d say fucking impossible. “Return to the carriage. Time is not our ally.”

  Kellee grunted. “How about a please, asshole?”

  Something hot and sharp flashed across Sirius’s gaze. “You’re a visitor here, vakaru. Be careful how you address those to whom this land belongs, lest the land take offense.”

  I touched Kellee’s arm to distract his single-focused glare and draw it away from the departing guardian. He gritted his teeth, cheek tightening.

  “If that stick were any farther up his ass, he’d be scaring crows,” Sota muttered, sauntering past us, remembering farms and their pests from our time watching Earthen shows on Calicto. Kellee moved away from my touch and followed Sota back to the carriage.

  Sirius swung into the driver’s seat and took up his fiery horses’ reins. After the others had climbed into the carriage, I veered to the front of the carriage and looked up at Sirius. “What aren’t you saying?”

  His tek-fingers stroked the vine-reins. “There are a great many individuals who would see harm come to you, Calla, and Safira harbors them all.”

  It was more than that. Sometimes, it had seemed like all of Faerie wanted me dead, and he hadn’t been overly concerned then. “You’re worried about something else. Is it Ailish?”

  “Ailish is more powerful than she seems, and she knows more about you than she should. Enemies often wear friendly faces.”

  I wanted more time with him. Maybe, if we talked more, I could ease his concerns and make him less prickly. “May I ride shotgun with you?”

  “No.”

  The denial cut.

  His hands tightened on the reins, and the vines creaked.

  Maybe the library kiss had been an emotional mistake. I remembered him being full of passion and want, but that was before everything else had happened, and there was none of that truth in him now.

  The horses snorted and jostled inside their harnesses, eager to be moving.

  “Mylana… Kesh… “ He waited for me to look up again, and his hard nothing expression softened into understanding. “It is not safe for a mortal to ride to Safira in the open. You’ll be protected inside the carriage.”

  I nodded and climbed inside. Talen’s touch looped around my waist, drawing me snug against him. “The guardian will come around, given time.”

  Maybe, if Kellee didn’t gut him first. Kellee and Sota discussed the carriage, arguing over whether it was held together by magic or vines.

  With their voices mingling, I breathed out and pulled Talen’s arm tighter around me, enjoying the closeness while I could. “What is this Safira place that has you and Sirius so concerned?”

  “There have always been those in between, not seelie and not unseelie, just… fae.”

  “Like you?”

  He nodded and brushed my hair from my face. “Safira was my home before. It is where we—the fae—would go to feel closer to Faerie.”

  Why did that set my heart fluttering, like it was a bad thing to go there?

  “If Sirius is correct, the Wild Ones have adopted Safira. We’ll know more once we arrive.”

  Talen’s home. He’d mentioned it only once, telling me of how he had loved a saru in his household. He’d tried to keep her safe by agreeing to stand beside Oberon. The Hunt had killed the saru at Oberon’s command, setting off the chain of events that had turned Talen from a lordly sidhe into the Nightshade.

  His fingers danced down my face and lifted my chin. A tickle of his power warmed my jaw and s
ank into my bones, chasing away my anxiety.

  Without the bond between us, he could hurt me, could even control me. He’d turned the entire human crew of the Excalibur into puppets eager to do his bidding. It would be easy for him to control me or ravage my mind in the same way.

  I swallowed. I didn’t want to think these things, but how could I not when I was looking into the eyes of a creature who had once commanded all of Faerie’s dark forces?

  “I miss the bond as much as you do,” he said. “I find your absence startling and cold. You were my light, and the way you’re looking at me, I fear you’re slipping away. But know this, I will always be yours. These words are my bond. Don’t leave me, Kesh.”

  He had said those words long ago, when I’d woken from Eledan’s dreams and hadn’t yet become the Messenger. He had dropped to his knees and shared his magic with me. We had no bond to make them true, but on Faerie, we didn’t need one.

  “I won’t leave you.” I wrapped his hand in mine. “What happened on that balcony, please know it wasn’t you I was rejecting. I’ll never turn my back on you, Talen.”

  His eyes fluttered closed, his free hand cupped my face, and he settled the lightest kiss on my forehead. “Come home with me,” he whispered, bundling me close against his chest. The warm, heady scents of jasmine and night lily coiled around me too. The feel of him, his magic, all of him—strong yet vulnerable. My heart ached to think of him hurting. Going home would be difficult after so long away, but he wasn’t alone.

  Together.

  Sirius cracked the reins. The carriage jolted, the horses whinnied, and we were picking up speed at an alarming rate.

  “Don’t look outside.” He nodded at Sota. “You as well, Sota. Keep your gaze inside the carriage.”

  Sota angled his back to the window. “Where is Safira?”

  “Somewhere that cannot be reached by conventional means.”

  Kellee sat rigidly on the bench opposite me, arms crossed and head back, his gaze fixed on the carriage ceiling as he tried his hardest to appear unaffected by Faerie. Extracting myself from Talen’s grip, I crossed to Kellee’s side and spread my hand on his thigh. Talen spared the slightest of understanding nods, one Kellee didn’t see.

  “I’ll happily hug you,” Sota offered Talen. The fae smiled quickly and looped his arm around Sota’s shoulders, reeling him close. Sota tried to pull back. “Unless the tek hurts?”

  “It’s fine.” Talen clamped him closer, and Sota melted against him. It warmed my hardened heart to see them so close.

  The carriage rattled and thundered, its wooden seams groaning. Curiosity demanded I look outside to see where we were going so fast. It couldn’t be a normal road; we’d have wrecked by now. Faster and faster we traveled, to the sound of galloping hooves. Kellee’s thigh was stone beneath my grip. He would never admit to fear, but I knew my vakaru.

  I leaned into him and whispered, “You are not ready for what will happen when I finally get you alone.” Over the carriage’s thunderous sounds, the others wouldn’t hear me, but Kellee’s sensitive hearing picked up every word.

  “You think so, huh?” he whispered back and looked down, bringing us almost cheek to cheek. I inched my hand higher up his thigh, smiling as he shifted, giving me better access.

  “You, me, a bed … naked except for my whip…” I dug my fingers in and raked them up his thigh to where his pants bunched. He shifted again, adjusting to keep himself comfortable.

  “I don’t do submissive.” His voice had dropped a level, adopting that gravelly maleness he liked to use to seduce. “You’ll have to catch me, and maybe then you could persuade me.”

  Something screamed outside the carriage. One of the horses, perhaps, but it sounded broken, like glass shattering. I’d turned to look for the source when Kellee’s hand clamped loosely around my neck and his mouth scorched my skin below my ear. His mouth on my neck ignited a rush of heat. Whatever was outside was quickly forgotten in the feel of having a vakaru’s teeth hovering over an artery.

  “You like that thought?” he asked.

  I liked all the thoughts in my head, but especially the one of him tied to a bed. He’d been around a long time, maybe lived a hundred lifetimes, but in all that time, had he allowed anyone to bind him?

  His teeth nipped at my ear. My fingers curled in his shirt. The carriage could have burst into flames and I wouldn’t have noticed. Dampness gathered between my legs, where Kellee’s free hand roamed toward. As a distraction, it had worked, for both of us, but now I wanted to straddle his legs, tear his clothes off, and fuck my vakaru, and I didn’t care that we weren’t alone.

  His dirty chuckle worsened my raging desire. His fingers found the sweet spot, stroking over my pant seam, his rough touch infuriatingly close. “You don’t have the patience for games, Kesh,” he purred against my jaw.

  “Oh, don’t I?”

  I gently planted a hand on his chest and pushed him back, delighting in the golden burn haloing his dark pupils and wanting nothing more than to grab him. But the carriage was slowing, and I was in charge of this game. He let me twist out of his grip and rested back into his position, the only difference being his knowing smile.

  Talen’s gaze had fallen to the window, where strange, dappled lights washed in and over the carriage floor.

  “Is it safe to look?”

  “It is,” he whispered, not taking his eyes off whatever awaited outside. I’d seen that look on his face before, one of need and want, but also of fear.

  The Nightshade was home, but what kind of home was it?

  The carriage jolted to a halt, and in the quiet that followed, I heard the whistles, chirps, and song of countless pixies. Light danced outside, so bright my light-sensitive eyes couldn’t make out anything solid or recognizable.

  Sota straightened, on alert, as Talen threw the door open. He hesitated, chest stuttering, before offering me his hand. “Come with me.”

  I folded my hand in his and stepped out of the carriage.

  Chapter 12

  Alone, as a messenger on Calicto, I’d built a personal safety drone by repurposing an Arcon wardrone and mixing it with borrowed fae magic. I had many reasons for making Sota, but none had been to make a friend. I hadn’t known I needed one, until he was there, by my side, filling the silences and chasing away bad memories. Night after night, after I’d finished delivering my messages for the day and earned my fresh water or food rations, I’d tell Sota tales of the fae. Stories like the bucca, for whom human fishermen always left a fish from their catch on the shore. Or how the bucca was used as a threat to quiet noisy children. The changelings that the fae left in place of stolen babies—who the fae took to check up on their human experiment—could be found out by mixing a brew of crushed eggshells. The tatter-foal could take the shape of any creature, not just wolves, like the Cu Sith. On and on I told Sota those human folktales, marveling at many myself. The truth of the fae was kept from saru as it was from humans, but humanity had woven their existence into their myths. I’d often wondered how many of these myths were true. The Faerie I’d been raised in was poised and sedate compared to the colorful Faerie from those tales.

  Humans had been right.

  When Talen led me from the carriage and the bright light lessened, I found my mind reaching for those fairytales to make sense of the sight. Little people, no taller than my knee, sat in the branches of gnarled trees. Enormous foxgloves, twice as tall as me, swayed in a nonexistent breeze, colored bright red and soft cream. Sidhe fae, like Sirius and Talen, milled about, but some had tails, or cloven hooves where their feet should be, or horns, or hair like manes, or no hair at all, their skin shimmering like fish scales.

  “They’re real…” Sota whispered. “They were always real.”

  When Talen finally spoke, his voice was full of awe but undermined by a touch of regret. “Before Oberon’s cleansing, before the courts of unseelie and seelie formed, the Wild Ones populated Faerie.”

  A virtually naked female w
ith tawny, velvety skin sauntered by, singing to herself or the glittering pixies nesting in her dreadlocked hair. Her tail swished around her ankles, and her eyes were like Hulia’s, with double eyelids. She was namu, or part namu, perhaps the origin of Oberon’s namu creations. There was no mistaking the power of her voice as it urged me to follow her in dance.

  Oberon would have hated this riot of beasts and color and the chaos of their construction. To me, they were beautiful, each and every one of them. These were Sirius and Talen’s people. They were chaos and mayhem and noise and dance.

  “Be careful, calla,” Sirius murmured behind my left shoulder. “Remember the docks.”

  Ah, yes, the docks, when one of these people had tried to lure me away from Sirius. The tales of the messing with humans had been true too. I was close enough to human and susceptible here.

  “Ailish will be here,” Sirius said. “Do not dally or the earth will root your feet and keep you forever.”

  Sota huffed a laugh, then lost his smile when he looked down to see how a string of vines had tangled around his boots. He plucked himself free and shuddered. “That’s just rude.”

  Meandering paths crisscrossed the mossy earth and around different-sized earthy mounds propped up by little doors. Homes, I assumed. Some were stores displaying their wares of clothes and fabrics. Above, wisps clung to strings of ivy like the lights slung across the sinks back home on Old Calicto, only here the lights were alive.

  I didn’t see a sky, just layers of dark on dark with no stars. We were underground, then? A knoll, but much, much bigger, like a small underground town. I moved after the others, trying and failing not to stare. C’mon, Kesh, nothing down here should be surprising. Where did I think Oberon had gotten the DNA for all his experiments?

  We came to a junction of paths.

  “Find Ailish,” Talen told Sirius. “I’ll take them home.”

  Sirius veered off one way, toward where the domes grew larger and more closely packed together. Talen nodded at us to follow a less worn path that snaked away from the “town” center toward a copse that looked a lot like Kellee’s blood-hungry vakaru trees. I checked Kellee. He nodded. They were those trees. Best not bleed on them.