A Thief of Nightshade (10 page)

His friend stepped back. “Let’s go.”

“Shut up. We’ve nothing to fear.”

“I see a ring on your hand,” Aubrey started, “If I were you, I’d let me go if you want to return to your wife and ... God, I hope you don’t have any kids.”

With this, he let her go. She had barely steadied herself when he grabbed a small knife from his vest pocket and held it against her chest. He cut her a little with the tip, a warning. “You shut your mouth about my children, you—”

Aislinn leaped out of the shadows and snatched the man. He held the man by his shirt, snarling, and was ready to tear into his neck when Aislinn’s expression abruptly fell and he dropped him.

Shaking with fear, the man crawled backwards on his hands and feet until he was against the wall of the building and looked up at the bear. “Beast, I beg you, let me live. I meant her no harm,” he whimpered.

Aislinn stood frozen where he’d let go of his prey. “You have fallen so far, Rustin,” he said sadly, his voice wavering with emotion. “Has so much time passed that I simply no longer know you, or is it that I never did?”

The moody, unpredictable animal she’d come to know no longer sounded estranged at all from the kingdom of Man.

Like Jullian, whom he’d referenced on more than one occasion by his first name, this contemptible creature who’d had his grimy hands on her was someone Aislinn knew, though how she couldn’t begin to guess.

“What are you?” Rustin asked. “How do you know my name?”

A low rumble sounded in Aislinn’s chest and erupted as a full-out roar. Rustin didn’t take the time to ask his question again and instead made his way down the alley as quickly as he could.

Aubrey walked to where Aislinn stood in silence, his body turned away from her. She touched him lightly on his injured shoulder, still wrapped in cloth.

His exaggerated movements had started it bleeding again. He jerked away from her and with his teeth he pulled the bandage tight again. “I’m fine. Leave me alone.”

“You knew h—” Her confrontation was abruptly stopped as the sharpest pain she’d felt yet tore through her, bringing her to her knees. She couldn’t speak, not even whimper. All she could do was breathe.

Aislinn had his paw on her arm, ready to scoop her up, when the door beside her cracked open. She saw him retreat to the shadows as a black-booted foot stepped in front of her.

“What manner of creature scares off business from my doorstep this evening?”

Aubrey felt hands touching the back of her neck as whoever had spoken looked at her wounds. “Take slow deep breaths instead of shallow ones, it will help with the pain.

Better yet, take this.” Aubrey felt a sharp sting on her arm and turned her face up to see the woman tucking an antiquated syringe back into the pocket of her night coat. “Come in, let’s get you out of this miserable evening and see what can be done with you. Your friend may come, too.” She motioned to the shadows.

Aubrey felt the effects immediately of whatever she’d been given. The pain subsided completely, leaving her light and without care. “I need to speak with Lady Crimson,” she murmured.

The woman smiled sweetly, helping Aubrey upright. “Well, you needn’t go far, I’m right here.” They passed several couples, their voices echoing softly in the darkened alcoves where they hid. None of them seemed to notice the intrusion as the three of them walked through the connected rooms, finally coming up the stairs to a small fire-lit bedroom at the back of the house. Aubrey wasn’t sure what she’d expected when Tabor had told them to come see her, but the peaceful, unmarred woman who guided them now certainly wasn’t what she’d imagined.

Lady Crimson ushered Aubrey to sit on a chaise beneath the window sill where she could sit opposite her.

“How strange that you would travel with protection of this sort when you so clearly could have chosen a human to safeguard you.” She touched Aubrey’s cheek with the back of her hand. “Skin that isn’t ruddy from the factories or dried out from a housemaid’s work and innocence that cannot be bought. You’ve only been with one man,” she leaned in to whisper, “of your own accord.” She straightened. “I can tell these things, you know.”

Aubrey’s

skin

burned

with

embarrassment, only confirming that what Lady Crimson had said was true. “I need your help,” she said.

Lady Crimson rose from her seat and walked to the dressing table just a few feet away. She picked up a silver brush and began brushing out the untidy auburn tresses that fell at Aubrey’s shoulders.

“Such a pretty thing you are, unmade by paint and glitter and fuss. So very few are naturally beautiful. You would fetch more than a bride price with every gentleman you escorted. Pity. So you merely seek instruction? You wish to know how to pleasure a man before you take your last breath? I know the wounds you bear, child. Are you certain this is what you want in your final days?”

Aubrey was nearly lost in the fog of whatever she’d been given and the sensations of having her hair toyed with at the same time nearly lulled her to sleep.

She fought the urge to close her eyes.

“No,” she said softly, laying her hand on Lady Crimson’s and stopping the brush.

“You’ve confronted her. You know how to save him.”

Horrified, Lady Crimson let go of the brush and Aubrey both, bolting to her feet.

“Get out,” she whispered. “How dare you come here, asking anything of me?

Haven’t

I

suffered

enough?”

The

escalation in her tone brought hurried steps up the stairs and Aislinn stood to bar the door.

“How long have you suffered? How long has it been since you had faith in what could be done to save him? You once thought it possible.” Aubrey slowly stood up, balancing herself by gripping the edge of the chaise with one hand. “Tell me how and I will give you something in return to make the hours more bearable.”

Lady Crimson, coming unsettled more and more with each moment, seemed to age before their eyes until at last she was as old and haggard as a scarecrow in long season. “Nothing you give me will lessen my pain. Nothing!”

Aubrey reached into the hidden pocket of her dress and pulled out the button. She worried it in her hand, then lifted it for Lady Crimson to see. She felt ridiculous, but as Tabor had promised, the madame appeared instantly entranced.

“Where did you get that?” she breathed, reaching for it just as Aubrey snatched it back.

“Tell me first, then we’ll talk about it.”

“You can’t save him. Take heed now and go home while you still can.”

Aubrey gripped the chaise harder as her back twitched. It felt like tiny limbs had spread through her, eating away at bone and muscle. “You say that and yet you see your beloved in something as plain and ordinary as a button. This was his, wasn’t it?”

A loud ruckus sounded outside, exaggerated by the cluttered confines of the room. The door behind Aislinn was hit by something hard enough that it threatened to send him off-balance.

“Call them off, lady!” Aislinn snarled. “Or I swear to God I’ll eat that button and you’ll have a hell of time getting it back!”

“Everything is fine in here, leave us!” Lady Crimson yelled. A moment later, a man’s voice asked her to confirm her sentiments. When she did, whoever was beyond the door stood down and everything was quiet again.

“Tell me, please,” Aubrey pleaded.

“The curse cannot be broken,” Lady Crimson said sadly. “Go to him if you must, see for yourself. I received visitors from the Summer Court just days ago who traveled to the Queen’s masquerade.”

Lady Crimson took from the dressing table drawer a sealed glass vial, held by a silver leaf that curled from its base and wound its way to the top, where it hinged as a lid. “I may only offer you the last drop of what was once a great hope. Drink this glamour and for three hours you will appear to everyone around you as Fae.

Say your goodbyes and go home, wake from this nightmare and go on with what life you have left.”

“You say the curse can’t be broken, but you once tried. What would it take to break it?”

“Once your Prince dons his crown, the Lyr will draw his life’s breath from him. You have no chance.”

“Come on Aislinn, there’s nothing for us here. What good will the potion do us if we don’t know—”

“You want to see for yourself what will become of your Prince?” Lady Crimson placed her hands on either side of Aubrey’s face and the world went

black.

Lady Crimson’s nights, once so full of promise, had become an unending stretch of fathomless despair. It felt as though Aubrey had stepped into the Madame’s skin and soaked in her emotions. Like she’d walked through Lady Crimson’s soul.

I had a name once, Aubrey ... they called me Jacinda.

Visions swelled before Aubrey’s eyes of Jacinda’s past, of the love she’d once had with ...

His name was Christopher.

They’d met in England, at a boarding school not unlike the one Aubrey had attended. Jacinda had loved him at first sight.

It took him much longer to notice me.

Aubrey watched in ghostly fashion as Jacinda spied on the boys with her girlfriends from afar, then ran to pick up the button that had fallen from his coat.

She’d considered yelling after him, to tell him, then changed her mind and tucked it away for herself.

Christopher grew up in our world.

His parents found a way beyond the barrier and switched their illfated son with a human child. Saralia was none the wiser until the coronation. Just like now, it took years for the Sidhe to find him.

When they did, he was away at war. I received word that he’d been killed in

battle, only to be awakened by Tabor the next night. I had no choice but to come here, Aubrey. And I had no choice but to lose him to the Fae.

Then Aubrey

watched,

through

Jacinda’s eyes as Christopher received his crown. A brilliant flash of blue ... the Lyr ... erupted from the ground and knocked Jacinda to the floor. She’d never gotten close enough to touch him.

Or say goodbye. That was two hundred and ninety years ago.

Aubrey blinked as the world returned to normal.

“It cannot be undone,” Lady Crimson said. “But go if you must. I will promise you nothing.”

Aubrey took the vial and in exchange handed over the button. A pained expression spread over the madame’s face as she clutched the tiny thing in her hands.

“Thank you,” Aubrey said.

“Stupid, foolish girl.” Lost in irritable reflection, Lady Crimson palmed the tears from her cheeks. “Go now and let me be.”

AUBREY HAD MOVED PLEASANTLY IN AND

OUT
of sleep for several hours, floating seamlessly from dream to day and back.

Finally, the feel of Jullian’s unshaven jaw nudged her past the dividing line and she woke up.

“It’s noon, love.” He was on top of the covers, peering down at her.

She blinked, allowing her eyes a brief respite to adjust to the sunlight streaming in the window. Seeing the peaceful expression on his face reminded her of how unpeaceful her night had been.

She sat up abruptly.