Curse of the Fae King (23 page)

For Meena’s sake, he reined in his temper and tried again. “I’m sorry for your current situation. I intend to take Meena back to the Fae court when I leave. I swear I’ll take you with me.”

“I trusted a Fae once, and he betrayed me. I won’t make that mistake again, boy,” Elizbetta snapped.

Leonidas’s Fae training helped him clamp down on his fury—almost. “I’m not my father,” he snapped. His straightened to his full height and held his chin up—all arrogant grace—but this was a time to turn on the charm. “I’ll never hurt you or your daughter. I’m begging, Lady, lift the curse you placed on my bloodline. I’ll do anything, promise anything, to win her—but I won’t betray her the way my father did my mother or you.”

The Vampire hissed under his breath. Elizbetta just spat again. Elves’ blood, he was getting nowhere.

Elizbetta smirked and drew herself upright. Her eyes flashed fire. “There is a way for you to escape my curse.”

Leonidas sighed with relief. “Thank the gods. Just tell me what to do.”

Her cackle chilled his soul. “Take that rapier of yours, boy, and slit your throat. Die childless, and my curse dies with you.”

“Lady Elizbetta,” he begged, “I love Meena, and I know she loves me. Only, bound by your curse, I can’t offer her the fidelity she deserves.”

Elizbetta cackled again. “Fae and fidelity? Not happening. I wouldn’t break my curse even if I knew how. Now get of my sight, or else.”

Leonidas dragged his feet as he left the dungeon, but Elizbetta’s last admission had destroyed his hopes—right along with his life. His heart and cock throbbed to claim Meena, but the curse had grown beyond its caster’s abilities. Unbreakable. A weapon to bring down the Fae. His father deserved Elizbetta’s hatred, but Leonidas and Meena paid the price. Now he had no way to claim his true-mate and stay faithful. He might whisk her away from Mordred and love her for a few months, but eventually she’d loathe his overactive sex life.
Elves’ blood, I hate being a man whore, but my curse leaves me no choice.

He’d hurt Meena when he shoved the naked runaway from his room, but he hadn’t touched the damn girl. He loved Meena too much for that. Watching him bed a legion of willing women would only compound her pain. He’d have to if he wanted to keep his beast chained and caged. He couldn’t be unfaithful. Not to Meena.

He’d summon Lipstick and return to his court on his powerful scarlet war dragon, but he needed to see his half brother first.

Lips narrowed into an angry line, he stalked to Mordred’s chambers. Empty! The bastard was probably making up to Meena.

Mine!
his instincts screamed.
The Witch is mine
. Twenty-two years of hating Witches, gone in an instant. Meena was beauty and perfection, the embodiment of all his hopes and dreams, however badly her mother reacted. Two days ago, he’d have laughed at the thought. Today, it nearly broke him.

He fumed and paced the room. He’d lost everything thanks to his half brother’s connivance.

Finally the door opened. Mordred sauntered in.

Leonidas’s right hook split Mordred’s lip. His left jab blacked Mordred’s eye. Leonidas dodged away from Mordred’s uppercut and punched his half brother in the belly. Mordred staggered and fell. Leonidas straddled him, and his right hook connected with the overlord’s jaw. Mordred’s head whipped left, but he bucked his hips and tried to throw Leonidas off. “You don’t deserve her, bro.”

“Mine!” Leonidas bellowed as his fist dislocated Mordred’s jaw. Another swinging arm, and blood poured from Mordred’s nose. Two quick, vicious jabs, and Mordred lay still beneath him. Leonidas wanted to kick in his half brother’s ribs or pound his bones to pulp. Instead he stared in disgust, stood up, and slammed the door as he left the overlord’s room.

A telepathic link to Lipstick, and the scarlet war dragon swooped into the courtyard. Elves scattered at the dragon’s approach. Archers appeared on the walls, crossbows at the ready.

“Shoot him and die,” Leonidas roared. He fondled his dragon’s ears, but Lipstick crooned a sad question when only the Fae king welcomed him. Leonidas’s voice broke as he patted the dragon’s neck. “She’s not coming. She’s marrying my half brother instead.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

Meena paced the bedchamber and tried to rein in her temper.

“You can’t marry him. Not after the way he mistreated your father,” Elizbetta snapped. She sat on Vlad’s lap, and the pair of them perched on the bed, but while Elizbetta glowered furiously at her daughter, the Vampire king looked thoughtful.

No way would Meena back down. This pact freed her parents and gave her a home, just not the one she’d wanted. “We made a pact, and Mordred sealed it with his magic. The deal’s done. You can’t have thought I’d return to Whitby, not when you and my father are heading back to the Vampire court. What should I do? Sit there all on my own and watch the herbs wither? Should I come with you and play gooseberry? I don’t think I’m cut from the Vampire princess pattern. Or maybe you expect me to return to the coven’s homelands and let them execute me? At least, if I stay here with Mordred, I can build a new life.”

A life without Leonidas sucked. Meena wished she’d ignored the runaway’s screams, only that would have earned her a long slow death in a pitcher plant. Much as Meena detested the other woman, she would never wish that on her. And that took her right back to the drugged-up night in Leonidas’s arms. She pined for him still, but she’d never get to suck his dick deep into her throat again. Not now that she’d promised to marry Mordred.

She’d loved the heady feeling of power when she drew Leonidas’s cock so far into her mouth it had slipped down her throat. When he’d spilled his seed in her mouth, his eyes had rolled back in his head, and she wanted to please him like that again. If she’d accepted the apology he’d offered as they marched, she might have loved him one last time. Instead she’d stuck her nose in the air and flounced off—but with those leather straps chafing at her nipples, she hadn’t flounced far.

No tears, she told herself firmly. Not for a loser like him…only why were her cheeks wet? Her father—the Dracula of human legend for goodness’ sake—swept her into his arms. “Meena, my home is your home. Always. Besides, I’d like to know my daughter better.” He stared down at Elizbetta. “You haven’t told her?”

Elizbetta buried her head in her hands. “I didn’t dare in case it changed my vision.”

Meena swallowed nervously, then realized nothing could make the nightmare existence worse. She copied one of Leonidas’s favorite mannerisms and tried to raise one of her eyebrows at her father. They shot up her forehead in unison.
Damn, I can’t even get this right
. His body stiffened, and his gaze turned so cold she shivered. For a brief moment she saw the ruthless streak that made him such a fearsome Vampire king.

Elizbetta stayed on Vlad’s lap, still determined to make Meena see things her way. “Do you know how desperate I was when you disappeared? I’d have done anything, even lie to my daughter, to find you again. Meena, I tried to tell you back in the dungeon, but the only way I could see for the three of us to get back together was if I bound your powers and fled the homelands.”

Her father gently shoved Elizbetta from his lap and moved to comfort Meena.

She shoved him away. “I get that I’m that family disappointment—and I don’t like that any more than you—but I never had any magic for you to bind. Remember how I wept every time one of friends came into their powers? I tried to be happy for them, but I always wished it was me. I was angry, jealous, and hurting—and yeah—after all that, I get to kill a few plants. Better yet, you’re back with your true-mate.” She burst into tears. “I’m happy for you, Mum, but…I just want to be happy too.”

Her father, a man she barely knew, held her while she sobbed against his chest. “Elizbetta, did your visions show you how much pain you’d cause our daughter? I’d rather spend another twenty years in that dungeon than see Meena hurt like this.”

Elizbetta moved closer, her arms open, but Meena moved out of reach. Her head throbbed, and her limbs ached, but the Fae king mattered more than her pain. “Break the curse, and set Leonidas free. Then you can explain what you mean when you say you bound my nonexistent powers.”

Again, Meena moved away when Elizbetta tried to hold her.

“Tell her,” Vlad commanded.

“You had powers, Meena, but they were so strong you were a danger to yourself and your friends. If I’d left them unchecked, you’d have gone slowly insane.”

Another layer of ice—permafrost maybe—formed around Meena’s already frozen heart. When they’d moved to the mundane world, she’d leaned on her mother. Later, she’d supported her by taking over the herb farm’s paperwork. Yet the woman she’d thought was perfect admitted binding her daughter’s powers. Talk about kicking out pit props and watching a mine collapse—but the one thing life had taught Meena was how to stay strong. No more tears. Not today. Later when she slipped into bed, she’d let loose the torrent she’d stemmed by sheer force of will.

Her mother sank onto the sofa. “I didn’t have a choice. Meena, your heritage makes you special and unique.”

“Yeah.” Meena snorted. “Walking Agent Orange—that’s me.”

Elizbetta shook her head. “You’re capable of so much more than that. Your father’s strength flows though you, but Vampires don’t do magic. They are magic. I’m the strongest of the green Witches, but now your familiar’s unlocked the binding I put on your powers, you’re the strongest of all of us.”

Meena folded her arms across her chest.

“Sweetheart,” her mother pleaded, “try to understand. You absorb magic. Back in your teens, your friends came from every caste. Every time their magic blossomed, you drank it in like a sponge. Eventually their parents intervened and blocked your powers so their offspring could develop into the Witches they were born to become. Another year at the most, and you would have drunk in their parents’ strength too.”

Meena stared out the window at the spiral-leaved water weed seething in the moat. Beyond them blue-trumpeted daffodils twisted through flesh hungry flytraps, all competing for food. “So, not only does the local vegetation hate me, but I squelch my friends’ magic. This just gets better by the minute.”

Her father gently uncrossed her arms and took her hands. “My daughter, you do so much more than that. However, while I do not approve of your mother’s silence, her actions saved your life.”

Elizbetta stared at her through red-rimmed eyes. “According to our records, only three other Witches could absorb magic like you, but all that power burned them out. They could sense everyone’s magic, and they absorbed so much they literally glowed. Eventually their systems overloaded. They could sense the power all around them, but they couldn’t touch it or shape it. Sadly they couldn’t function without it, and each one of them went insane. See, your father’s strength saved your life. I could feel the tumult of magic inside you, and I tried to give you an outlet through the only thing I knew. I thought you’d make plants blossom and grow, but your magic had other ideas. Now you kill anything green and growing that comes near you.”

Torn between tears and laughter, Meena retreated into sparky-tongued defiance. “Then call me when the Martians invade. Oh come on, little green men and all that. Oh, forget it. But hello? When I finally develop some magic, I kill things. All I get is a ton of dead leaves. Maybe I should start a compost heap.”

Elizbetta managed a small smile. “Haven’t you healed faster or felt stronger since your familiar found you?”

Meena remembered how her blister had healed while she slept. Even after a night of endless mind-blowing sex with Leonidas, she’d walked with a spring in her step. Then again every time he’d fucked her, she’d felt treasured and loved. At least that meant her familiar wasn’t the shop owner’s bad-tempered Yorkshire terrier. That damn dog had hated her from the day she started to work at the Goth shop. That meant…
Sweet Hekate, Lipstick’s my familiar. Oh, and as an added bonus, he’s the Fae king’s new war dragon
. That’d be the same Fae king who left without a word, so there would be no sharing—ever.

With a bitter grin, Elizbetta told her, “Those plants have mutated. Once, they kept down the predators and acted as a barrier between kingdoms. Now they feed on magic, and they’re gradually bleeding the Patria and Prodia, the Elf and the Fae homelands, dry. Since their bonds with the dragons strengthen them, the Fae will stand against them for a while, but neither race will last long. After what they did to my Vlad, I just can’t wait.”

Meena refused to stand by and let that happen—no matter what her parents thought. “So if I kill the plants, it’ll be like I’m gorging on a magic feast? And as an added bonus, the Fae and Elves will gradually reclaim their powers.”

“You wouldn’t,” her mother gasped.

Meena smiled for her first time since Leonidas betrayed her. “Since I love the Fae king and I’m engaged to the Elf overlord, you bet your ass I will.”

* * * *

Leonidas took back the reins of the Fae Nation—but he had some serious changes to make. His warriors, both male and female, drilled daily with their bonded war dragons. Lipstick loved the flights and complex maneuvers. Once they were back on the ground, he seemed sadder with each passing day.

The squadrons expected Leonidas to rename his dragon, but Meena had chosen Lipstick’s name. Even that tenuous link was precious now. Every time he thought of her bedding his half brother, his beast roared and raged. When normally it only roused one day a month, now it prowled through his psyche, predatory and vicious. Frustrated, it lengthened his fingernails—right along with his cock—desperate to fuck Meena again. The one woman he couldn’t have.

The day he’d returned, he’d summoned his advisors, but they’d seemed more hidebound and stuffy than ever. When he announced his plans to forge stronger links with the Witch Council, they huffed and shook their heads.

He listened to their rambling list of reasons to maintain their isolationist stance, then rose to his feet—all self-control and quiet menace—and ordered, “Quiet! My father was an adulterer even before Elizbetta cursed him. Are you really so proud of a Fae who let his dick drive him? He peppered his bastards through the kingdoms. Not Prodia’s finest hour. We need to move forward and build bridges to negate the damage my father’s libido caused.”