Master of the Night (18 page)

Her eyes were focused on Reece as he sat across the table from her, his handsome face as cold and impassive as if he'd turned to ice. She'd used her magic to dress him in the courtier's clothes the other Sidhe wore. She wasn't surprised the stark black velvet doublet with its silver embroidery only enhanced his rough beauty.

“It isn't easy to serve duty when the one you love does not understand,” Llyr said in a voice pitched for her ears alone.

She blinked and looked around at him. “I beg your pardon?”

He smiled a little bitterly and took another sip of his wine. Glancing down at his plate, she saw he'd eaten as little as she had. “I know too well how you feel. Janieda flew out of here in a rage when I told her you were considering my proposal.”

Erin stared at him. Now, there was a twist she hadn't expected. “You're in love with Janieda?”

Llyr shrugged. “We've been lovers for the past century. Unfortunately, however, she would not make a good queen.” His lips quirked again in that bitter smile. “Too passionate.” Lifting his cup toward Reece, he added, “Like your own lover there.”

“Reece understands duty perfectly well,” Erin said tightly. “He's been Champion of the United States for more than two hundred years.”

“So long?” Llyr's eyes twinkled at her over the rim of his cup, and she found herself wondering if she was being gently mocked. Quite probably, considering how long the Sidhe lived. “But there is a deal of difference between obeying the common dictates of obligation and doing that duty when your heart cries for mercy.”

“I am well familiar with ignoring the demands of my heart,” Reece said suddenly. His challenging gaze met theirs.

“Your pardon, Lord Reece,” Llyr said, then murmured softly to Erin. “One gathers vampire hearing is even more acute than that of the Sidhe.”

Reece smiled in a cold stretch of the lips. “I'm a spy, Your Highness. I eavesdrop for a living.”

The king's gaze hardened. “And evidently you do it well.” To Erin he added, “As do others, I'm reminded. Walk with me. I find myself in need of privacy.”

Erin felt her heart give a convulsive thump. He was going to ask her for her answer now. She managed a nod and rose to her feet.

At least she'd dressed for the occasion. Her own court gown was a brilliant red, embroidered with gold and glittering with gems, chosen to set off her blond hair and pale skin. She'd tinkered with the design for half an hour, trying to get it just right. Erin knew she would never be a match for any of the Sidhe in looks, but at least she could make the best of what she had.

The rest of the table rose with the king, Sidhe lords and ladies fixing them with polite attention. Llyr waved a royal hand at them. “Finish your meal. I wish to have a word with my lovely guest.”

As he turned and strode from the table, Erin followed at his heels. Her mind spun in frantic circles like a dog chasing its tail. Should she do this?

An image flashed through her mind—the pain on Reece's face when she'd told him she planned to marry Llyr.

If she told Llyr yes, she would never again know the dizzying fire of the vampire's touch, the hot pleasure of running her hands over his strong body. She'd never again taste Reece's mouth or feel the erotic sting of his fangs. Or the heavy thrust of his cock.

Everything in her rebelled at the thought of giving all that up.

Yet if she said no to Llyr and stayed with Reece, they could still end up dying at the hands of the Round Table. To say nothing of Geirolf's.

And even if they met those challenges, what about the ones that would follow? If she loved Reece this much after three days, what would it be like after three centuries?

With a little spurt of shame, she remembered his taunt that her plan to marry Llyr had more to do with fear than a need to protect them both. Maybe he had a point. Was she playing a fool's game? Was she courting misery in agreeing to marry Llyr when they both loved someone else?

Then the Sidhe king turned to face her, breathtakingly handsome in his court garb. When he reached out both big hands, she placed her own in them.

What the hell was she going to do?

“What is your answer, Erin?”

She opened her mouth. And realized she had no idea what she was about to say.

But before she could speak, light flashed in the corner of her vision. Erin spun and stepped back, automatically reaching for the gun she no longer carried even as Llyr stepped in front of her.

A tiny glowing cloud appeared in midair a few feet away. As they watched, it dissolved, revealing Geirolf's deceptively human-looking face. He smirked at them from the projection. “Oh, dear. I hope I'm not interrupting anything.”

“As a matter of fact,” Llyr said as he created a spell shield around himself and Erin with a snap his wrist, “you are.”

“Yes, I know.” The demon's grin revealed a mouthful of razor-sharp teeth that would have put a Rottweiler's to shame. To Erin he added, “You have been a busy girl, haven't you? Fucking your way into the Gift with a vampire, then worming a proposal out of the King of the Sidhe. Your work ethic is impressive even by my standards.”

“What do you want, Geirolf?” Llyr growled.

“Actually, it's what
you
want. I've acquired something of yours, and I suspect you'll want it back.”

The king lifted a brow, his expression silently communicating skepticism that Geirolf could possibly have gotten his hands on anything important. “Oh?” His tone was as bored as his face, yet as she stood next to him, Erin could feel his gathering tension.

“Yes, though Erin may be just as happy to have her gone.” Geirolf's face dissolved into an image of Janieda, curled into a miserable ball inside a globe of yellow light. She straightened convulsively, an expression of desperate hope on her face, as though she could see them looking at her. Her lips shaped Llyr's name. “After all,” Geirolf continued in that suggestively oily tone, “it could be awkward sharing the palace with the mistress.”

“If you're about to propose I trade Erin and Champion for Janieda, I suggest you reconsider,” Llyr drawled, though Erin felt him stiffen. “A queen for a consort seems a poor bargain.”

“Only to a man far more shortsighted than any Sidhe king could ever be,” Geirolf said, his image replacing Janieda's. “Consider, if you will, the question of who will be the power in the Mageverse with Avalon gone. You—and your brother. And with my help, soon only you.”

“You propose an alliance?”

Geirolf inclined his head. “It could be advantageous to us both.”

“Then again, perhaps not,” Llyr said coolly. “My people have a saying: He who allies himself with a dragon may well find himself eaten.”

The demon waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. “I have no interest in conquering your kingdom. My taste runs toward richer and less complicated pickings. Bluntly, mortal Earth would be far easier prey. Since you have no interest in those quarters, perhaps we can arrange a treaty: Mageverse Earth and its Sidhe for you, the mortals for me.”

Llyr looked at him a long moment. “It could be an advantageous arrangement.”

Erin threw him a shocked glance. The king prided himself on his ruthless pragmatism, but would he really sacrifice Reece and her if he thought it would benefit his people?

Oh, sweet Jesus, he just might.

Geirolf's gaze was fixed hungrily on her. “But before any treaty can be made, I must have the vampire and the witch. They are the key.”

“I will think on it.” He lifted his hand.

“Llyr!” Erin burst out.

“One hour,” Geirolf said quickly. “You have that long to agree, or your lovely Sidhe consort will find herself the centerpiece of a ceremony she won't enjoy at all.”

Then he winked out.

“You aren't seriously considering allying yourself with that monster?” she demanded furiously.

“Shh!” the king snapped, his hands describing a complicated pattern in the air.

Belatedly remembering her own powers, Erin quickly reached out with a spell. The next instant Reece stood beside her as she erected a magical shield around them both.

“What's going on?” he asked, tensing.

“Geirolf captured Janieda and has threatened to kill her unless the king turns us over to him,” Erin replied tightly. “And he's offered to help him defeat his brother.”

Reece looked at Llyr. “And you're considering this?”

The king shot them a cold look through the glowing barrier she'd created. “Now you're being insulting. Do I look fool enough to enter into any bargain with Geirolf? I'm only strengthening the palace wards against any attempts to eavesdrop.”

Erin glowered at him suspiciously.

Llyr sighed and opened his arms. “Here. Read my intentions, then.”

Cautiously she reached out to him through her shields. He let her no deeper than the surface of his thoughts, yet still she could clearly read that he wanted nothing to do with any offer of the demon's. With a sigh of relief she dropped her shields. “It's all right,” she told Reece.

“As if I'd deal with any creature who'd kidnap and threaten Janieda,” Llyr growled.

“Would someone please bring me up to speed,” Reece demanded impatiently.

“Erin can explain it to you,” Llyr told him. “I must put my guards on alert and find out how he got his hands on my consort.” He swept from the room.

“Janieda's his consort?” Reece snorted. “No wonder she was so hostile.”

“Hostile or not, she doesn't deserve Geirolf.” Erin outlined the situation for him.

He swore. “Are you sure he isn't tempted? That deal would solve an awful lot of his problems.”

“And leave me with one far worse,” Llyr told them, stepping back into the room with a parade of Sidhe courtiers in tow. “As soon as he'd eliminated Avalon and my brother, he'd turn his sights on me. I have no desire to see my people enslaved by such a creature. Assuming he allowed me to even live that long.”

“The nasty thing about Geirolf is, he probably would,” Erin said. “He'd want to enjoy your suffering.”

“But if you will not deal with him, what of Janieda?” asked one of the advisers, a delicate brunette woman in an elaborate iridescent court gown. She looked about forty, which given Sidhe aging rates would make her very old indeed. “You dare not let him sacrifice her. You do not know what spell he would work.”

“I wouldn't do that in any case,” Llyr said. “The question is, how to rescue her?”

“The obvious thing is to set a trap,” Reece pointed out.

Erin nodded as she met the king's eyes grimly. “And we all know what the bait must be.”

“Out of the
question,” Llyr snapped.

“If you appear to comply in turning us over,” Erin pointed out, “you can stage a rescue.”

The king shot her a dark look. “And risk getting you killed in the process? I think not.”

“Be not so hasty,” the brunette woman said. The surrounding advisers gave her a scandalized look at her contradiction of the king, but Llyr's expression was tolerant. “Perhaps we could put a spell on them which would kill this creature without placing them in danger.”

Reece nodded slowly, interested. “Like a booby trap.”

The woman shrugged. “Perhaps. I am not familiar with the term.”

Llyr frowned. “Do you have a particular spell in mind, Grandmother?”

“Not at the moment,” she admitted. “But perhaps if we had more knowledge of this creature and its weaknesses, I could think of one. I remember the battle we fought with Geirolf and his kind, of course, but that was sixteen hundred years ago.” Her mouth drew into a grimace. “My memory is not what it once was.”

“I suspect we'd find the answers we need in Merlin's Grimoire,” Reece said. “Grim would know about Geirolf's people and where they came from. Hell, if they have any weaknesses, he can probably list them alphabetically.”

Llyr lifted a brow. “But to gain access to this book of yours, you would need to return to Avalon.”

Erin stiffened.

Reece shrugged. “I need to do that anyway. I still have to alert the High Council to the threat. Actually, I should have done that when I woke, but I was distracted.” He threw her a dark look.

“But what if—?” She stopped. What if they turned on him? What if they killed him? The idea filled her with pure terror.

“I've got my duty, Erin,” he told her.

The Sidhe king studied him, then nodded slowly. “So you do. Very well, then. I'll transport you.”

“And me,” Erin said firmly.

“Absolutely not,” Reece said in a rough chorus with Llyr's flat “No.”

She glowered at both of them stubbornly. “If you have to cast a spell on both of us, I'll need to be there.”

Reece glowered back. “And what if the Majae's Court decides the simplest solution to the problem is to kill you?”

“Triggering Janieda's murder? I don't think so. Besides, if it comes down to that, I can make my own gate to Avalon.”

Llyr bared his teeth. “Geirolf isn't the only one who can create a spell of containment, Erin.”

“Enough!” his grandmother snapped. “The child has a point about being needed for the spell, and you know it. Take her with you.”

The king turned a regal frown on the old Sidhe. She glowered back at him as Erin tensed. Finally he gave a bad-tempered grunt. “I suppose I can protect her, if it comes to that.”

“It won't,” Reece said coolly. “I can give her whatever protection she needs. But don't you think you need to divert Geirolf first? The deadline he gave you is almost up.”

Erin frowned. “What
are
you going to tell him? He doesn't exactly strike me as trusting.”

Llyr smiled, a chilling stretch of the lips. “The thing about dealing with a creature who specializes in betrayal is that he always expects to be betrayed. All you have to do is suggest you're betraying someone else, and he'll happily swallow the lie whole.”

Erin looked at him for an admiring beat. “Oh, you're good.”

Maybe a little too good,
a wary voice whispered in the back of her mind.

 

Janieda lay at
the bottom of her cage, her mind working frantically as she tried to come up with a way to escape the trap she'd sprung around herself. As she plotted, she held her drooping wings close around her body, trying to present the picture of a thoroughly beaten victim. Everyone always wanted to believe her less than she was. This time she was going to make their poor opinion work to her advantage.

Behind the fragile barrier of her wings, she listened closely as the demon spoke to his mortal henchman.

“The last of the acolytes have drunk from the potion,” the human said. He had developed a faint lisp along with the new fangs that would have been amusing, if not for the hungry way he looked at Janieda. She found herself grateful for her cage. “They're ready to move whenever you give the word.” He licked his bloodless lips. “In fact, they're eager for it.”

Geirolf grinned. “Oh, I'll wager they are. But if they demonstrate a little patience, soon they'll bathe in Maja blood.”

“But now that the Majae have freed the Grimoire…”

The demon made a dismissive gesture. “Don't trouble yourself. It's far too late to do them any good.”

Beneath her wings, Janieda shivered. Horrific creatures. How was she to escape from this place without ending up a meal for one of them? She didn't even know where she was.

Suddenly she heard a familiar, beloved voice. “I have considered your offer…”

Llyr! Instinctively she opened her wings and leaped up.

“…and I agree to your bargain,” the king announced.

Janieda gaped at him in a combination of hope and fear—hope that she might escape after all, and fear for her lover and her people.
Oh, don't trust this creature,
she thought desperately.

Geirolf made a humming sound of anticipation that made her blood chill. “Then send them on, and I'll transport your consort to you.”

“It's not that simple,” Llyr said. “The Maja is surprisingly powerful. I doubt even I could send her anywhere she doesn't want to go. I'll have to strip her of her powers first.”

Geirolf gave him a hungry smile. “Let me into your palace. I'll take care of her.”

Llyr lifted a haughty brow. “I think not. No, there's a better way. She and the vampire have volunteered to set a trap for you. I have told her I'll cast a spell on her that will strip you of your power when you trigger it.”

“But in reality she's the one who'll lose her powers,” Geirolf said. “Clever.” He laughed, the sound rolling over Janieda like a wave of maggots. “Very clever.”

“Of course. I will, however, need time to work the spell.”

The demon sighed. “These things are always time consuming. How long?”

“Let's say five hours or so.”

Geirolf nodded crisply. “Done.”

Oh, Llyr,
Janieda thought in despair as her lover's image disappeared,
what are you doing?

 

Erin and Reece
looked up as Llyr stepped back into the room.

“Did he buy it?” she asked.

The king smiled darkly. “Of course.” Rubbing his hands together briskly, he turned toward Reece. “Now. Where will we find this Grimoire of yours?”

“Wherever it's needed, actually,” Reece said. “It literally has a will of its own.”

“Very well. Think of the substance of it, and I'll use that as an anchor.”

Reece had worked with enough Majae to understand how the process worked, so he obediently began building an image in his mind. For a moment he felt the touch of the Sidhe's thoughts.

The next instant they stood in the ruins of the cell as Grace, Lance, and Arthur gaped at them. Morgana, holding the Grimoire in both hands, glanced up in surprise.

“Reece!” Lance began. “Where the hell have you—?” He broke off, his gaze narrowing as he saw Erin standing by Reece's side.

“King Llyr.” Arthur gave a small, civil half-bow, which the Sidhe returned. “I see you've found our prodigal.”

“Indeed,” Morgana drawled, looking at Erin in a way that made the hair raise on the back of Reece's neck. “Apparently more than one of them. I don't believe I know you, child. And I should.”

Hoping to forestall any unpleasantness, Reece launched into introductions. No sooner had he gotten Erin's name out of his mouth than Grace interrupted. “This is the woman I saw in my vision, Grandmother,” she said.

Llyr glowered at Reece. “Is there anyone who hasn't had a vision involving you?”

Erin frowned. “That's right, Janieda said something about some kind of vision, too, didn't she?”

“That's not a good sign,” Arthur said, leaning against the wall as he studied them.

Correctly interpreting Erin's questioning look, Grace explained, “When a lot of seers start having independent visions about the same situation, we're in trouble.”

“More so than usual, anyway,” Reece put in.

Erin studied her. “So what exactly did you see in this vision, anyway?”

The blond grimaced. “You and Reece, naked and bound on some kind of altar. A big, demonic-looking horned creature was about to plunge a pair of knives into you.”

Erin winced. “You're right—that's not good at all.”

“Do you know who this creature is?” Morgana demanded.

“His name's Geirolf,” Erin said, rubbing absently at a knot of tension gathering in the base of her neck. “He's some kind of demon or alien or something. You know all those Death Cults springing up in the U.S. over the past few months? His work.”

Morgana nodded as she moved to put the massive Grimoire down on the table. “We suspected as much. We knew whoever it was has a great deal of power, but was definitely not Magekind or Sidhe. The creature from Grace's vision seemed a logical suspect.”

Merlin's Grimoire spoke up in a sonorous rumble. “It sounded like Geirolf, based on her description. But for once, I would not have minded being wrong. Of all the Dark Kind, Geirolf was the worst.” Muttering to itself, it added, “And if Merlin had listened to me and killed him sixteen hundred years ago, we wouldn't be in this situation now.”

“I assume,” Morgan said, her eyes narrowing as she looked at Reece, “this Geirolf has something to do with why you made this girl a Maja without the Council's permission.”

Reece knew damn well he'd better make this good. “I was trying to avoid being used in Geirolf's death spell, the one Grace saw in her vision. He plans to sacrifice Erin and me as part of some kind of ritual designed to wipe out the Magekind.” Quickly he explained.

When he finished, there was an appalled silence for several minutes as everyone tried to digest the sequence of events. “You should have come to us at once, Lord Reece,” Morgana growled at last.

Grace snorted. “Really, Grandma, are you that surprised he didn't? The Council isn't exactly known for its tolerance of illegal transformations.”

“Cases like this are why we wait to hear from the couple before passing judgment,” Arthur said. “Sometimes there are good reasons for making a Maja without permission.” He met Reece's eyes. “This was one of them.”

Reece relaxed fractionally. If Arthur gave them his stamp of approval, no one else would quibble. Beside him, he could feel the tension drain from Erin as she, too, realized they were safe. “So what do we do now?”

“Now we get the information to work that spell,” Llyr said, then looked at the Grimoire. “What can you tell us about the demon?”

“First, he's not a demon,” the book said, projecting an image of a floating planet over its pages. The world's thick red cloud cover appeared to seethe, putting Reece in mind of Jupiter. “He and his kind are from another planet in the Mageverse around a star hundreds of light-years away. They are empathic parasites, feeding on violent emotion as well as the very force of life itself.”

“Which is why they like to kill people,” Erin said.

“Preferably in the most violent manner possible,” the Grimoire agreed. “They first arrived on mortal Earth thousands of years ago, when humankind was ripe for the kind of tricks the Dark Kind love to play.” The planet faded away, replaced by the image of an altar and what looked like an Egyptian priest, his hands lifted in a gesture of prayer. “Some of them were worshiped as gods, while others were feared as demons. Love or terror—it didn't matter which—as long as the humans felt something. That was enough to feed the Dark Kind.”

“Until Merlin came along and stuck a stick in their spokes,” Erin said.

“Oh, it wasn't Merlin alone,” the Grimoire said. “No, not even he had that much power. Many Fae came with him to rid Earth of its dark gods. Given the infestation, they knew it would take them all.”

“My people played a role as well,” Llyr told them. “My own father died in that battle.”

“And a good thing they did. It took Fae and Sidhe both to defeat Geirolf and the Dark Kind,” Grim agreed.

“Normally we stayed out of human affairs, but my father told me this time we had to intervene,” Llyr said, his expression brooding. “The Dark Kind would have eventually turned their attention to us. But it was only when Merlin and the Fae arrived that we were able to rid ourselves of them.”

“Even so, it was not an easy fight,” the Grimoire said. The image shifted, revealing ghostly, glowing figures locked in battle over the planet as lightning flashes danced around them. “Eventually, the allies drove the Dark Kind away from Earth and into the Mageverse. Only one managed to hang on, too powerful and stubborn to be banished: Geirolf. It was all Merlin could do to lock him in this cell.”

“Why didn't he just kill him?” Erin asked. “It would have simplified things considerably.”

“That's not how Merlin operated,” Morgana said. “He didn't believe in killing.” Judging from her tone of voice, she didn't agree with that particular stance any more than Erin did.

“I wonder how Geirolf got out?” Arthur said.

Grace shrugged. “He'd had sixteen hundred years to dig at the walls. It would have been surprising if he hadn't created a chink or two.”

“Enough of one to reach into the dreams of a mortal serial killer, anyway,” Erin said. “Once the killer had murdered a few sacrifices for him—”

“Necromancers.” Morgana curled her lip in disgust. “Filthy creatures.”