Night's End (26 page)

“Hunter, have you always lived in the Golden Wood?”

He looked up at me from his plate. “No, young one. I came east, from the Olympic Peninsula. I lived in the heart of the ancient groves there. The trees are so large, their roots sink down to the center of the world, and it rains so much you think you might drown. The trees are so old they've forgotten their names, and there are days where you think the sun is a faerie tale.”

Peyton put down her spoon. “You must be very old, sir.”

Hunter grunted. “As old as the upstart queen. I've watched the yummanii come and go, and watched the forests dwindle. I've watched the turn of the tide as the landscape has shifted. I've watched the cities born, and men die in the woods, and I've seen the rivers change course over time. One day I will return to the Golden Isle, but my time is not yet. I have things here to do, and one of them is to watch over my granddaughter, since her father had to leave.”

He smiled then, and laughed. “You are so solemn, all of you. And well you should be; Myst is a blight. But Myst is not all-powerful, and together, you possess far stronger abilities than she. You need to acknowledge your fear, then dismiss it. Fear will kill you faster than the Shadow Hunters, any day.”

“Have you ever fought them before?” Kaylin asked.

“No, demon. I have not. But I've watched them, seen them feed, watched as they bred slowly but surely. She tried to gather the Wilding Fae to her, many centuries ago, but they would give her no quarter, and the only control she's ever had over them is through entrapment.”

“Like the Snow Hag. We freed her from a snare that Myst had set.”

“Yes, entrapment and slavery. A true leader breeds love, as well as respect, and Myst doesn't have what it takes to inspire love. She's a demagogue. A wayward, temperamental child. Cunning, yes, but still . . . a child who cannot accept her place in the scheme of things. This is why she will fail. She oversteps her reach, and she forgets. Cicely, you must find her heartstone before she realizes that you know she has one. Before it occurs to her that you know where she buried it.”

“After dinner, we'll leave. You said you'll come with us?”

“Yes, but we cannot take a great force—too much chance for notice. Bring your guards, Grieve, the demon, and a couple of your vampire friends.” He gave me a look that said, “Don't argue.”

“Vampires?”

“They are your allies, whether you wish this or not. They can be very useful. I have a feeling . . .”

I didn't want to agree, but he was my grandfather, and without Wrath and Lainule here, I needed an advisor who was blood related.

“Then,” I said, holding out my bowl for a refill on the soup, “I guess I'd better give Lannan a call in a few minutes and have him meet us here.” Ignoring Grieve's disgruntled expression, I once again tried to focus on my friends. This might be our last gathering together, and I wanted to make the most of it that I possibly could.

Chapter 13

With Lannan and a few of his men on the way, we moved into the living room to discuss what the others would do while we were gone. While taking such a small contingent was dangerous, it would attract far more attention to go as a larger group.

“We can set up a protection grid for you.” Ysandra motioned to the members of the Consortium who had joined her. “We'll keep you under our cloak as long as we can. Once you enter the Barrow, the energies there will negate the spell, but we should be able to help you make it through the woods without attracting too much attention.”

Luna leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “I'll let Dorthea send the dead into the town to hunt down the Shadow Hunters and snow weavers. They can feed often, so they should be able to take more of them on.”

Olrick smartly clicked his heels and bowed. “With your leave, I will take a unit of men into the woods and begin hunting down Myst's people.”

Rhiannon motioned to him. “We will go with you. We'll take some of Summer's warriors, too. We may not move as quickly in the snow as you, but we can still make haste.”

“As you will, Your Highness.” Olrick bowed to her. I often wondered just how tired our men got of bowing to us, but it was a tradition we weren't going to be able to break them of, and frankly, given that we truly did need their respect, I had thought the better of trying to put a stop to it.

Peyton shrugged. “I guess I'll stay here and help Ysandra and Luna. I can't make it through the storm very well, I know that much. And I don't want to be a hindrance. So I'll do what I can here.” She was still very quiet, even compared to her usual stoic nature.

“I guess we're settled, then.” Antsy, wishing Lannan would get here so we could start, I walked into the parlor to stretch my legs. Grieve followed behind me, closing the door to give us some privacy.

“Cicely?” His voice echoed with uncertainty. As I held out my arms, he pulled me into his embrace, covering my face with kisses.

“I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry.” He sounded rattled, and I looked up at him, startled by the pain in his expression.

Worried now, I reached up to stroke his face. “What for? What did you do? What's wrong?”

“What's wrong? Everything. Myst . . . the fact that you were supposed to be the Queen of Summer and live in a land of warmth and beauty. . . . I feel like my love drew you back here, and look what happened.”

He held me so tight I almost couldn't breathe. “I blame myself for getting you and your cousin involved in this mess. Chatter and I were assigned to guard you while you were young. I knew you were my Cherish, from before, so I never thought about what loving you now might mean. I almost think it would have been better if I hadn't reminded you of who you were. If I hadn't fallen in love with you all over again.”

I struggled back a step, pushing him by the shoulders so he could get a good look at my face. “Listen to me, and I do mean
listen
. None of this is your fault. We bound ourselves together eons ago. Our love has existed down through time. I've seen the past, and I know that at least once, I killed myself when I was a little girl because I realized I'd been born in the wrong time and you wouldn't be there with me.”

“But everything is a mess.”

“Of course it is. Myst is still alive, and she's the one to ultimately blame.
She
turned you,
she
took over the Summer and Winter Courts,
she
made the halls bleed with the life of your people. And of my people. Rhiannon and I were born for this—you know that. We were destined to take our places as the Queens of Winter and Summer. You certainly aren't to blame for our births.”

“I know, but I can't help but feel . . .” He stopped, and I realized what was going on. But I'd lay odds that Grieve didn't even know.

“You know what's eating you? You feel guilty over the fact that she turned you. Somewhere in there,” I touched my hand to his heart. “Somewhere inside your heart, you really do believe that you could have somehow prevented her from turning you. You think that maybe you could have stopped her from destroying your people if you'd only—”

“If I'd only been smarter . . . stronger . . . had seen her coming.” He finished the sentence for me, as I knew he would.

“The fact is, love, you couldn't have done a damned thing. She took everybody by surprise. If she was able to pull a fast one on Lainule and Wrath, how can you believe—for even one minute—that you could have made a difference? She's strong. Not invincible, but Hunter is right—she's cunning. And old. Add in that insatiable drive for power she has, as well as the jealousy she feels, and it makes her the most dangerous foe we're ever likely to face. And that doesn't even begin to factor in her thirst for revenge against me.” I smiled then, and though it felt pale, at least it was a smile.

“Grieve, my sweet, Myst was set up for this. She was bred for it. When Geoffrey turned her, he miscalculated. He turned an unstable member of the Dark Fae who had a thirst for power. How could Myst
not
be the adversary she is, given her breeding?”

Grieve looked at me for a moment; then his shoulders relaxed and he pulled me down onto the sofa with him, wrapping his arm around my shoulder. “This is the strangest life. . . .”

“And I'm the strangest wife you could probably ever have.” I snuggled into his arm, resting my head on his shoulder. “So, when this is all over and done with, what do we do? Settle into a long, happy, boring life?”

Laughing, Grieve planted a kiss on my forehead. “Life with you could never be boring. No, I foresee children . . . ruling your kingdom—”

“Our kingdom.”

“
Our
kingdom. You will learn our customs and we will try to learn yours. And if Lannan tries to touch you again, I will stake him through the heart. Or better yet, I'll cut off his balls and feed them to the one pet Shadow Hunter I'll have kept on the end of a leash. Or . . . if you need him, we will figure out a way to make it work.” Grieve chuckled. “You, my sweet, are the most beautiful Ice Queen there could ever be.”

“The Snow Queen . . .” I mused. “With a heart of ice and a silver dagger in hand.”

Grieve placed his hand over my heart. “You may run cold now, the transformation changed your body—this is true—but your heart is as hot and passionate as the sun.” He pulled me close and his mouth met mine, lingering as he gently bit my bottom lip and worried it with his sharp, razor teeth.

I murmured his name, my breath meeting his, and he laid me back onto the sofa, shifting so he was on top of me. The weight of his body was warm and inviting, sending spirals of hunger through my legs, torso, deep into my cunt. I wanted him, now. We were facing a harsh journey, and if we didn't return, I wanted the memory of one last passionate night with my love.

“Do we have time?” Grieve's whisper was so soft I could barely hear it.

“I don't care. They can wait. I want you now.” I struggled to pull down my jeans. The corset be damned—it could stay on, but as Grieve lifted up, I unzipped my pants and pushed them down past my knees, then slid one leg out to drape over the edge of the sofa. My ass rubbed gently against the afghan covering the leather and itched ever so slightly against my skin, both irritating me and yet, arousing me further. My nipples pressed against the lace of my strapless bra, chafing, and I wanted to tear both bra and corset off, to free my breasts for Grieve to bite, to suck, to grab hold and revel in.

He slid his hand down between my legs, fingering me, sliding one finger along my clit as it engorged, pressuring me to catch my breath. He began to rub, slowly at first, then fast, twirling his fingers lightly so that I didn't have time to breathe between the spasms that began to drive me harder and higher. As I wrapped my arms around his back, his jacket and tunic vanished and my hands were sliding along his smooth skin, feeling the muscles ripple beneath the taut flesh. I trailed my touch down to his butt—his pants vanished—and grabbed hold of his ass, cupping his cheeks firmly in my hands as he pressed against me.

The smell of his body—of spruce and cold northern woods, of cinnamon and bonfires from the darkest night—sent me reeling. He intoxicated me, made me want to lose myself in his embrace, to let him do whatever he wanted with me. I was his to play, to stroke, to manipulate, and the knowledge that he wanted me made me hotter than hell. Desire was an aphrodisiac, and being the object of desire, a heady drug.

“Hold still,” he ordered, and I froze, obeying. Three fingers slid inside me, driving with a deep pulse, widening me up, making me hungry. I wanted his cock, plunging into me to fill me thick and full with his hot, salty cum. As he thrust his fingers in and out of my pussy, I could feel the liquid sliding around his hand, along my labia, down the sides of my cunt.

I gasped as he suddenly pulled away, but before I could look up, his head was between my thighs, his tongue playing across me, licking, sucking, biting ever so slightly. The sting from his teeth sent me higher and I bucked, my legs pushing upward, but Grieve grabbed the sides of my hips and held me firm as he kept going.

The pressure grew. I tried to moderate my breathing but then he rose over me, and the look on his face was dark and fierce, his eyes a swirl of stars against their inky background. His cock stood firm, thick and rigid, a few drops of pre-cum glistening on the tip of it. I struggled to sit up, and he lifted me, his hands sliding under my arms.

I quickly slid around, on my hands and knees, so I was facing his shaft, and as he braced against the back of the sofa, I took his rod in one hand and guided the pulsing flesh into my mouth, pressing my lips together so that he had to push hard to force himself through them. I tightened, creating a delicious suction around the head of his penis, and began to trace my tongue around the salty flesh, reveling in the feel as he expanded my mouth.

Grieve moaned, his head dropping back, his platinum hair draping down his back. I closed my eyes and began to take him deeper as he thrust gently with his hips. I relaxed my throat as I swallowed him down, my head bobbing as I sucked, drawing back and then forward again as I slid along the length of his cock, stopping to tickle the ridge with my tongue before wrapping it around him.

His breathing increased as I sped up, and he fisted my hair, letting out a strangled cry as I matched the pulse of his heartbeat, milking him with my lips, not letting him rest.

His cock began to twitch, and I could feel he was on the edge, so I sucked harder, and then, with one deep thrust, he came, filling my mouth with his salty seed. I swallowed, caught in the passion, drawing every drop out onto my tongue and licking him clean. A moment later, he lifted me up and tipped me back, still ready to go. I opened my thighs. Nothing else existed—nothing but Grieve and me, and this moment.

His eyes were glimmering now, a triumphant expression on his face, and he drove down, his cock sliding deep inside me, penetrating to the hilt. As my cunt expanded to welcome him in, he brushed against my clit, and I came, sharp and hard, not expecting it yet. I let out a sharp cry, and then he was fucking me quickly, driving deep with each thrust.

“Fuck me. Fuck me hard. Do anything you want to me.” I shifted as the feel of his body against mine once more began to send me spiraling. He was my prince, my lover, my deadly protector, and he had died for me—with me. I began to come again, the waves of orgasm spread through me in long concentric ripples, and once again I lost myself in the love of my wounded king.

Lannan was waiting in the living room as Grieve and I came out of the parlor, a smug look on his face. I stared at him, and it hit me like a ton of bricks. I had a love-hate affair going on with the vampire, and he was in my life for good or ill, regardless of how I felt about it.

He stepped forward, stopped inches from me, then gave me a faux bow, his lip curling up at one edge. He was so close that I could have felt his breath on me, if he were to breathe. But he was cold, still, no pulse, no beat of the heart. I raised my eyes, stared into his face. He caught my gaze, leaned down so a mere fraction of space separated our lips.