One Thousand Kisses (25 page)

“I don’t hate you.” If she hadn’t hated him after his hard-headedness had nearly cost her her sister five years ago, after he’d dragged her to humanspace on a vengeance quest—after he’d rejected her when she begged for sex—he was pretty safe.

“She’s teeny,” the dark-haired woman observed. “A little doll.”

The same odor that had oozed off the unconscious man outside clouded around Embor and everyone at the table. They were drunk. Completely sloshed.

Ani fell into the empty chair with a bump.

“Embor, you need to tell me exactly what happened after you left.” Including how he came to be intimate with the woman. Was she the reason he never sought partners? If he’d pledged himself to a Drakhmore, he had no business promising Ani three days of pleasure.

Dammit.

A sinewy hand grabbed hers. Ani turned to see the woman perched on the next chair. Blood spattered the top of her dress, and a freshly healed wound glared pink on her shoulder. “I’m Gret.”

“Anisette of Clan Serendipity,” she said, freeing her hand. “Are you hurt?”

“This old thing?” She rubbed the scar. “I got shot. No big.”

“Someone shot you?” Ani’s stomach fluttered. Tali had told her fairies had ways of dealing with human weapons, but she’d taken great pleasure in withholding further information since Ani didn’t have clearance. “Is anyone else hurt?”

Gret waved a vague hand at the others. “They’re fine. You should see the other guys. Em didn’t even bother with globes. You’re so lucky.”

“At this particular moment, I don’t consider myself lucky.” She considered herself confused and in over her head.

“But you are,” Gret insisted, without a flicker of umbrage, though Embor had kissed them both. “He told us all about you.”

Embor rested against the table, his long legs crossed, and drank straight from a bottle. “I told you she was beautiful. She’s nice too.”

“You could do worse,” Horace said. “Or better.”

Ani frowned. Never mind the kissing and the alcohol. Embor’s behavior was unnatural. She’d witnessed the antics of drunken humans and a few drunken fairies, and this didn’t match. Why would he overindulge in intoxicants—ever? Canoodle with women banned from Court? Delay his mission in order to celebrate?

It wasn’t like him, was it? She didn’t really know Embor. She didn’t know about his assets, his plans or his treaty with Clan Drakhmore.

He drank from the whiskey bottle almost reflexively. Licking a droplet off his bottom lip, he offered her the beverage. “Join us.”

“No, thank you.” She pushed it away.

“Drink, drink, drink!” everyone at the table chanted.

Embor rubbed the bottle’s mouth against her lips, his eyes hooded. The glass was moist and slick. “Open your mouth, Anisette. Celebrate with me.”

A sip, if it would please him. Ani parted her lips, and Embor tipped the bottle between them. Harsh liquid burned her throat. She wasn’t sure she liked it.

He stood before her, cupped her chin and tilted her face up. “Take more.”

“I…”

She shouldn’t have given him the opening. He slid the glass between her lips and smiled.

Whiskey filled her mouth, overflowing down her chin. His hand secured the back of her head. The bottle hit her back teeth, cold and dangerous.

In his loose trousers, he sported an obvious erection.

Ani coughed and gagged, twisting out of his grasp. Her eyes watered as liquor dampened her shirt front.

“I said no.” A little shivery, she knocked the bottle aside. “Why are you doing this?”

He squatted and slid his hands up her arms. “Don’t you understand what this means? We can take Milshadred to Court, and it will solve everything. It’s over.”

“Then why don’t you take her to Court?” Her fingers pressed his wrists. Again she noted the slow, erratic pulse. His pupils were dilated more than the inconsistent lighting could account for. Beside them, Gret retrieved the contested bottle of whiskey and began to gulp it like water.

He held up a finger. “First we celebrate.”

“More?” A man handed Embor a full bottle.

Embor straightened, his hand on Ani’s shoulder, and raised it high. “To vanquishing evil!”

“Drink, drink, drink!” As Ani watched, everyone at the table except for herself and Milshadred guzzled intoxicants. Ani had never been drunk, but Tali assured her fairies had no head for human libations. A little went a long way, and the aftereffects were intense.

Master Fey’s tail fuzzed to twice its normal size. He arched his back, hissing at Milshadred.

“Back off, cat.” The old fairy thumped her chair farther from the table. “Nothing you can do now.”

“What do you mean?” Ani’s gaze trapped Milshadred’s. “Nothing we can do about what?”

Milshadred shook her head. “Look, sweetness, you don’t want to be mixed up in this. Why don’t you use your tooth to transport home where you belong?”

A fairy at the other end of the table lurched sideways and vomited. The rest laughed.

Ani took the bottle from Embor. “You’ve had enough.”

“No.” He shook back his long hair. “I need more.”

“Drink, drink, drink!” Horace and Gret crowed. Somebody handed Embor another bottle.

On a hunch, Ani checked Gret’s pulse. Slow and erratic. The woman smiled at her.

“Lucky,” she slurred. “I bet you can coach him out of the one hundreds. What I wouldn’t give to try a four hundred and ten with that man. No offense.”

“None taken.” What exactly had Embor told his companions about Ani?

“Don’t be mad at him. It didn’t mean anything,” Gret called after her as Ani advanced on Milshadred. Master Fey’s tail whipped back and forth.

“What’s wrong with them?” she demanded.

Milshadred gazed at her, rheumy eyes wide. “They’re assholes?”

Ani stuck her hands on her hips. “You did this, didn’t you?”

“Not me, chickie.” Milshadred gave her a tight-lipped smile. “I’m a washed-up agent trying to save her own skin. I’ve been in humanspace too long to have any magic left.”

The cat emitted an ugly snarl. “Mrow.”

“The cat disagrees. So this is magic?” Ani sorted through spells in her mind, wondering what could compel fairies to drink and engage in licentious behavior. No magic she’d been taught—or that was authorized—came to mind. “I’d appreciate it if you could tell me what spell was used.”

“I didn’t say this was magic.”

The cat growled.

“Yes, you did,” Ani corrected.

“Hell. I’m too old for this crap.” Milshadred sighed. “After I rescued you, cat, you do this to me? I saved your butt from the gnomes.”

Quick as a skink, the cat leapt at Milshadred, scratched her chin and bounced to the floor.

“You little shit,” Milshadred exclaimed. “He attacked me.”

Ani retrieved her purse and pulled out the baggie of healing globes. She couldn’t force Milshadred to tell the truth. Only Jake could do that, and his magic went against everything the Doctrine of Ethical Magic Use stood for. Jake and Tali’s contract required Jake to give up magic, considering he could lose control and rip holes in the world.

However, Ani ought to be able to repair whatever had affected Embor and his cohorts. With a disdainful glance at Milshadred, she extracted a tiny orb and approached Embor.

“Your hand, please,” she said in her best healer’s voice.

Embor clasped her fingers with a seductive grin that was so out of place on his stern countenance. His grey eyes twinkled. Ani realized he had, of all things, dimples in each cheek. Dimples. On the Primary. It was almost absurd.

For a moment, she wondered what it would be like if he were this relaxed due to natural causes. What could make him let go of his worries, or was it impossible for a man in his position to be carefree?

“You’ve reconsidered.” He twirled her around, barely stumbling. “The moon is full. Come outside with me.”

She placed a finger over his lips. “Not now.”

He sucked her fingertip, curling her insides. Before she could get distracted, she squeezed the healing globe. A dark red miasma of warped magic clouded his mind. It bore no resemblance to the globe dependence also there. She’d never seen anything like it. Here in humanspace, she didn’t have enough power to analyze it. She’d be lucky if she could remove it.

Using every smidgen of magic from the globe and her skill as a healer, she cleansed the tainted magic from his system. His ailment felt a bit like psychosis, but also like fever. Embor’s psyche returned to the patchy blackness of withdrawals with a mist of intoxicant.

She released him with a shudder as the fever left her too.

Embor sank into a chair, hand to his head. “Wash going on?”

“I was hoping you could tell me.” How had Milshadred inflicted everyone with twisted magic, and why were they all on this island?

“I…Anisette…” His gaze fell on Milshadred. “Wash she doing here? I hate her.”

“You captured her.”

He blinked. “I did?”

“Idiot,” Milshadred muttered.

When Embor waved away the liquor Gret offered, Ani felt confident she’d removed the bad magic. Her cure, though, had ceased to cloak the effects of the alcohol. She couldn’t remedy fever and drunkenness with a single globe.

Embor slumped onto the table and began to snore.

Goodness. How many healing globes were in her kit? She’d need to tend everyone. Handling the fever would take everything she had. Their overindulgence would have to be rectified by nature. Hopefully none of them had ingested enough alcohol for it to be hazardous.

One by one, Ani drove the strange compulsion from the fairies’ minds. A few needed extra purging, and several had physical injuries. She worked as quickly as possible and reinforced Milshadred’s bonds several times. If the Torvals returned, Ani doubted she could prevent them from releasing Milshadred or harming anyone. She’d packed offensive globes, but her combat training was limited.

One thing her task confirmed was that these people were, indeed, Fey. If the bald man was to be trusted, they were Drakhmores. It explained why Gret seemed familiar. She looked like Jake.

However, it didn’t explain why the Drakhmores were Embor’s assets. The clan had been banned from Court for almost forty years. Ani and Embor would have much to discuss when he woke from his stupor.

Once everyone had been treated, two healing globes remained. Snores filled the air and the occasional grumble of someone talking in his sleep.

“You gonna heal this cat scratch before it turns septic?” Milshadred asked her.

The agent had offered any number of unhelpful comments during the healing marathon. Ani sank into a chair near Milshadred and rested her head on her hands. “It doesn’t look bad.”

“Cat claws are nasty.”

“I’m sure Master Fey had reason to believe you deserved it.” The next phase of her rescue effort would involve relocating the Drakhmores, Embor and Milshadred somewhere safer. Ani was so tired after the healing, all she could think about was a nap. “Would you care to tell me why he reacted that way to you?”

“He’s a cat. They’re freaks.”

Master Fey claimed Milshadred and her sibs had mistreated him. If that weren’t sacrilegious enough, they’d tortured Embor, murdered Court employees, threatened the lives of Tali and Jake and introduced a pack of gnomes into the human populace that could have done irreparable damage to the Policy of Discretion.

Moreover, Milshadred seemed to be a very disagreeable person.

If Ani used one of her remaining globes on the old woman, would she be more cooperative? Or should she try to neutralize the alcohol in Embor’s system so he could help her figure out what to do? Of course, once he returned to himself, he’d instruct her to sit in a corner while he handled everything.

Wouldn’t it be nice if there was nothing for him to handle when he woke? Wouldn’t it be nice if she could prove her worth?

Ani studied Milshadred. The two of them were essentially alone except for Master Fey. If the building hadn’t collapsed and the Torvals hadn’t returned, their location would do for another ten minutes. Ani would cross-examine Milshadred before starting the next phase of the rescue.

“I’d like to know what happened here,” she told the agent.

“Wouldn’t we all.” Milshadred grimaced. “Look, you’re about to try to force information out of me, and honestly? You don’t have the guts.”

“You’re wrong.” Ani drew an agony globe out of her purse and inspected its purplish surface. “There’s so much at stake. You can’t possibly realize—”

“I realize more than you think.” Milshadred’s attitude dared Ani to use the globe. “Let me save us both some time. Let me go, and I’ll tell you everything. I’ll tell you things you don’t even realize you should ask.”

“Like what?”

“I’m tied up so tightly my mouth doesn’t work. Sorry.”

Ani covered a yawn with her hand, forcing herself to remain alert. “If I let you go, it will defeat Embor’s purpose for coming here. He’d never forgive me.”

“He’ll forgive you anything.” Milshadred placed a peculiar emphasis on each word.