Stolen Away (12 page)

It was like that all day.

The courtiers surrounded me, taunted me, called the beetles from under the carpets to crawl over my feet while I tried not to scream. Everyone stared at me. At least I wasn’t starving to death on top of it. My stomach had stopped hurting and my throat didn’t feel like it was on fire all the time. I only saw Eldric once when he came to whisper
something in a woman’s ear until she followed him, nibbling his neck.

That night, pretty serving girls and boys in short tunics paraded in from the kitchens with another feast. The lanterns were lit, the lamps dusted, and musicians sat in one corner with silver drums and fiddles carved out of jade and obsidian. The music they made was unlike anything I’d ever heard before, surreal and lovely: lime and lightning, strawberry shortcake, and the forest at night. Pipes were stuffed with flowers and smoked. The Grey Ladies danced until snow fell around them.

And then it all unraveled slowly, like a silk shawl coming apart at the fringes. Couples and threesomes drifted off into the scented shadows, all bare skin and tongues. I didn’t consider myself a prude, but there were just some things I didn’t need to see. Fae bums were one of them.

I sat with my knees drawn up, trying to make myself as small and invisible as I could. I was dizzy from the smoke. The roots looked like they were moving, slithering, and curling. Eyes from the faces carved into the walls winked at me. The music made me feel loose, like I was a candle melting into nothing. The others circled in an old-fashioned waltz. It was lovely and wrong; feet moved too fast or weren’t feet at all; eyes went black from lid to lid, or lavender and silver. It was a long time before the hall cleared and there was only the sweet scent of burning poppies and hobs carrying out empty platters and discarded petticoats.

That was part of the reason why I didn’t react when I first saw him. I just didn’t think he was real.

Lucas.

He crouched beside me, finger to his lips in warning. His green eyes searched the shadows. “Are you hurt? Can you walk?”

I got to my feet. He caught at the chain to keep it from rattling and it seared his skin. I winced. “Sorry.”

He handed me a long key on a red ribbon. “Hurry.”

“Hey, Strahan’s looking for a ribbon.” My hands were suddenly sweaty and clumsy, but I managed to get the cuff unlocked. I massaged my wrist. “Now what?” I asked dubiously. He was utterly alone, no warriors, no guards, just a lone rescuer and his sword.

He smiled at me, sure of himself. “Now we go home.”

He took my hand in his and his palm was warm and rough. He blinked at me, bewildered. I blinked back. He took my hands, stared at them as if they weren’t doing what they were supposed to do. “Something’s wrong.” He closed his eyes briefly, as if he was in pain. “You ate.”

“So?”

“So, it breaks my magic, what little I have. I can’t walk the in-between with you now.”

I nodded over at Winifreda. “But she said it wouldn’t matter.”

He looked at her grimly, then back at me. “She lied.” He looked disgusted. “She’s one of his.”

“What?
What?
”

Winifreda laughed softly, prettily, and rose to her feet. She moved with a languid grace completely at odds with eyes red from crying, and a wretched, wounded expression. She fluttered her wings once and they unfurled, unblemished, soft as satin. Not a single rip or tear, not even a rough patch. She stepped away from the damp wall, shaking her chains free. Her wrists were raw, that much she hadn’t been able to avoid.

I just stared at her stammering. “But … but …”

She called out in the odd lyrical language and the crow-guards rushed in, black armor flashing dully.

Lucas stepped partly in front of me, lifting his sword. “Eloise, run.”

“Oh right, I’m just going to leave you here,” I said. “Besides, I tried running before and it didn’t work. At all.”

Winifreda shook her hair free, slowly, as if she was in some damn shampoo commercial. I wanted to scratch her eyes right out of her delicate little head. I’d trusted her, felt sorry for her, promised myself that I’d get her out somehow.

“Bitch.”

Her eyes flared. “Careful, little morsel.”

“What should we do now?” I whispered to Lucas, taking one of the daggers from his belt even though I wasn’t sure how to use it.

Winifreda licked her lips. “And the Richelieu whelp. My lord will be well pleased.”

“This is bad,” I said as the crow-brethren advanced. “This is very, very bad.” I brandished the dagger threateningly and nearly took off Lucas’s left ear.

“Careful!” He jumped.

“Sorry.” I was such an idiot. Only I would totally bungle a perfectly good rescue. Damn those chocolate croissants. Damn food altogether. We pressed our backs to the wall, angled ourselves shoulder to shoulder. Fear had my stomach burning.

“Lucas, you should probably get out of here.”

“I won’t leave you either.”

“I’m sure that’s very noble and heroic,” I said. “But under the circumstances, it’s also stupid. There’s no use in you getting caught too.”

“No.”

“My lord,” Winifreda purred as Strahan entered from a back archway, dressed in a silk dressing gown. “A gift for you.”

When he saw Lucas and me, his austere face shone with pleasure. It was nearly indecent. He chuckled and it was like cream and honey wine. “Well done, love,” he said. “Well done.” He took an apple from a basket on the table and bit into it. The crunch was loud, sharp. “Take them.”

Lucas fought off two guards with one stroke, took an arm off with another. Black feathers filled the air. I jabbed out with my knife like a temperamental honeybee. Not terribly effective, but at least I didn’t get swatted.

We were so badly outnumbered it was ridiculous. I dropped the knife and grabbed the chain instead, swinging it over my head like a lasso. It created a small circle around us, as long as I was careful not to touch Lucas with it, or knock his sword out of his hand.

More guards rushed in, like crows and beetles and fire ants at a picnic.

“I’m so taking more self-defense classes when I get home. The ones at the community center didn’t cover this.” My corset dug into my ribs. I swung the chain harder, ignoring the twinges in my muscles.

Lucas was bleeding into the handwoven carpets. His tunic was in shreds, his hair damp with sweat. The stones were cold and unyielding at our backs. He dropped to his knees with a grunt of pain, blood staining what was left of his sleeve.

“Hang on,” I told him and then leaped forward so I was right behind him, one leg on either side. I swung faster and wider. My shoulders were screaming now, but I gritted my teeth against the pain.

The guards froze, waiting me out. One of them glanced at Strahan for orders. I made sure the chain grazed him, singeing his cheek. “Ha!” They eased back a few more steps. Winifreda was pouting. Strahan didn’t look concerned, but not nearly as pleased either.

“You can’t keep this up indefinitely,” he called out in his cultured tones, sounding vaguely bored. I hated that he
was right. I knew I couldn’t keep my arm up much longer, and then they’d swarm us. They might not kill me. I wasn’t much good as a hostage if I was dead, after all; but I had no doubt I’d end up in some dark hole with rats and spiders. And I didn’t know what they’d do to Lucas, run him through or torture him. There was definitely a score to settle there.

“You let him go,” I said, sweat dripping down the side of my face. “You let him go free and I’ll put this down.”

He shook his head, leaned against a table. “My dear girl, you’re in no position to give orders.”

I kept the chain moving, though the arc was sagging. “I might be tired, Strahan,” I said with as much haughty disdain as I could manage. “But I bet I can reach that pretty face of yours before they take me down.”

“Not with a sword through your throat.”

“Maybe not, but I wouldn’t be much leverage then, would I? Come Samhain you won’t have a single advantage.” Apparently fear and fatigue was making me shoot my mouth off.

Lucas groaned. “Eloise, leave me.”

I ignored him.

Strahan lifted an eyebrow. “I must say you are proving more interesting even than I first thought.”

Winifreda sniffed. “She was pitifully easy to fool.”

“Be that as it may.” He tossed the apple core away. “Enough of these games.” He motioned to the guards choking the hall. “These men will die for me. Now put down that silly toy.”

My arm was starting to go numb, and I was out of options.

“Get the hell away from my niece.”

I didn’t know where she came from. She was just suddenly there, regal in a green velvet gown with red cardinals circling over her head.

“Aunt Antonia!” I faltered, suddenly just a normal girl again, in frilly white skirts swinging a chain over her head and feeling stupid. She glanced at me, smiled faintly. There were iron bangles around her wrists and an iron torc necklace at her throat. Her tattoo of ivy leaves wound its way down her left arm, like mine.

“Antonia,” Strahan said and there were so many emotions in that one word I couldn’t begin to decipher them all. Winifreda glanced at him, frowning. “You have something of mine.”

“That old thing,” Antonia scoffed. “I tossed it away years ago. Did you really think I’d want to be reminded of you?”

“You had better be lying, woman.”

She nearly smiled. “So that’s your weakness,” she said. “The ribbon.”

He snarled, advanced.

“You’re not to go near Eloise again.” Antonia stepped closer to me. “Ever.”

The chain clanged when I dropped it. Lucas pushed himself stiffly to his feet, using his sword to hold himself up.
“Antonia,” I babbled with relief. “I’m so sorry. I ate the food. It’s totally my fault.”

“This is
not
your fault,” she said gently before lifting her hand and slapping me right in the chest, pressing the medallion into my skin. “Go home, Eloise.”

“Run!”

Isadora sounded frantic, but she was so small that a stray cat or an angry pigeon might be enough to worry her. I looked over my shoulder, wondering how long Devin was going to stay mad at me.

And then it made perfect sense why Isadora was freaking.

Perfect sense.

My feet were moving before my brain had caught up. There was a buzzing in the air, menacing and strange. It sent tingles across the back of my neck.

Apparently, Isadora wasn’t mates with the other Fae. Especially not the tiny flower Fae riding the back of wasps and hornets and screeching at us. They sat in saddles embroidered with sequins, the wasps obeying their every signal.
Their arrows looked more like silver needles than any feathered and sharpened arrow I’d ever seen. One of them sliced the air near my ear.

“Shite!”

“Don’t let them hit you,” Isadora warned.

“Well, duh!”

I ducked and ran faster, legs pumping madly until my calves felt like rocks and my lungs were filled with molten lava. Devin was just up ahead, totally oblivious to the swarm of angry Fae coming up right behind him.

“Dev!” I hollered. “Move it!”

He turned on one scuffed Converse and rolled his eyes. “What now?” He blinked, blinked again. “What the f—”

I grabbed his sleeve and dragged him along with me.

“What the hell are those things?” Needles gleamed in the grass by our feet.

I yanked harder. “Run away now. Talk later.”

The wasps were quick and there were enough of them to make me anxious, even without their demented riders. Fear sat like a lump of dry bread in my throat, choking me. An arrow pinched into the back of my arm. “Ouch! Bollocks!” I pulled it out, tossed it aside.

Isadora was sweaty and furious and very unfairylike. “You have to run faster.”

“I can’t! I don’t have wings, in case you hadn’t noticed!” I panted, and then swore when another arrow bit into my elbow. “Those things
hurt
.”

Devin swatted one off the back of his neck. “Wasps hate water,” he said, opening his knapsack, scattering loose change and chocolate bar wrappers as he searched for a bottle of water. He jogged backward, squeezing the plastic bottle so the water squirted out. One of the wasps lost control of its wet wings, a lime green fairy somersaulted in midair with a similar problem. The rest just moved into some kind of formation, like they were some military insect battalion.

“Now you’ve made them mad!”

“Shit! Shit!” He threw the bottle at them and then went back to running as fast as he could.

“Get inside somewhere,” Isadora said before tossing insults behind her. “Son of gopher dung! Goat tick!” She dove behind a garbage can to avoid being hit. “I need my bloody sword!”

“Eloise’s apartment,” I wheezed, forgetting to use the British term “flat.” We passed the playground. “It’s closest.”

People were looking at us as if we were insane, which we probably were. All they saw were two teenagers running and waving their arms at nothing. Eyes narrowed disapprovingly and the word “drugs” was muttered more than once. My shoulders were beginning to make me feel like a hedgehog. And I was light-headed, a little faint. Devin was a weird gray-green color, even with his dark skin.

“I feel funny,” he slurred. I squeezed his hand. My tongue felt too thick in my mouth and it was hard to talk.

We hurled ourselves across the street, ducking into the
alley toward the side doors, since they were closest. I’d never noticed how heavy they were. Devin tried to pull on the handle and lost his balance. Isadora shot straight up the wall of windows until she found an open one and disappeared inside.

He slumped against the wall, shaking. “I don’t feel so good, Jo.”

“Me neither,” I croaked. “We’ll be okay.” I kept repeating it because it had to be true. “We’ll be okay.”

We both hung from the door handle, trying to use gravity to make us heavier. Dropping like a stone was about the only power either of us had at the moment. The door creaked open. Wasps came around the corner, their savage riders spotting us with high-pitched war whoops.

We tipped over like dominoes, me into Devin and Devin through the narrow doorway. Needles clattered into the window. Devin grunted, trying to pull me inside. The heavy door swung shut on our legs. I was so tired, I was seeing double.