The Soul Stealer (26 page)

Andrew looked pensive for a moment and then smiled again. “You have a lot to learn about your magical powers and how to use them, my friend. They’re not quite what you thought they’d be, are they?”

“I realized that last night.”

“I could teach you, if you like. I have an arsenal of tricks.” Andrew’s words didn’t hold any innuendo. “To be our leader in the future means you’ll need to hold your own with other faeries, or they won’t respect you.”

Hunter shook his head. “I’m not the last faery prince. It’s just an old tale; it’s not my destiny to lead them. As you just pointed out, I don’t even know how to use my magic, and quite honestly I’m not sure I’m very powerful at all, as compared to you, or any other faery here. I thought bonding with Malia was the key to gaining true magical power, but it hasn’t made a difference,” he said with a sigh. “I’ve learned most of my magic from books, and used science and technology to supplement the magic I didn’t know. I don’t think that approach is what your army of faeries is looking for in their prince.”

“Hmmm,” Andrew murmured as he leaned against a high-backed, satin chair. “Actually, it might be just what we need. We’re an ancient people with antiquated ways. We would benefit from someone who could lead us into the future with a mixture of magic and technology, who understands the way of the human world better than we do. You could use your knowledge to save our race from extinction and resurrect our way of life in the Otherworld.”

“Andrew, I’m sorry, but it’s not a responsibility I want. Not for me, or for Malia.” Hunter looked away, unable to meet Andrew’s hopeful eyes.

Andrew sighed and then went over to a large metal box on a nearby table. He pulled a leather-bound journal out of the chest and walked back to Hunter. “I must confess that I lied to you. Shocking, I know,” Andrew said with a smile. “You see, I did know your mother quite well.”

Hunter’s eyes widened.

“She was my cousin, and my dearest friend. My father was her tutor. It broke my heart when she was captured. I tried to rescue her, but it was too late. She had already been incinerated, along with the rest of our family.” Andrew looked away with a pained expression on his face, and then his unsettling, crystal blue eyes focused on Hunter again. “I tried to save everything I could of our family’s belongings and especially of Tatiana’s personal things before the humans burned our home to the ground. I know she would want you to have this.” He put the journal into Hunter’s hands. It looked old and the pages were yellow. “It’s her diary, and I believe there are letters to you in it. You were her light, and she had great hopes for her little boy. We all did back then,” Andrew said with a touch to Hunter’s shoulder. “I still do.”

Hunter sucked in his breath and looked at the journal. He shut his eyes for a moment but then opened them as a thought occurred to him. “If you’re my mother’s cousin, and the last full-blooded faery in the Oberon lineage, doesn’t that make you the last faery prince, and not me?”

“Some would say so,” Andrew agreed with a serious nod but then smiled in his mischievous way. “But most who know me would say I am not, especially when they meet you, my darling prince. . . and cousin.” He patted Hunter’s hand that held the journal.

Hunter shook his head in denial.

“You are a prince, Hunter, from a line of proud monarchs who ruled justly and lovingly over our kingdom. You are the last true Oberon who can take their legacy and make it something noble again. Even your father knows it, which is why he kept you prisoner all these years, and why he wants you dead now. He’s afraid of you, of what you’re destined to become,” Andrew said as he stood beside Hunter. “I am no nobleman, and you know that. I am a prankster and a magician. If it were my destiny to be the last faery prince who restores our kingdom, don’t you think I would have done something about it by now?”

Hunter looked over at Andrew, knowing his words were true. The realization sent a deep fear through his heart.

“But I can help you,” Andrew said with a slight bow. “I can tutor you in magic the way my father taught Tatiana to prepare her to be queen. That’s what my side of the family does. We are the teachers and the counselors, while the leaders come from your side of the family. It’s been that way for thousands of years.”

Again Hunter shook his head in denial and looked away from Andrew.

“Don’t you find it interesting that you came to me, of all people, for help? Do you think that was mere luck or coincidence? You see, I’ve been waiting for you to find me, as I knew you would, eventually,” Andrew said, and then he stepped away from Hunter and bowed. “I shall leave you now, my prince. Please feel free to stay in my sanctuary for as long as you wish, and take your time going through the Oberon heirlooms. They rightfully belong to you, not me. I hope they’ll stir up some memories of the heritage you have kept hidden over the years, and make you realize how important you are to our people, and to me.” He glided to the door and left, shutting it behind him.

Hunter looked down at the book in his hand and then over to the chest, not sure he wanted to know what was in them. Perhaps if he just walked away and didn’t read his mother’s journal, it would all go away. Instead, he took a deep breath and sat in the chair and opened her diary. She deserved to have her voice heard after more than forty years of silence.

Tears flowed down his cheeks as Hunter closed his mother’s diary. The light through the windows had dimmed long ago, but he wasn’t sure what time it was, or even if it was the same day. He had been so engrossed in her words. Hunter closed his eyes and put his hands to his face, letting the tears fall. Before today, he had only pieces of memory of his mother: the touch of her hand, the smell of her hair. Now the missing pieces had been displayed before him. He knew what his mother’s hopes for her son had been, and that would plague him for the rest of his life if he didn’t make a move. He was sure. It was time. The Oberon legacy deserved a better champion, but Hunter couldn’t rewrite history. Besides Andrew, Hunter was the last one left.

He wiped his hands over his face and tried to focus on something in the room to bring his attention back to the present. His stomach growled with hunger. Hunter stood and put his hands in the pockets of his jeans, wondering whether Malia was awake and had asked for him yet.

He needed to make a decision about her. Things couldn’t go on like this. Perhaps Andrew knew of a spell to break the tie that now bound her soul to his. It would be better for her if that bond was severed. It had been a rash and selfish move on his part to bind her to him without fully comprehending the implications it held.

The chest on the table caught his eye, so Hunter went over to it, unwilling to make any decision at this moment. He was too filled with sadness to think objectively about his future, or Malia’s, for that matter.

He looked through the small and large velvet pouches and boxes in the chest, amazed at the precious heirlooms there. One opal-covered box with the initials T.O. caught his attention. Hunter’s eyes widened as he opened the box. Inside was the most beautiful pink diamond ring he had ever seen. It sparkled in a curious way, almost revealing an image in its depths. The ring was surrounded in the box by a bracelet of thick gold chain with the Oberon crest outlined with small pink diamonds on a plate of gold. The crest was a griffon with a crown in its eagle’s head and a king’s staff through its lion’s paw.

He heard the door open and shut behind him but was too engrossed in his thoughts to look away from the jewels in the box; he knew who had come into the room.

“I heard you stir and thought you might need to talk,” Andrew said softly.

“How long have you been by the door?” Hunter still kept his eyes on the griffon.

“The entire time you’ve been in here.”

Hunter shot Andrew a surprised look.

“When you’re as old as I am, you learn how to be patient,” Andrew said with half a smile.

“Can you get this off?” Hunter asked as he held out his wrist to Andrew.

Andrew touched the leather bracelet with the Blackthorne crest, and it fell away from Hunter’s wrist to the floor. The leather turned to flames and sizzled out, leaving nothing but ashes.

Hunter sucked in his breath and gave Andrew the box with his mother’s jewels. “Please?” he asked his cousin.

Andrew smiled broadly. “I’d be happy to do the honors,” he said, taking the bracelet from the box. Andrew bowed slightly to Hunter, and then put it on his outstretched wrist, securing the thick clasp of the gold chain. “The king’s crest is now where it belongs.”

M
alia awoke in confusion as she looked around the unfamiliar hotel room. They had been traveling on the concert tour with Andrew for weeks, months maybe. The days had blended together. She sat up, wondering where Hunter had gone this time, but then she heard a noise in the bathroom and noticed light coming through the crack where the door wasn’t quite shut. Malia got up and went to the door, hoping he was in the shower so she could join him.

She froze at the door, shocked by what was before her in the bathroom, unable to form rational thoughts. Hunter stood naked —at least it resembled him, but it wasn’t her Hunter. This being was too majestic to be real. Malia wanted to reach out and touch his glittery skin to make sure it wasn’t an illusion, but she was afraid to make a move.

Hunter stood still, looking at her from behind eyes that sparkled like purple jewels inset in opal and surrounded by golden eyelids. His skin looked as if it had been brushed with gold-leaf paint, his teeth were pearls, and his lips sparkled in a deep, rose-colored gold. But it was his hair that caught her attention most. It burned like bronze fire that glistened around his shoulders in even thicker curls than usual. And then she noticed the gold glitter bleeding down his face from the corners of his eyes like tears, and pouring in streams from his fingertips, falling to the floor.

“Here I am,” he said without much emotion. “This is what I truly am, Malia.”

She sucked in her breath. “I’m in awe of you.” Words were difficult to form.

“Don’t be,” Hunter said, moving closer.

He touched her gently at first, and she was relieved his skin felt smooth, silky, as it always did. Then he pulled her into his arms and glided her back to the bed, and laid her down on the rumpled sheets. There was glittery dust everywhere. Malia didn’t close her eyes because she wanted to look at him as he made love to her with rough passion, demonstrating he was indeed a physical being, even in this ethereal form. His touch was truly magical, and the cinnamon-smelling dust made her light-headed. Just being in his presence was intoxicating.

Most days he was with Andrew behind closed doors, and when the two were in public they continued to speak privately. At those times, Andrew put his hand on Hunter’s shoulder or arm, and Hunter never stepped out of Andrew’s grasp. Malia often felt jealous of Andrew. Then in the evenings while Andrew was on stage in front of thousands of screaming fans, Hunter would make her forget any doubts or insecurities about the state of their relationship. Hunter made love to her like he was on fire and it would be their last time, and then he held her until she fell asleep, telling her how much he loved her and couldn’t live without her. Sometimes at those moments, she saw tears in his eyes, but he would turn away, denying they were there.

Yet, things had changed between them. She felt the distance. When she tried to have a heartfelt conversation with him, or tried to determine their plans for the future, Hunter would find a reason not to talk. He often diverted her attention with his sweet touch and full lips on her skin—something he knew she couldn’t resist, especially when he was in his true, faery form. And lately, she glimpsed him staring at her with curiosity and, maybe, disappointment.

Tonight might be different, though. Hunter had made a point yesterday of asking her to dinner and said he wanted to have a serious conversation. They would dine alone in the hotel’s finest restaurant, instead of with the rest of Andrew’s entourage as they usually did. As she was getting dressed, Malia frowned. She wanted to look hot, but she had nothing in her suitcase that would do it. Andrew had paid for clothes and luggage for them, but Malia had not bought much, not wanting him to think she was taking advantage.

She pulled on the jeans she had been wearing for days and put a T-shirt over her head. When they had checked into the hotel, one of the most expensive in Las Vegas, Andrew had almost ordered her to go shopping for something stylish and charge it all to his account. Today she was willing to take him up on that offer.

Malia brushed her teeth and ran a comb through her now shorter and darker hair, excited about the possibility of wearing great clothes again. She went to the elevator with her silent bodyguard following. The massive man was assigned to hover around her wherever she went, although he never spoke a word. Andrew called him Mr. Bojangles, but Malia wasn’t sure that was actually the man’s name. She smiled as they got into the elevator. Today he would be useful to have along, because she intended to fill his barrel-like arms with boxes and boxes of very expensive clothes, shoes, and undergarments. It was the least Andrew could do to make up for monopolizing Hunter’s time every day.

Malia went into a very pricey boutique to get a better look at a black cocktail dress she had been admiring all week. Since she was the only customer in the shop, the salesperson was very helpful, even to the point of looking for matching shoes in Malia’s size in the back.

She was looking through necklaces hanging on a jewelry rack in the back of the store when someone said, “So, you decided to take me up on my offer.” Andrew’s voice in her ear made Malia jump.

She turned, expecting him to be right next to her, but he was just walking into the shop. Bodyguards stood on the outside of the boutique’s closed door to keep any customers from venturing inside while Andrew was there.

“You shouldn’t sneak up on people,” Malia said. Her breath caught in her throat the way it did whenever Andrew was near.

“How can I sneak up on you, when I’m barely in the door?” he asked with a mischievous smile. His blue-black hair, dark brows, and thick eyelashes were an attractive contrast to his porcelain skin and rose-colored lips in the bright lights of the store.

She couldn’t help but wonder how he looked in his true, faery form. Malia shook her head to clear it and turned her attention back to finding a necklace to match the dress she liked. As he picked up a garnet necklace, Andrew’s fingers brushed by hers, which sent fiery pulses through her veins.

“This would look nice on you,” he said, holding the necklace out to her. “And if you don’t like it, perhaps I’ll buy it for myself.” He tilted his head to the side to look at it from a different way. The light caught his eyes at an odd angle and almost made them look freakishly clear, but then he turned his face toward Malia again and his eyes became as blue as a tropical sea, except they had a rakish intent in their depths.

“So, is this the little black number you’re going to tempt Hunter with tonight?” Andrew asked in a deep voice as he touched the dress hanging by the cash register. He looked at the price tag and raised his eyebrows.

“I don’t know,” Malia said as her face grew hot. “It’s probably too much for a dinner date.”

Andrew moved so lithely he seemed to be floating, but he was suddenly by Malia’s side. “No, I want to buy it for you,” he whispered in her ear as he ran his hand down her arm. “But only if you’ll let me see you in it first.”

Malia tried to swallow but the lump in her throat prevented it. She tried to take a deep breath but his hand was still on her arm. Then she made the mistake of looking into his eyes, and was caught by the pools of blue light. She felt as if she were leaving her body, moving toward him, propelled by a force she couldn’t resist. Malia wanted to be as close to him as possible and knew her lips were moving toward his, but she couldn’t stop. It seemed as if his lips were the only cure for the fire that raged within her. She imagined the sweet sensation of them all over her body as she closed her eyes.

The sound of high heels pounding on the tile floor got louder as the salesperson came out from the back of the shop. “Ahhhhh,” she squealed with delight. “Andrew Le Fey!” She dropped the shoebox on the floor.

The woman’s shriek broke the spell on Malia, and she quickly turned away while Andrew greeted the young woman with a gracious smile.

“I can’t believe you’re here! In my store!” the salesperson squealed again.

“Quite unexpected, isn’t it?” Andrew said with a practiced smile.

Malia wanted to leave the store as quickly as possible. Her face felt even hotter now, and her lips quivered.

“Please put anything my friend here wants to buy on my account at the hotel,” he said to the salesperson, who seemed dumbfounded by his presence. “And I mean anything.”

“Andrew, really. . . that’s not necessary,” Malia said with a shake of her head.

“Nothing is too good for my prince’s lady love,” he said quietly to Malia as he turned his back on the adoring salesperson. “But do keep in mind that I will require a return favor from you at some point down the road,” he added with a sly smile. “And even if it’s a bit dangerous, I’ll make sure it’s highly pleasurable. I’ll live in anticipation.” He turned toward the door before Malia could think of a response, and he was gone.

Malia asked Mr. Bojangles to deliver a note to Hunter telling him she would be ready at seven o’clock and not to come to the room a moment earlier. She tried to put her encounter with Andrew out of her mind and focus instead on having an entire evening alone with Hunter—something that hadn’t happened in quite a while.

When the clock clicked seven and a knock rapped on the door, she smiled and felt the back of her head to make sure the French twist was perfectly in place. Malia was confident wearing the strapless cocktail dress because the scars on her neck were disappearing. The plastic surgeon had done an excellent job, or Andrew had put a spell on them—she wasn’t sure which. She twirled around, giddy from the sensation of the fine black silk swishing in a cylinder around her knees, and then opened the door.

Hunter’s mouth dropped open. “Wow!” He looked her up and down with an appreciative look. “You’re really taking this date seriously.”

“So are you,” she said in appreciation. Hunter was more dressed up than usual, with black trousers, dress shoes and a beige linen shirt that looked like it was made especially for him, and his long, curly hair was as neat as it could be. Malia sighed, thinking he was the most gorgeous man she had ever seen.

Hunter put out his arm, which Malia took as she walked out the door. Each of their bodyguards followed behind at a discreet distance.

They made their way through the casino and into another elevator that took them to the top of the hotel, where they were met by a man in a tuxedo who ushered them into an empty dining room. Each bodyguard stood by an exit door far enough away so their conversation could not be overheard, much to her relief. It was an intimate setting in a much too large room, and she wondered how much renting this entire restaurant for one couple had cost Andrew.

“He’ll do anything for you, won’t he?” Malia asked as she looked around the room. There was a wait staff of five just for the two of them.

“I suppose so,” Hunter said, letting his eyes linger on her. “Andrew is teaching me things about myself and my heritage I never dreamed possible.”

She was surprised at the light in Hunter’s eyes when he spoke of Andrew. There was something between the two she couldn’t quite figure out. “So you must really trust him now?”

“Not really, and you shouldn’t either,” Hunter said with a laugh. “Don’t ever trust a faery, not completely. They will lie to your face just for the fun of it, especially to get what they want. And Andrew is more deceitful than most. But I think he means well when it comes to me. He just doesn’t understand it’s wrong to lie to get what you want. Most faeries don’t. But that’s part of their charm, too.”

Malia looked at Hunter, smiling at the irony of his words.

“You are so beautiful.” Hunter’s face became somber. “It breaks my heart to see you like this,” he added in a breathy whisper.

Malia looked at him with curious eyes, wondering what he meant.

“I wish it could last forever, that we could be together always as we are right now, and never grow apart in any way,” he said. Hunter took her hand and engulfed it with his. “I want us to be together always, but you deserve better than to be bound to a black soul such as mine. It will be a long road to redemption for me for all the abhorrent things I’ve done, but I feel I must try to redeem myself. That’s a journey you shouldn’t have to take with me.”

“I don’t understand,” Malia said, searching his eyes for clarity. “We have to be together, not just because we want to, but to survive.”

“Maybe not, but before I go into that, I want you to understand who I really am. I guess I should say what I am.”

“I thought you told me everything.” Her heart caught in her throat as she waited for Hunter to continue.

“Not completely. You see, I’m older than you think, and I’m going to stay looking young for a long time, a very long time. Faeries don’t really age much, and in that way I definitely take after my mother’s family.”

“How old are you?”

“Forty five.” Hunter didn’t take his eyes off her, gauging her reaction.

Malia’s eyebrows went up and everything stopped for a moment. She shook her head to get her mind to start functioning again.

“Sorry, I know it’s a bit shocking for you.”

“So, what you’re telling me is that we have a May/December romance, only eventually I’ll be the one who looks like they’re robbing the cradle?”

“Well, if I understand your clichéd slang correctly, I’d say that about sums it up,” Hunter said with a cautious smile, waiting for more reaction from her.

“You mean to tell me your father kept you locked away and a virgin for forty five years?”

“I wasn’t much more than a slave,” Hunter said as the smile left his face. “And his chief assassin.”

She sucked in her breath.

“I had no choice. The only way I was allowed beyond the walls of our estate was to do his bidding, or should I say his murderous dirty work.”

“But he let you come here. He allowed you to come here to find me.”

“Only because he thought it would make me more powerful, and ultimately more deadly.” Hunter looked at her without emotion. “He didn’t count on me actually caring about you, because I’ve never really cared about anyone but myself.”