Wicked Whispers (3 page)

She glared at him. “Now you’re just being annoying. Fairy tales don’t scare me. You didn’t answer my question. Why am I here?”

His lips twitched. She had a feeling this was Holgarth’s version of a belly laugh.

“A fairy tale? Yes, the fae sometimes visit us. But we haven’t had to incarcerate one yet.” He looked thoughtful. “They would present some unique difficulties.” Then he widened his eyes. “Oh, but you asked about this room. The hotel is full right now. You could, of course, return to your old room.” He looked hopeful.

He’d like that. Ivy prided herself on being even-tempered, but Holgarth totally ticked her off. “Fine. I’ll stay here.” Not waiting for his reply, she walked into the room and shut the door in his face. Then she leaned against it and closed her eyes.

Finally, she sighed and walked over to one of the chairs in the small sitting area. The big four-poster bed called to her, but if she gave in she’d be out as soon as her head hit the pillow. She had to stay awake until someone delivered her clothes.

She tried not to think. Attempting to figure things out when she was so tired wouldn’t work. Tomorrow morning, when her mind wasn’t a mushy banana, would be time enough to think about the weirdness.

Instead, she studied the room—dark period furniture, a stone floor covered with what looked like oriental rugs, and jewel-toned tapestries on the wall. Hello, Texas gothic. The only thing missing was an open window with sheer curtains blowing gently in the night breeze and the scent of honeysuckle. Okay, so maybe that was southern gothic.

The knock interrupted her thoughts. She pried herself from the chair and opened the door. Holgarth stood there beside a man loaded down with her things. The wizard watched as the man dumped her clothes on the bed, her shoes on the floor, and everything else on the coffee table in the sitting area.

Love the five-star treatment here.
But Ivy didn’t voice her thoughts, because she wanted Holgarth to answer a question for her. She waited until the man left.

“I was on the beach tonight, and I heard music. I don’t know where it was coming from, but it seemed…” What? Tempting, arousing, compelling? “Strange. Then I met a man—tall, long blond hair—and he asked me to dance with him.” This was dumb. Holgarth would just make fun of her. “I danced.”

She watched Holgarth’s face, expecting to see his usual disdainful expression. “Do you know if he’s staying in the castle?” Not that Ivy really cared. Okay, maybe she
did
care. A little.

The wizard stared back at her from eyes that gave nothing away. “If you hear the music again, cover your ears. And
never
agree to dance with him.” He sounded completely serious.

“Why?”
There’s always a rational reason for everything.

Holgarth’s gaze speared her. “Explanations would be useless. Remember, you don’t believe in fairy tales.” He turned and walked away.

Well, that was totally unsatisfying. She closed the door and got ready for bed. After searching under her pillow for spiders, she relaxed enough to fall asleep.

And dreamed of the man, the music, and the dance.

2

Murmur knocked on Bain’s door. He had to know why Bain wanted him here, and he had to know now. No more bullshit about not having time to explain, that it was a complicated story.

Last night had been a wakeup call. Murmur had thought he was in control, but when he’d flung out the net of his melody and pulled her in—that had been a hell of a surprise—he’d kept her. If the woman’s will had been even a little weaker, he would have danced on and on until he’d held only a corpse in his arms.

He paused to think about her. There was something… Murmur shook his head. Whatever he sensed about her wasn’t important now.

He was glad she still lived, though. The fact he even cared at all was a warning. Time to move on. So either Bain gave Murmur a good reason to stay, or he was out of here tonight.

Bain opened his door. “I have a meeting. Can’t talk now.”

Murmur raised one brow.

“What?”

“I’m going to this meeting with you, and when you leave the meeting I’ll be right there.”

Bain raked his fingers through his hair. “Now isn’t a good time.”

Murmur lost his temper. “I’ve hung around for weeks. I have places to go, music to play, people to kill.” Not really. The longer he spent away from the Underworld, the less compulsion he felt to kill. He used to go back at regular intervals to ramp up the old murderous urges, but as long as he had his music he was okay. “You owe me an explanation. If I don’t get it within the next few hours, you’ll have to find someone else.”

Bain’s muttered curse told Murmur what he thought of his friend’s ultimatum. “Tag along if you want, but Sparkle probably won’t let you in. She’s only invited a few of us to meet her new assistant.”

Murmur smiled, not one of his nicer smiles. “Then I’ll meet her with you.” He pointed at Bain and then back at himself. “Attached at the hip, brother.”

Bain scowled, but didn’t say anything else as they walked to the small conference room beside the castle’s restaurant. Murmur could hear voices, so he knew the meeting had started without Bain. Good. Murmur loved making an entrance.

Bain flung the door open and strode to an empty seat at the table without looking at anyone. He pointed over his shoulder at Murmur. “Didn’t invite him.”

Sparkle’s frown eased into a cat-eyeing-canary smile. Not a good sign.

“Murmur, you’re always welcome. We think of you as almost… family.” She didn’t even blink as she said it.

Bad, really bad. Murmur thought about backing out of the room, but that would make Bain happy. Right now, Murmur wanted him miserable.

“Thanks. It feels good to have family. Dysfunctional, yes, but still family.” He tried to look suitably grateful.

Ganymede’s snort said what he thought of the new family member. The cat sat atop a pile of pillows on the chair next to Sparkle.

Murmur scanned the rest of the “family.” Holgarth, Edge, Passion, and…

Crap. His dancing partner from the night before stared back at him. Her eyes widened. She recognized him. He frowned. This must be Sparkle’s new assistant.

“I was just about to introduce Ivy to everyone. Now that I’m taking over a few of the Big Boss’s duties, I’ll need someone reliable to do the little day-to-day things that I’d normally do.” Sparkle studied her nails before raising her gaze to her assistant. She smiled.

Murmur couldn’t believe the woman didn’t knock over her chair in her rush for the door. That particular smile had made strong men weep and weak men flee. How could the new assistant miss the avid hunter’s gleam in Sparkle’s eyes? He almost shook his head. She wouldn’t last a week. That was good for him.

“This is Ivy Lowe, everyone. Starting a new job is always difficult.”

“Some more difficult than others.” Murmur thought no one had heard him, but Sparkle cast him a warning glance.

“So I hope you’ll all make her feel welcome.” Sparkle’s expression said that if they didn’t, their deaths would be slow and painful. “And I’ve changed my mind. I think you can each introduce yourself. The personal touch is always better, don’t you think?”

Her glance flicked to Murmur and then away. Every hair on Murmur’s arms rose. Sparkle had something planned, and that never boded well for anyone. Then his attention switched to Ivy.

Murmur watched her watch the others. Medium-length dark hair. Ordinary style. Brown eyes. Ordinary shade. Good lips. Not spectacular. The usual makeup. Nothing edgy about her. This woman didn’t look like a risk-taker, didn’t seem like someone who could accept the truth about the castle. He felt a moment of sympathy. Only a moment. Murmur wasn’t kind. The kind died young in his reality.

“Murmur, it’s your turn.” Sparkle leaned forward, anticipation alive in the tapping of one bloodred nail on the table.

He started. What had everyone else said? They damn well hadn’t told the truth or else Ivy wouldn’t still be sitting there, her unblinking gaze fixed on him. She offered him a tentative smile, and he made a decision.

He’d do her a favor worth more than she’d ever realize. He’d tell her the truth. The sooner she left the Castle of Dark Dreams, the faster she could return to the ordinary world where she so obviously belonged.

He smiled, the smile he saved for special occasions, meant to terrify and intimidate. “I’m a demon of music, Ivy. I kill with my tunes.” He stopped smiling. “Meet me on the beach tonight and we’ll dance some more.”

“Delightful.” Holgarth sniffed. “Now we’ll be subjected to a fit of hysteria.”

“Oh, shit.”

Ganymede’s voice in Murmur’s head wasn’t unexpected. A glance at Ivy assured him that the cat spoke only to him.

“Gotta give it to you, demon: you have balls. Sparkle will eat you alive for spoiling her plans.”
Ganymede raised one gray paw to wash his face.
“Thought about leaving you guys to watch
Top Chef,
but this’ll be more fun. Cooked goose tops chicken marsala every time.”

Ivy paled. “Demon?”

Sparkle reached over to pat her hand. “Murmur’s always joking. Ignore him.” Her expression said he was a dead demon.

Murmur shrugged. “Believe what you want to believe.” He glanced at Bain. “You’ve met her, now it’s time for us to talk.”

Bain stood. “Right. Let’s get this over with.” He glanced at Ivy. “Enjoyed meeting you, Ivy. Don’t let Murmur scare you away.” He walked from the room.

Murmur followed him. His last view of Ivy was of her shocked expression as Sparkle worked on damage control. It didn’t matter what Sparkle said; Ivy would run. The word “demon” had that effect on humans.

He was glad she was leaving. Of course, demons lied, even to themselves. You always had to take that into consideration.

Murmur didn’t say anything as he followed the other demon up the winding stone steps, then down the hall to an unfamiliar door. “We’re not going back to your room?”

“No.” Bain didn’t offer any explanation. He knocked.

The man who answered was fae. No faery creatures in the universe were more beautiful or more dangerous than the Sidhe. Long silvery hair, pale blue eyes with a metallic sheen, perfect face, and a heart so cold it would shatter like ice if you tapped it with a fingernail. That about described every one of the Sidhe he’d ever met.

“This is Tirron. Seelie Court.” Bain stepped past the faery, and Murmur followed him. “I’ve already told Tirron about you.”

The Seelie Court? Was that supposed to convince Murmur that Tirron was more trustworthy than his evil twins in the Unseelie Court? He’d have to explain to Bain that courts didn’t matter to him. He didn’t trust any of the Sidhe.

Murmur gave Tirron a noncommittal nod as he chose a chair in the small sitting area. While he waited for Bain and the faery to settle, he hummed. Tirron looked interested. Bain shot Murmur a warning glance. He shut up. No music around the faeries. They enjoyed it too much.

Bain leaned back in his chair. He seemed relaxed, but that didn’t fool Murmur. Tension stretched between them.

Murmur decided that Bain must really need him. Interesting. “Whatever it is, let’s hear it. I’ll either help or I won’t. Putting off the telling won’t make it easier.”

“I lost someone important to me a long time ago.” Bain stared straight ahead. “The Sluagh Sidhe took her. Now the faery host is about to enter the mortal plane again. I want her back.” He stopped talking.

Murmur frowned. The Sluagh Sidhe. He’d only met them once. They’d impressed the hell out of him—a dark cloud sweeping across the night sky. Close up, he’d seen hundreds of the Sidhe along with countless other fae creatures and the humans they’d taken. They’d steered clear of him that night. Even the Sidhe thought twice about messing with him. He was tempted to ask for details about the person the Sluagh Sidhe had taken, but maybe now wasn’t the time. He’d find out more later. “So what’s my part in this?”

Tirron answered him. “We need a way to draw the faery host to this place. No faery can resist your music.” His expression said: “Even you can figure out the rest, stupid.”

Murmur nodded. “Okay, I get it. You need my music as the carrot. So how’re you involved?”

“The hunters are all Unseelie. They sweep up everyone in their path.” Malice filled Tirron’s smile. “Bain wants to retrieve his human toy. And I want the destruction of certain members of the Unseelie badly enough to join forces with two demons. I’ll track them and be here to help fight. That is all you need to know.” His expression said they could leave now.

Murmur rose and walked to the door. His smile was no smile at all. “Arrogant, aren’t you? Perhaps you’d like to dance to my music for a while.”

Tirron’s already pale face grew a little paler as he quickly closed the door behind them.

Murmur didn’t say anything more until they returned to Bain’s room. He didn’t sit down as Bain sank onto the nearest chair. “Your human toy?”

Bain shrugged. “Tirron is a faery. To him, humans are all playthings—use them and then toss them in the trash when they break. Cold son of a bitch.”

Mumur didn’t point out that demons weren’t known for their warmth and caring either. “I need more details before I commit.” A lie. The thought of a good, old-fashioned bloodbath energized him. He needed to wield his music as he once did, with joy and savage glee.

Bain stared past him, and Murmur got the feeling he was somewhere else right now. “I loved a human woman. The Sluagh Sidhe took her on a clear winter’s night hundreds of years ago. It was my fault. I left her unprotected.” His eyes darkened. Loss and fury along with immense power filled the room, pushing at Murmur.

“You
loved
her?” The Bain he knew didn’t love anyone.

Bain met his gaze. “I’ve only experienced love that once. It will never happen again.” His expression hardened. “It hurt. I’m not into pain.”

“Do you still love her?” Murmur congratulated himself on never having loved.

“It was a long time ago. Who knows? But even if I don’t, the responsibility is mine. I’ll free her.”