Shadowspell f-2 Page 10

  The Erlking’s smile broadened, and he looked me up and down slowly. A shiver crawled up my spine. His eyes said he was mentally undressing me, and I had to glance down to convince myself his magic hadn’t stripped my clothes away. My face burned with embarrassment as if I really were standing there naked in front of him.

  “Stop it,” Ethan said, letting go of my hand and stepping between me and the Erlking.

  Once again, I felt the prickle of Ethan’s magic. I didn’t like having the Erlking leer at me like that, but I didn’t want Ethan getting all protective and getting himself into trouble. Fae boys suffer from testosterone poisoning as badly as human ones do.

  I reached out and put my hand on Ethan’s arm, giving it a little pull so he was standing beside me instead of in front of me. He gave me a startled look, but didn’t argue.

  “Are you certain you can’t be persuaded to ride with me?” the Erlking asked, and his voice was strangely different now, lower and huskier. Sexy, even, though in a way that gave me the shivers. “You might find the ride more enjoyable than you expect.” He raised one eyebrow suggestively.

  Beside me, Ethan stiffened, and his muscles went taut under my hand. It occurred to me exactly what the Erlking was doing, and it was almost a relief to see through it.

  “Don’t take the bait, Ethan,” I said while keeping my eyes on the Erlking. “He’s hoping you’ll do something stupid so he can hurt you.”

  The Erlking shook his head, making a face of exaggerated regret. “Alas, you see right through me, Faeriewalker. My wiles are wasted on you.”

  He finished by heaving a big sigh. Then the expression on his face changed, turning cold and menacing once again.

  “ ’Tis a pity we cannot reach an agreement,” he said. To my horror, he reached over his shoulder and grasped the pommel of the sword. “Faeriewalkers are born so seldom it’s a shame to waste one.”

  The sword made an ominous hissing sound as it slid free of the scabbard. The metal shone as if there were a light inside it, and the blade was as long as my legs. It looked like it weighed a ton, but the Erlking held it in one hand like it weighed no more than a butter knife.

  I shook my head, trying to hold on to my courage. “You can’t hurt me,” I said, hoping I sounded surer than I felt. “The geis won’t let you.”

  He gave me another one of those cold smiles of his, the kind that didn’t reach his eyes. “Is that so?” he asked. Then he swung the blade toward my neck.

  I screamed and ducked. Beside me, Ethan bellowed in what sounded more like rage than fear. Instead of ducking or dodging the blade as any sensible person would do, he was surging forward. I screamed again when I saw the silver knife in his hand. He and Kimber always carried hidden knives. Kimber said it was because their affiliation with the Student Underground put them in danger. I tried to grab Ethan’s arm to stop him, but my first instinct to duck made me too slow.

  One corner of the Erlking’s mouth rose in a triumphant smile as his blade passed harmlessly over my head. It wasn’t because I’d ducked, either—he’d missed on purpose, had never had any intention of hurting me. But Ethan didn’t know that.

  The Erlking winked at me, then raised his arm to stave off Ethan’s attack. He didn’t even wince when Ethan’s silver blade sliced through his leather jacket and drew a line of blood on his forearm.

  I think at the last second, Ethan realized he’d been tricked, but it was too late and he couldn’t stop in time.

  “Too easy,” the Erlking said, but he didn’t sound a bit unhappy about it. Putting the sword back in its scabbard with one hand, he casually backhanded Ethan with the other.

  Blood flew from Ethan’s cheek as the blow knocked him back. He swayed for one moment, then his legs crumpled. I ran to his side as the Erlking examined the bloodied spikes on the back of his gauntlet.

  I dropped to my knees beside Ethan, relieved to see that his chest still rose and fell with his breaths. How long that was going to last, I didn’t know. My mind churned frantically, trying to figure out how I could save Ethan without doing anything that would allow the Erlking to attack me. I came up blank.

  But when the Erlking squatted down on Ethan’s other side, he made no hostile move. The smugness was gone, and when he met my eyes over Ethan’s body, I thought I caught a hint of something sad in them. His voice when he spoke was surprisingly gentle, and so soft that only I could hear it.

  “He is mine now, Faeriewalker.” He reached down and plucked a strand of Ethan’s long blond hair out of the blood that marred the side of his face. “His wound will heal within the hour, but he will not be the same man you once knew.”

  Tears spilled down my cheeks as he scooped Ethan’s limp body up and rose to his feet. I reached out, wanting to stop him, but not sure how.

  He made a gesture with his chin, and the Wild Hunt quit circling us. They even left enough space between them for my father to slip through. I wanted to throw myself into my dad’s arms and sob, but I was afraid if I moved or took my eyes off the Erlking, he’d disappear with Ethan.

  The Erlking just stood there, Ethan’s body completely limp in his arms, as my dad came to stand beside me. In one of his extra-demonstrative moments, Dad put his arm around my shoulders and gave them a squeeze. For a moment, I wondered if Dad was glad that the Erlking was removing Ethan from the field of play. Like I said, he’d never liked him. But that moment was fleeting.

  There was a slight tremor in the arm that draped my shoulders, and I was able to tear my eyes from the Erlking to look up at my father’s face.

  His jaw was clenched so tight you could see the outlines of his bones, and I’d never before seen such fury in his eyes. His cheeks were flushed with it, and I was half convinced there really was such a thing as a look that could kill.

  My dad’s face isn’t what I’d call expressive, but he was so shaken by what had just happened that he was completely unguarded. Under that murderous anger, there was such a weight of pain and sorrow that my own chest ached with it. I didn’t know what that was all about, but I knew it couldn’t be just because of Ethan.

  The Erlking gave my dad one of those chilly smiles that didn’t reach his eyes. “Will you fight me for this one, Seamus?” he asked. “Truly my Hunt would be honored to have one such as you in our midst.”

  Dad’s arm slid off my shoulders, and both his hands clenched into fists beside him. “Leave my daughter alone, Arawn,” my dad replied through clenched teeth.

  The Erlking—Arawn, apparently—frowned in feigned puzzlement. “I have done your daughter no harm. And this one”—he raised and lowered Ethan’s body briefly—“is no kin of yours.”

  Dad swallowed hard, and to my horror, there was what I could swear was a sheen of tears in his eyes.

  The Erlking made no visible gesture, but one of the Huntsmen lowered the kickstand on his bike and dismounted. He kept his back turned to my dad and me while he unbuckled his helmet, then took it off and laid in on the seat of his bike. Long blond hair cascaded down his back. Then he turned around.

  My dad made a horrible choking sound, and I reached out and grabbed his arm, afraid he was about to collapse.

  The Huntsman’s boots made metallic clicking sounds against the pavement as he came to stand by the Erlking’s side. The Huntsman stared at my dad, his attention so focused you’d have thought there was no one else around.

  My heart thudded against my breastbone, and for a moment I forgot to breathe as I stared at the unmasked Huntsman. He was a little shorter than my dad, and his chest was a lot broader. But his eyes were a dead match, and the shape of his face was just similar enough to make the resemblance unmistakable. A smaller version of the Erlking’s tattoo curved around his brow and under his eye.

  The Erlking handed Ethan to the Huntsman, who took him without looking away from my dad. There wasn’t much of an expression on the Huntsman’s face, but the look in his eyes was haunted.

  “Connor,” my dad said, his voice raw with pain.

 
The Erlking smiled wide, then patted Connor on the head like he was a pet dog. “I’m sure your son would greet you,” he said, “but as I’m sure you know, my Huntsmen do not speak.”

  Even though I’d already begun to guess exactly what was happening, I couldn’t help gasping.

  I had a brother.

  At least, a half brother. There was no way Connor had any mortal blood in him. He looked far too Fae for that.

  The Erlking turned to look at Connor. Connor bowed his head at the Erlking, then cast one last longing look at my dad before he carried Ethan back to his bike. Ethan still hadn’t regained consciousness. I didn’t know how Connor was going to drive his bike with an unconscious man on it, but I had no doubt he would manage.

  The Erlking focused his attention on me once more. “You might want to remind your father he still has a daughter to protect, Faeriewalker,” he said. “While I would rejoice to have him join my Hunt, it would hardly be sporting of me to take him now.”

  I grabbed on to my dad’s arm just as he started to take a step forward. He was shaking with rage, and the look in his eyes was so inhuman a part of me wanted to let go and run away.

  “Don’t, Dad,” I said. “Please. I need you.” I felt the tears streaming down my cheeks, and I didn’t even know who I was crying for—Ethan, Connor, my dad, myself. Maybe all of the above.

  Dad hesitated, but I could feel his urge to pull away in the tightness of his muscles. He looked at me briefly, then focused on the Erlking once more. I knew with every cell in my body that he was about one second short of throwing everything away in a futile attack. So I did the only thing I could think of that might stop him.

  I threw my arms around my dad’s waist, then buried my face against his chest and let my sobs loose.

  For a long, agonizing moment, he just stood there stiffly, though at least he didn’t push me away. Then slowly, tentatively, his arms closed around me.

  I didn’t look up as the sudden gunning of engines told me the Erlking and his Hunt were leaving.

  Chapter Eleven

  There was a lot of fuss and commotion after the Wild Hunt left, but I was in something of a state of shock and don’t remember much about it. I remember Kimber having hysterics—she and Ethan fought constantly, but he was her brother, after all. I was in no shape to comfort her, and I doubted she’d have wanted my comfort anyway. It was because of me that the Erlking had taken Ethan, and a crushing sense of guilt almost overwhelmed my grief.

  Dad and I ended up going to his house while Finn escorted Kimber home. Dad deposited me on the living room sofa, then headed upstairs to release my mom from her guest room/prison cell and tell her what happened.

  I was out of tears by then, and a kind of numbness had settled over me. Unfortunately, the numbness didn’t stop the guilt from gnawing away at me. The Erlking had used me to provoke Ethan into attacking him, and that made the whole thing my fault. Worse, I couldn’t help thinking that the Erlking’s interest in Ethan was entirely because of me in the first place.

  I heard my mom and dad come downstairs, but I was too miserable to bother looking at them. Dad came to join me in the living room, and I could hear my mom clattering around in the kitchen, which meant she was making tea. Ugh. If I never saw another cup of tea again, it would be too soon.

  No one said anything for a long time. I pried off my shoes, then put my feet on the sofa and hugged my knees to my chest. Dad sat on the love seat, staring at his hands. My mom brought in the tea tray and poured three cups in silence. I ignored mine.

  “Tell me about Connor,” I said to my dad when the silence became too much to bear. The fact that I had a brother I’d never even known about hadn’t sunk in yet, which was maybe just as well.

  Dad sighed heavily and shook his head. At first, I thought that meant he wasn’t going to talk about it, but he surprised me.

  “My firstborn,” he said, his eyes fixed on the steam that rose from his tea. His voice was scratchy. He cleared his throat and took a sip of tea, but he didn’t sound any better when he continued.

  “Long ago, when the Erlking hunted unchecked through Faerie, I was Titania’s consort.”

  I gasped. My dad had been described to me, before I’d met him, as “one of the great Seelie lords.” I knew that meant he was an important figure in the Seelie Court—though technically, as a citizen of Avalon, he wasn’t supposed to owe allegiance to the Court—but it had never occurred to me that he had once been the Queen’s consort.

  “She rarely keeps a consort more than a century or so, but those who have provided her with offspring tend to last longer. I know she was tiring of me near the end, was already looking for my replacement. But then she had Connor, and I rose in her esteem once more.

  “My son won me another century by Titania’s side. But then she decided it was time to put a stop to the Erlking’s marauding. She sent a contingent of Knights, led by Connor, to hunt him down and kill him. Only, as I’ve told you, the Erlking cannot be killed. He and his Huntsmen killed all the Knights in Connor’s army, but he decided to send a more … powerful message to Titania by binding Connor to the Wild Hunt. It was Connor’s abduction that finally convinced both the Queens that they had to make a deal with the Erlking.”

  “A deal that didn’t include letting Connor go?” I asked, my voice rising despite the numbness. I would have thought freeing her son would have been Titania’s primary motivation in making a deal with the Erlking. Then again, the Fae are not human, and the ones who live in Faerie don’t even make a pretense at it.

  Dad closed his eyes in obvious pain. “I know she tried to get him back,” he said. “But the Erlking wouldn’t give him up.” He opened his eyes and looked at me, and although I could still see the pain in his expression, there was sympathy as well. “It is a point of pride with him never to release anyone he has captured.”

  My throat tightened, and my eyes stung, hinting that maybe I wasn’t all cried out after all. “There has to be a way…” I started to say before the tightness of my throat stopped my voice.

  “Titania herself couldn’t find a way to make him release Connor,” my dad said, shaking his head. “Ethan is gone, too, and there will be no saving him.”

  I swallowed the protest that wanted to rise to my lips. Maybe the Seelie Queen hadn’t had the kind of leverage I had with the Erlking. After all, she wasn’t a Faeriewalker. She couldn’t give him access to the mortal world.

  My thoughts came to a screeching halt. Yeah, I might have something the Erlking wanted. But I’d already determined it was something I could never give him. I’d seen how easily and remorselessly the Erlking killed. I couldn’t unleash him on the defenseless humans of the mortal world. Not even to save Ethan.

  “I know what he wants from you, Dana,” my dad said, and I supposed it wasn’t hard for anyone who knew I was a Faeriewalker to figure that out. “You mustn’t give it to him.”

  Anger welled in my chest, and I’d probably have said something I’d later wish to take back if my mom hadn’t startled me by putting her arms around me and pulling me into a hug.

  “Give our daughter more credit than that, Seamus,” she said, and she sounded about as angry as I felt. “I can’t even believe you would consider the possibility that she would help the Wild Hunt enter the mortal world.”

  I felt my dad’s hand briefly touching the top of my head, though I hadn’t heard him move from the love seat to the sofa.

  “The Erlking is an ancient evil,” he said, and I think he meant the words for both of us. “He is a master at getting what he wants, and a sixteen-year-old girl—no matter how sensible she might be—is no match for him.”

  I pulled away from my mother’s arms and glared at him. “Just stop it, okay? I don’t want to be sensible right now! Can’t you at least wait until tomorrow to try to convince me you’re always right about everything?”

  I knew that wasn’t what he was trying to do, but right that moment, I didn’t care. I didn’t want logic or reality or mo
rality. I just wanted to be comforted, to be told everything was going to be okay, even though it wasn’t.

  The Fae are reserved by nature, and seeing Connor had shaken my dad enough that he’d actually let me see how he was feeling for a while. But it wasn’t enough. I wanted the father I’d always daydreamed about having, the one who would protect me and nurture me and love me. Not the one who would try to explain to me after the worst day of my life that it would be wrong for me to let a homicidal maniac loose in the mortal world.

  Suddenly, I couldn’t stand to be in his presence anymore. I sprang up from the couch, shaking off my father’s arm when he tried to reach for me. The bedroom upstairs was no longer mine, but my mother’s; however, it was the only place I could think of to go to get away from my dad.

  With a fresh round of tears already on their way, I slammed open the door to the stairwell and charged up the stairs two at a time.

  * * *

  It took a while to get control of myself again. Every time I thought the tears were going to slack off, I’d come up with a new round of reasons why everything that had gone wrong was my fault. If only I’d found the strength to just deal with my mom and her problem, I’d never have come to Avalon, and Ethan would never have been captured by the Erlking.

  The only thing that finally allowed me to stop the pity party was my absolute determination not to give up on Ethan. My dad might think it was impossible to save him from the Wild Hunt, but damn it, I was going to find a way. Without letting the Erlking go on a killing spree.

  I went into the bathroom to splash some cold water on my face, then made the mistake of looking at myself in the mirror. I was not a pretty sight. My eyes were all red and puffy, and my hair was stuck to the tear tracks on my cheeks. I took a couple deep breaths, then cleaned myself up as best I could. My eyes still looked like crap when I was done, but at least I’d managed to brush out the tangles in my hair and get it pulled back into a neat ponytail.

  My plan was to go downstairs and apologize to my dad for blowing up at him. I still thought he should have known I wouldn’t lead the Wild Hunt out into the mortal world for their version of fun and games, but I knew I’d overreacted. After all, it was obvious that seeing Connor had hurt him. Much as losing Ethan hurt me, I doubted it could compare to the pain of losing a son.