Prince of Air and Darkness Page 15

  Kiera turned to her mother, sure her face had turned white. “Will Finvarra try to kill him?” she asked.

  Her mother’s eyes turned fierce. “I hope so!” she snarled, and Kiera was startled by the force of those words. Her mother leaned her elbows on the table. “That bastard hurt you, and would have hurt you much, much worse if Conan and I hadn’t stopped him. The only reason I didn’t let Conan rip his throat out last night is that I knew it would upset you.”

  Kiera gaped. Where was the genial goof she had grown up with? The woman sitting across the table from her was a lioness protecting her cubs, and Kiera felt as though she’d never met her before. “Yes, he hurt me,” she said, “but he doesn’t deserve to die for it. Finvarra had better not kill him.”

  The lioness disappeared and was replaced with her mom again. “Finvarra does what he pleases when it pleases him. There was never a more selfish creature born, either in Faerie or in the mortal world. If he decides he wants Hunter dead, nothing anyone says to him will sway him.” She shook her head. “Keep in mind, however, that the Queen of Air and Darkness is much, much worse.”

  Kiera’s coffee had gone cold from neglect, and she rose to dump the contents and pour a fresh cup. “Tell me more about this queen,” she said as she hunted through the refrigerator for the half and half. “Why do you call her the Queen of Air and Darkness? Doesn’t she have a name?” She poured a shot of half and half into her coffee then returned to the table.

  “Actually, she doesn’t. She’s not like Finvarra. He’s a real, living being—immortal, but still tied to the flesh. The Unseelie Queen is more like an elemental force. She has a body, and it’s flesh and blood, but the body is not her. If that makes any sense.”

  “None whatsoever.”

  Her mother laughed. “The Queen is the embodiment of the Unseelie court, the Court made flesh. That flesh hosts the spirit of the Court, but it isn’t really her. You could kill that body, and the Queen would still exist. She’d simply find—or create—a new body to host her.”

  Kiera shivered. “Weird.” An understatement, to be sure. What was it like to have that as a mother? She felt a moment of sympathy for Hunter. Then she remembered that he had been planning to sacrifice his own child to the Queen, and the sympathy faded.

  “When Conan gets back, we should go to your apartment and pack a bag for you.”

  The words jolted Kiera out of her thoughts. “Excuse me?”

  “For the time being, at least, it would be best if you stayed here with me. This house is well protected, and between me and Conan—”

  Kiera held up her hand. “Hold it right there!” Her mother jerked back, as if surprised. “You won’t let Finvarra whisk me away to Faerie and hold me prisoner for my own protection, but you think I’ll agree to be held prisoner in your house for the same reason?”

  Her mother looked gravely offended, though Kiera suspected it was an act. “Why, Kiera, how could you think such a thing? I’m not talking about holding you prisoner, for heaven’s sake! All I want is for you not to be completely alone and vulnerable.” Her voice gentled. “Besides, you’ve been deeply hurt. You would not be the first woman to spend time at her mother’s house under those circumstances.”

  Kiera rubbed her eyes, really wishing she could wake up and find out this was all a dream. “I’m thirty years old. Mom, I love you, but I could never live with you.” It would be dangerous to her health. Her mother’s, too, as Kiera had already exceeded her previous record for being in her company without wanting to strangle her.

  “It would just be for a little while.”

  “No. Nothing has really changed between yesterday and today. The only thing that’s happened is I’ve learned more of the truth. I’m going to live in my own home, and I’m going to try to put my life back exactly where it was.”

  “With Hunter living in the apartment right below you?”

  “I’m sure he’s gone by now. Why would he stick around?”

  Her mother gave her a long, hard stare. “He’ll still be there,” she said, her voice sounding certain.

  Kiera frowned. “But why?”

  Her mother shook her head. “Never mind. Just take my word for it, he will stick around as long as he can.”

  “Mother, what do you know that you’re not telling me?”

  “Many, many things, dear child.”

  Kiera rolled her eyes. “Fine. Be mysterious about it. See if I care.” She pushed away from the table. “I’m going home now.”

  Her mother pushed away also. “No, you most certainly are not. I’m telling you, Hunter will still be there, and he is still dangerous. If you can’t bear to stay here with me, at least let me put you in a hotel incognito.”

  Kiera shook her head. “No. Mom, it’s not like the guy is going to be able to seduce me now anyway.” She started toward the front door.

  “Are you sure?” her mother asked, halting her in her tracks.

  She gave her mother a dirty look. “How stupid do you think I am?”

  “Remember the glamour, dear.”

  The glamour that had almost moved her to have sex with Hunter in the elevator. Kiera frowned. But she had shaken the glamour off that time, despite how hot it had made her feel. And she was sure that last night, Hunter hadn’t used it against her even for a moment. Which was either a sign that he had a conscience, or a sign that he realized the glamour didn’t work well enough on her.

  “I’m not worried about the glamour,” she finally decided, once more heading for the door. Her mother ran up behind her and put a hand on her arm.

  “Kiera, please—”

  Kiera shrugged her mother’s hand off. “I’ll be fine,” she said. “I’ll put the damned horseshoe on my door, and if I have even a hint of trouble I’ll call you.”

  Kiera felt a twinge of pity when she saw the fear on her mom’s face, but she wasn’t about to back down. She was not going to let Hunter screw up her life any more than he already had.

  ****

  Hunter woke up on his living room couch with a throbbing headache, a foul taste in his mouth, and a persistent ache in his chest. The Scotch bottle, nearly empty, sat on the coffee table in accusatory silence.

  Disgusted with himself and his moping, Hunter dragged himself to the bathroom to clean up. The steam from his near-scalding shower helped clear his head and reminded him that he wasn’t the only one who could end up suffering for his failure. Last night, he’d been too sunk in his own misery to think things through, but this morning, he realized he had work left to do if he didn’t want to drag Kiera down with him. Refraining from killing himself was just his first step toward keeping her safe.

  If Bane or the Queen ever caught a hint that Hunter had formed even the slightest attachment to Kiera, she would be in the worst possible danger. He didn’t think he would ever fully recover from the horror of watching his father’s gruesome execution; he couldn’t take the risk that Kiera might face the same fate. Which meant that although Hunter had lost all hope of success—and all desire to succeed—he had to pretend to keep trying.

  Footsteps on the floor above him alerted Hunter that Kiera was home, though he’d hoped she would stay with her mother for the time being, where she would be safer. He stared up at the ceiling, and he felt sick at the hurt he’d caused her. Or maybe that was just the effect of too much pain-numbing Scotch.

  She probably never expected to see him again. Probably thought he’d already gone back to Faerie with his tail tucked between his legs. She would not be happy when she found out otherwise.

  Although he didn’t consciously make the decision to move, he found himself walking out his front door. Don’t be a damn fool, he told himself, but he kept walking until he stood in front of the elevators, and his hand developed a will of its own, reaching out to press the up arrow.

  You’re the last person on this planet Kiera wants to see, he tried again, but when the elevator arrived, he stepped into it anyway. If he wasn’t going to disappear from her life, then
he at least owed her an explanation. She probably wouldn’t buy a word he said, but at least he could try.

  His palms were sweaty and his heartbeat felt oddly erratic when he stepped off the elevator and headed toward Kiera’s door. His lips quirked into a smile when he saw the horseshoe she’d nailed into place. At least she was taking some precautions, even if she wasn’t staying at her mother’s house as he’d prefer. His mortal blood would allow him to overcome the horseshoe’s barrier spell—though not without some significant discomfort—but it would keep the rest of the Queen’s minions out should they ever wish to invade her home.

  He hesitated with his finger over the doorbell, fearing he had taken leave of his senses. What could he possibly hope to accomplish here other than to flog himself with Kiera’s hurt and disdain? But maybe he owed her that. Maybe he owed her the chance to tell him what she really thought of him when she wasn’t reeling from shock, and when she didn’t have her mother and the phooka watching her every move.

  Hunter rang the doorbell and tried not to hold his breath. Footsteps sounded behind the closed door, and the peephole darkened. Hunter had to force himself not to look at his feet like a coward.

  There was a long, painful silence, and Hunter could have sworn his heart stopped beating as he waited. Then, he released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding when he heard the sound of the locks turning. The door cracked open, but Kiera kept the chain on—as if that flimsy bit of metal could have kept him out.

  “What do you want?” Kiera asked coldly, eyes locked on his shoulder instead of his face.

  He’d have preferred to do this inside her apartment rather than standing out in the hall, but trying to gain himself an invitation over her threshold at the moment seemed like an exercise in futility. He swallowed past a painful lump in his throat as he remembered the trust and abandon he’d seen on her face as he’d laid her on his bed last night. He would never see that look on her face again.

  “There are some things I need to explain,” he said, and was surprised to discover his voice was rough and hoarse. He cleared his throat. “Things I didn’t think about last night but that you need to know.”

  Fire flickered in her eyes, and she finally looked him square in the face. “If you’re here to make excuses, then we have nothing to talk about.”

  She started to slam the door shut, but Hunter wedged the toe of his shoe in. The barrier spell sprang to life, and his toes prickled like a hundred needles were sticking into them. It was a pain he was willing to bear.

  “I’m not here to make excuses,” he said, wincing as Kiera laid into the door with her shoulder, squeezing the bones of his foot together. “There are no excuses for what I tried to do, and I know that.”

  With a grunt of frustration, Kiera gave up the effort to slam the door on him. “You have some nerve showing up here! Maybe I should call the cops and report a stalker.”

  “If that would make you feel better, go ahead. But I’m not going to go away.”

  He thought she’d looked angry before, but now she looked positively furious, and Hunter was glad she didn’t have a weapon. He hastened to explain.

  “I can’t go away because if I stop pursuing you, my mother might take that as evidence that I’ve become attached to you. The man I was when I first met you would never have given up, no matter what setbacks he encountered. If my mother has any reason to suspect I’ve changed, that you’ve changed me, she might decide to punish me by hurting you.”

  The look Kiera gave him was pure skepticism, and he couldn’t blame her. He shook his head. “You don’t know what she’s like. Her cruelty knows no bounds. When I was seven years old, she tortured my father to death in front of me.”

  The blood drained from Kiera’s face, and guilt stabbed through Hunter’s chest at the sympathy in her eyes.

  “I didn’t tell you that so you’d feel sorry for me,” he said. “I just wanted you to know how she thinks. If she believes I’ve failed my mission because I came to care about you, she’ll use it against me.”

  “You really expect me to believe you care about me? You’ve been lying to me since the first time we ever spoke. Why should I believe anything you say?”

  It was a fair question, much though Hunter hated to admit it. He shook his head. “It’s true, whether you believe it or not. I just thought you deserved an explanation for why I’m not getting out of your life now that you know the truth. I’m through lying to you, but I have no qualms about lying to them.” He tried to keep his expression neutral, but he had a feeling Kiera could read his face, read his hatred for the Court to which he belonged body and soul. “I’ll leave you be, for now. But for your own safety you haven’t seen the last of me.”

  Hunter wanted to growl in frustration, because his words sounded like a threat, and he didn’t mean them that way. But words were failing him in the face of Kiera’s penetrating gaze, and he decided any more he uttered would just make things worse. Hating himself almost as much as he hated the Court, Hunter turned away without another word.

  ****

  Kiera bit her lip as she watched Hunter’s retreating back. The sensible thing to do was shut the door and forget about everything he’d said, whether any of it was true or not. Her instincts had told her since the first time she’d met him that he was bad news, and they’d been thoroughly vindicated.

  So why was she still standing there in the doorway, watching him through the narrow gap the chain allowed?

  Hunter stopped in front of the elevators and hit the down arrow. He jammed his hands into his jeans pockets and stared impatiently at the lighted numbers indicating the elevator’s progress. The tension in his shoulders was impossible to miss, and the muscles in his jaw stood out like he was grinding his teeth. But it wasn’t anger she sensed from him—more like despair.

  Kiera pulled her door closed so she could undo the chain. By the time she opened it again, Hunter had lost patience with the elevator and was striding toward the stairs around the corner.

  “Hunter!” she called out, and he froze in his tracks.

  What the hell am I doing? she wondered. If Hunter was going away, she should most certainly let him. She should not be calling him back, and she should not be opening her door to him.

  Hunter turned slowly toward her, and Kiera told herself to stop being an idiot and retreat into the safety of her apartment.

  “I want a full explanation,” she found herself saying instead. “You gave me the highlights last night, but I want it all.”

  Hunter started walking slowly toward her, as if afraid she’d bolt at any sudden move. Her heart hammered in her throat, but she sensed no threat in him, only remorse. Wishful thinking, perhaps, but despite everything she knew, something about Hunter still called to her. She imagined that if he was telling the truth, if he really did have a conscience, then his life in the Unseelie Court must be a lonely one indeed.

  “I’ll tell you anything you want to know,” he said when he was an arm’s length away.

  Kiera’s nerves jittered at how close he was, but if he were going to attack her, he’d have done so by now. A door opened down the hallway, one of her neighbors stepping out.

  “Why don’t you come inside,” she found herself asking Hunter.

  His eyes widened just slightly, his expression turning vulnerable. “Are you sure?”

  Maybe it was all just more acting. Maybe he was afraid if he seemed too eager, he’d scare her off again. But Kiera suspected what she was seeing was real. Men like Hunter were afraid to let people see anything that might be construed as a weakness, and she doubted that this was the tack he’d take if he were still hunting her.

  Instead of answering, Kiera took a step backward, opening her door wider. Hunter hesitated a moment longer, looking at her in a way she might almost have described as wary. Then he visibly forced himself to cross her threshold. His face lost a little color, and he closed his eyes as if he was in pain.

  “What’s the matter?” she asked, then won
dered why she cared.

  “The horseshoe,” he answered tightly. “If I weren’t half mortal, I wouldn’t have been able to cross the threshold at all, but even so, it was . . . Unpleasant.”

  “Oh.” Kiera had assumed that opening the door counteracted the horseshoe’s effects. She almost apologized for the misunderstanding, but then swallowed the words before they escaped her lips. She didn’t owe Hunter any apologies. He stood awkwardly in the entryway as she closed the door, like he wasn’t sure she was okay with him coming in further.

  “What do you want to know?” he asked when she turned to face him.

  To say she had a lot of questions was a laughable understatement, but she tried her best to compose herself and get to the very heart of what was troubling her.

  “Why did you agree to do it?” She had from the very beginning sensed the predator inside of Hunter, but as uneasy as he’d made her, she had a hard time reconciling the man she’d thought she known with a man who would cold-bloodedly seduce her with the aim of getting her pregnant. The cruelty of the plan made her heart ache.

  Hunter gave a bark of bitter laughter. “One does not survive to adulthood in the Unseelie Court if one doesn’t learn to obey the Queen’s every command.” The humor faded, leaving only the bitterness. “When she ordered me to seduce you, I tried to keep myself completely detached. I told myself it was just a job, and that I had no choice in the matter.” He met her eyes for the first time since he’d stepped into her apartment. “I tried not to care, but you made that impossible.”

  Kiera shook her head in disbelief. What was so special about her that he would risk the Queen’s wrath to let her go?

  That thought triggered another question, one that made Kiera shiver. “What’s going to happen to you when the Queen finds out you’ve failed?”

  Hunter’s face was a blank mask, but the pallor in his cheeks spoke volumes. “It doesn’t matter. I will be punished, but I knew that last night, and I still couldn’t force myself to betray you.”