Shadowspell f-2 Page 20

  Frowning, I looked up into Ethan’s face. As far as I could remember, I hadn’t ever described the setup of my safe house to him. I supposed he could be making an assumption, but it didn’t sound like it.

  He read the confusion on my face and explained without me having to question him. “The Erlking knows where you live.”

  Yes, I’d figured that out when I found his little charm on my bedside table. “And he told you?” I couldn’t imagine why, and I didn’t much like the idea of Ethan knowing. I might be halfway in love with him, but I still didn’t fully trust him. Not that I thought he’d hurt me or anything, but I couldn’t help fearing he’d tell someone he shouldn’t.

  Ethan stared at his toes. “Yeah, he told me. Said it wasn’t inconceivable that he’d need to send me down there sometime. He’s determined to make sure you don’t get killed, at least not until you’ve given him what he wants.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t suppose telling him I don’t want his protection will do any good.”

  Ethan snorted. “No, I don’t suppose it would. And don’t think I’m letting you off that easy. How did you get past Finn?”

  I opened my mouth to tell Ethan about the brooch, then thought better of it before any words came out. There were any number of reasons he might decide to take the brooch away from me, not least of which being the very fact that it came from the Erlking. He also might take it into his head to protect me from myself by making sure I couldn’t get out of my safe house unnoticed again. He was a lot bigger and stronger than me, and even with my self-defense training, I doubted I’d be able to stop him from taking the brooch if he really wanted to.

  “I snuck out while he was in the bathroom,” I said, hoping Ethan didn’t notice my hesitation. “Everyone thinks I’m really sensible, so it’s not like they keep me locked up or anything. As far as Finn knows, I’m in my room fast asleep.”

  Ethan didn’t look completely convinced, but he didn’t challenge the story, either. “I’m going to walk you home,” he informed me, and his tone said there would be no arguing with him.

  I bit my lip. I’d actually be a lot safer if Ethan didn’t walk me home, because then I could use the brooch. But I knew I wouldn’t be able to talk him out of it without more explanation than I was willing to give. Yes, it would be a bit dangerous to walk around Avalon with only Ethan for protection, but I decided it was an acceptable risk.

  * * *

  I felt more certain of my decision when Ethan took me directly into the tunnel system through the hidden access point in the courtyard. Traveling through the streets of Avalon, even at this time of night, it was possible—if unlikely—that one of the bad guys might spot me. But as vast as the tunnel system was, there were only a few populated areas, which would be easy to avoid now that I had my “native guide” with me.

  The entrance we used led directly into one of the completely unpopulated sections of the tunnel system, where there was no electricity. I had my flashlight, but Ethan was using an actual torch, which he lit by magic. It created a lot more light than my flashlight, but I couldn’t help finding its flickering flame—and the moving shadows that flame created—creepy.

  Ethan led the way, holding the torch out to his side because the ceiling was too low for him to hold it up. Our footsteps echoed eerily against the stone walls, and the occasional snap and crackle of the flame set my nerves on edge. Then again, just being in these tunnels tended to have that effect on me. As far as I knew, I hadn’t been claustrophobic before I’d come to Avalon, but I was now.

  Neither one of us talked much. The silence of the tunnels was too oppressive, the echoes of even our whispers too unnerving. I’d always found the tunnels kinda scary, but the effect was worse than ever tonight. The tightness of Ethan’s shoulders and the cautious way he proceeded told me he felt it, too. I told myself it was just our imaginations, that we couldn’t help being at least a little freaked out traveling these dark, deserted, confusing tunnels in the dead of night. That didn’t stop the little hairs on the back of my neck from standing at attention.

  Ethan reached back and took my hand, fingers intertwining with mine. His palm was sweaty, and that didn’t do much to ease my fears. I swallowed hard, trying to convince myself I was being ridiculous, but it didn’t work, and a few moments later, Ethan came to a stop.

  “Something just doesn’t feel right,” he muttered under his breath.

  I couldn’t help agreeing with him. “What should we do?” I asked in the quietest whisper I could manage. But I couldn’t imagine what we could do, other than keep moving.

  Ethan’s eyes were narrowed as he peered into the darkness ahead of us. The Fae have better eyesight than humans, but it seemed clear he didn’t see any cause for alarm. Looking grimly determined, he took another step forward, his hand squeezing mine a little more firmly. He was going to cut off circulation to my fingers if he didn’t ease up, but I was feeling anxious enough not to protest.

  Something in the tunnel ahead of us made a coughing sound, and there was a little flash of light. Ethan cried out, and the torch fell from his hand.

  I turned to him in alarm. “Ethan! What’s wrong?” It was hard to see in the erratic light of the fallen torch, but there was a patch of wetness staining his right shoulder, just above his collarbone.

  He collapsed to his knees, his fingers going limp in my hand. “Run, Dana,” he said, and tried to give me a weak shove back the way we’d come. The stain on his shirt continued to spread, and he swayed. “Run!” he said again.

  “Hell, no,” I replied, grabbing hold of his good arm and trying to drag him to his feet. I wasn’t entirely sure what was going on yet, but I did know I wasn’t going to just run away and leave Ethan. When pulling on him didn’t work, I draped his arm over my shoulder. “Come on!”

  Footsteps echoed in the tunnel in front of us, and a ball of light slowly formed and expanded near the ceiling. I managed to get Ethan to his feet, but most of his weight was leaning on me, and he was barely conscious, too hurt even to use his healing magic. We weren’t going to get far like this, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t going to try.

  I got us turned around and took a couple of steps, but I was bracing myself for the sound of another gunshot—because what else could that coughing sound have been?—and for the pain of a bullet slamming into my back. It didn’t happen, but something worse did. The light spell reached its full intensity, illuminating the tunnel for yards in both directions.

  Standing in the middle of the tunnel, blocking my retreat and holding a gun big enough to qualify as a cannon, stood my aunt Grace.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  When I’d first met Aunt Grace, she’d reinforced every stereotype I’d ever had of the Fae. Way too beautiful to be human, reserved to the point of coldness, and arrogant as all hell. She was still all of those things, but with a heaping dose of crazy to top it off. Her smile was bright and triumphant as she pointed that damn cannon at my head. The scraggly, half-Fae guy who’d posed as Lachlan stood by her side. I guessed she’d bailed him out, or he’d still have been in jail. He, too, had a gun.

  I glanced over my shoulder, even though I knew there was another armed enemy back there. Sure enough, an extremely large, nasty-looking human man was blocking the way. He was built like a football player—one of those fat but powerful lineman types—and made all the more intimidating by his buzz-cut hair and the jagged scar that slashed across his face. His gun was a lot smaller than Grace’s, but its barrel was extended by a silencer.

  We were trapped.

  Heart beating in my throat, I carefully lowered Ethan to the floor. His breathing was ragged, his face squinched with pain, but at least he was conscious. And the bleeding seemed to have slowed, so maybe if I could miraculously get us out of this, he wasn’t going to die. But he wasn’t going to be much help, either.

  I stood up slowly, putting my back against the tunnel wall so I could keep an eye on Grace and her super-sized henchman.

  “And
so we meet again, my dear niece,” Grace said with a toothy, sharklike smile.

  “Oh, joy,” I responded, though I knew I should keep my mouth shut. From the first time I’d laid eyes on her, Grace had inspired me to take whatever verbal digs I could get in, and it seemed she still had that effect on me.

  Her smile thinned, and her eyes pierced me, sending a shiver down my spine. “Still haven’t learned to respect your betters, I see.”

  I raised my chin and met her stare, trying to project confidence as my mind cast about for any possibility of escape. “That one’s just too easy,” I said. Maybe if I could make her completely lose her temper, she’d give me some kind of opening I could take advantage of. Yeah, that was a pathetically thin hope, but I wasn’t coming up with anything better.

  “I’ll have you singing a very different tune by the time I’m through with you,” she said, her good humor restored by whatever she had in mind. “If I’d had any idea what you would do to my life, I’d have killed you when I first met you. It would have been so easy.” She shook her head at herself.

  Arawn had told me that she didn’t want to use me against Titania anymore, that she was likely out to kill me. The fact that I was still alive now suggested either that Arawn was wrong, or that she had something worse than a quick death in mind. Dread pooled in my gut, because I didn’t think Arawn was wrong.

  “Why?” I asked her, stalling for time. “I’ve never done anything to you. Why are you so hot to kill me? I’m just a kid. Your brother’s kid.” Not that Grace had shown any sign she was attached to my father, although I thought he’d been at least somewhat attached to her.

  Grace laughed. “Before you came to Avalon, I was one of the leading candidates for Consul. I was wealthy, and respected, and powerful. Now I am exiled from my home, I have a price on my head throughout Faerie, and the Wild Hunt is on my trail. All. Because. Of. You.”

  Yep. She was certifiable. And obviously determined to blame me for all the stupid crap she’d done. “No one forced you to kidnap me in the first place. If you’d just kept on living your life like normal, none of this would have happened.” Of course, I knew I wasn’t going to talk Grace out of her vendetta. In the battle between logic and crazy, crazy always wins. And however sweet Grace may have thought her life was before I came to Avalon, she hadn’t gone from perfectly well-adjusted useful member of society to psycho killer bitch overnight. Whatever was wrong with her, it had been festering a long time. My arrival was just the trigger that set her off.

  Aunt Grace couldn’t refute my accusation, so she ignored it instead. “I’d have been shocked if you’d have lived out this year, even if I weren’t after you myself. Seamus was a fool to bring a stupid mortal child here when he knew what trouble you would bring with you.”

  I fought back my urge to argue that I wasn’t stupid, seeing as she had me trapped here. If only I’d been willing to tell Ethan about the Erlking’s brooch, I’d be perfectly safe right now, and Ethan wouldn’t have gotten shot.

  Trying to look completely casual, I slipped my hand into the pocket of my jeans. The brooch was right there, and it was very likely that if I pricked my finger, neither Aunt Grace nor her henchmen would be able to see me, even though they knew I was here. It was tempting, but I wasn’t sure how Aunt Grace would react if I suddenly disappeared.

  Surreptitiously, I glanced down at Ethan. He was leaning against the wall of the tunnel, his eyes closed, his face pale. I didn’t think he was unconscious, but he definitely wasn’t in good shape. If I disappeared, I knew without a doubt Grace would use him as a hostage, and since I couldn’t make the charm stop working until time was up, that meant Ethan would die.

  “That boy is your Achilles heel,” Grace said. “I knew if I kept a close watch on him, you’d show up on his doorstep eventually, but I never dreamed you’d be so accommodating as to show up alone.” She cocked her gun and pointed it at Ethan.

  I didn’t even think about it; I just stepped between them, blocking Grace’s shot. She smirked.

  “You can’t protect him from both myself and Fred at the same time. But I’m not planning to kill him. Not unless you make me, that is. And no, I’m not planning to let my friends kill him, either. I want him alive.”

  “Why?” I asked, because I couldn’t imagine what she’d have to gain by letting Ethan go.

  Her smile broadened. “I will explain in just a moment.”

  Ethan tried to call out a warning, but it was too late. I started to turn around, but before I could dodge or block or even duck, lineman Fred’s fist connected with my chin and sent me flying into the opposite wall. The whole world seemed to tilt sideways, and the walls of the tunnel closed in on me.

  * * *

  I woke up to find my situation had not improved. My head throbbed viciously, and my stomach lurched. I blinked and pushed myself up into a sitting position.

  I was still on the floor of the tunnel, approximately where I’d landed when Fred had hit me. He stood towering over me, his arms crossed over his barrel chest. He was so big he practically filled the tunnel, and even if my head hadn’t been swimming, I wouldn’t have been able to dart around him.

  I turned to look in the other direction, and my stomach gave another lurch. While I’d been out, Grace and her other friend had dragged Ethan about ten yards down the tunnel. Her friend held Ethan’s sagging body up, with his arms pinned behind his back, while Grace held her gun to his head. She smiled at me again. She was having a grand ol’ time.

  “As I said, your Achilles heel.” She licked her lips. “You were willing to risk a great deal when the Erlking took him, now weren’t you?”

  I didn’t really think that question required an answer, so I just stared at her. How the hell was I going to get out of this? And get Ethan out of it, too? I hadn’t gone through everything I’d gone through just to let Aunt Grace kill him.

  “Do you know how old I am?” she asked, and I was totally startled by the question that seemed to come out of nowhere. I shook my head. I might have mentioned that I didn’t care, either, except I was still kind of dopey after that blow to my head.

  “I am almost two thousand,” she said.

  My mind couldn’t encompass that. I’d known she was old, but I’d somehow thought her age numbered in centuries, not freakin’ millennia.

  “When I was a young woman, all of Faerie was practically under siege.”

  “By the Erlking,” I said, because I couldn’t imagine any other reason she’d be telling me this.

  “Indeed,” she confirmed with a nod. “He and his Wild Hunt were the creatures of nightmare, even to the Unseelie Court, who are nightmares themselves. No one liked to admit it, but he was a match even for the Queens, and his power kept growing greater and greater. Until one of Mab’s spies discovered his secret power, the power that was helping him grow stronger, and Mab spread the word throughout all of Faerie.”

  Her eyes shone in the artificial glow of her light spell, and I could tell she was really, really enjoying herself. Which meant that whatever the point of this story was, I was going to hate it.

  “It was around this time that Titania launched her great campaign against the Erlking and learned the hard way that he had grown too powerful for her to defeat. He stole my nephew, forced him to become part of the Wild Hunt. It was a bold and brilliant move, proving to both the Queens that he had the power to take from them even those who were closest to them. However, the Courts now knew his secret power and could guard against him using it. And so the Erlking proposed a truce with the Queens. He would never again kill any member of their Courts without their permission. And they would bind their Courts to secrecy, to hide his secret power from future generations.”

  This was way more than my dad had ever told me about the Erlking’s bargain with the Queens. He’d given me the impression that the geis wouldn’t allow him to speak about it at all, but apparently that wasn’t the case, at least not for Aunt Grace.

  “Shall I tell you the Erlking�
��s secret?” Grace asked, chortling.

  I blinked at her. My heart was beating like a frightened rabbit’s, and my mouth was completely dry. Anything that made her that happy was not a good thing for me. Not at all.

  “You can’t,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper as dread tried to steal my breath. “The geis…”

  She laughed, the sound echoing hollowly against the stone. “Oh, but I can, my dear. You see, the geis only applies to those who are affiliated with the Courts. Those of us who were born in Faerie were dedicated to our Courts while still infants, and unless we perform a ritual to formally sever our ties, we are still subject to them. Avalon may have treaties with Faerie, but if the Queens wanted to call their subjects back, most of the Fae would obey their call.

  “But thanks to you, my own beloved Queen ordered my execution and sent the Wild Hunt after me.” Her face twisted in a snarl, and the hate in her eyes was so intense I felt it almost like a physical blow. “With my life forfeit anyway, it meant nothing to me to sever my ties to the Seelie Court. And when I severed the ties, the geis lost its power to silence me.”

  My mind reeled as I tried to take this all in. Things were starting to click into place in the back of my head. I could feel it happening, but I couldn’t seem to wrap my brain around it, and I was pretty sure I didn’t want to.

  “Let me take a wild guess as to what you promised the Erlking in return for your boyfriend’s freedom,” she continued, her eyes aglow. “Did you by any chance pledge to give him your virginity?”

  I really, really wanted to deny it, but I was too shocked to say anything. Even as hurt as Ethan was, he managed to raise his head and look at me with widened eyes. I hated my own cowardice as I dropped my gaze.

  “Of course you did, because there is nothing he could want from you more than that. Because, you see, therein lies his secret power. When a virgin gives herself to him of her own free will, he can take from her everything she has, everything she is. All her power becomes his, all her life force becomes his, and when it is over she is nothing but an empty shell that once was a person but will never be again.”