Sirensong f-3 Read online

  “The people who live here don’t seem happy to see us,” I murmured as I swayed on my feet, tempted to just curl up on the ground and go to sleep because that would save me the trouble of having to walk. The couple who’d come out of the house to greet Henry were both smiling, but there was a hint of a manic gleam in their eyes that made the smiles false.

  Dad made a sound that was half snort, half laugh. “They’ll be expected to feed and house everyone in our party, whether they’re prepared for us or not. It’s considered an honor to host the prince and his entourage, but it’s a damned expensive nuisance, too.”

  “And they’re not allowed to say no, right?”

  “Right,” Dad confirmed as servants came to commandeer our horses and lead them toward one of the outbuildings, which was apparently a stable.

  The prince’s servants were all frantically busy, and the Knights were still visibly on duty, keeping a careful eye on their liege. A couple of the servants were directing the more aristocratic of Henry’s entourage toward the main house, where I gathered they would be given lodgings. By the time one of those servants reached us, Ethan, Keane, and Kimber had joined us. In the distance, I saw Finn leading his horse toward the barn, and it burned me that he was considered to be of lower class than people like my father. I know humans have a class system, too, but the Fae take it to a whole different level.

  The servant bowed slightly before addressing my father. “You and your daughter will be in the main house,” he said. He turned to Keane. “You and your companions”—his gaze flicked briefly to Ethan and Kimber—“will be in the servants’ quarters.”

  I felt an instant surge of indignation on my friends’ behalf, and despite my best intentions to abide by the local customs in Faerie, there was no way I was letting that one go. I opened my mouth to protest, but to my surprise, my dad beat me to it.

  “That is not acceptable,” he said, sounding every bit as snooty as the prince at that moment. “These young people are my daughter’s companions, and they are under my care. They will be lodging with us.”

  I never would have expected my dad to stand up for the son of a Knight and a pair of Unseelie kids who were de facto second-class citizens in Seelie territory, but there was no hint of give in his voice.

  The servant looked alarmed and distinctly uncomfortable. “I beg your pardon, sir, but our hosts—”

  “We will need three rooms,” my dad said over him. “One for me, one for the boys, and one for the girls.”

  I felt bad for the servant, who was obviously getting stuck in the middle of this mess, and sorry for our beleaguered host and hostess, whoever they were. I considered suggesting we all stay in the servants’ quarters, but knew there was no way that would fly with my dad. Maybe being relegated to the servants’ quarters was one of those “signs of weakness” my dad had told me we couldn’t afford. I bit my tongue on a number of comments that would probably have been unwise under the circumstances.

  Another servant, this time a smiling woman I was pretty sure worked for our hosts rather than for Henry, hurried over to us. “Of course, sir,” she said, shooting Henry’s servant a disparaging look, “we will be happy to accommodate you and the children. There has obviously been a misunderstanding. Please, follow me.”

  Gee, it felt so good to be called “the children” again. Made me feel real grown up and respected. I suspected it bothered the boys, who were both eighteen, even more than it did me. I glanced at their faces, and realized they were too busy giving each other dirty looks to notice. Putting the two of them in a room together might be dangerous. I hoped the house would still be standing by the time we hit the road again tomorrow.

  * * *

  My first day in Faerie ended with me sharing a large feather bed with Kimber in a room made almost entirely of dirt. Not that you could tell it was dirt unless you looked at it real closely. The floor and ceiling were of packed red clay so smooth it looked like tile, and the walls were an intricate pattern of earth tones from ivory to nearly black, giving the impression of a series of mosaics. I tried touching a finger to the designs in the wall, and though the texture felt rough and grainy—you know, like dirt—it was packed in so solidly that even when I scratched it with my fingernail, nothing came loose.

  “What happens when it rains?” I wondered aloud, trying not to imagine all that dirt turning to mud and collapsing on my head while I slept.

  “Remember, we’re in Faerie,” Kimber reminded me, yawning behind her hand. “This house is held together by magic. I’m sure it could weather a storm.”

  Her yawn was contagious, and I eyed the bed longingly. I’d never shared a bed before, and if I were any less tired, I might have worried I wouldn’t be able to sleep. As it was, that wasn’t an issue. The only issue was forcing myself to clean up before collapsing into bed, but I was tired of smelling like horse. With a minimum of exploring, Kimber and I found a bathroom, which had a soaking tub and a steaming waterfall that served as a shower. Claiming excess modesty once more, I insisted Kimber and I take turns, even though we probably could have fit a half dozen people under that waterfall. It delayed getting to bed even longer, but it once again allowed me to keep the Erlking’s mark hidden.

  I fell asleep the moment my head hit the pillow. About sixty seconds later, there was someone sitting on the side of my bed, shaking my shoulder. I made an incoherent sound of protest and tried to swat the hand away, my eyes firmly closed. The hand just shook me harder, and Keane’s voice hissed in my ear.

  “Wake up, lazy,” he said. “It’s Thursday morning.”

  This time, the sound I made was more like a snarl, and I sat up in bed, jerking away from the touch of his hand. Pink-tinged light streamed in from the windows. I rubbed my eyes, but the light was still there. Guess I’d gotten more than sixty seconds of sleep after all. I glanced at my watch and saw that it was six AM. I’d slept for eight hours, and I was more than willing to collapse back into bed and sleep eight more.

  “What are you doing here?” I growled at Keane, who was already fully dressed and showered, looking wide awake and completely impatient.

  “Thursday morning,” he reminded me. “I know we don’t usually practice this early, but I’m not sure what time we’re going to hit the road this morning.”

  Thursday morning. Practice. I groaned. “You have got to be kidding me. We are not having a lesson today!”

  He crossed his arms over his chest and raised his eyebrows. “Says who?”

  Beside me, Kimber stirred and mumbled, “Turn the radio off.”

  “I see no reason to skip practice just because we’re on the road,” Keane replied, ignoring Kimber’s sleepy protest. “Now get your ass out of bed, get dressed, and meet me in front of the stables in thirty minutes or less.”

  Kimber seemed to realize now that the noises disturbing her didn’t come from a radio after all. She raised her head and squinted at Keane. Her hair was a frizzy, tangled mess, and there were pillow lines on her face, but I saw Keane’s eyes stray to her and widen. Even with bedhead, she was disgustingly gorgeous, especially in the royal blue silk nightgown she was wearing. Me, I’d gone with a ratty T-shirt and flannel boxer shorts, and I suspected I looked about as appetizing as roadkill.

  I reminded myself that Keane was an annoying jerk who woke me up at an ungodly hour because he wanted to spar after one of the longest days of my entire life. I didn’t care if he thought I’d give Medusa a run for her money in the Ugly Olympics.

  “Sorry to wake you,” Keane said to Kimber. “Just give your bedmate a nice kick in the ass to get her moving and we’ll let you get back to sleep.”

  Kimber pushed her hair back from her face. “Thirty minutes, in front of the stable, is that what you said?”

  “Yup.”

  “I’ll get her there.”

  “Traitor,” I grumbled, belatedly remembering that Kimber was much more of a morning person than me. She was already starting to look almost perky, while I was still wishing for toothpi
cks to hold my eyes open.

  “I hate you,” I told Keane, inspiring a self-satisfied grin.

  “Not as much as you will in thirty minutes if you’re not down by the stables like I told you.”

  I gave his shoulder a shove. I knew he’d have no compunction about throwing me over his shoulder and carrying me down if I didn’t show up. “Get out of here so I can get dressed. I am going to be so motivated you’re going to wish you let me sleep in.”

  It was an empty threat, of course. I was sure that as usual, I’d have trouble landing a single blow unless he let me. But it sure wasn’t going to stop me from trying.

  * * *

  The last thing I wanted was an audience for my sparring session with Keane. I was self-conscious about my lack of skill, and I was pretty sure some of the positions we ended up in were … less than dignified. But once Kimber got the idea in her head of seeing Keane in action, there was no stopping her from tagging along. There was a definite sparkle in her eyes and a spring in her step as we both hurried to get dressed and get to the stables.

  “It’s really not going to be that interesting,” I told her, hoping I was just imagining the hint of desperation in my voice. Kimber was always so graceful and elegant, and I was anything but. I suspected I’d be even more of a klutz today, considering how stiff and sore every muscle below my waist felt. I was not looking forward to another day on horseback.

  Kimber gave a huff of exasperation. “I’m not going to be watching you, dummy.” She grinned at me and waggled her brows. “Do you think you can get him sweaty enough to take off his shirt?”

  I rolled my eyes. “I’ll be lucky if he works hard enough for a hair on his head to move. Like I said, not that entertaining.”

  “I’ll be the judge of that,” she replied as she led the way out of our room.

  As reluctant as I was to have Kimber watch me make a fool of myself, it was probably a good thing she came along, or I’d have made at least three wrong turns before I found my way out of the massive house. My sense of direction sucks, and I’d been so tired the night before I’d barely paid attention to where I was going.

  It seemed the people of this house were not exactly early risers. The halls were deserted and silent as Kimber and I made our way toward the front door. Which made it even more shocking when we turned one corner and came upon a brown-skinned creature about three feet in height. Its back was to us, but when I made a little squeak of surprise, it whirled around, displaying a mouth full of teeth that would have looked at home in a shark.

  The creature was naked except for a loin cloth, its skin a wrinkled, leathery brown like it had spent a lifetime baking in the sun. Saggy boobs that hung to its waist like partially deflated balloons declared the creature was female.

  Sure it was going to pounce on me and sink those wicked-sharp teeth into my throat, I let out a choked cry of alarm and leapt backward, practically knocking Kimber down. The creature made a very similar sound, leapt backward … and disappeared.

  Hyperventilating, I grabbed hold of Kimber’s arm as I looked wildly around.

  “Where is it? Where’d it go?” I was still waiting for the attack, adrenaline pumping through my system. In fact, I was so primed for attack that it took me a moment to realize Kimber was laughing. Laughing so hard tears were leaking out of the corners of her eyes.

  Her laughter calmed my panic, and I let go of her arm. The heat in my cheeks told me I was blushing, though I wasn’t yet sure exactly what I was supposed to be embarrassed about. I was sure she’d enlighten me as soon as she stopped laughing uncontrollably.

  I glared at Kimber. “What the hell was that? And where did it go?”

  Kimber cleared her throat, and I could see she was still struggling against laughter. “That was a Brownie. I’m sure there are at least a dozen of them on staff here, but they don’t like to be seen.”

  If the one I’d just laid eyes on was typical, I could see why. “That’s a Brownie? As in the helpful little fairies who clean house and cook?” I’d never put much thought into what a Brownie might look like, but it sure as hell wasn’t like that. I was going to have freaking nightmares.

  “Brownies as in the lowest ranking of all the sentient Seelie Fae, who are employed for menial labor by the Sidhe. Not only do they not like to be seen, but the Sidhe don’t like to see them. Don’t tell anyone you caught sight of one, or they might track her down and dismiss her.”

  Geez, it sounded like being treated like a second-class citizen would be an upgrade for the poor creatures. The Fae and their stupid class system! “I’m surprised Henry doesn’t have an army of them traveling with us to take care of his every need,” I grumbled as I started forward again. The adrenaline rush had been as effective as any cup of coffee, and I was finally feeling awake and alert.

  “I’m sure he does,” Kimber said as she fell into step beside me. “They’re just better at their jobs than this one.”

  I came to a stop. “Wait. You mean there are a whole bunch of those creatures traveling with us? And we’ve never caught sight of them?”

  She nodded. “Yes, of course. Now hurry up or we’re going to be late.”

  We hurried up, but we were still late. Keane had his arms crossed over his chest and was tapping his foot impatiently when we arrived. He frowned when he caught sight of Kimber, though that didn’t stop him from giving her a quick, head-to-toe examination. She looked fabulous as always, with her stylish khaki pants and her blue silk tank top. Not exactly rugged, horseback-riding wear, but Kimber was a big believer in form over function. I felt like an ugly stepsister standing beside her in my loose, faded T-shirt and my black yoga pants. (Pants I had to carry in my backpack, because they were made with Lycra and would disintegrate if they got outside my Faeriewalker aura.)

  “Dana would probably be in Outer Mongolia right now if she didn’t have someone to guide her here,” Kimber said to explain her presence, and she and Keane shared a good laugh at my expense. I decided to take a page out of Keane’s book and go on the offensive before our lesson had officially started.

  While he and Kimber were yucking it up, I aimed a sweeping kick at his calves. If he’d have been as unprepared as he looked, I might have had the satisfaction of seeing him land on his butt in a patch of what I suspected was horse poop. But, of course, I never get that lucky.

  Keane jumped nimbly over my kick and was on me almost before he came down. His fist connected with my right shoulder, and my entire arm went temporarily numb. I tried to backpedal to avoid the next blow, but he was too fast for me. I partially blocked his next punch with my left arm, but it’s my weak side, and I found myself sprawled on the ground anyway. I hoped I hadn’t landed in the patch of manure, but I didn’t have time to worry about it as I rolled to avoid Keane’s pounce. He kindly allowed me to get to my feet before launching himself at me again. He locked his arms around me, pinning my own arms against my sides. I head-butted his chin—I’d have liked to aim for his nose, but I was too short to reach from this position. My forehead slammed into his shield spell, and I know for a fact it hurt me more than it hurt him.

  “Good,” he said, still holding me there, arms pinned, “but you need to follow up in case the first blow wasn’t enough.”

  No matter how much training Keane had given me, I was still squeamish about going for his groin. I knew I wouldn’t hit anything except his shield spell, but still, aiming a kick or a knee there just felt wrong.

  “Let’s just pretend I followed up with a knee and leave it at that,” I panted.

  “Sure,” Keane agreed, too easily. “Then we’ll also just pretend I let go.”

  He dropped to the ground, and with my arms pinned, there was nothing I could do to soften the fall. My breath whooshed out of me, and then Keane’s weight came crashing down on top of me, and I thought I was about to die as my lungs fought for oxygen.

  Dammit, would I never learn?

  Keane lay still on top of me as I struggled to get air into my lungs. His eye
s widened as they locked on something behind me I couldn’t see, and then his lips split into a grin. I figured Kimber was probably giving him an adoring “oh, my hero” look, appreciating his manly prowess. I tried to lurch into action before I was truly ready, which was never smart. I tried a sharp roll to my right, but it was hard to put much oomph in it while I was still struggling for breath, and we moved all of about two centimeters. Keane punished me for it with a tap on the chin—not a real punch, just a reminder that I hadn’t improved my situation by being impatient.

  I sucked in a couple more breaths, regaining my strength as Keane continued to grin down at me. We were on the ground now instead of standing up, but we were essentially in the same position as we’d been before: my best shot at escape was brisk head butt, followed by a well-placed knee. I got Keane’s message loud and clear: he was not letting me go until I did what he wanted.

  “Fine,” I gritted out from between clenched teeth, then jerked my head upward until I slammed into his shield again. He pretended to be in horrible pain, dropping his guard so he wasn’t primed to protect himself. I jerked my knee up between his legs, wincing in anticipation despite knowing I wouldn’t hurt him.

  From behind me, I heard someone yell, “Down!”

  Magic tingled across my skin, and my knee made solid contact with something that most definitely was not Keane’s shield spell.

  Keane made a strangled noise and rolled off me, curling up practically in half as he clutched himself.

  I hastily pushed myself into a sitting position and looked over my shoulder. And discovered that Kimber was no longer our only audience. Standing beside her, grinning smugly, was Ethan, and I belatedly realized it was his voice I’d heard yelling. I glanced over at Keane, who was still writhing.

  “You took his shield spell down!”

  Ethan looked completely unrepentant. “Serves him right for hitting a girl.”

  “He’s my self-defense instructor, you asshole! He’s supposed to hit me.”

  Does it make me a bad person that I couldn’t help feeling just a little pleased by what Ethan had done? Considering how many times Keane had hurt or humiliated me during our sparring, it was kind of poetic justice. Not that I liked seeing him in pain or anything. Well, maybe just a little.