One Blood Ruby, Page 3

  “He keeps his own counsel,” she said mildly. Calder and Nacton, her Seelie brothers, hated her. They weren’t pleased that she had survived her infancy, and they certainly weren’t fond of the queen. To them, the courts would be better served separately. Then they could rule as they wished, once their father was dead.

  It wasn’t the least popular theory in the Hidden Lands. There were those who thought the Queen of Blood and Rage had carried on her vengeful war too long. Of course, there were plenty of others who thought the declaration of peace was a mistake. The problem with the fae, in Eilidh’s opinion, was that so few of them thought about the fae not born of their own court, and hardly anyone thought about the fae-bloods trapped in the humans’ lands. Worse still, many of them failed to think about the first reason the courts had withdrawn from living with humanity so long ago: the earth was thick with toxins. Humans had done that. They were still doing it.

  Of course, there were laws, attempts to stop the destruction of the environment, but as long as the fae hid and waged war, the humans would not understand the effect of their recklessness and nothing would change. Change required massive action. It required courage and a willingness to put everything on the table. It required sacrifice.

  While Seelie- and Unseelie-born alike had the Hidden Lands to nourish them, the lands outside their small corner were growing sicker by the year. In time, that poison would infiltrate their home too. Sometimes Eilidh tasted it in the waters. Eventually, they would have even less space than they had now. It was unhealthy to expect eternity in the little land they’d claimed as their own. Something needed to be done.

  On that, the King of Fire and Truth was her greatest ally. While the queen had thought much of blood and revenge, the king had planned for the future. The Queen of Blood and Rage had ordered fae males to impregnate human volunteers—women either desperate for a child, sympathetic to her cause, or willing to accept a payment—so that she could create half-fae, half-human soldiers.

  The king had looked at the same Sleepers the queen had used for her warfare, and he’d sent them different orders—ones that moved his plans for legal and criminal acts that furthered the protection of the earth. He’d been working toward a society where the fae and fae-bloods could come out of hiding and affect change. In ways that no one realized, the King of Fire and Truth was fighting for their people and humanity.

  “We destroyed another company,” the king said in a cheerful voice. “Water polluters this time.”

  Leith had used the very tools that the queen had crafted for killing to do it, employing the Black Diamonds even though the queen had forbidden it.

  “Mother will figure out that you’re using her toys again,” Eilidh told her father, as she always did.

  He grinned cheerfully. “I do count on it. She does enjoy threatening me, and my borrowing her soldiers always makes her surly.” He took a big drink of his tea. He might love the trappings of civility, but at heart, the king was no more civilized than any of the fae. “Your mother never quite mastered the idea of sharing, you know?”

  Eilidh politely kept her mouth shut and studied the trays of treats on the table. She was genuinely hungry. The king might be a glutton for conflict with his wife, but he did attempt to be a kind parent.

  “Do you suppose you have fewer scars these past few months or am I simply no longer as bothered by them?” Leith asked after selecting a biscuit for himself.

  “I have no idea, Father.” Eilidh bit the scone she’d pulled from the middle tier. A mouth full of tasty food was her best answer just then. The alternative was pointing out her father’s rudeness.

  He was a beautiful man, tall and handsome. It was no wonder that the queen glared so at the Seelie-born women who stood too near him. For all of her posturing at not caring, the queen was just as smitten as the king. She was terror, where he was loveliness. Eilidh, despite being born to be the best of both courts, was neither gorgeous nor terrifying.

  She sat on the shore and ate in silence with her father. Tomorrow, she’d visit the queen. Being the child of two courts was not an easy burden.

  six

  LILYDARK

  As Creed left Lily’s room, she was still smiling. Kissing didn’t fix everything; neither did his embrace. Yet, sometimes they made her feel invulnerable. It was an illusion, maybe because they were both fae-blood, maybe because they meshed so well. She didn’t know. All she could say for certain was that it was a feeling she’d fight to keep now that she’d experienced it.

  First though, she had to talk to her father about her new status. The Queen of Blood and Rage and the King of Fire and Truth hadn’t yet announced her to the human world as their heir, but they would be doing so in the coming weeks. She had to prepare—and part of preparing was having a plan. So many humans had died during the war. Lily couldn’t expect things to go smoothly for her, at least not if she were realistic. Her father was a wise man, one capable of ruling his own empire as a king of sorts, so seeking his counsel was something she should’ve already done.

  The summons from him wasn’t unexpected. Daidí might not have reached the point of embedding a tracking device in her body, but Lily was fairly sure he’d at least considered it. She’d thought him overprotective at the best of times, but now and again that veered into paranoia. After meeting her maternal grandparents, she thought she understood why.

  They were intimidating even at their kindest, and Lily’s mother was their missing daughter. The news was a surprise to her, but Daidí had always known. Even with a massive criminal network at his fingertips, he wouldn’t have been able to withstand them if they’d come for her. No human could stand against a fae regent. Likely, very few fae could stand against her grandparents either. He had to have known that for her whole life.

  Lily was sometimes grateful she hadn’t known. Being the heir to the fae queen wasn’t an enviable position. Although Lily had already been the heir to a criminal enterprise, this was . . . more deadly. She would be queen of the monsters, sole keeper of the Hidden Throne. Even if she took a spouse one day—which was inevitable—she’d be the one ruling. She’d be their queen. It wasn’t a future she’d even imagined. Becoming a princess . . . it felt nothing like in the fairy tales that still existed in her world. In those make-believe stories, being a princess was a lovely thing. The stories about the fae, however, were altogether different sorts of tales, recounting a vengeful queen in blood-red armor, a faery mother whose loss of her daughter started a war against the world.

  Lily’s own story would also be a fae story, one filled with violence and lies, not with midnight dances and charming princes.

  Carefully, she let her fingertips rest on the necklace that she’d been unwilling to remove since it had arrived. Even now, she preferred to think of it as a necklace, but she—and her friends—knew it for what it truly was: the crown of the heir to the Hidden Throne. At her touch and will, the stones became as ink of flesh, sinking into her skin as if they’d only ever been a tattoo. The crown was, by this very trait, nearly impossible to steal from her.

  At a quick rap, Lily opened the door to her suite. She hadn’t expected Hector so quickly, but he must’ve had someone in the area. Smiling, she yanked open the door. “That was fast.”

  “Excuse me?” a tall pale man in a wrongly cut suit replied.

  She stared at the two strangers in the hall. Hector, her usual bodyguard, wasn’t among them. Neither had the darker skin of those from the southern continent, either. Her father often used the Gaviria family’s employees as escorts for her. The men at her door were strangers. They weren’t an obvious part of either of her worlds, the fae one or the criminal one.

  “Abernathy?” the same man who had spoken a moment ago asked. He was presumably the leader.

  Lily stared at him, trying to see who or what he was. These were not her father’s men at all. Their suits weren’t as fine as his top guards wore, and the accent in the speaker’s voice lacked the rhythm of those who were accustomed to speaki
ng in Spanish, as all Gaviria employees must.

  A second man added, “Are you Nick Abernathy’s daughter?”

  The back of her neck tickled at his words. There was something in his cadence that felt familiar. She didn’t quite hear the sea under those sounds, but there was enough of lilt of a wave in the air that made her meet the man’s eyes. He wasn’t obviously other, but Lily recognized him now as a fae-blood.

  Since donning the crown less than a month ago, Lily had been able to tell, to feel the fae strands in people who passed as human. Sometimes, she suspected they didn’t even know about their heritage, but she could tell. Without even a pause, she could look at or hear a person and simply know that they were of her kind. It made a certain sense that she couldn’t deny. To rule a people, one had to be able to feel them, to find them and know that they belong to you. This man was one of hers.

  “I have no comment,” she dissembled, starting to push the door closed. As an Abernathy, talking to the police was never a good idea.

  The first of the men raised his hand, stopping the door. “Lilywhite Abernathy.”

  Lily held her voice steady and said, “Unless you have an actual warrant for my arrest, you can go. Now.”

  The fae-blood reached forward as if he’d grab her forearm. When his fingertips grazed her skin, he stopped. He withdrew so he was just shy of touching her, eyes widening, hand hovering over her arm.

  “Attempting to arrest her would be a mistake,” said a soft voice.

  The men turned to watch as Alkamy strode through the hallway toward them, her tiny feet coming down hard with each step so that Lily could dance to the rhythm of her walk. Violet, who had spoken, was just behind her. For reasons Lily didn’t want to guess, she was carrying a sword. She held it at her side, but it was far from subtle. The third of their group, Will, strolled up casually. He looked wet, like he’d either just stepped out of the shower or been swimming. Both were possible since his boyfriend was a water affinity.

  “Hi,” he said. “Officers? I’m Senator Parrish’s son, William.”

  The fae-blood was suddenly watching Alkamy and Violet. Lily could all but hear the gears clicking. He’d felt Lily’s lack of humanity in their almost-touch, and the sight of her companions gave him further pause. When his eyes dropped to the rapier that Violet held in her hand, there was no way he wasn’t thinking of the Hidden Court. Fae-blood, open weapons, and now a senator’s son . . . he was suddenly much more respectful.

  “Parrish?” he echoed. Then, he cleared his throat and added, “And you’re—”

  “Violet Lamb.” The flame-haired actress grinned at him as she slid closer to Lily. Her every acting skill came into play as she sounded and looked far friendlier than she undoubtedly felt. She’d moved so she stood between the presumed officers and Lily, the sword still in her hand.

  At a look from Lily, Will nodded and walked away. Violet was more than defense enough against a single human and a fae-blood. Beside which, Lily was plenty adept at self-defense.

  Alkamy said nothing, but she came to stand beside Lily. She was not the one who would start a conflict. That would be Violet. She was all fire. It was as much her affinity as her personality, volatile and stunning. Alkamy would draw blood only if absolutely necessary.

  “I was practicing,” Violet said, lifting her sword into position as if to demonstrate. “Fencing.”

  “We don’t want trouble,” the fae-blood stranger said calmly.

  The other officer glanced at him incredulously, but he continued, “There are some questions we would like to ask you, Miss Abernathy, so—”

  “Then you’d best talk to my family.” Lily touched his wrist briefly, letting her fire affinity ease through her skin and warm him.

  He stared at her, looking at her face more carefully.

  “Nick Abernathy isn’t even in the country right now,” the oblivious first officer said. He glared at Violet. “Put that away, miss.”

  Violet ignored him.

  “None of my family members are in this country,” Lily said softly, her gaze fixed on the fae-blood officer. “That doesn’t mean they would respond well to my being harassed. Some would be enraged, in fact.”

  The fae-blood’s eyes widened as she let the air carry the word “rage” to sting his skin, trying to convey just who they would be crossing. There was a moment, a brief heartbeat of an instant, when she knew that he’d been to the Hidden Lands at some point. He studied her face again, and the horror of whom they would be angering filled his eyes. He swallowed visibly.

  The other officer reached out, but Violet shifted her sword so the point of it was at his chest.

  “Remove that,” he ordered.

  “You’re frightening her,” the fae-blood said. “She’s not going to hurt you. Right, Miss Lamb?”

  “Give me the word, Lily,” Violet said in a low voice. Her flickers of flame weren’t yet visible, but like everything else since Lily had donned the fae crown, the promise of the fire in Violet’s skin was intense enough that she could feel it building. The embers grew warmer, and the crackle of burning coals seemed to resonate within her body.

  “There is no threat here,” Lily said levelly.

  She extended her hand to touch Violet’s back, pulling her friend’s fire into her own body, letting the heating embers flow toward her to calm Violet.

  “These men are leaving. Unless they have a valid warrant”—Lily paused and let her gaze drift over the two adult men—“there is absolutely no way I’m going anywhere.”

  “We have questions that need answers, Miss Abernathy. You could come with us on your own accord.”

  Lily shook her head. “You’re welcome to risk the consequences of taking me in, but I’m not going anywhere with you by choice.”

  “Are you threatening us, Miss Abernathy?”

  The fae-blood opened his mouth to speak, but the sound of footsteps interrupted him. Lily wasn’t sure whether she was relieved or not when she noticed who it was.

  Hector came toward them; he was half-grinning as he approached. His sheer size and bulk were intimidating, but that expression made Lily shake her head. Like Violet, Hector was primed for conflict, but she wouldn’t be able to restrain him as easily.

  She’d had no intention of going with the officers, but she’d hoped that it would be resolved without violence. Will followed Hector silently.

  The human officer looked relieved. “Hector Adams. There are warrants for your arrest.”

  “Usually are,” Hector said with a shrug. He looked at Lily again. “Call the boss? Tell him I was arrested.”

  She nodded.

  He shucked his suit coat, unfastened his holster, and removed it. His gun was still in the leather sheath, and Hector was carefully not letting his fingers even brush it. There was no mistaking his actions, no chance to say that he’d gone for his weapon. In truth, he was exceedingly refined in his movements. Slowly, he extended both the jacket and holster to her.

  “Go inside, Lily.” Hector ordered. “All of you. Keep the door closed until Raoul arrives.”

  Again, she nodded.

  “Might as well enjoy myself,” Hector pronounced. Then he proceeded to tackle the fully human guard.

  Mutely, Lily led her friends inside her suite. Hector would handle the police. He’d done so more than once in his tenure with the Abernathy family. It was his job—and if she went outside, she might very well be arrested too, which would draw the ire of both Daidí and Endellion.

  So she glanced once more at Hector and then closed the door on the brawl that was about to erupt in the corridor. She wanted to join in, to protect him, to make them admit that they had no just cause to even be there. None of that was an option, so she leaned on the closed door and waited.

  seven

  ZEPHYR

  Zephyr wasn’t accustomed to time alone the past few weeks. His world had been turned upside down. He’d discovered that his true father was the son of the Queen of Blood and Rage. Although Zephyr had alw
ays wanted to believe he was important in the Hidden Lands, being Rhys’ son—and therefore the queen’s grandson—was daunting.

  Since discovering he had a son, Rhys had taken to training him. Zephyr was grateful, but longed for more time with Alkamy. Now that he’d been given leave to date Alkamy, he wanted to spend every possible moment with her. He wouldn’t say he’d sold his soul for permission to be with the person he loved, but he understood that any bargain with the queen was somehow in her best interest.

  Initially, the queen had intended that he would wed his cousin, LilyDark, but that had been set aside when Lily herself made clear that her dating life was not going to be managed by the regents of the Hidden Lands. It was her only point of negotiation that had to do with her own interests. Most of her concerns were for others.

  As much as Zephyr was glad that he was free to be with Alkamy simply because he loved her, there was also an undeniable part of him that realized that his cousin, the future ruler of the fae and fae-bloods, was going to be a formidable woman. As a cousin, a friend, a queen he would one day serve, LilyDark Abernathy was remarkable. Dating her would have been a lifelong battle of wills, and the mere thought of it was exhausting.

  So too was the life he was living. He’d already been skilled with swords, daggers, and guns, but apparently that skill was not enough.

  “We don’t have training for several hours,” Zephyr said when he heard his father arrive in the walled garden. “What if I’d been here with a . . . girl or . . . busy?”

  “Do you often have relations with girls in the garden?” Rhys asked the question in a tone that said he was more curious than concerned. “I’m never sure how fae your behavior is.”

  Zephyr shook his head. There was no way to answer that without sounding rude. Sometimes silence was the best choice. He watched his father, finding it oddly unsettling to see his own expressions and movements in another person—in a virtual stranger.

  “It’s been several centuries since I spent social time in this world,” Rhys continued as he unpacked a satchel of weapons. “I think the customs are different. Women were more at ease with nakedness out of doors than they seem now.”