Cast in Faefire: An Urban Fantasy Romance (The Mage Craft Series Book 3) (18 page)

“I just think I’d be more helpful if I get turned into a vampire,” Seth said.

“You’ll have to walk me through the logic. I don’t understand.”

“If I become godly, I’ll be detached from this life. But if I become a vampire…I could stay.” He took one small step closer, as cautious as though approaching a wounded bird. “I could stay with you, Marion.”

* * *

S
eth wasn’t
sure how he had expected Marion to react to his offer. He knew he hadn’t expected her to laugh, though.

It was almost shrill, and that sounded so strange coming from her, especially now that she had on such careful makeup and her hair half-done. She looked like a supermodel who had been hired to play a queen in a movie, rather than a woman who was actually going to become a queen. Yet she laughed shrilly, a little hysterically, and it sounded
wrong
.

“Stay with me,” she said, dabbing under her eyes with her fingertips. “As a vampire.”

“Well, vampires don’t get along with sunlight, and there’s no sun in the Winter Court,” Seth said slowly. “I could stick around to defend you from Leliel, or whoever else attacks if Niflheimr’s wards fall. I mean, even if Konig gets his title stripped—you could still be safe, Marion. I’d protect you.”

She just kept laughing. Her shoulders shook, and then her whole body shook, and she covered her face with both hands.

It took a few seconds for her to stop trembling.

When her hands dropped again, she straightened her spine and her face was blank.

“I won’t need a vampire to guard me,” Marion said with strange detachment. “I’m going to marry Konig. He’ll be able to restore the wards even if his title is stripped, and we’ll handle Leliel when she comes.” Even when she was icy, she was beautiful. Maybe
especially
when she was icy.

Seth didn’t like her as much like this, with her hair twisted atop her head, and so much makeup he couldn’t see the texture of her flawless skin. He didn’t like when she smiled like she was hiding anger.

She’d been so different the night before.

Something was wrong.

“Talk to me,” Seth said. “I don’t have angel mind-reading powers. What’s going on in your head?”

She turned from him with a twist of her shoulders that all but screamed dismissiveness. “Go see Lucifer. It takes time to be transformed into a vampire, so you’ll want to start soon.” When she faced the window, the bright light spilled over one shoulder, highlighting the nape of her neck and fine hairs that hadn’t yet been pinned into place.

The skin was bruised. It looked like fingerprints.

Marion’s chilliness must have been contagious. It felt like the icy spires of Niflheimr had just taken up residence within Seth’s gut.

“Take off the robe,” Seth said.

She went rigid. “What?”

“The robe,” he said. “Drop it.”

Marion clutched it at her chest. “
Excuse
me. I’m getting married!”

“Don’t try to distract me. Let me see your back. You’re wounded.”

Her carefully constructed mask cracked. Her bottom lip trembled. “But Seth…” She didn’t move away when he approached her this time.

“Please?” Seth asked.

Marion nodded mutely, and she turned away from him again, letting the robe fall into the crooks of her elbows.

At another time, Seth would have been distracted by her spine’s graceful furrow dipping behind the laces of her loose corset. The blue-white of her undergarments offset her olive skin tones perfectly.

It also drew out the blue in her bruises.

Numerous markings mottled the skin he could see—and that was only what was exposed.

“Can I…?” he asked, tugging on the bow.

She nodded again without looking at him.

He unknotted the corset and slid a finger underneath the laces to loosen them. It fell apart under his hands, exposing a thin chemise underneath, which was little more than tissue.

Seth lifted it to see the damage.

And that was the only word for it. Damage.

Seth skimmed his palm over the bruises. They covered more space than his hands could with fingers spread. She shivered at the contact. “Did this happen when we fell in the pantry?”

“No, it wasn’t the fall.” She let the robe tumble completely off of one arm and showed it to him. It was definitely fingerprints on her smooth flesh. Someone had grabbed her hard—someone with a hand the size of an adult man’s.

Seth could only think of one man that Marion would allow close enough to do that.

“Konig?” The name came out flat, like death on his lips.

A tear slid down Marion’s cheek. She’d never been laughing. She had been trying not to cry.

Seth folded Marion into his arms, burying his nose in her hair, inhaling the scent of lavender and burned oak. A scent that was now as familiar to him as fresh-cut grass, and just as comforting.

Holding her was the only thing that kept the white light of rage from carrying Seth out of Marion’s bedroom to smear Konig’s pretty boy-band face across the throne room floor. But he couldn’t even hold her as tight as he wanted. Not without hurting her.

“What do you want to do about him?” Seth asked.

Marion’s fingers squeezed his arms. “What do
I
want to do?”

“I already know what I’d want to do to Konig.” Seth was having incredibly colorful thoughts about murdering Konig right at that moment—far from his typical thought processes, but irrepressible nonetheless. “What I want doesn’t matter, though. Tell me what needs to happen and I’ll make it happen.”

“Well,” Marion said, audibly swallowing, “I have to marry Konig.”

Seth took her gently by the upper arms, pushing her far enough back that he could see her. Her makeup was streaky. Her eyes were puffy. “You don’t
have
to do anything. Say the word and I’ll take you far away. Anywhere you want.”

“You don’t understand. I
want
to do this.” She managed to say that with conviction even though she was still crying. “I won’t be Queen of the Winter Court if I don’t.”
Her voice hitched. She scrubbed a hand over her eyes, smearing the makeup further. “And I love Konig.”

Of all the things she could have said, none shocked him as much as that. “He beat the crap out of you.”

“It was my fault. He heard that you and I were sneaking around last night and he thought…” Marion flinched as though she’d been hit all over again. “He got jealous.”

Seth searched for words and found none.

He gently sat Marion in front of the vanity, and then paced the room, seeking an outlet for that anger that didn’t involve throttling Konig. “Let’s say you were cheating on him with me. Or anyone else. Do you think that means you’d deserve to get hit?”

“Jealousy makes people irrational, and I’ve been getting on every one of Konig’s last nerves. I’ve been distant from him since I lost my memory. I haven’t…” She clapped a hand over her mouth, and she said, very quietly, “We haven’t been having sex. And he’s sidhe. It’s worse than hitting Konig.”

“No, as a matter of fact, it is fucking
not
,” Seth said.

“Konig and I haven’t been sleeping together. What is he supposed to think when you and I are seen…?” Her eyes flicked up to him, and then back down to her hands. Marion shook her head. “I hurt him long before he hurt me.”

“That’s bullshit. Jesus, Marion. This isn’t the ferocious woman I know talking. The woman who bullied me all the way up the Pacific Northwest, laid claim to my bank account, and invited herself on my trip to Sheol. What happened to
that
woman? The one entitled to whatever she wants?”

“She got everyone killed!” Marion cried out with sudden, shocking fierceness. “Don’t you realize, Seth? I was selfish and entitled and the refugees were killed!” He opened his mouth. She didn’t let him speak. “I’m a horrible person and everyone knows that. My own mother won’t be at the wedding!”

He dropped to his knees in front of her, clutching her hands. “Listen. We don’t hit the people we love. There is
no excuse
. Ever.” Seth swallowed down the knot in his throat. “I would never hurt you, Marion.” He pressed his forehead to hers. “Look inside. Read my mind.”

She pulled away without searching his thoughts. “How can you say that? You drank my blood in Sheol long before Konig ever struck me.”

A chill settled over Seth.

“It’s different,” he said hoarsely.

But is it?

“I can’t be selfish,” Marion said again firmly, if not fiercely. “This wedding needs to happen.”

“If he’s done this once, he’ll do it again. It’ll only escalate.” Seth backed away, resisting the urge to touch her. “Let me take you out of here. If you don’t trust me either, if you want me to go away too—okay, I’ll drop you off and leave. I’d rather you feel safe than have you martyr yourself to become queen.”

She pulled the robe around herself, grabbed a tissue, and started wiping off her ruined makeup. There was another bruise on her cheekbone that had been covered with foundation. “I do want your help. Promise you’ll help me.”

“Anything,” Seth said.

“Go in front of the council and tell them you’re God. Endorse my wedding. Ensure I get the votes I need. That’s the best way to protect my interests right now.”

“Your interests?” Seth asked. “What about
you
?”

The door to the hallway started to open. Voices echoed into the bedroom. It was Marion’s people, presumably on the way to finish dressing her for the wedding.

“Serve me, Seth,” Marion said. “You said you’d do anything, and this is what I want.”

He wasn’t going to defy her. He’d do what she asked, because he was better than Konig. He owed her that much.

But it still hurt to phase out of the room before Marion’s entourage could see him.

T
he final preparations
took little time. Marion was healed by a sidhe with a few twists of magic. Then she stepped into her wedding dress and the bodice was cinched tightly. Metal jingled softly as the toggles for her dress were pressed into place. Cold diamonds kissed her chest. The roots of her hair were yanked.

Her schedule was running through her mind as though shouted by someone at her back, trying to drown out every other thought, and every warm-eyed, scar-lipped face gazing at her.

She had to do a lot of photos before the ceremony. Hours of them.

And then…the vote.

Jibril would deliver the vote as proxy, but Marion would accomplish nothing else while that was happening. She’d be getting photographed, surrounded by attendants and the Raven Knights, when she found out if Konig would remain prince.

They would win. Seth was going to stand up for her, so they had no alternative but to win.

She’d be married by the time night fell.

Marion snapped out of the depths of thought when her attendants began murmuring. Several stepped away to bow.

The Onyx Queen entered.

She was dressed in darker colors than usual to provide contrast to the bride in white: rich ambers touched with ruby. Strings of pearls had been replaced by roses in her hair. A gold crescent dangled between her eyebrows.

Violet carried a large box in her arms like a baby as she approached, smiling for Marion. The expression didn’t touch her empty eyes.

“Your Highness.” Marion curtsied.

“Queens don’t bow to one another.” Violet reached up to touch her curls. The smile softened around the edges, becoming more genuine. “You look lovely.”

Your son hit me
.

“Thank you,” she said.

“I’ve brought a final accent piece for your wedding dress,” Violet said. “I think you’ll like this one.” She lifted the lid of the box to reveal Marion’s bow nestled alongside her quiver. They glimmered with new enchantments. “I cast spells of unbreaking on these myself.”

The magic was far more elaborate than anything Marion could dream of casting. People would have paid their life’s savings for such enchantments and still been unable to afford them.

“It’s beautiful,” Marion said.

“And intimidating. I want everyone to know that you can defend yourself. May I?”

Marion nodded. Violet slung the bow over her back and used the belt to hang the quiver. Everything was white and bejeweled. They matched the wedding dress surprisingly well.

“I’m a mage,” Marion said. “I don’t need physical weapons, in theory. I like it, though.” She was weirdly touched by the gesture. It was the one element in her entire wedding that seemed tailored to Marion rather than the sidhe in general.

Violet clasped her hands. “Remember this: Blessing as it may be, marriage is a battlefield. You’ll have to fight to become better than your nature. Konig will have to do the same. If you win, you’ll be rewarded in partnership for the rest of your life.”

Marion’s smile slipped. “Thank you.”

“I’ll see you at the wedding.” Violet patted her cheek and left.

Her cheek was cold where the queen had touched her. Marion brushed her fingers over the spot.

Was Konig worth fighting for?

Heather stepped up onto the platform with Marion. “Warn me if you think you’re going to faint,” she said kindly. “I’ll catch you so you don’t fall on your own arrows.”

“I’m not going to faint.”

“Good, because it’s time to start walking.” Heather offered a hand to help Marion down to the floor.

Marion was dressed. Mentally, she hadn’t been present for the process, but she hadn’t needed to be.

She took a moment to survey her regal reflection. Queenly, indeed. A few touches of color had been added so she wouldn’t be so pale against the vivid Autumn Court—some emeralds, some sapphires—but she still looked like icy perfection.

The spray of glittery jewels upon her hair almost made it seem like she’d died among the Winter Court’s snow and was freezing over.

“If you’re looking for the diadem, you won’t be wearing it in the first pictures.” Nori had been managing all of the preparations and barely looked up from her clipboard. “You’ll get it right before the ceremony to surprise everyone.”

Marion hadn’t been worried. She didn’t care.

At least it didn’t feel like she was going to cry anymore.

She took Heather’s hand and stepped down. Even the archer was dressed for the ceremony, though her idea of formal involved the Hound-hide breeches and a prettier bow than usual. Hers was still more utilitarian than Marion’s. There was no attempt to mask Heather’s function as killer-on-hand for the bride.

Marion felt like she was drifting in slow motion on her way to take photographs. The wedding photographer was already present and must have been there the entire time she was dressing. The camera, heavily warded against the energy of the Middle Worlds, flashed as it snapped shots of her journey.

What kind of images would it capture? A blushing bride waiting to meet her groom?

It couldn’t capture any bruises. They were already gone.

It couldn’t capture the tumult within her mind.

In her mind
.

Seth had pressed his forehead to hers, urging her to read his mind. To see the truth.

What truth? That he wouldn’t hurt her?

That their feelings went far beyond what a god and the Voice should share?

Marion was taken to the atrium. She was posed. She held the positions, and they took more photos.

Seth would be going to the council now to give his speech.

He was going to endorse Konig.

He’d offered to take her away, anywhere she wanted—somewhere that she could be safe from Konig.

But Marion shouldn’t have needed to be safe. She’d said it herself: Konig loved her, even if he had lied about Charity’s death. What else could he have been lying about? There was no way to know. She couldn’t read the mind of a sidhe prince without his permission.

She recalled Seth pressing his forehead to hers again—and then when Ymir, the little frost giant, had pointed to his forehead in the Niflheimr dressing room.

Ymir had witnessed Leliel’s attack. He’d been telling Marion to read his mind.

“Nori,” Marion said abruptly.

The photographer gave a cry of protest. “You ruined the shot!”

“Wait for a few minutes.” Marion waved him off and searched her party for Nori. The other half-angel was standing in back, as if avoiding pictures. “Nori! Can I talk to you?”

Uneasily, Nori edged over. “We don’t have a lot of time.”

“Forget about time.” Marion’s mind had kicked into high gear. “I need you to find Ymir for me. He was there when Leliel attacked the Winter Court.”

“So was I. What about it?”

“Did you see what happened to Charity?”

“Charity Ballard? The revenant nurse?” Nori’s lips had gone colorless. “We told you, she died.”

“But did you
see
her die? Because Seth says she’s not dead. He can feel her life out there.” Marion led Nori further away, behind the veil of vines hanging from the corner. It was bright, even there. The Autumn Court was a shining jewel at midday. “I want to talk to another witness of Leliel’s attack.”

“Ymir hasn’t been talking,” Nori said. “I think the trauma, you know…it muted him.”

“I don’t need him to talk with words.”

Nori set her clipboard on the windowsill slowly. “It’ll take a few minutes for me to dig him out of Niflheimr and bring him over—he’s been hiding a lot lately, and—”

“Just find him. I need to see him before I can walk down the aisle.” Before she swore her undying, eternal love to Konig.

“This isn’t the time, Marion,” Nori said.

“It’s the only time. Can you help me?”

Nori took a long time to nod, but she did. “I’ll be as fast as I can.”

Marion could have cried from gratitude, but that would have gotten her in trouble with the makeup artists. She settled for giving Nori a quick hug.

And then her cousin left to find Ymir.

Marion didn’t immediately emerge from the vines. She leaned against the wall, shut her eyes, took a few deep breaths. She had been sleepwalking through everything since Seth had left her, and now it was time to stop and focus.

“How are you holding up?” Heather asked, joining her.

Marion was too emotionally blasted to be anything but honest. “I’ve been better.”

“You’re right to be worried about Arawn,” Heather said. “You can trust that I won’t let anything happen. Look there, and there.” She pointed. Trees curved away from the windows outside. “Magically regrown to make sure the sun can reach all corners of Myrkheimr. And then look over there.” She pointed again.

Marion’s eyes saw nothing when she focused on the wall that Heather indicated. Her senses felt something else. “New wards.”

“Set to trigger physical attacks when tripped. We’ve got lights everywhere. Electricity too. We’ll be able to blast the shit out of any demon that tries to ruin your wedding, princess.”

“That makes me feel better,” Marion lied, offering a tremulous smile to Heather.

“It should,” Heather said. “Trust me when I say that nothing will stop this wedding from happening. Nothing.”

* * *

E
lsewhere in Myrkheimr
, the members of the council gathered for the vote.

The open-walled suite was at the base of a waterfall, which cast everything in a damp amber haze. A glittering river wrapped around the entire room like a moat, and Seth’s skin buzzed when he stepped over a bridge to enter. It let him pass, but not before sweeping every atom of his body.

The glamour charm blinked at the ward’s sweep, bright enough that all the guards noticed.

Every archer turned his way. A dozen of them. Their nocked arrows were anointed with something that gleamed toxic green.

He heard one mutter to another, “It’s here.”

The archers on the other side of the bridge stopped him.

“Arms up, legs spread,” said a man.

Seth did as ordered. They patted him down, found both guns, and checked the magazines. He hadn’t brought iron bullets. The sidhe gave both weapons back.

“You’re good to go,” said the other archer.

Once he had the attention of the security details, the council started looking his way, too. They were situated on low-slung wooden chairs and stone benches. Many of them already held glasses of wine, ready for unseelie festivities to come. Or perhaps drinking while wine was still offered, because it certainly would stop flowing if Konig’s title got stripped.

Everyone in the room looked at Seth, one by one, and their expressions changed.

Word had gotten out about Dana’s accusation. They all knew what he was purported to be.

God, even Rylie looked at him differently. But that probably had less to do with his status and more to do with what he’d let slip about Marion.

Konig wasn’t among the council yet. In fact, Seth recognized nobody except Rylie—and Lucifer, whose crimson eyes lit up at the sight of Seth. He was shrouded in a hooded sweater that was wholly inappropriate for a wedding, particularly one in a location as lush as the Autumn Court.

Lucifer slithered through the crowd toward Seth. “Merry, meet Mr. Wilder.”

“Not now,” Seth said through his teeth.

“If not now, then when?” Lucifer fell into step alongside him. “When you came asking for my help, you neglected to mention that you’re a god.”

“Leave me alone. Last warning.”

“I wouldn’t talk to me like that if I were you,” Lucifer said. “I still have something you want, and now I realize its value is higher than I’d ever dreamed.”

Of all the irritations that Seth was prepared to face at that moment, Lucifer’s was not among them. Endless life seemed trivial in the face of what he was supposed to do.

“I got you what you want,” Seth said. “You owe me blood now.”

“Now? Right now? How do you think you’ll prove what they’re claiming you are if I change you?” Lucifer clearly meant that to be a hypothetical, because he grinned when he said it. “On a more interesting note, the data’s decrypting. I see that you didn’t delete information on that ethereal dimension.”

“I didn’t have time. Are you going to make me regret that?”

“You can delete all you want when I drain your blood,” Lucifer said.

There was something in his tone that screamed of lies. But this wasn’t Seth’s first deal with the devil. He’d get what he wanted from Lucifer.

He just wasn’t sure that he still wanted to be changed.

One woman broke away from the rest to stride toward Seth with fearless confidence. She thrust her hand toward him. “Deirdre Tombs. American Gaean Commission.”

Seth already knew. He’d seen her shooting Rylie in the head. “Seth Wilder. God.”

Lucifer laughed as he walked away.

“That’s what I’ve heard.” Deirdre didn’t drop his hand. She squeezed as hard as he did. “I didn’t see you.”

“I don’t follow.”

“I’m a phoenix. I’ve died a few times. I’ve seen the gods on the other side of life, and you weren’t with them.” Her fingers tightened until her nails dug into the back of his hand.