Cruel Enchantment (31 page)

So be it.

HE
was falling in love with her.

Aeric stared across the table at Emmaline, going icy still for a moment at the realization. Out of all the women in the world to fall in love with, did it have to be this one?

Laughing at something Melia said, Emmaline took a bite of her apple cake. They were having dinner with some of the Unseelie fae in the Black Tower who didn’t want to kill her. When she laughed, which, granted, wasn’t often, she did it with her whole body. With tiny lines creasing the corners of her eyes and unafraid of being heard. He couldn’t even tell that just days ago she’d been recovering from a trauma that would have broken most other people.

Yes, it had to be this one.

Aeric had been with many women over his lifetime, though no one could rightly call him a womanizer. When he entered into a relationship with a woman it was because he was interested in all aspects of her, not just because he wanted her for sex. He could count all the one-night stands he’d ever had on one hand. For such a long-lived male fae, it was an abnormally low number. Gabriel would need all the fingers and toes of everyone in the Black Tower to count his.

Emmaline was by far the most interesting woman he’d ever known. There were still facets of her that seemed mysterious and completely unknowable. He wanted to know them all and, gods, he wanted to make her laugh more often.

He wanted to take the shadows out of her eyes that entered whenever the Summer Queen was mentioned. He wanted to erase the hurt of her childhood, give her her parents back, slay all her dragons. Right now he wanted to get her out of here and spend some time with her alone, listen to the sound of her voice, and maybe eventually feel the slide of his skin against hers.

Yeah, he never did anything halfway. He never felt anything in a lukewarm way, either. When he hated,
he hated
. When he wanted revenge,
he wanted revenge
.

And when he loved,
he loved
. He did it with everything he was, throwing himself into it completely.

It was nice to see her having fun tonight. His friends were being good to her. All in all, he guessed most of the Unseelie who didn’t have a blood score to settle with her would be accepting of her past. After all, the majority of the Unseelie in the Black Tower were able to kill or maim with their magick. They were well acquainted with death and the various ways to cause it. Ultimately, Emmaline probably had more in common with the Unseelie than she did with the people of her birth-right.

She and Aelfdane cleared the table and Melia brought out coffee. They went to sit in the living room of Aelfdane and Melia’s comfortable apartment to drink it and talk. Bran’s crow settled onto his shoulder and seemed to fall asleep. It was that kind of a get-together—very relaxed.

“This is such a nice, normal evening.” Emmaline sighed and sank into an armchair. “I can’t remember the last time I had one.”

“We’re happy to have you here,” answered Gabriel.

“It’s extra nice none of you want to kill me,” she replied, taking a sip of her drink.

“Nope, we don’t want to kill you. Just give you dessert and coffee,” said Melia.

“Yummy coffee, too.”

Bran stroked the feathers of the crow and glanced at Emmaline. “So, tell us about what it’s like to live among humans.” He’d been remarkably understanding about Aeric stealing his bike off the street in Goblin Town.

“Humans?” She sipped her coffee, weighing her answer. “They’re complicated. Not much different from the fae.”

“Less dangerous,” chimed in Aelfdane.

“They’re plenty dangerous. You don’t need magick to be a menace. After all, look what they did to us.”

“The Phaendir did this to us.”

“They instigated it, they directed it, and they control it. But they never would have been able to pull it off without the help and cooperation of the humans.”

“It’s a perspective shared by many of the fae in Piefferburg, especially in the outlying areas, in Sharp Teeth, particularly. If the warding ever breaks, there are some humans who should watch out,” said Bran.

“Yeah. Aeric and I have had this conversation before. That can’t happen. If the fae target the humans with blood vengeance, the fae will find themselves squashed flatter than they are now.”

“No. The fae have magick to call,” Aelfdane replied. “Humans have nothing.”

“One fae has magick to call, but as a group the fae are disorganized and the humans outnumber us—what? five thousand to one, maybe? Not very good odds.”

“The fae are tribal, you’re right about that. It’s always been that way. Ever since the time when the Phaendir and the fae were allies, back as far as we keep records.” Gabriel paused and then finished, “At least the records that survived the Great Sweep.”

Emmaline met Aeric’s eyes across the room, sharing a secret between them for a moment. Then she told them about Calum and the fae archives that he protected and studied.

They spoke about history, the world outside Piefferburg, and fae politics up until it was almost time for Aeric, Aelfdane, Melia, and Bran to join the Wild Hunt. Then they said their good-byes and went for a walk in Piefferburg Square before he had to meet the rest of the Furious Host.

The evening was warm and the sky clear, sprinkled with stars. The Black Tower reached straight up into that diamond scatter. They walked close to each other, in a companionable silence, until they reached the statue of Jules Piefferburg in the center. It was dressed in a lady’s gown and a fancy hat with a plume. To top it off, someone had stuck a curly blond wig on the statue’s head.

Emmaline laughed and shook her head.

Aeric looked up at it, admiring the vandal’s handiwork. No one liked to touch the statue of the human founder and architect of Piefferburg because it was made of one hundred percent charmed iron. “We have to get our kicks somehow.”

“Did you make this statue?”

He sobered, remembering. “Yes. They held my da and threatened to kill him if I didn’t.”

“The Phaendir?”

Aeric nodded. “They took him into custody. He was very ill with Watt’s then, very weak. I made the stupid statue.”

“Bastards.”

He said nothing, staring up at the hunk of metal. At least it provided the imprisoned fae with a laugh once in a while. They couldn’t take it down because it was made of charmed iron, but they pelted the statue with rotten food almost every day.

“I like being here,” murmured Emmaline. “I know that it’s a prison and I know that all the rest of the fae want out, but . . . it’s not as bad as I thought it would be.”

Aeric let out a laugh. “What are you talking about? You’ve been kidnapped twice, three people have tried to kill you, and you’ve been tortured by another. Emmaline, this place hasn’t exactly been heaven for you.”

“I know. I know that, but my people are here, my roots.”

“Judging by the time you’ve had in Piefferburg, I’ll go out on a limb and say your people are assholes. Myself included.”

She flicked a smile at him. “It just feels good to be around the fae, that’s all I’m saying, not necessarily the ones who want to kidnap, kill, or torture me. The rest of them. That dinner we had tonight was the best time I’ve had in so long I can’t even remember. It’s good to be with people who know what I am, where I come from, who share a common bond. I haven’t had that for so long.”

“Yes. I see what you’re saying.” He turned away from the statue, looking toward the Rose Tower. It made him think of the Summer Queen. He closed his eyes against a rush of anger, then pulled Emmaline against him. “You need to meet my father,” he murmured into her hair and then kissed the crown of her head.

Her arms came around him. “I do?”

“Yes. He’s the only family I have left. I want you to meet him.”

She said nothing.

He pushed her away far enough so he could see her face. “Do you want to meet him?”

“Yes! Yes, I do. I’m just surprised you asked.” She smiled. “Hey, tonight was sort of like a date, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah, I guess it was.” He leaned forward and kissed her softly and slowly. “Wanna come up to my place for a quick drink before I have to meet the hunt?”

She made a low purrlike sound in her throat that heated his blood. “I want more than just a drink from you.”

 

 

CÁEL
O’Malley seemed a lot like an elderly human man. His hair had gone gray and his back was stooped. His fingers were gnarled and his knuckles knobby. One could tell by just a glance that Cáel had once been as tall and as strong as his son, maybe even more so, but his brush with death had stripped all that away. By all accounts, Cáel O’Malley had come as close as one could to meeting the Wild Hunt without actually doing it.

But he was still a strong man. The expression he wore on his face and the light in his eyes told you that right away. Emmaline saw Aeric had inherited much from his father.

He lived in an apartment in the upper tier of the Black Tower. That was where she and Aeric met him the next day after Aeric had depleted his ability to work on the key.

“Ah, I remember you!” Cáel reached out his knotted hand to her and she took it. “Met you on the road to the village one day, I did. A long time ago. Back when you were doing things you shouldn’t for the Summer Queen.”

“You have a good memory.”

He squinted at her and patted the seat beside him on the couch. “Do you remember meeting me?”

“I remember.” She glanced at Aeric. “You were his father, so I remember it well. It made an impression at the time.”

Cáel jerked his head at his son, who had taken a nearby chair. “This one made you out to be an enemy, but here you are sitting beside me now. What changed?”

“Lots of stuff, da. I finally put the past in context.”

Cáel cracked a smile filled with bad teeth, but it was beautiful nonetheless. “I told you, son, everything is perspective. I’m glad you finally got some.” He patted Emmaline’s hand and she glowed with happiness. Against all odds, Cáel liked her.

“Yeah, da,” Aeric said, meeting Emmaline’s gaze. “Me, too.”

“He doesn’t bring many women to meet me,” said Cáel with a cackle. “Must mean you’re special.”

Aeric covered her hand with his. “She is.” He paused. “But don’t get your hopes up too much, da. She’s not planning to stay in Piefferburg.”

The flare of happiness that had sparked in Emmaline’s chest died with a little gasp.
That’s right, one should never get one’s hopes up.

 

 

STANDING
in Aeric’s living room, she reached out and touched the polished wood of her bow.

“Emmaline?”

She jumped, startled, pulling her hand back from the crossbow like it was a blazing fire.

Aeric’s warm, broad hands closed around her shoulders. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

He remained that way, staring down at her old weapon with her for several moments. “Let’s go out and shoot it.”

“What?” She gave a surprised laugh.

“Yeah. I’ve done all I can do on the key today. My magick is drained to the dregs on that stupid thing. Let’s take it out to the Boundary Lands and shoot it.”

She studied the weapon with a mixture of longing and apprehension. “Why?”

“Because you didn’t want me to get rid of it.”

She gave him a weird look over her shoulder. “What does that have to do with going out to shoot it?”

He turned her to face him and tipped her chin up to force her gaze to meet his. “It means, Emmaline, that you might be a little afraid of this weapon, but you want, somewhere deep inside you, to accept it back into your life.”

She shook her head. “No—”

“Not the killing, obviously. I mean the object itself. It represents a part of your personal history, a tumultuous part, but maybe accepting this weapon into your present means that you can forgive yourself for the past. It’s a symbol.”

“I don’t deserve forgiveness.” She turned to look at the crossbow. Carefully, she picked it up and held it. This time she didn’t want to put it down again, so maybe, even though she didn’t deserve forgiveness, some part of her wanted it.

“You do.” He paused. “Everyone does.”

She stared down at the weapon in her hands and hesitated before answering, “All right. Let’s go.”

A few minutes later she had the bow strapped to her back and they were on the back of Aeric’s cycle, headed out of Piefferburg City and toward the woods.

He parked the bike at the start of one of the many paths leading into the Boundary Lands and hid it with foliage. Then they walked a distance in and found a tree—a target for her to shoot at.

Aeric settled back against another tree and folded his arms over his chest, watching her. His body was relaxed, but his eyes were keen and sparked with interest.

“This,” she said, holding the bow out. “
This
is the weapon that killed Aileen.”