The Darkling Lord: Court of the Banished book 1 (Annwyn Series 4) (2 page)

D
arah fingered
the edge of her shirt. While Felan had given her a role of the greenish mortal paper money to outfit herself more appropriately, she had simply taken what she’d wanted. Paying was what mortals did and she wasn’t mortal. And she hated dressing like one. However most exiled fairies tried to pass for mortal, and that meant wearing mortal clothes not just appearing to wear mortal clothes.

The fabric was coarse, the styles lacking any hint of creativity—shops had multiple items that were all identical. As if the wearers were interchangeable.

She wasn’t a Brownie—a fairy that kept house for a mortal—by any stretch, but she knew enough to make a few changes and make the clothes more her style. She’d embellished the jeans, as she’d seen the new Queen, Jacquie, do. Darah wasn’t sure if Felan’s choice of wife was a breath of fresh air or too much change too fast.

Either way Jacquie had provided a few tips on surviving the mortal world.

Darah checked her reflection in the cracked mirror again. She’d found an empty house and made it hers, but hopefully she wouldn’t be stuck there long. She didn’t let the pang of homesickness take hold. She had to focus on the job.

Was the outfit too much or not enough?

Too much would put the darkling on edge. Not enough would make her appear weak.

Her husband, Shea, had thought her weak. She smiled. Did he realize with his last breath that she had betrayed him and the old queen? She hoped so. He’d turned out to be a lying oath breaker.

There was nothing worse than a man who didn’t keep his word on either side of the veil. Given that the darkling was the child of a banished fairy, she expected to find plenty of evidence against him tonight. Game over.

The jeans and shirt would do. She’d fit in with the other mortals attending the party at the casino.

She ran her fingers through her hair, made sure that her expression wasn’t too haughty and then left the house. After a block she let the mortals see her, even though she was tempted to remain glamoured and out of sight. The confrontation with the men had left her on edge. It was unnerving that mortals could have that effect on her. She really didn’t know what her grandfather had seen in the mortal world, but then things had changed over the last three thousand years—things had changed in the five hundred she’d been alive.

None of it for the better.

The casino rose up like a blob of metal. Could the darkling have picked an uglier place to make his base?

Probably not.

She missed the castles of Europe. And the gowns. That had been more her scene, more like Annwyn. A tan dog walked down the center of the road, but paid her no heed. This casino open day was her best chance to get in and have a look around without being too obvious, although she had no doubts that every Grey in the building would know she was fairy.

She walked along the cracked sidewalk, dodging the plants that were invading and refuse that had been dumped. Hopefully, to the Greys she’d looked like a fairy trying to be human. She was sure she didn’t have to fake looking lost. The mortal world was not her idea of fun, it never had been. It was unwelcoming, dirty and crass at its best.

Before going in she smoothed her hair and fixed a smile—but not too broad. She didn’t want it to look as though she thought she owned the place, the way most Court fairies would. She still wanted to look uncertain. The apprehension in her stomach would serve her well. Getting used to showing what she was feeling, however, went against everything she’d ever done. Part of her wanted to pull up the mask of knowing superiority that she’d worn in Annwyn for centuries. But that wouldn’t help her here. This was a game with different rules than what she was used to playing.

Why had she agreed to this job?

She had never set out to be Felan’s spy. Informing him of his mother’s schemes had simply been a way to ensure her husband’s fall.
Now this.
Surely the King of Annwyn wasn’t threatened by a darkling? But too many Greys in one area always made Annwyn pay attention. Greys were trouble. That was why they’d been banished in the first place.

She ran her hands over her shirt and approached the door. Two men were guarding it. She was ready to glamour them to be let in if necessary, but they handed her some brightly colored tokens called chips and let her in. No one had asked her name or what she wanted. It was almost too easy.

Suspicion took the place of apprehension. Nothing was ever that easy. She cast her gaze around to get a quick take on the situation before walking in. The main floor was full of people. There was music going, the gambling tables were open and there wasn’t a fairy, banished or otherwise, in sight.

Where were they? Did the darkling have them locked up?

Darah walked through listening to the conversations. There was everything from suspicion to outright joy that Mr. Saint had opened up his casino for free.

Wasn’t Mr. Saint delightful?

But she didn’t buy the fairy philanthropist angle at all—even if he did call himself saint. No one did something nice just because they could. What was the catch? What game was he playing that these fools didn’t see?
Humanity.
They didn’t live long enough to learn from their mistakes, so every generation kept on repeating them, swearing they’d be different.

Gradually she became aware of a man in a suit watching her. No, make that two, and they weren’t human, of that she was sure. Was one of those men Mr. Saint the darkling? Any self-respecting fairy would be at the tables tricking mortals or stealing their coins at the very least.

Yet no one was.

Her hands were practically itching to do something. After a year and a day as a shadow, she was probably out of practice. She walked toward a table, and from the corner of her eyes saw one of the men move toward her. Her heart kicked in warning, but this is what she was here for.

“If you want to play at the tables, Lady, you will need to get some chips.” He inclined his head a fraction, as if acknowledging that she was a Court fairy.
Not good.

“I have some chips.” Darah went to pull some out of her pocket, but the man hooked his arm through hers and drew her away. He wasn’t a darkling. She didn’t know what he was, only that he smelled like the ocean and his eyes were dark brown the way no fairy’s ever would be. And yet he was definitely not human. “And you are?”

Touching me when you have no right.
She tried to pull her arm free, and when that failed, attempted a gentle glamour to get him to release her. It rolled off him like water. By the river what was he?

“Not letting go if you keep doing that. My master doesn’t want trouble from your kind.”

“My kind?” They had a casino full of Greys and humans and they thought she was going to be trouble? He was going to toss her out? She hadn’t even had a proper look around yet, much less established who the darkling was. At the moment all she had was half a name.

“Court.” He said the word with a sneer.

She was going to argue, then decided keeping her mouth closed might serve her better. When it became clear he wasn’t going to throw her out, she slowed her steps. “Where are you taking me?”

“To see my master.” He led her deeper into the casino.

“Master?” Did the darkling have servants the way a Lord did? She wasn’t sure if she should be impressed or concerned that he was giving himself such status.

The man refused to be drawn into any further conversation until they reached the stairs where the other man who’d been watching her now stood. He wasn’t fairy, but he had that look about him up close. The edge in his pale blue eyes and the tilt of his head said he expected to be obeyed. He also had a soul…and yet something wasn’t right about him. Nothing she could pinpoint immediately. If she hadn’t known she was looking for a darkling, she might’ve passed him off as an odd changeling.

“Thank you, Kaid.”

The man who had escorted her here gave a little nod and moved away, back to monitoring the floor. Which left her with the man she was supposed to be spying on.

“Henry Saint.” He offered his hand. What was she supposed to do with it? Kiss it? Wasn’t that his role? He looked at her, obviously expecting to learn her name. He could have part of it. But not all of it. In Annwyn names had power and no darkling was going to get anything from her for free.

“Darah.” She extended her hand and he clasped it and shook it. His skin was warmer than she’d expected for a darkling, cool but not icy. His dark brown hair caught the light and shone with gold. He didn’t look like a creature that should be hiding in the shadows.

“Darah who? I know you Court fairies love your names and lineage.” He hadn’t released her hand yet. His grip was firm and yet not threatening, not yet anyway. He wasn’t at all like a Grey. She’d expected a darkling to be more withered, older, frailer. Less fairy looking and less vital.

She hesitated, but what would he do with her name here? Not a lot. If she refused, he would be wary. She swallowed down a little of her courtly pride and remembered she was playing the role of an exile. “Darah merch Hathor. Recently removed from Court.”

He looked at her as if he was searching for the lie. Fairies didn’t lie—and those that did soon regretted it. They bent the truth, left out pieces, but never told an outright lie—where was the skill in that? She had been recently removed from Court, to come here and spy on him.

“Daughter of a goddess? Oh, that’s rich, even for you lot.” He laughed, but it didn’t seem joyful. It was more like the fake laughs she was used to hearing at Court and around Eyra, the old Queen. But where once her blood had boiled at the mention of the old queen’s name, now there was little more than an unpleasant taste at the back of her throat. Eyra and Shea deserved each other.

“My mother was named after the goddess as my grandfather loved all things Egyptian.” From what her mother had said, he’d spent a lot of time there playing god or traveler, depending on where the wind took him. He had been a true fairy drifter, making a life in the mortal world without thinking too far ahead. Her mother had tried to re-establish the family at Court and Darah had continued her mother’s work.

“That is where you get your looks from. Quite the Cleopatra.”

Darah forced a smile. She didn’t like being compared to humans even if they had been queens. “Cleo had nothing on fairies.”

“That was a compliment.” He released her hand, his gaze breaking away from hers as he scanned the floor. “So why are you here, Lady Darah, recently removed from Court?”

“I heard about the party and wanted to see for myself.” Also true, though not the whole truth. She had heard whispers from other fairies about the darkling of Detroit as she’d travelled. He may not know it, but word was spreading.

“And what do you think?” This time he offered a hint of a real smile. The corner of his mouth turned up as though he were quite proud of his achievement.

Darah allowed herself a moment to peruse the casino floor and watch the gambling and feasting mortals before turning back to him. “I wonder what you hope to gain.”

His lips curved in a wicked smile that on a fairy would have made lust tumble through her body. However he wasn’t fairy and she wasn’t here to play.

“Information.”

S
o far his
idea was working perfectly. The acquiring of the contents of the armored truck had gone beautifully. The cops were blaming the gangs, the gangs were accusing the cops of being corrupt, and he was sitting back and watching them attack each other. Meanwhile, none of the mayor’s ill-gotten gains had been banked. Henry’s Greys had spent days playing with the coins and notes, stacking them up and knocking them down. Reliving the prank again and again. He tried to imagine that behavior happening at Court and failed.

From all accounts, life in Annwyn was very rigid and often cruel. When he looked at Darah, he saw the cool reserve that Court fairies were best known for. No emotion crossed their faces unless they wanted you to see something.

Her pale turquoise eyes watched him for a moment before she looked away, as if mentally dismissing him. Her mouth was set in what must pass for a smile across the veil. She was as brittle and beautiful as she was intriguing.

She was also hiding something, but right now he didn’t care.

He had spies all over the room listening to the whispers. He wanted to know what the people wanted. Unlike most fairies, he could appreciate humans in all their fragile mortal glory. He got a taste of it once a year and that was enough for him. Imagine living with that all the time, knowing that there was no way to eke out another year of life from a dying body.

For the moment it was easy to push the guilt aside. He’d be busy this year justifying his existence and claiming Detroit. Maybe next year he wouldn’t get drunk. He almost laughed out loud at the idea. He always drank on his birthday, if not to forget then to at least numb the memory and file away the sharp edges.

“Information about what?” Darah raised one dark eyebrow. Her eyes glittered like the Mediterranean Sea in sunlight. With her coppery skin, she was breathtaking…but weren’t all fairies? The scale of their beauty should be enough to induce wariness or fear…as well as lust.

He was not immune to all of her charms, just the glamours that would muddle a mortal’s mind.

“People.” And he doubted that she’d understand. Most fairies cared little about humans unless they were forced to live among them. Was this an educational visit for her?

“To steal their souls?” Her voice was perfectly level, as if death meant nothing to her.

He flinched and glanced at her. “I take only one per year, so that I may live.”

She gave a shrug as if she didn’t really care, and her long black hair slid over her golden brown shoulder. She looked like an Egyptian goddess in mortal clothes. And she would no doubt be as much trouble.

Fairies always were. Didn’t matter if they were banished, exiled or Court. It was just the amount of trouble that varied. While he hadn’t made deals with Greys, and he didn’t trick people out of their souls, he didn’t know how Annwyn would view the one he did take every year. Justified or not? He was sure that there were too many Greys gathered in one area, which as far as he was concerned was just another reason to make sure they didn’t get into any trouble and draw attention.

A whistle cut through the noise as ten cops walked in. He’d actually expected them to show earlier. A few gang kids had started fighting, but Kaid had kicked them out, and since then there had been no trouble. The casino was Switzerland, with less snow and chocolate.

The two men he had handing out chips at the door offered a pile to the cops. Everyone got the same when they walked in. Gambling was no fun without risk. They got the rush and the joy without taking a hit they couldn’t afford. He’d hired caterers and put on a buffet. There was even some alcohol, but not a lot. Just enough to lubricate the talk. The cops brushed aside the chips, although some looked as though they wanted to take them.

One cop stepped forward. “This is an illegally operating casino.”

“I have to deal with this, don’t vanish, okay?” He smiled at her. Maybe having an exiled fairy on his side would be useful. She could be seen in public while the Greys couldn’t—most were too far gone to pass for human.

He smoothed his shirt and strolled over with his most innocent smile on his lips. “This is a private party.”

“There’s gambling and drinking in an unlicensed venue.”

“This is my house. Admittedly it was once used as a casino, but alas I have no liquor license or gambling license, so I decided to throw a party instead of letting the tables go to waste.” He placed his hand over his heart.

“You invited the whole of Detroit.”

“Actually I invited the local suburbs, but it appears not everyone could come.” But a couple of thousand had, and they would spread the word. And he would create what they wanted. No deals that turned sour and no tricks that fell in his favor. Fairies could work with humans. Tonight was the first step, gather information. That the Mayor had unwillingly funded the party was a bonus. No party was ever just a party and the reasons were always best hidden. He may not be a fairy, but he appreciated the games.

It was easy to be positive when his birthday was a drunken memory from last week. This year he was determined to pay them one hundred times over for the soul he’d take. He’d still be in the mortals’ debt, and it wouldn’t touch the old guilt that came from accidentally killing those who had tried to raise him, but it was a start. Besides, he’d had to survive the consequences of his actions. By seven he’d been on the streets, alone. Victorian England wasn’t a kind place for children.

“You’re serving alcohol.”

“Yes I am, can’t have a party without it. But it’s all free. I believe there is some dinner left, so be my guests and help yourselves.” He increased his smile and wished he could cast a glamour to get rid of them. The party was stopping as people looked and got scared.

“Are you trying to bribe us?” The cop scowled at him.

Ah, is that what they wanted? Bribes? They wouldn’t give him a license but they’d take his cash? “Oh, no. That’s an offense, isn’t it? I was merely offering you the chance to join the party.”

“You will be fined.”

“For what? Has there been a noise complaint?” Henry crossed his arms.

“You need to run events past the mayor and pay the approval fee.”

“Private party.” Henry corrected. “I’m sure I’m allowed to have them.” He felt more than heard Darah move alongside him. She slid her arm into his and he immediately knew she was up to something.

“Is there a problem?” Her voice was like liquid gold. Warm, rich and with a slight sparkle.

Henry felt the urge to shake his head and say no, and she wasn’t even asking him. He recognized the feel of magic on his skin. He knew then what she was doing. Darah was casting a glamour and clouding the cops’ thoughts. It was no wonder fairies looked down on humans when they could manipulate them so easily.

The cop who’d done all the talking looked confused for a moment. Then he took a step back. “It’s just a private party.”

Darah nodded. “Yes it is.”

After a couple more heartbeats, the cops edged away, looking a little dazed, and left. A few Greys scampered after them, pausing at the door as if checking for permission. Henry gave a slight nod and they vanished in to the night. Those cops wouldn’t be sleeping well tonight.

He didn’t feel sorry for them. They were the Mayor’s personal shit-kickers.

Tonight he had other problems. He turned to look at Darah. She’d helped him even though she didn’t have to. Like any fairy, she would now expect something in return. The question was what?

“Nice work.” He did mean that. Casting glamours was a skill he could use around here. While banished fairies could cast a glamour, using magic brought them closer to death so most didn’t. The silence hung between them as they assessed each other.

Who would flinch first and display their hand? He didn’t let the smile form. Darah could be a dangerous ally or a callous enemy. He already knew which he’d prefer.

“Did you plan on throwing me out, or can I stay?” She raised both eyebrows in challenge and he was almost ready to accept it. Then he blinked and remembered that she was probably the most dangerous fairy on the floor.

He considered her for a long moment, neither of them willing to look away first. He didn’t trust her, which was both a reason to let her stay and a reason to send her on her way.

He wanted to know why she’d come to his city out of all the cities in the world.

Curiosity was a fairy’s drug of choice. Something that could never be quenched no matter how much was discovered. In that respect, he was no different than any fairy. He loved intrigue. And Darah was intriguing.

She was beautiful in a way no mortal or banished fairy could be. She radiated with the magic of Annwyn. Like any Grey, he longed to touch it even if he couldn’t hold it.

She also had no soul, which meant if he kissed her right now she wouldn’t end up dead. Lust gave him a kick in the groin. He couldn’t decide if that was a pro or con to her staying in his casino.

Greys he could deal with. A fairy exiled from Annwyn was a whole other bundle of trouble. He liked to keep a close eye on trouble. “Be my guest.”