The Seahorse Who Loved the Wrong Lynx (17 page)

“No, you don’t. I’ll do it.”

Preston’s overprotectiveness would have irritated Layton had he

not spent the entire morning throwing up. As it was, he acknowledged Preston had a point, but he didn’t want Preston to have contact with magic, either.

“It’s okay, lovely,”
Preston said through their bond.
“I’ll be fine.”

Before Layton could protest, his mate sat at the desk and reached

into the light. Layton might have rushed forward to stop Preston had Morgan not held him back.

But his panic turned out to be unjustified. They waited, watching

Preston in hypnotized awe, but nothing happened. Finally, Alexis

took a few steps forward and peeked closer to the light.

“Oh,” he said.

“What?” Preston inquired. “What is it? Why won’t it open?”

“It has a special lock,” Alexis replied. “I believe that usually, this sort of thing is sealed with…blood.”

Silence fell over the room as Alexis’s words computed. Blood.

Their parents’ blood. There was no other explanation. Which meant

that, most likely, either he or Morgan had to touch it. Seeing that nothing had happened when Preston tried it, it seemed safe enough to attempt even with his pregnancy. Angrily, he stalked to the desk and touched the bright light.

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Instantly, his mind was invaded with a warmth and a scent he’d

come to associate with his dad. Then followed his father’s strength, sometimes comforting, sometimes chastising, but always there.

Layton could see them so clearly.

A picture formed. At first, Layton thought it was only in his mind,

but a gasp from Reed told him the others could see it as well. It was an image of his parents, lying on a bed, seemingly asleep. They

looked so peaceful, embraced, Skylar’s chest rising slowly as he

relaxed against Byron’s chest. Layton wondered what sort of game

this was. Where were his parents? Was this image even real, and if so, who was showing it to them?

As if in answer to his question, the image of his parents blurred,

and in its stead, a blond man appeared. A Sidhe. “Hello, young

Cunninghams. I am King Sterling. You don’t know me, but I am

certain you are aware of your parents’ plans, at least to some extent.”

The Sidhe laughed. “Suffice to say, they found what they are looking for. But you needn’t worry. They are alive and well. At least for

now.”

The Sidhe’s expression sobered. “I am a reasonable man, and I

realize that your fathers are correct insofar as a war would not be

profitable for anyone. However, your attack on Elder Mercier,

however justified, has understandably put me in the position to make a choice. My people are demanding for you to return her and revenge

on her behalf for this humiliation.

“If we are to avoid this, I strongly suggest a meeting. You can

bring your mates, if you so desire, although it would probably be

better if Mr. Whitaker remains home. I must stress that both of you

most come, young Cunninghams. Convey your reply through this

sphere.”

The image vanished, leaving them all standing in the office, lost

and confused. “What do we do now?” Reed asked. “This has to be a

trap.”

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It was very likely that Reed was right, but unfortunately, Layton

and Morgan were once again stuck. His parents were in the Sidhe

king’s clutches, and Layton had no doubt that Sterling would begin a war if they crossed him.

“We have to go,” Morgan said. “There is no other way.”

Layton placed a protective hand over his stomach, feeling a little

sick. The magic of the message might not have hurt his child, but

meeting the Sidhe king certainly would.

“Maybe,” Reed said decisively, “but you’re not going alone.”

Minutes later, Layton found himself surrounded by his friends and

extended family. All of the people he’d grown up with had gathered

around him, each insisting to be brought along. From Angel and

Clark, their parents, Carson and Brody, the werewolf pack Brody had

belonged to and their leader, Soren, to Preston’s parents, they all wanted to lend in a hand in rescuing Layton’s parents. Layton

exchanged a brief look with his brother, feeling warm inside at the obvious affection.

His mate’s voice drifted into his mind. “It won’t be easy, but we

might just get through this yet.”

Layton grinned, his momentary lapse into hopelessness forgotten.

Oh, yes, they would get through this. He would not disappoint his

parents. The image they’d been shown seemed to suggest Skylar and

Byron were prisoners, but Layton suddenly had his doubts. And

whatever plan the Sidhe king had, he would be very disappointed to

see that Layton and Morgan knew how to play the game as well.

* * * *

When Preston and his mate had sent back the message, they’d

agreed on arranging a neutral location for the famous meeting. After throwing around a few suggestions with the Sidhe king, they’d

eventually decided on a forest in Soren’s pack land. It might seem to give shifters an advantage, but the Sidhe had a great affinity with

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nature. Their dislike for shifters largely stemmed from the belief that shifters were a perversion of what nature had intended animals to be.

So even if the territory belonged to Soren and his wolves, the Sidhe would also be right at home.

Preston, Layton, Morgan, Alexis, and Soren headed to the

suggested spot, a clearing at the very edge of pack lands. Their people were spread out around them, watching for Sidhe intruders. In the

end, Alexis insisted to come because his own people deserved a

representative. Rhys still had not recovered from his injuries, a fact which pained and angered the incubus greatly.

As they reached their destination, several Sidhe emerged from the

trees. Preston had expected the Sidhe to bypass the security in the area since they’d left that side least unmanned, concentrating defenses on the circle closest to the Alpha compound and the pack’s homes. If

something happened, Preston and his companions would retreat there,

behind the muscle of Soren’s wolves and the Whitakers’ magical

wards.

To Preston’s shock, the Cunninghams had been brought along for

the meeting. They walked behind the Sidhe king, looking completely

composed. A brief flicker of irritation passed through Byron’s eyes as he saw his two children in the grove before it was quickly masked.

Perhaps the shark had not wanted them there. And of course, beyond

Skylar’s calm façade, Preston saw true concern. A while back, before mating Layton, he’d have missed it, but now, he had a new awareness

of the people Layton practically worshipped, and he saw what the

Cunninghams wanted to hide. He was filled with relief because their

behavior meant they were in there, not under Sidhe control.

King Sterling smiled at Preston and his companions as they met in

the middle. “Well met, young Cunninghams.” He wrinkled his perfect

nose as if he’d smelled something unpleasant. “I truly wish you’d

heeded my warning regarding Mr. Whitaker.”

“Too bad for you,” Morgan replied. “Alexis has just as much right

to be here as any of us.”

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“Indeed,” Sterling acknowledged with a grimace. “But let’s not

begin this meeting with unpleasantness, shall we?”

“Of course.” Layton beamed at the king. “Thank you for setting

up this little reunion, Your Majesty. It’s truly an honor to meet you face-to-face.”

The words rang out fake and sarcastic in Preston’s ears, but if

Sterling realized it, he didn’t let it show. “And it is a pleasure to meet you, Layton. I’ve heard a lot about you and your brothers from your

dear parents.”

Somehow, Preston doubted that was the case since the

Cunninghams were unlikely to go blabbering about their kids to

arrogant strangers who hated shifters as a whole. “We are flattered,”

Morgan said. “Now, what did you wish to discuss?”

“Your parents and I have been debating the possibility of a truce

between our two races. As you can understand, this situation is very volatile, and for that reason we would require a gesture of goodwill from your part.”

Skylar cleared his throat, demanding attention. They all turned to

the seahorse. “We have agreed to release Elder Mercier in King

Sterling’s custody as long as he provides care for those injured in the battle.”

“I suppose that is acceptable,” Layton said, giving no sign of

having already considered this demand. “And I trust my parents are

free to go.”

“Of course.” King Sterling waved a hand, as if allowing

permission. “I’d have never dreamed to keep them in my custody.”

A brief snort sounded from Byron, and a smile flitted on Skylar’s

lips. It seemed that, whatever the Sidhe king said, he would not have been able to keep the two Cunninghams prisoner in the first place.

Byron and Skylar made their way to Layton’s side. Preston could

actually sense the need vibrating through Layton to embrace his

parents, and he gathered Morgan must feel the same thing. However,

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they all restrained themselves, obviously knowing this was not the

time, nor the place.

Other than Skylar and Byron, several Sidhe had accompanied

Sterling to the meeting. Sterling waved a slender young man forward

and said, “This is Winter. He will help you break the spell on your

friends.”

Layton acknowledged the offer with a nod. “I give you my word

he will not be harmed.”

Morgan took Alexis’s hand, and a brief flash flowed away from

Alexis, a magical message. “Our men will be bringing Elder Mercier

and her people here,” Morgan said. “Are you interested in the siren

and the warlock, as well?”

“Please.” The king gave Morgan an arrogant look that belied his

polite words. “I wouldn’t want to have their kind fighting us, or you.”

Since the request had been anticipated, it didn’t take long for the

prisoners to be brought in. The Sidhe were wearing iron-enforced

shackles, which, according to the incubi, helped neutralize their

powers. The siren and the warlock wore gags, preventing them from

singing or casting incantations. And of course, Malcolm and Yuki

were there, looking very pleased as they touched the bare flesh of

their prisoners. Yuki was smiling in that aloof way that always

suggested something bad was going to happen. Simply looking at

Malcolm’s hand on Elder Mercier’s arm made Preston shiver. If

Malcolm only willed it, the Sidhe would be poisoned with the

jellyfish’s paralyzing venom. Sidhe might be able to heal quickly, but few things could counter venom like that.

The Sidhe king didn’t look disturbed in the slightest, having

obviously expected these precautions. Layton nodded at Malcolm,

gesturing for him to bring the group forward.

It was then that Byron spoke for the first time. “We will be

keeping Elder Mercier until we are certain Winter can help cure the

damage she has wrought.”

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This time, the king looked distinctly displeased. “I’m afraid I

can’t allow that.”

“It’s easy enough to solve,” Alexis said pleasantly. He exchanged

a look with Morgan, and then a tall, dark-haired man emerged from

the shadows, carrying Rhys Whitaker. Preston recognized the man as

Alexis and Rhys’s father.

Preston had only briefly met the Whitakers when they’d come to

see Alexis at the academy hospital. After that, he hadn’t seen them

until they’d come here with Rhys. It had been an unexpected

development, but the Whitakers had explained Alexis and Elian’s

presence did Rhys good and a separation between the brothers

worsened Rhys’s condition.

“If you heal my son,” Mr. Whitaker said, “I’m sure Mr.

Cunningham will agree it as a proof of your goodwill.”

Sterling seemed put out at having his hand forced into this. Before

he could speak, the young Sidhe, Winter, intervened. “It’s all right, Uncle,” he said. “I’m happy to help.”

So Winter was King Sterling’s nephew.
Interesting
. Sterling didn’t look happy that Winter had revealed this, but it was too late to take it back, and Winter was already making his way toward Rhys.

Malcolm placed his jacket on the grass, and Mr. Whitaker put his

son down. Winter took his cue and knelt next to the unconscious

incubus. Preston watched spellbound as light flowed from Winter’s

fingertips. It seemed to take forever, but at last, Rhys’s fixed gaze cleared. “W–What? What happened?”

He must have seen the Sidhe above him because he pushed away

violently. “What the fuck—?”

Mr. Whitaker’s hand landed on Rhys’s shoulder. The older

incubus helped Rhys up. They didn’t speak, Rhys still eyeing the

Sidhe with distrust. Wordlessly, he helped Rhys away while Winter

got up, brushing his clothing and seemingly unaffected by the shove.

“There you go,” the Sidhe king said. “You have a gesture of my

good faith.”

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Preston admitted that Sterling had been honest, at least where that

issue was concerned. Byron nodded and gestured for Malcolm to