Wicked Whispers (24 page)

“Really? Their balls?” Tirron sounded strangely fascinated.

“Really.” Sparkle brightened. “Would you like a demonstration?”

Tirron tried for his usual cold and aloof expression, but Murmur figured he was mentally clapping his hands over his endangered body parts.

“That won’t be necessary. I believe you.”

“Good.” She glanced around the room. “Anyone have problems with my decision?”

No one spoke. Even Ganymede had enough sense to shut up.

With a furious hiss, the cat leaped from the coffee table and headed for the door.
“Let’s get out of here, vampire.”
He narrowed his feline eyes at Bain.
“Whatever happens when the Sluagh Sidhe gets here is on your head. I hope you have a big bank account, because I don’t think the insurance covers faery attacks.”
The door swung open ahead of him. He padded through, followed closely by Dacian, and the door slammed closed behind them so hard that Murmur was surprised the walls didn’t shake.

“That went well.” Sparkle’s smile was triumphant. “I love bursting pompous bubbles.” She glanced at Ivy. “Let’s celebrate with a drink.” Her attention shifted to Bain. “Keep me informed.”

Bain nodded. “Will do. And thanks.”

Murmur watched Sparkle and Ivy leave. Ivy didn’t meet his gaze. He didn’t blame her. His music had oozed evil, once again reminding her of exactly what he was. He tried to convince himself that he didn’t care, but it wasn’t working. He cared too much. And what the hell was he going to do about that?

“You scared the woman, demon. Be careful. Things will go smoother if she remains docile and ignorant.” Tirron’s stare said that Murmur was a clumsy idiot.

If Bain didn’t need the faery, Murmur would show Tirron exactly how much power his music had. “The woman has a name. She’s Ivy.”

“She’s a tool to secure the release of Bain’s human toy. Don’t forget that. And don’t forget your part in our plan. Keep her happy and focused on you. Make her want you so much that she’ll follow you anywhere. When it comes time to trade her for Bain’s woman, we don’t want her distrustful or unwilling to follow where you lead her.”

Murmur had taken as much crap as he intended from this dickhead. It was time to clue him in about Asima. He opened his mouth to speak, but Tirron held up his hand.

“I hear something.” The faery stood and stalked to the door.

Bain and Murmur remained seated. Murmur amused himself by imagining how much he’d enjoy watching Tirron dance until his feet were nothing but bloody stubs.

Tirron paused in front of the door, and then suddenly yanked it open.

Ivy crouched on the other side, her hand frozen in the act of reaching for something sparkly on the rug. She looked past Tirron to Murmur.

Horror, fear, and soul-deep betrayal lived in her eyes. And even as he watched, disgust and fury joined the other emotions.

She’d heard.

She knew.

13

Ivy crouched in front of Tirron, the lost stone from her ring forgotten. He looked down at her—cold and not even close to human.

She’d known none of them were human, but for the first time she really understood what that meant. Not only had her rose-colored glasses hit the dirt, but Murmur and the faery staring at her now were grinding them into dust beneath their supernatural heels.

“Well, this is a complication.” Tirron seemed mildly annoyed.

At the sound of his voice, whatever had held her frozen shattered. She came out of her crouch and ran.

Not the stairs.
Too easy for him to catch her.
The elevator doors were open. Was the elevator iron? Tirron wouldn’t go near the iron headboard.

Maybe surprise would freeze him for a moment and give her a head start.
He didn’t look surprised.

Maybe some random person would come out of a room or up the stairs.
The hall was empty.

If she could get inside the elevator, close the doors, and reach the hotel lobby before Tirron caught her, she’d be semi-safe. There’d be too many witnesses.
Human
witnesses. The human part was important. Of course, she didn’t know how powerful he was. Maybe he could make them all forget what they’d seen.

Stop worrying about what-ifs. Think survival.
She’d get to the lobby. Then she’d lie, make someone from the registration desk go with her to Kellen’s room. She’d pay the person to stay with her while they packed and left. No, forget packing.
Just leave.

Even as the disjointed thoughts flashed through her mind, the few rational brain cells still functioning screamed that she’d never get to the elevator in time, never get the doors closed.
Please, please, please.
The ragged plea was in sync with her rasping breaths.

Ivy didn’t dare look behind her. She tried to scream, but all that came out was a hoarse croak. Panting from terror, she flung herself into the elevator and hit the ground-floor button.

She almost made it. The door was shutting when Tirron slipped into the elevator with her. The door closed completely and started down. Without pausing, he held his hand in front of the control panel and the elevator stopped its descent.

“There. Doors locked. No warning lights and bells signaling trouble. We can have our private little talk without irritating interruptions. It won’t be a long talk, though. I don’t do well in metal boxes.”

Ivy didn’t wait for him to do whatever he intended doing. She attacked—clawing, shrieking. Suddenly, whatever had happened during Klepoth’s illusion kicked in again. Her power surge was an explosion of white light and a muffled boom. The force flung her back against the wall of the car. When her vision cleared, she saw Tirron scrambling to his feet on the other side of the elevator. His shocked expression would’ve been funny if the rage that immediately followed it didn’t terrify her.

He didn’t give her a chance to gather her strength before he was on her. No attempt at faery magic, just a straightforward need to hurt. He punched her in the face, knocking her head into the wall behind her. She fell. Pain washed over her and dizziness made her want to throw up.
Don’t pass out.

She tried to stand, but her body had decided that the prone position was more comfy. Ivy fought her body’s weakness—concentrating, demanding that it move. But she hurt too much. Damn. Why couldn’t she call up her faery power again?

Tirron leaned over her. He didn’t say anything for a moment, just stared at her. Then he spoke. “You will obey me.”

He was kidding, right? “Go to hell.”

His anger seemed to have eased, replaced by a thoughtful expression. “Humans usually don’t require threats. I merely compel. But I just tried to order your obedience. It didn’t work. That coupled with your little demonstration of power shows an interesting level of strength for a mongrel.”

What was he talking about? Murmur didn’t have any trouble compelling her. Did that mean Tirron was less powerful than Murmur? The thought vanished as quickly as it came. Not important in the grand scheme of things. The faery in the elevator with her was her top priority.

He frowned. “I’m not going to allow you to ruin this for me, little bitch.” His face hovered mere inches from hers. “You’ll stay in the castle, and you’ll do what you’re told to do.” He’d regained his cold calm. “Do we have an agreement?”

Had she ever thought he was beautiful? She wanted to cringe, curl up on herself, protect her body from his fists. No, she wouldn’t be that person. She tried to ignore the trail of what must be blood trickling down the side of her face. She refused to speak. She glared up at him. Both hims. Ivy blinked. Still dizzy.

The common-sense part of her suggested it was easy to be defiant when he hadn’t gotten to his threats yet.

“If you don’t follow directions like a good little girl, here’s what will happen: I’ll kill your brother. Running won’t help. I’m a hunter. That’s why Bain chose me to track the faery host. I’m very good at what I do. I
will
find you.” His smile promised that he’d enjoy watching her run, seeing her try to hide, feeling her terror. “You’ll tell no one what we’re planning—not Sparkle, not Ganymede, not your brother. Do you understand?”

Ivy didn’t move. She was afraid to speak, afraid she’d scream at him and he’d kill her brother right now. Ivy would’ve defied him if he’d only threatened
her
, but she wouldn’t take a chance with Kellen’s life. So she choked back her words and nodded. Once she was out of the elevator, she’d think of some way to free them.

“Good.” His smile was as icy as his words. “Now, we’ll have to get you cleaned up before anyone sees you. I’ll—”

Ivy had no idea what he would’ve said next because suddenly the car jerked as a heavy weight landed on the roof. She barely had time to register that fact before something peeled back the elevator’s ceiling with a grinding and shrieking of ripping metal.

She looked up just as Murmur leaped through the opening.

This was a Murmur she didn’t know. His eyes glowed red. His fingers ended in long, sharp claws. His lips curled back to expose pointed teeth. And he scared the hell out of her. But everyone was doing that right now. He may as well join the fun.

Everything seemed to move in slow motion now, or maybe that was just her general wooziness after getting Tirron’s fist in her face.

Murmur landed in a crouch.

Tirron backed up, his eyes wary. “What’s wrong with you, demon? She heard what we said about her. I had to stop her.”

Murmur stared, his expression savage, as a sound seemed to take form and substance around him. It gave her an eerie, sick feeling. She shuddered. She couldn’t hear it clearly, but it made her feel as though she were watching something terrifying drag itself from the primordial ooze—hideous and deadly.

“You hurt her. Your part in Bain’s plan is finished.
You’re
finished.”

Tirron looked startled for a moment. He met Murmur’s gaze. Suddenly he widened his eyes. “Well, well. Who would have thought. You’ve—”

The faery didn’t get a chance to finish. Murmur leaped at him.

Ivy curled into the corner of the car and covered her head with her arms. Their kind of fighting might not kill
them
, but she had doubts about her survival.

Then… nothing. There was no music, no sounds of fists meeting flesh, no grunts and cries of pain, no magic whipping around the car. Only the sound of one person breathing. Not her.
She
was holding her breath.

She dared to look up.

Murmur stood in the middle of the car, his fists still clenched. But now his hands were just hands. No claws. He turned to look at her. Green eyes. He didn’t smile, so she couldn’t check out his teeth.

Wisely, he didn’t try to touch her.

“Where’d he go?” She sat up, leaning her back against the wall.

“He dematerialized. He must be old if he managed it surrounded by all this metal. I sent my music after him. He’ll keep running until he’s back in Faery. That’s the only place where he can escape it.” He started to bend toward her.

She held up her hand. “Don’t. Touch. Me.” She took a deep breath. “Why didn’t I hear your music?” Ivy needed a few minutes to gather herself together. Right now, bits of her were scattered all over the landscape, from I-hate-you to Please-hold-me.

“I blocked it. I sent my death music after him. Even though it wasn’t aimed at you, hearing it wouldn’t be something you’d forget.”

“Nightmares?”

“Many.” He took a step toward her. “Look, I know what you heard us say sounded bad…”

“You think?” Her face throbbed and her head hurt. She needed some industrial strength painkillers. “I won’t believe anything you say, so don’t bother trying to explain. But, hey, this is an easy fix for you. You can compel me to silence or make me forget. That’s what you do, isn’t it?” She was channeling her inner bitch, and she didn’t care. She was aching inside and out.

She thought he’d continue to argue. He didn’t. Without consulting her, he bent down and scooped her into his arms. Ivy thought about demanding that he put her down, but she was just too weary. Who knew that betrayal and disillusionment made you yearn for a nap?

A sound above them drew her attention. Bain balanced on what was left of the elevator’s roof.

“What the hell is going on? Where’s Tirron?”

Bain looked horrified when he saw her face. She must look like crap. Too bad. He needed to choose his evil cohorts more carefully.

“Ivy heard our discussion about her. She ran. Tirron caught her. He probably tried a compulsion on her, and it didn’t work. So he beat her.” He speared the other demon with a hard stare. “He won’t be coming back.” Murmur raised her toward Bain. “Take her to my room. I’ll call Cinn to help her.”

Bain leaned down and lifted her. Ivy wanted to complain that no one was asking what
she
wanted to do. She wanted to get Kellen and leave here. Leave her beautiful demon and his beautiful music and his ugly, ugly lies. She would go… Ivy couldn’t remember where. She felt so tired, and everything hurt, and she couldn’t seem to think. She closed her eyes.

Her first thought when she woke was that she
never
passed out. She remembered exactly what had happened up until Murmur handed her to Bain. Then, nothing. She kept her eyes closed, trying to get her bearings.

“She’ll be fine, Murmur. A slight concussion. Just watch her for the rest of the night. I’ve left something for her pain. The eye won’t look too bad by tomorrow. The cut bled a lot—head wounds do—but it wasn’t bad.”

“Thanks, Cinn.”

Murmur sounded relieved, but of course he would. If anything happened to her, who would he trade to the Sluagh Sidhe for Bain’s precious Elizabeth? But even as she thought her cynical thoughts, a small hopeful part of her wanted his worry to have nothing to do with his crazy plot.

“I have to get back in time for Holgarth’s next fantasy. I’m playing the beautiful, clueless virgin for some old guy. Major eww. I really don’t get it. I wouldn’t fantasize about a gorgeous, stupid young stud.” Long pause. “Okay, maybe I would if I were old and withered. If you need anything, just yell.”