The Darkling Lord: Court of the Banished book 1 (Annwyn Series 4) (5 page)

“Very well. Can we get something to eat while we’re out?”

If she’d graced them with her presence earlier she could’ve eaten breakfast with Penn, Marlis and him. “I’m sure we’ll be able to find something.”

There were still cafés and fast food outlets. Supermarkets took a deposit when you entered the door just to make sure you had money.

This time Darah followed him. He pulled on his sunglasses as they left the casino. It was all shiny curves and sleek modern lines, nothing like the manors and castles and cathedrals of Europe. He had always appreciated the aesthetics of things, something else he blamed on his fairy blood. Most people probably gave buildings no second thought as long as they didn’t leak. Especially now.

The sidewalk was cracked and grass was poking through, the roads were in no better shape. There was no money to keep up with repairs and nature was quick to start reclaiming what the humans had taken.

They walked in silence for a while, Passing dilapidated houses with windows that were empty and dark like mouths with jagged glass teeth. They had been boarded up once, but then the boards had been torn down and used for fire wood.

“Why didn’t you bring your body guard?”

“He had other things to do.” Henry said. He didn’t want to be talking about Kaid with Darah. Some secrets were best left untold.

Darah glanced at him; a question flickered briefly in her eyes before vanishing. No doubt she had plenty of questions about what Kaid was up to and possibly about what Kaid was. Most realized quickly that he wasn’t fairy or mortal. Henry would have to be careful about which questions he answered. Like most fairies, he could be selective with the truth without telling an outright lie, but Darah was probably better at asking questions.

They walked along past a row of what had been neat red brick terrace houses, all with matching red doors. Most were now deserted. With so many empty buildings, people had rushed to fill the large fancy ones. No one was making an effort to kick them out. There were too many other problems. At the last terrace house, there was a small knot of people.

Darah flinched, as if expecting trouble. From the roughness of their clothes it was probably a good first assumption, but Henry knew the area and most of the people. They were just queuing at an illegal café, not for coffee, but for soup. Coffee was a luxury that people no longer indulged in—assuming they could find it.

Henry placed a hand on her arm. “It’s generally safe to walk around in daylight. The stray dogs usually keep to themselves, and they don’t seem to like fairies. However, don’t trust the cops—they’ll go looking for a fight.”

“I realized that last night.”

Henry nodded. Last night had been an exercise in reminding him who was in charge. “No, I mean really don’t trust the cops, they are just as bad as the gangs. Many of them haven’t been paid in months because the Mayor says there’s no money.”

“Why is there no money?”

“Because there’s no one to pay taxes. No one has anything. I never did thank you for using the glamour last night.”

“You didn’t just then either,” Darah said without missing a beat.

“I’ll buy you a cup of hot soup and some bread.” He glanced at her; obviously she expected a proper thank you. Would she like it written on vellum in unicorn blood?

Her nose wrinkled. “I suppose I’m going to have to get used to mortal food.”

“Yes you are.”
Princess.
It was no wonder Court fairies were unpopular when they crossed the veil to slum it with the humans. He bet her drifter grandfather would be horrified by her disdain. Bet her grandfather hadn’t been raised at Court with a jewel encrusted stick up his ass.

He stopped at the café that was really just the front window of the house that faced the street. A few plastic chairs littered the front lawn. “Two cups of today’s special with bread, got butter?”

“No butter.” The man shook his head. “Need cows for that.”

Cows…he had nowhere to keep cows and no way to keep them safe. But that didn’t stop him from wanting to ask more. “And where would you put them?”

The man grinned, gaps showing in his front teeth, and ladled the vegetable soup into two slightly chipped cups. “I’d knock down a few fences between houses and set a guard on them. I’d pay the guard in produce.”

“Well, if I find any cows I’ll let you know.”

“I do have chicken on a stick today.” The man’s dark eyes glinted. In the background, his wife said something in a language Henry didn’t speak.

Hmmm. If the man didn’t have a cow, Henry was willing to bet there were no chickens. He’d lived through the Great Depression. “Is it really chicken or is it pigeon?”

“Tastes like chicken.” The man picked up a stick of what could be chicken, and it smelled better than it should. “One for the lady?”

Darah wrinkled her nose and stepped back. “I don’t eat meat.”

“I’m guessing that’s a no. I’ll have hers too. Want to put the meat in the bread for me?”

“Sure thing.” The man plated up the order and handed it over. He knew Henry well enough not to demand payment before handing over the food. Henry paid and he and Darah sat on a couple of plastic chairs.

She looked unimpressed. “I can’t believe you are eating that meat.”

“I can’t believe you aren’t. It’s good.” He bit into the bread stuffed with what was most likely seasoned pigeon to prove the point. Pigeons were the new chicken. People had learned how to trap them. He’d never expected to be eating pigeon again. He’d also made a better effort at getting his finances in order so he wasn’t living hand to mouth. He lived long enough to do that…humans didn’t. He could compound interest over a century, or more.

What was interesting was that even the people who’d stayed in the city were returning to the old ways, trying to be self-sufficient. Most of them didn’t have enough to get going though. Cows and chickens cost money and had to come from somewhere.

The one thing Detroit had now was plenty of vacant space and a smaller population. The city he’d once known was now barely a shadow of its former self. By his estimate only a few hundred thousand people remained. Once it had been home to nearly two million.

Tourism was dead. Industry was trying to stand up on shaky legs. But people needed food before they could spend. They needed jobs. Industry needed a demand before it could employ. It was a vicious circle that the world was beginning to understand.

The only government funded project this time was war.

If he’d had a passport and been able to leave the country, he might have taken off for a nice tropical island somewhere. He was sure that Kaid would approve.

From what he’d heard, Australia and New Zealand had survived quite well simply by shutting borders. As giant islands, that had been most effective in halting incoming plagues.

He ate his pigeon bread and drank his soup, happy to support a small business and be able to buy what he needed this time around. And the next time there was a global disaster? Would he still be kicking in another century?

Darah broke off a little bread and ate it before sipping her soup, tasting both cautiously, as if she expected them to be tainted.

Humans had a resilience that fairies often lacked. Fairies didn’t bounce: they rolled to a stop, sulked, and then started scheming. Humans hit the ground and got straight back up. Then again, humans didn’t have decades to waste wallowing in self-pity.

Maybe by the time his birthday rolled around he’d be able to take a life with a clear conscience…or give in and say farewell. He doubted he’d ever be able to do the latter.

The beginnings of a plan were starting to form. All those steps between here and there were becoming clearer—he had no idea if it would work, but it would be a damn fun ride. The key to his success would be hiding it from the cops and the Mayor. Easier said than done. And he’d already failed once.

This time, though, he’d have fairy magic on his side. Or at least in his possession, if not exactly on his side. He glanced at Darah.

“So, Darah, what did you do to end up here?” The cup warmed his hands. Summer was fast becoming a memory as autumn took hold.

She paused, the cup almost to her lips. After being surrounded by humans and the ugly and awkward Greys for so long, her beauty was like a rose growing among the weeds in sidewalk. Something rare that made him pause.

Her tongue darted over her lip. He shivered, unprepared for the spark of lust the thought ignited. He’d spent a long time keeping those kinds of thoughts deeply buried, and he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to release them. Certainly not with a woman he barely knew and didn’t quite trust.

Although to be fair, most of his sexual encounters had involved women for whom kissing wasn’t part of the job. It was safer for everyone, even if it didn’t satisfy the ache. Darklings didn’t get to love. Any human he did love would eventually die. And Greys, he’d tried once. It was easier to go without.

“I stole from the old Queen.”

“If you were exiled before the power shift and the change of Kings, you’d be dead.” All fairies caught on the wrong side of the veil had died, only the Greys had survived because they were already cut off from the magic. “Don’t lie to me.” He wasn’t a mortal fool who knew nothing of Annwyn.

“That wasn’t a lie.” And she sounded offended that he would accuse of stooping so low. That revealed a little more about her; at least she wouldn’t lie to him…merely mislead. “I was a shadow servant for a year and day as punishment. However, the taint of being one of the mad Queen’s ladies has stained my reputation.”

Henry narrowed his eyes. Her words were too careful. She had never once actually said that she was exiled, merely agreed with the assumption. “You aren’t exiled, are you?”

She sipped her soup but didn’t answer. No confirmation or denial. He was taking that as an affirmative.

He leaned back. This one had teeth and cunning; he was going to have to watch her closely. It had been a long time since anyone had roused the thrill of a hunt and the chance of a good game.

Damn his fairy blood for that one too.

“Why Detroit?” He smiled, and plucked some of the bread. It was always made fresh, but it really needed butter.

“I could ask you the same question.”

“Very well, a truthful answer for a truthful answer.” All fairies loved a deal. Was she enjoying the idea of a game as much as he was? How far was he willing to take it? It was a delicate dance and he couldn’t afford to gamble too much, nor get too distracted.

“That’s an acceptable deal.” She smiled and her gaze sharpened.

He exhaled as lust traced a razor edge over his skin. If he mis-stepped, dancing with Darah was going to hurt.

T
he soup was
bland and the bread was coarse. However, pretending to like it here was one of the sacrifices she was going to have to make to get back to Annwyn and claim her place on the King’s Council.

“You expect me to go first?” She looked at Henry. His eyes were hidden by his sunglasses so she had no idea if he was looking at her or had his eyes closed—that was infuriating.

“I did ask first, so yes I expect you to answer first.” His lips thinned and he hadn’t flinched at her well-practiced icy stare.

Telling him that she’d been sent to spy on him was out of the question. She needed a plausible mistruth. “I wanted to avoid other Court fairies.” She glanced at him. From his expression it wasn’t going to be enough. “I was in the old Queen’s court, and to those that support Felan, that makes me an enemy. To those that supported Sulia, the old Queen’s protégé, it makes me an ally. I don’t want to pick sides and reignite another war.”

That was the truth. She didn’t want another war in Annwyn, and while her reasons for helping Felan were her own, the result was the same—she was on his side. If Henry was rallying the disenfranchised, she would discover it and tell Felan.

He regarded her for a moment. “No, another war wouldn’t be good for anyone.”

“Not even you?” He wanted the city, that much she’d gleaned. But there were bigger, grander cities he could’ve chosen. Not this glorified ghost town.

“Not even me. I came here once many, many years ago, back when it was thriving. I returned out of sentimentality, but also because people had given up on it. No one is keeping a close eye on things here. By the time they take a closer look, I want to have turned things around.” He spoke with a conviction she’d only ever heard in fairies with true ambition. The nerve to play to the wire and gamble every last coin. Her husband had been one of them; however, he’d lost.

Verden, the old Lord of the Hunt, had lost…maybe. He was married and living on this side of the veil, and his sentence had been commuted to exile. The only thing he’d lost was status at Court and if Felan had his way that would no longer matter. That idea still sat uncomfortably with in her. Without power and status what was there to live for?

Nothing. Even Henry realized that and he was only part banished fairy. She finished the soup and managed not to grimace. She’d be drinking plenty more soup before returning to Annwyn.

“In a thriving city that is fixing itself, I’d just be a cog. Here I can be…” He shrugged as though he hadn’t quite decided what he wanted to be.

“Lord?” she finished for him? “Lord of Greys and mortals?” Was such a thing possible? While it was true fairies had once been worshipped as gods, that had been a long time ago.

“They call them mayors these days and I’d do a better job than MacGill is.” The edge was back in his voice, as though even mentioning the name was distasteful. That was pretty much how she felt about her dead husband.

However Henry had revealed what he wanted. Power, even if he couldn’t, or didn’t want to name it. In that he was the same as any fairy. She was beginning to see why Felan was interested in Henry. Not only was he an adult darkling—which was rare given that they needed a new soul every year—he was also ambitious and friendly with Greys. Not just friendly, they listened to him and did his bidding. That was dangerous for mortals and for Annwyn.

Darah assumed MacGill was the current mayor who was supposed to be running the city. She may not have spent much time in the mortal world but even she could tell he wasn’t doing a very good job. “And once you have the city, what then?”

How big did his plans stretch?

He looked at her for a moment. His eyes were unreadable behind his sunglasses. She really needed a pair of them, not that she could imagine them being worn at Court. Most would scorn such a measure as a sign of weakness.

“Then I show both worlds what can be achieved if humans and fairies work together. Greys are not the rubbish Annwyn has thrown out. They aren’t evil or trouble makers—well, no more so than any fairy.” His lips curved.

“You want to reveal the truth?” Humans had stopped believing in fairies centuries ago…mostly. Was Henry really considering going back to the old ways? He couldn’t be old enough to remember them, surely? She wasn’t old enough to remember those days.

“I didn’t say that.”

No he hadn’t. Not explicitly anyway. But then fairies could be judged on what they didn’t say as much as by what they did say. Henry behaved a lot more like a fairy than a mortal. Not what she’d expected at all, and it intrigued her. She shouldn’t find the son of a Grey so interesting.

“Let me show you something.” He stood up and gathered up her cup, returning them to the window where they had been served. He spoke a few words to the man there, and both of them laughed.

People liked him, that much was clear. However, she was sure that if they knew what he did once a year they’d run.

The sidewalk was uneven, and there was litter piled up in places. Henry didn’t seem to notice the mess or the smell. Her lunch tumbled in her stomach but she refused to do anything as undignified as throw up. Henry kept walking, expecting her to follow like some kind of tamed pet. Behind his back, she grimaced. She wasn’t one of his Greys.

Just as she was getting ready to say something, he stopped at a large grassy area. The ground looked as though it had been churned up—the surface was uneven and the grass that had regrown was long and needed cutting. A few kids played there, while an older kid watched.

“One night a few Greys and I planted this park with vegetable seedlings. I got all the kids in the area involved and the parents. Some of them were gang kids. I was trying to get a community garden going so that there’d be vegetables for summer. Some were almost big enough to be harvested when the cops came through and took the lot. The gang kids retaliated and there was a fight. Blood was spilled and both sides blamed me for the resulting deaths.” He kicked a mounded of dirt. “This could’ve been the start of something.”

“So why didn’t you replant?”

“Because I don’t want blood on my hands. They were kids. The cops already ride my ass and expect bribes and payments. You saw that last night. But food is an issue.”

“Cows.” She could see what he was planning. It should be a bloodless revolution. He’d give the people what the needed, plus ownership, and in exchange he’d rule and protect. The Greys were his army, but not in the way Felan had thought. She’d seen the Greys chase after the cops after she’d clouded their minds last night. The cops would have no idea what was haunting them, hiding their keys and tripping them up. A clever Grey could break a mortals mind, but she doubted Henry would let it get that far.

None of this was about revenge, at least on the surface. If there was an ulterior motive, it was well hidden. Henry seemed as though he genuinely wanted to help…that was very un-fairy.

“Exactly. I do need to replant. But I need to do it better. Smarter. I went for the public statement. I was thinking like a human, when I should be playing a long game like a fairy.”

Her gaze slid from the field to Henry. While his features weren’t as refined as a fairy, he had that ageless look about him. Young until he spoke, or she looked into his eyes. He was older than he appeared. She had no idea how old and she doubted Felan did either, not exactly.

“Fairies play over centuries.” Darah watched him closely, looking for a tell.

“I know…maybe not that long.” He smiled. “I measure my life in deaths. Thinking in centuries is rather painful.”

She seized the opening. “So how old are you?”

“In deaths, two hundred and six. In years, one hundred and thirty two.” He sighed and hooked his thumbs into his pockets. “I’d like to be able to say they all deserved it, but alas they didn’t.”

Two hundred and six souls. He was breaking no rules in surviving. She was guessing the souls came to him willingly with no trickery involved, but she wasn’t sure. Darklings were rarer than changelings and Annwyn knew little enough about those. Compared to a fairy Henry was still a youth, though compared to a mortal he was ancient. Not even changelings lived that long. Changelings had a normal mortal lifespan. Henry was truly an oddity.

An oddity with a conscience.

“You really want to help the humans.”

He nodded. “It’s the least I can do.”

In that moment he seemed quite frail and human. He had compassion for people he didn’t know and who would hate him and fear him if they knew the truth. Why would anyone do that? What was in it for him…becoming mayor? There had to be more to it.

Darah pressed a little deeper, determined to dig while he was talking so freely. “Do you want an empire or to help?”

“Can’t I have both?” There was his smile, the one that must make humans trip over themselves to do his bidding. Mortal women must fall at his feet the way human men would fall at hers if she let them. The only difference was she wouldn’t kill her lovers, at least not accidentally.

“There are plenty of places that need help. Hundreds of cities.” She’d gained an appreciation for the damage done by the plagues by reading the newspapers when she’d first crossed the veil, but the numbers were too vast for her to comprehend.

“I have to start somewhere.”

Was his plan bigger than just one city? Fairies hadn’t ruled the mortal world for millennia. Felan would never let that happen again, not under his rule.

Even other Court fairies who were in the mortal world weren’t attempting anything so bold. No one wanted to get caught up in mortal dramas. Except Henry. He’d rolled up his sleeves and was already up to his elbows. If she wasn’t careful, he’d be dragging her into the muck.

“It’s not your responsibility. Let the mortals fix their own problems.” Humanity had always come around after a fairy war. She knew her history and had listened to the singing stones in Annwyn when she was younger.

He turned to face her. “And who caused the mess? Felan and Sulia bickering for the throne. A battle that no one knows or cares about, and yet humans paid the price.”

“Fairies died too.” The snow had been stained with blue blood. The memory made her stomach tighten. There were a lot fewer fairies than there were humans.

“I heard it was a formal battle…what’s that, ten, twenty, thirty fairies each side?” he glanced over the top of his sunglasses. His eyes like chips of ice.

How did he know that? Did he have a source in Annwyn? Felan had given her this job in private. There was no one who knew of her mission, and yet she felt exposed. However, his information was incomplete…perhaps he had only heard gossip.

“Twenty per side. Eleven died of their injuries.” Felan had almost lost.

He snorted and shook his head. “Eleven fairies to half a billion humans.”

She blinked, not sure of the point he was making. Was he suggesting more fairies should’ve died? The plagues weren’t deliberate, just a sign that the worlds were out of balance. “You care more about humans than fairies? There are far more humans in the world.”

“That doesn’t make them less important.” He paused and frowned, his gaze sweeping across the field and the kids playing there. “Humans have shorter lives. They have to live harder and with more feeling. Until you’ve spend time among them you have no idea what it is like on this side of the veil.”

Maybe Henry had spent too much time with mortals. His emotions were getting the better of him, something no fairy would let happen. Yet he obviously saw something in humanity that she was missing.

“And you have spent no time in Annwyn.” He had no idea what it was like there and what the last couple of decades had been like as the old Queen had become crueler. “Felan has closed the Court and ordered fairies to walk this side of the veil.”

Henry’s gaze snapped back to her. “Felan, eh? First name basis with the King.”

He took a step back. Behind him, the long grass rustled and a dog barked somewhere in the maze of buildings. If Annwyn in winter was cold and brutal, Detroit was jagged and rough. But it was still possible to cut yourself with a blunt razor.

Henry wasn’t as blunt as he appeared. He’d caught her slip. She cursed herself for being so careless, but it was so easy to talk to Henry. And while she hated admitting it, she liked his plans. Part of her wanted to see if he had the courage to follow them all the way through and do what had to be done to become Mayor of Detroit and make it a thriving city again. What a feat that would be.

“I was his mother’s Lady for centuries. Of course I know her son. That doesn’t mean he has any affection for me or any of the other women who served his mother.” Not a total lie, but about as close as she was going to come. She had been Eyra’s Lady long before she’d become Felan’s spy. If Shea hadn’t betrayed her, she would never have started spying…and she’d have ended up backing the wrong contender for the throne. Shea really had done her a few favors. No doubt he’d be annoyed if he realized he’d inadvertently helped the wife he’d hoped to cast off.

“And where are the other women?”

“They were encouraged to leave Court.” Felan had made it clear that all who had supported Sulia were unwelcome, but he hadn’t gone so far as banishing them. As a shadow, she’d thought it weak. Now she wasn’t so sure. Perhaps by letting them go, he was showing that he had nothing to fear. She hoped he was right.

Henry took a step around her and she was forced to turn to keep him in sight. She didn’t like that he was able to make her do anything even if it was a ploy to show he had power. She could’ve ignored him and stared straight ahead, but she had to win his trust. Had to become part of his inner circle. She wasn’t even touching the inner circle yet. She was merely being shown the edges.

“He exiled those who fought directly against him, no one else.” She’d seen no sign of those exiled fairies here in Detroit—had Felan been fearing that? Perhaps the exiled were avoiding the area because there were so many Greys.

“I have seen no Court fairy here since I arrived in Detroit, and yet you came here.” Now it was Henry who wanted answers.

“I heard about you and I was curious.” That was the truth. She took a step toward him. He didn’t step back. “An adult darkling? You are unusual.”