Bloodline (11 page)

Inigo couldn’t help himself. He slid his hand to Micah’s groin, happy to feel he was hard again. “You’ve barely started with me. Maybe you ought to rub yourself all over me so I smell of faerie.”

Micah chuckled. “We already did that.”

“We can do it again.”

“Hold that thought.”

As Micah climbed down the ladder, Inigo leaned over the platform and watched him leave.

“What the hell am I going to do if you don’t come back?” he whispered.

“Well, at least I’ll get a good night’s sleep.”

Inigo froze. That voice in his head hadn’t been his.

“Who said that?” he asked.

“Me. Blade. The horse. If only I could have closed my ears. I’d have run if I wasn’t tethered. All that moaning and groaning and slurping and sucking. I’m utterly traumatized.”

“Well fuck me,” Inigo gasped.

“No, thank you.”

Chapter Seven

Micah checked the ground and the sky before he emerged from the barn but neither saw nor heard any sign of any pursuit. He was reluctant to approach those who lived at the farm for help and possibly lose Inigo’s sanctuary. Better that he moved as far away from here as he could, though he still wasn’t giving the vampire much chance of survival. Without a way back to the other side, he was stuck. They were both stuck. And so was the shifter he’d been sent to retrieve.

Staying alert, he let his wings out and, keeping low, made his way back to the village they’d traveled through. He was too tense to feel the exhilaration of flight. The opportunity to take to the air on the other side came rarely. It was too much of a risk, though his boss made all faeries practice flying in the deserted Scottish Highlands. Annoying that when he’d rushed to his parents after Ellie had discovered how to return the Kewen, he’d been forced to rely on the superior speed of his boss’s deputy.

Micah had money in his pocket thanks to the donor of the clothes he wore, and he made for the first inn he spotted. When everyone fell silent at his entrance, he mentally groaned. Did they know he was an intruder? He approached the bar and pulled out a handful of coins. He didn’t even know the bloody currency. He might not have enough for a drink. The surly-faced landlord slapped a towel on the counter, splattering Micah with stale beer.

He was tempted to ask for a champagne cocktail with a straw and a cherry just to see the guy’s expression, but he said, “Ale, please.”

A tankard slammed down in front of him, the contents slopping over the top. Micah held out his hand. The faerie picked up three coins, gave him a sly look, and picked up two more.

Micah slunk to the corner of the room and sat down.

“What’s a king’s guard doing slumming it in here?” asked a voice to his left.

Oh shit
. That was what was wrong.

“I stole his clothes and money when I escaped from the castle dungeon,” Micah said.

He could see no point in anything but the truth. He needed the help of those who didn’t like the king. If he wasn’t open, how could he expect anyone else to be the same? The man who’d spoken, an older faerie with long gray hair, scraped his chair across the flagstone floor and planted his tankard next to Micah’s.

“Is there a reward for your capture?”

Brilliant idea, fuckwit
. “I don’t know.”

“Perhaps I should ask at the castle.”

The moment any faerie left the inn, Micah would too. He kept his voice loud enough for others to hear. “I arrived in Faerieland yesterday through a portal in the king’s bedchamber. I’ve never been here before. My family was banished, accused of stealing the Kewen, and not able to return until we found it.”

“The Norwoods,” said a man standing by the fire.

Micah turned to face him. Another older faerie. “Yes. I’m Micah Norwood. My sister and I brought back the Kewen. She returned to the other side, and now I need to find a way back.”

The faerie sitting with him laughed. “Good luck with that.”

Micah glanced around the room but saw no sign of willingness to help on any face.
Damn
. “Have any other strangers recently crossed the Divide into Faerieland?”

“Not that I know of,” said the guy at his side.

“I’m looking for a girl. Jayne Hart?”

A sea of blank faces.

“She’s a shifter.”

“What kind?” asked the guy by the fire.

“Wolf.”

Micah sensed a message passing around the room.

“You might ask the queen,” muttered the guy next to him.

Did that mean Jayne was in the castle? He decided to drink his ale then move on. The longer he stayed in one place, the more dangerous it became. He was tempted to reveal he suspected the king was half-mortal and why, but concern that Oberon would have no hesitation in killing every faerie in the inn kept him quiet. When he opened his mouth, he had to tell the right person.

“You should have left before now,” whispered the faerie at his side. He put his mouth to Micah’s ear. “Fenwick Forest. Rumor has it that portal’s still open. Find Kit Rivers. Tell him we need him back.”

The door of the inn burst open, and faeries dressed in the same clothes as Micah flooded in. He jumped out of his seat and fled toward what he hoped was a rear exit, but someone landed on his back and brought him crashing down. He rolled over, trying to squirm free, and found the guy who’d stood by the fire on top of him.

“I got him,” the faerie shouted and muttered, “Sorry,” under his breath.

As the faerie slipped off him, guards took over and yanked Micah to his feet. Cavan stepped forward and slammed his fist into Micah’s belly. He doubled over in agony.

“Take him back to the castle,” Cavan barked.

As two guards hauled him outside, Micah heard the sound of pounding hooves and before he could blink, Inigo had dragged him from the grip of the faeries up onto the back of the horse from the barn, and they were galloping away at a far higher speed than any horse he’d ever seen before was capable of managing.

“I thought animals didn’t like you?” Micah gasped.

“Blade does. Well, he says he does. He could be lying.”

“You can talk to a horse?”

“Apparently. He says having to listen to us playing around in the loft traumatized him. Despite all that, he was still willing to help me. Particularly when I managed to scratch his itch in a place he couldn’t reach. Remind me to wash my hands.”

Micah clung tighter as the horse weaved around obstacles. “Ask him to take us to Fenwick Forest. There might be a portal open there.”

“Blade, my beautiful friend, would you be so kind as to take us to Fenwick Forest? If you know where the portal is, that would be even better. As would losing our pursuers before we get there.”

When the horse galloped into a wood, Micah tucked in behind Inigo, hoping the vampire didn’t get his head knocked off. He couldn’t believe the speed they were going. A quick glance back showed no sign of anyone following, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t happening.

“How can we travel so fast?” he muttered into Inigo’s ear.

They suddenly went faster, and Micah let out a strangled laugh.

“Blade says he’s a champion, but what I have in my pocket helps.”

“Did you know you could talk to animals?” he asked.

“No. It’s the substance in the flask. Maybe you can too… Ah, Blade says no.”

“Not that I’m ungrateful, but I thought I told you to stay where you were?” Micah said in his ear.

“I…I sensed you were in trouble.”

How the fuck had he done that?

Blade pulled up by a large oak tree, its gnarled trunk twisted to reveal a dark gap at the base, and they slithered off.

“Thank you,” Inigo said and stroked the horse’s flank.

Blade nuzzled his head, then his pocket before he cantered away.

“It must be at the foot of this tree,” Micah said. “You go first.”

Inigo narrowed his eyes. “No, you.”

Micah sagged. “I can’t leave. Not yet.”

The vampire glared. “Why the hell not?”

“There’s…someone I have to find. A missing shifter. It’s my job, what I do. One of the reasons I came here.”

“Are you crazy?” Inigo gaped at him. “The king will kill you. He almost
did
kill you.”

“I can’t leave yet, but you have to. I need you to find my family. The Norwoods. My father works at the British Museum. Tell him it’s not safe here, that they mustn’t cross over the Divide no matter what they’re told or promised. Tell him to keep the bill of sale safe.”

Inigo crossed his arms. “Tell him yourself.”

Micah shook his head. The faerie in the inn had given him a clue to the whereabouts of Jayne Hart. The queen. He couldn’t leave until he’d followed it up.

“Then I’m not going either,” Inigo whispered.

“Yeah, you are.” Micah shoved him hard into the hole, and Inigo stumbled, flailed, and disappeared.

When Micah turned, there was a group of faeries headed toward him, Cavan in the lead.
Shit
. Bang went his plan to sneak back into the castle. Maybe he ought to cross to the other side after Inigo and come back later. Once he was captured, he could do nothing. As he threw himself toward the portal, he collided with something coming the other way, something horribly burned, clothes and skin flaking off. Micah looked with horror into Inigo’s stricken eyes before the vampire collapsed in his arms and slumped to the ground.

Fuck, fuck, fuck
. “Inigo!”
What have I done?

Micah caught sight of the top of the flask poking from the remains of the pocket of Inigo’s pants. Hiding what he was doing from the guards closing in on him, he yanked it out, pulled off the top, and tipped a glug into the vampire’s mouth before he pushed the flask back deep into Inigo’s other more intact pocket.

I FUCKING HURT. Shit, fuck, bollocks
. Inigo was afraid to open his mouth in case his jaw fell off. He felt as though he was crumbling to pieces, those bits of him that weren’t charred. He forced himself to swallow when Micah held the flask to his lips, but it was a struggle.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” Micah whispered. “Bite me. Hurry.” The faerie put his wrist against Inigo’s mouth, but his fangs were still sizzling, unable to emerge.

“Shit.” Ryn dropped to his haunches at their side. “What the hell happened?”

Cavan yanked Micah upright, thrust him into the hands of the guards, then looked down at Inigo. “What do we have here? Barbecued meat. Are you cooked on both sides?”

Bastard.

Inigo struggled to keep his eyes open. Maybe Micah was the last thing he’d see. Better that than sunlight.
Fuck, I’m in agony
. Though that mouthful from the flask seemed to be helping. At least he hadn’t turned to ash—yet. He’d never been this badly burned.

Cavan’s eyes glittered. “Maybe we should just throw you back into the portal.”

Micah howled and struggled to get free of the guards. “The king needs him to do his tattoo. You’re going to piss him off if you don’t bring the vampire back.”

“He’s already pissed off with both of you.” Cavan scowled at Inigo and turned his gaze on Micah. “How come you can speak?”

“I guess the king’s magic wore off. Maybe he didn’t listen in school. Maybe he’s crap at spells. Maybe he’s…”

Cavan stepped right into Micah’s face. “Be careful what you say,” he hissed. He nodded to the faeries holding Micah. “Take him back.”

“I’ll bring the vampire,” Ryn said.

Cavan smirked. “He’ll be a pile of ash before you return. Good riddance. He’s a useless tattoo artist.”

Inigo bristled.

“He hasn’t even started tattooing yet,” Micah blurted as the faeries holding him took to the air, dragging him with them. “He only tried a mock-up to be sure it was what the king wanted.”

Inigo watched until they disappeared through the canopy of the trees.

“Give him some of your blood,” Cavan said. “Handling a piece of charred shit’s about all you’re good for. If he dies, it will be on you.”

He signaled to those faeries who remained, and they left.

“And if you survive, he’ll take all the credit,” Ryn muttered before he turned to Inigo. “What can I do to help you?”

“Blood.” Inigo’s lips cracked as he said the word.

The faerie offered his wrist.

“Stop. Me. Taking. Too. Much.”

Ryn’s eyes widened. “How?”

“Hit. Me.”

Inigo tried to be gentle, but he was desperate. Even though he sensed himself healing after the gulp from the flask, he couldn’t take the risk of not feeding on faerie blood when it was offered. Within a few swallows, the pain that had spread over every square inch of his body began to recede faster into his core.
Thank fuck for that
. It was strange because although Ryn tasted better than any mortal, he didn’t taste as good as Micah.

Oh fuck, Micah
. The king was going to kill him.

It took every ounce of strength and will he had to lick closed the wounds on Ryn’s wrist and move his mouth away from temptation.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

“You look better already.”

“Feel better.”

Ryn smiled at him. “It’s like a miracle watching you heal.”

Inigo caught sight of Blade pawing the ground nearby. Above the horse’s head three squirrels sat on a branch, and above them were a line of birds.
Fucking hell, it’s a Disney moment
. “Where’s Bambi?”

“Shy,”
said Blade.

“You were supposed to return to the barn,” Inigo said as Blade trotted over.

“I heard you scream. Did you go back into daylight on the other side?”

“The portal was barred by fire,” Inigo said.

“Are you talking to the horse?” Ryn asked.

“Yes.”

Blade whinnied.

“We need to go to the castle,” Inigo said.

He hauled himself upright, leaned against the tree, then lurched forward. He didn’t want to accidentally fall into the portal. “We can ride Blade. He’ll take us back.”

“The king won’t let you escape again. You could…knock me out…use another portal.”

Inigo smiled. “That’s a kind thought, but I’m not leaving without Micah.” He clambered onto Blade and held out his hand to Ryn. The faerie climbed up behind him and wrapped his arms around his waist. The rest of Inigo’s T-shirt fell away, but he was relieved to see intact flesh beneath. A small deer darted out as Blade launched into a canter, and Inigo laughed.
Hello, Bambi
. He tucked his head down and hung on.