Bloodline (12 page)

“I thought animals feared vampires?” Ryn said at his ear.

“So did I, but those in Faerieland love me.”

The horse laughed inside Inigo’s head.

“It’s not you we love, vampire, but what you have inside you.”

Inigo hated to appear thick, but “What’s that?” he mumbled into Blade’s ear.

“The blood of our last king.”

So it
was
blood in that flask.

Blade snickered. “
Our king was a unicorn.”

Oh shit.

“Is it true about the tattoo?” Ryn asked and distracted him.

Much as Inigo wanted to believe Ryn was on their side, he knew better than to trust a faerie. Cavan had appeared not to like Ryn, but it could all have been an act.

Inigo played safe. “What about the tattoo?”

“The rumor that it didn’t stay on the king’s skin.”

“Ah.”

“And why would you use the unicorn blood if you were just doing a mock-up?” Ryn asked.

“I wasn’t sure any mark would take without it.”

“You’re lying. You think I’m going to repeat what you say to Cavan or the king?”

Inigo smiled. “It crossed my mind.”

He felt the faerie tense at his back. Ryn went silent for a few moments. “I gave you my blood. I trusted you not to drink too much. I’ve tried to help you. I don’t like what’s happening in this kingdom. Since Oberon the Sixth died, things have changed. Faeries have disappeared. Who’s Micah? Where did he come from? What happened when you tattooed Oberon?”

“If I tell you what we suspect, you’ll be in as much trouble as us.”

Ryn laughed. “You heard the way Cavan speaks to me, like I’m a piece of shit stuck to his shoe. I’m only in the king’s court because that bastard Oberon is married to my oldest sister, and my father insisted I stay with her. I worry for her. I worry for me. I worry for all the four kingdoms.”

“Tell him,”
Blade said in his head. “
Trust him. Who else can help you?”

“The king’s instructions were to add one drop of liquid to the ink,” Inigo said. “The tattoo faded almost instantly. Then he claimed he’d said ten drops, so I added ten. I suspect it made no difference. The tattoo will vanish. He was quick to pull on his shirt after I’d inked as much as I could without falling asleep. If he was pure fae, then the tattoo should have stayed.”

“Oh hell,” Ryn muttered.

Inigo felt the faerie’s long exhale against his shoulder.

“What I’m going to tell you now is dangerous,” Inigo said. “Oberon will use any means he can to suppress the truth.”

“What truth?” Ryn asked.

“It seems his father was mortal.”

Ryn gripped him harder, and Inigo winced. His healing wasn’t complete.

“Mortal?” Ryn gasped.

“His father was kidnapped and transported to Faerieland along with two others to replace three royal children who’d died.”

“Well then how did a tattoo stay on
that
king’s back?”

“Maybe because he was born mortal, ordinary ink worked. I also wonder if I knew the tattoo artist. A friend of mine said he’d once inked a faerie, a long time ago, and it could be that was the current king’s grandfather. Maybe my friend was called back again to tattoo Oberon the Sixth and had the same problems as me. Maybe he found ordinary ink worked, but whatever the case, he never came back.”

“Why would Oberon the Seventh think the tattoo would stick?”

“Ignorance? Arrogance? I guess he hoped he’d absorbed enough faerie essence that there wouldn’t be a problem. Regardless, I wasn’t going to be allowed to leave after I’d completed the tattoo.”

“Then why are you letting me take you back?”

“Micah. Oberon will kill him and kill his family to keep his secret.”

“The bigger the rumor, the more difficult it will be to destroy,” Ryn said.

“True, but if people are afraid of the king, what can they do?”

“If I tell my father, he’ll come and get my sister. There might be a war.”

Oh fuck. That can’t be good
. “Does your sister love Oberon?”

“She says she does, but I think she’s afraid and lying. He’s not someone you want to…disappoint.”

They cantered toward the village, the castle looming into view beyond.

“How did the three children die?” Ryn asked.

“No good asking me. No one knows that they did. They all think Oberon the Seventh is pure fae.”

“That explains why his aunt and uncle disappeared. They must have been born mortal too.”

Inigo frowned. “I wonder if Oberon had a hand in their disappearance.”

“If he did, they’re dead.”

“I think you should go to your father,” Inigo said. “Tell him what I’ve told you. If I get captured in the castle and they ask what happened to you, I’ll eventually admit I had a little accident, drank too much, and buried you.” He pulled the horse to a halt, slipped off, and pulled the flask out of his pocket. “Take this. Look after it.”

Ryn’s eyes widened. He didn’t take the flask.

“Blade, would you be good enough to take Ryn wherever he wants to go?” Inigo asked.

“What am I? A taxi service?”

“I won’t leave my sister. I’d protect her with my life. Nor will I leave my lover.”

Ryn dropped down to the ground from the horse’s back, and Inigo smiled.
Now
he trusted him.

“Then thank you, Blade. I won’t forget your kindness.” He looked at the flask in his hand and then into the horse’s eyes. “You want a spot?”

Blade pawed the ground and nodded his head.
“It would be an honor and would forever link us. Perhaps I’ll grow a horn.”

Oh shit. I hope I don’t.

Blade whinnied and curved his lips in what looked like a grin. Had he guessed what Inigo had thought? He tipped some of the liquid into his hand and let the horse lap it up.

“Take care, vampire.”

After Blade had galloped off, he sighed.

“Now what?” Ryn asked.

“You drag me into the castle and tell the king that under threat of you not feeding me to save my life, I confessed I only pretended to use the unicorn blood in the ink, and that you’ll make sure I do it properly next time. I have an idea how to make the tattoo stay. It will give me time to help Micah find whoever it is he’s looking for and possibly a way out of Faerieland that doesn’t involve falling into hell.”

“How is that going to help us get rid of a bad king who’s not even pure fae?”

Not my problem. But
… “You can’t be the only one who doesn’t like him.”

They emerged from the village and set off on the track up to the castle.

“Everyone’s afraid not to pretend. Those who dare speak out disappear. Cavan makes sure of it.”

“So what will it take for things to change?”

“A new king.”

Chapter Eight

Rarely in Micah’s life had he been as depressed as he felt now. Why the hell hadn’t he thought to check that portal before he’d shoved Inigo into it? When he’d seen the vampire’s burned face and his smoldering clothes, guilt had driven a hole through his heart. It had shocked him when Inigo wouldn’t—couldn’t feed from him, and Micah had wanted to howl.

He’d done his best to make a case for the vampire to be brought back to the castle, but had no idea whether he’d survive long enough to make the journey or even if it had been the right thing to do. To make matters worse, there was a tinge of pink on the horizon. He’d hoped that if he found the missing shifter, she’d be able to sniff out a working portal, but now he doubted whether he or Inigo would live long enough to see the end of the day, let alone look for a faerie called Kit Rivers on the other side. He’d fucked everything up.

Cavan and his cronies hauled him across the courtyard into the castle.

Oberon stood waiting. “Well done.”

Micah thought about how Inigo would probably have quipped
thank you
and have given the king one of his gut-wrenching smiles, and the ache in his heart intensified.

“Where’s the vampire?” Oberon asked.

“He caught fire trying to get through a portal,” Cavan said. “Ryn’s bringing him back, though I’m not sure the bloodsucker will make it.”

Micah’s heart lurched. Maybe Oberon didn’t want him to make it. If Inigo couldn’t do the tattoo, it would give the king time to think of a way round the problem.

“Bring this piece of shit to the Blue Room,” Oberon said. “Assuming the vampire survives, he can join us, together with his equipment.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Cavan yanked Micah along the corridor after the king.

When the king went into a room at the end, Cavan nodded to the faerie guards and all but two fell back.

The Blue Room wasn’t blue. Micah ran his gaze over it. It was a large square space with walls and ceiling sporting marks that looked as if they’d been made by the crossbow resting on a stand in the corner. A large wooden cross with restraints dominated one wall, with ropes and pulleys hanging overhead. His gaze was drawn to a rack of what appeared to be oversize kitchen implements, but weren’t.
Shit
. Oh yeah, and there were a lot of bloodstains. On the walls, the floor, and the ceiling. Micah gulped.

“Strip him and attach his wrists to the hoist,” Oberon said.

Micah made an attempt to get free, but three large faeries didn’t have too much trouble doing as Oberon ordered.

They yanked him up until his toes brushed the floor, and Micah gritted his teeth against the strain on his shoulders. Cavan laughed as he squeezed Micah’s balls. When Oberon clipped bands of iron around his ankles, the weight dragged his feet into closer contact with the ground. He almost cried out in pain and stopped himself.

He doesn’t know I can speak
. Micah’s heart jumped. As the two faeries who’d helped Cavan started to leave, he stared directly at the king and spoke. “No purebred faerie should be able to touch iron. Explain how you can.”

Oberon’s eyes widened.

Cavan smacked his hand across Micah’s mouth, his ring cutting his lip. “Our king has power far beyond the capability of a normal faerie.”

Blood trickled over Micah’s chin, and he licked his lip. “I watched the tattoo fade from his body. It would have stayed on a pure-blooded faerie.”

“Liar.” Cavan struck him again, and his head whipped round to hit the wall.

Fuck
. Micah turned to look at the faeries by the door. “He bespelled me dumb. How come I can talk?”

The next blow pounded into his solar plexus, and breathing was impossible, let alone talking.

“You’re a despicable liar making pathetic attempts to avoid punishment,” Oberon snapped. “Once the vampire returns, he’ll complete my tattoo and I’ll reveal it at court later today.”

“Leave,” Cavan snapped at the two faeries.

Micah tried to speak, but his voice had been taken by magic again.
Shit
. He wished he knew some way to protect himself against enchantment. When the door closed, his hope went with it.

“Return his voice,” Oberon said. “I want to hear him scream. I’d like others to hear him scream.”

Micah couldn’t repress his shudder.

“Put out your wings,” Oberon snapped.

Like hell, I will.

“Want me to send a faerie to see your father? Tell him you need him here?”

Micah scowled and Oberon laughed. “Put out your fucking wings.”

No way
. Oberon could trick his family into coming regardless of whether he cooperated.

“Fine,” said the king. “I’ll cut them out.”

Oh shit
. Cavan spun him round so that his face banged against the wall. Micah could see and smell blood.
I have so cocked this up
. Sorry as he felt for the shifter he was supposed to be rescuing, that he’d put his own family in such danger filled him with horror. He’d relied on Inigo telling them not to come, relied on Inigo being safe on the other side, and assumed with the vampire out of the way, he’d be able to concentrate on finding the missing girl.
I’m an arrogant fool.

“Last chance,” Oberon said. “Put them out, or I’ll slice them from your back.”

Micah let his wings emerge, his spine prickling as they unfolded from his body. Cavan spun him round again to face the room. Oberon walked to the far side and picked up the crossbow.
Oh hell.

“Keep still,” the king said. “You don’t want me to miss.”

When the bolt hit the tip of his right wing and pinned it to the wall, Micah cried out. The second bolt pinned his other wing, and pain radiated into every cell of his body. His wings were almost as sensitive as his balls. He didn’t need to look down to know that the body parts in question, having been traumatized by that bastard Cavan, were currently trying to hide behind his cock that was itself hoping to shrink to invisibility.

“You’re…a terrible shot,” he gasped.

Another bolt hit the bottom of his left wing.
Oh fuck, fuck, fuck.

Oberon sniggered. “Yeah, I know.”

Three more bolts had Micah shaking from head to toe, his breathing reduced to ragged gasps. He managed to snag Cavan’s gaze, hoping to see some speck of sympathy, and saw only the same deviant excitement that possessed Oberon.
Twin psychopaths. Great.

“Go keep a lookout for the vampire,” Oberon said, and Cavan left.

Micah’s eyes fluttered closed. This was the worst pain he’d ever experienced, and he had a feeling Oberon was just getting started. When a yank on the rope hoisted him a foot into the air and his wings tore around the bolts, Micah screamed so loudly the sound echoed around the room and slammed back into his brain like a blow from a hammer.

When he opened his eyes, Oberon stood right in front of him and spat the words into his face. “You couldn’t keep your fucking mouth shut, so I have to shut it for you—permanently. I’ll invite your family back for your funeral. A tragic accident. A vampire who’d snuck into the kingdom tore you apart. Very sad. But I personally tore him limb from limb as punishment. Then after your family arrives, there’ll be another tragic accident. The Belor Sands, I think. An invitation to a private picnic to commemorate your passing. Why would they know about the quicksand?”