Knight of Pentacles (Knights of the Tarot Book 3) (29 page)

When someone kicked him hard in the thigh, his lips parted involuntarily. Savory blood flowed over his tongue. Closing his eyes, he sank his fangs into her flesh and began to suck. Euphoria flooded his system. For the first time in days, he no longer felt pain—or hunger. When the urge to mount the girl threatened to overpower his resistance, he held the image of Jenna in his mind as he offered a silent prayer to Thor, asking for the strength to remain faithful.

* * * *

Holding tight to his horse’s reins, Axel gazed at the stars above the spired towers of Castle Le Fay. On Samhain, when the vale was at its thinnest, the night sky of the mortal realm bled through. Tonight, all the inhabitants of the Thitherworld would cross over in a grand procession that would end with the sacrifice of those being tithed.

Himself included.

His skin crawled at the thought. While there was no shame in being sacrificed, there was no glory in it, either—or any hope of happiness. They would cut open his chest while he yet breathed and pluck out his heart. He would die and go to Helheim, where his immortal soul would remain for the rest of eternity.

Unless, of course, Jenna came for him. Not that, even if she should, there were any guarantees she would succeed.

He ran his hand down the neck of his designated mount—a pure white faery stallion with a bell-bedecked golden saddle and bridle that rang each time the horse threw his head or stamped his silver hooves.

A trumpet sounded—the signal to mount. All the Unseelie factions were assembled. Goblins, dwarves, faeries, elves, and vampires, among them. Elsewhere, there would be a separate-but-similar cavalcade of the Seelie factions who tithed to Lord Oberon, Lord Morfryn’s twin brother.

Samhain was a night of solidarity. A temporary truce would be in force until after the ride—the reason Avalon’s mercenary forces were forbidden to take part.

Axel, happy to be free of the duke and his minions, swung himself into the saddle as Queen Morgan rode up on a fine-boned white mare. The stallion he was on tossed his head and pawed the ground as she approached. Feeling similarly riled by her presence, Axel gazed at Morgan with hatred in his heart. She was truly evil, and he sincerely hoped the rebels succeeded in dethroning her.

“You will ride with me, my knight,” she said. “To ensure you play no more tricks on your queen. Commander Cumberland’s scouts have failed in their hunt for your witch, but I will be ready for her, if she is foolish enough to interfere.”

Axel, heartsick, stared at the bumblebee pendant around her neck. How he would like to strangle her with it—or, better yet, with his bare hands. If she touched one hair on Jenna’s head, he would go berserk if he could, and tear her limb from limb.

His horse snorted and pawed the ground. He tightened his grip on the reins. Earthly night now cloaked the Thitherworld sky. The trumpet blew again—a bleating note as chilling as a death knell.

Gritting his teeth, Axel glanced behind him. The female faeries, as always, surrounded the drones. Now, he knew why. Would Jenna come? Would she be strong enough to stand up to Morgan and break his bonds? Or would this night be his last in this world?

He tamped down his rising despair, reminding himself that in death he might finally know freedom.

* * * *

A charge like an electrical current surged through Jenna as she peeked out from her hiding place behind the ash tree she and Axel had slept under on the night they became handfasted. From here, she had a good view of the well, the footpath, and the waterfall. They were coming. She couldn’t see them yet, but she could hear a building crescendo of jingling bells and clopping hoof beats.

Hundreds upon hundreds of them.

Jenna watched for the procession to appear, her fingers twisting the ring Axel had made for her. Her heart pulsed in her throat and pounded in her ears. Though she was scared to death, her hair and skin crackled with the energy of her newfound power.

It was cold in the glen, but she was nevertheless sweating under her green cloak, sweater, and jeans. In her pocket was a vial containing the holy water she’d taken from St. Peter and St. Boniface’s. She’d also brought along her bow and arrows, in case Morgan didn’t surrender her knight as easily as the faery queen in the stories.

When the first rider came around the bend, Jenna’s heart dropped into the pit of her stomach. He was a hideous creature with slimy grayish skin and a hooked nose. A goblin, she guessed, mounted on what looked to her like a huge wolf. Behind him, came a horde of similar creatures, also mounted on huge and ferocious-looking wolves.

She straightened her back, still turning her ring. Her courage could not fail her now. Not when she was this close and the stakes were so high. He was her handfasted husband and the father of her child. She could not stand by and let him be sacrificed to appease some awful faery overlord.

The next group to appear looked like elves. All in the party were tall and willowy with pointed ears and long, stick-straight white hair. Both sexes wore metallic tunics under velvet capes and carried gleaming silver swords with bejeweled hilts.

Would the faeries be third, as stated in the story of Tamlane? She waited, pulse pounding and breath bated, for the next assembly to come into view. Their bells reached her ears before she saw anyone. Then, two riders came around the bend. A man and woman on matching white horses. The woman, a stunning beauty with long black hair, was on the near side. Jenna’s breath caught when she saw the man was Axel.

He rode on the other side of the queen, probably by design. If Morgan suspected she might try to claim him, it would only make her mission harder.

Harder, but not impossible. She simply needed to create a distraction. With energy humming in her trembling fingers, Jenna grabbed an arrow from her quiver, which rested against the tree, and drew back her bowstring.

When Morgan came within range, Jenna took aim and released the arrow.

She missed the queen, but hit her horse’s haunches. The mare shrieked and reared up, dropping her rider in a heap on the ground before taking off like a shot into the woods.

It was now or never.

Jenna broke from her hiding place and tore toward Axel as fast as her legs would carry her. Sidestepping the queen, she ran up to his horse, grabbed hold of his tunic with both hands, and dragged him down from the saddle. Then, she dropped on him and held on for all she was worth.

Pandemonium erupted all around. Jenna, abuzz with power and adrenaline, did not let go. She heard the queen coming and saw her slippers as she stepped beside them. As Morgan made to grab her, Jenna thrust out her arm to block the attempt.

To her delight and astonishment, arcs of electricity shot from her fingertips. The white bolts struck the queen in the chest, sending her staggering backward.

“What manner of magic is this?” the queen asked when she’d regained her equilibrium.

As Jenna spread her fingers in a threatening manner, the air crackled around her hand. “Come any closer and you’ll find out.”

Morgan looked genuinely frightened, which pleased Jenna immensely. She couldn’t begin to guess how she’d come by this strange new power. She only knew she was thrilled it had manifested when she needed it most.

As added insurance, Jenna pulled out the holy water and splashed it around her and Axel, doing her best to create a circle.

The other faeries gathered around them, chanting in shrill voices, “She has tricked us. She has claimed the queen’s favorite. She has stolen the tithe.”

All the while, Axel lay beneath her, as silent as the grave. Concerned, Jenna looked down at him. His white tunic and the gold torque around his neck gleamed in the moonlight. His face, however, was hidden by his hair.

“Axel,” she whispered, “are you all right?”

His eyes caught the light. His beautiful Viking eyes. They were more fearsome than ever before, but still belonged to the man she loved. Somewhere nearby, the queen said something that sounded like
fee-faw
.

Looking, Jenna saw that Morgan held a wand which was pointed at Axel. Swallowing hard, she steeled her courage. This was it. Whatever he turned into, she had to hold on as if their lives depended on her not letting go.

Because they did.

The ozone-scented air buzzed with the energy of magic. Axel got wider and sprouted grizzled fur. A muzzle and sharp teeth pushed out of his face. He snarled and snapped and writhed beneath Jenna, but did not try to bite. She held on despite her fear. From the eyes of the wolf, the man she loved looked back at her.

“Fee-faw,” the queen said again.

All around them, the air hissed like electronic white noise. Axel grew thinner. His warm, plush fur turned into smooth, cool scales. His muzzle retracted and his black nose became two slits. His tongue flicked out, revealing the fork at the tip. She’d always been deathly afraid of snakes, but she still held on.

“Let him go.” Morgan’s face was purple with rage. “He is mine.
My
knight and
my
tithe.”

“He isn’t yours, he’s mine,” Jenna returned with passion. “My true love. But you wouldn’t know anything about love, would you, Morgan? Because you’re a heartless creature who only sees other people as toys for her amusement—not as separate beings with feelings of their own.”

The queen’s eyes grew black, like an insect’s or an alien’s. “And I’m the stronger for it.”

“You’re the poorer for it,” Jenna answered, voice quavering. “Because you’ll never know how it feels to love and be loved.”

“You’re wrong.” Morgan laughed. “All of my subjects love me.”

“What they feel for you isn’t love; it’s fear—the opposite of love.”

“You insolent little witch.” The queen’s black eyes radiated hatred. “I’ll show you which of us has the greater power.”

Jenna closed her eyes and held tight to her snake. The air grew hot and thick around them. She could hear the crackling, see the amber flicker of flames, and smell the suffocating smoke. Morgan had set the glen on fire. Or had she merely created the illusion of a fire? It was a gamble, but Jenna wasn’t budging. Even if the fire turned out to be real, she’d rather burn to death than allow Axel to be sacrificed.

“Fee-faw,” the queen cried once more. Her eyes grew fiercer as she said, to the serpent in Jenna’s arms, “Had I known how you would betray me, my knight, I would have made a meal of your organs.”

Jenna cringed at the viciousness of the threat while, underneath her, Axel began to morph. This time, he became a lion with huge paws and sharp teeth. Rather than recoil, she stroked his pelt and buried her face in his mane. He still smelled like apple blossoms.

“Don’t worry, baby,” she whispered. “I won’t let go.”

The lion licked her face with his big, rough tongue. She snuggled against him, her heart pounding with courage. She could do this. When he turned into iron or hot coals or a flaming glaive, she would throw him down the well and it would all be over. He’d be free and the faeries would go back into the Thitherworld.

They would still have to get away from the owls, of course, but her Mini was standing by in the glen’s carpark with a full tank of petrol. She’d take him to the crofter’s cottage while they figured out where to go next. Maybe the good faeries would give them refuge. Or those white-haired elves.

“Fee-faw!”

Sparks shot from the queen’s wand. The lion in Jenna’s arms began to grow at an alarming rate. His fur vanished and his skin grew hard and thick. He got so big, her feet left the ground. She clung to his neck for dear life.

What in the name of God was he turning into?

From his head, horns sprouted. His nose and mouth became a long, pointed snout. Huge bat-like wings burst from his shoulder blades.

Bloody hell in a hand basket.
Queen Morgan had transformed Axel into a dragon. She’d also overplayed her hand. Jenna swung onto his back and dug in her heels.

“Fly, Axel. Fly!”

Rather than take wing, the dragon said while spewing fire, “If I do as you say, I will not be free. We must wait until the cock crows, like we planned.”

Disappointment stung her heart like the lash of her father’s belt. He was right.
In her zeal, she’d forgotten she must wait until he became something hot to be cooled in the well. His bonds would not be broken until he was himself again and wrapped in her cloak.

Assuming, of course, the story she’d read was correct.

The woods all around them were still burning, and the trees were now wailing in pain. Jenna felt dizzy, sweaty, exhausted, and disoriented. It seemed as if she’d been at this for hours, but, if dawn was approaching, she couldn’t tell through the thick ceiling of black smoke covering the glen. Some of the plumes had formed into banshee-like spirits that were rushing at her, shrieking and cackling.

Though quaking with terror, Jenna only clung tighter to Axel’s dragon neck. She could not allow herself to be daunted by Queen Morgan’s tricks.

“Fee-faw.”

Axel shrank in size and sprouted bristles, a flat snout, and sharp tusks. He was a wild boar—a creature she’d always found incredibly fearsome. When she was a girl, a boar had killed one of her neighbors by inflicting a gruesome wound to his gut. She shuddered at the memory, but did not let go. In those tiny piggy eyes, she still saw her good-hearted knight looking back at her.