[Merry Gentry 04] - A Stroke of Midnight (40 page)

Blood is one of the most precious fluids. It is life itself, and can be a great gift when shared, but this had not been a sharing. This had been a taking, a rape of everything that he had been.

I dug my nails into Rhys's body to keep from gagging. I dared not show that much displeasure. I fought to breathe, fought to swallow, fought not to throw up on the Queen of Air and Darkness.

She fell back from the kiss with her eyes sparkling, her face rapturous. “Oh, you didn't like that at all, did you?”

I took deep, even breaths. I would not throw up. I simply would not. I had no idea what she would do if I did, and Gwennin at her feet reminded me what she was capable of. I had the very taste of him in my mouth to remind me. I fought not to dwell upon that taste. I mastered my breathing and my stomach, but knew that it had shown on my face. Nothing I could do about it.

She laughed, a sharp, fierce, happy sound like the cry of a hawk. “I think, before I give my throne away, that I will have to demand one night with you, Meredith. You are entirely too human, too Seelie. You would not like what I would do to you.”

“If I would like it, you wouldn't see the point in doing it,” I said, more anger than fear in my voice. I could not stop it.

She shook her head, almost sadly. “There you go again, Meredith. Your words are fine, but your tone says fuck you and the horse you rode in on.”

I looked at her, and for once I did not try to hide. She liked that I hated her. She would enjoy forcing me into her bed, in part because I hated her, and she hated me.

“Say what you're thinking, Meredith. Tell your auntie dearest the words that will match those angry Seelie eyes.” She purred at me, a voice that was anger, seduction, and the promise of pain all rolled into one.

Rhys tightened his arms around me, his body tensing. I said, “We hate each other, auntie dearest, we always have.”

“And the fact that I would force you into my bed, how does that make you feel?”

“That I would rather be queen sooner than later.”

There were gasps. Andais laughed. “Are you threatening me?”

“No. When I held Galen's dying body in my arms, I thought it was too dear a price to be queen of any court. I still think it, but thank you, auntie dearest, for reminding me that I will be queen, or I will die.”

“Coming to my bed is not death, Meredith.”

“Some deaths, auntie dearest, are of the soul rather than the body.”

“Are you saying that if I force you it will kill your soul?” She laughed again.

“I am saying that it will kill something inside me, and you will enjoy its death.”

“Yes,” she said, “I will.”

I smelled roses then, a soft, gentle perfume.

Andais looked around her. “What is that smell?”

“Flowers,” I said.

“There are no flowers here.”

I looked into her gore-soaked face. “There will be.” Those three simple words held a promise of weight and power.

“Roses are fragile things, Meredith. They do not grow outside of walls without the skill of gardeners.”

“The wild rose needs no walls to protect it,” Doyle said.

She turned and looked at him. “What are you babbling about, Darkness?”

“Can you not smell it, Queen Andais? It is the scent of the meadow rose, the bramble rose, and it needs no walls to protect it, nor gardener to tend it. In fact, it is almost impossible to dig out or destroy once it takes root.”

“I did not know you had such an interest in gardening, Darkness.”

“This is a rose that makes its own garden wherever it happens to grow.”

She stared at him, studying his impassive face, as if she saw something there that I could not read. “Do not fall too far in love with the rose, Darkness, for it has thorns.”

“Yes,” he said, “we must all beware the thorns when we seek to pick the rose.”

“And will you prick me with your thorn, Darkness?”

“What good is a thorn to the rose, if it does not draw blood.”

“Is that a threat?” she asked.

“What if that piece of her soul that you steal away is the piece that calls to the sithen? What if the piece of her happiness that you destroy is the very piece the Goddess calls to? Would you destroy all that has been awakened for a dark whim?”

“I am queen here, Darkness.”

“And your brother Essus loved you well,” he said.

That seemed odd even to me, and the queen frowned. “Why do you speak of my brother?”

“Why was Essus not king?” he asked in that empty voice.

She frowned at him. “He refused the throne.”

“Not true,” he said.

She licked her lips. “He would not kill me to get the throne.”

“Essus loved you too well,” Doyle said.

She turned back to me. “And his daughter does not love me at all. Is that what you mean, Darkness?”

“Meredith, daughter of Essus, does not love you, Andais, Queen of Air and Darkness.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “You are threatening me.”

“I am saying that those who would have seen Essus on your throne were stopped by his love of you, and now there is no love to stand between you and harm.”

I wished that I could have read her face better, but the blood masked much of it. “I thought you served me out of duty, Darkness.”

“No, my queen, not out of duty.”

“But you do not love me now, Darkness.”

“No,” he said, “you killed that part of me long ago.”

“And if I say Meredith will never have my throne, never be queen, what say you to that?”

“Then we will go, all of us who wish to, and we will take exile in the lands to the west.”

“You cannot mean that.”

“I mean everything I say, Andais, Queen of Air and Darkness. I have always meant everything I have ever said to you.” And a soft sound escaped him. It was a sob, and a tear glittered down his cheek.

“I did not . . .” She stopped and tried again. “I did not know.”

“You did not see me,” he said, and his voice was steady now.

“But you were always by my side.”

“But you did not see me.”

“Does she see you, Darkness? Does she really see you?”

He nodded. “Yes, she sees me. She sees us all.”

They stared at each other for a space of heartbeats, and it was she who turned away first. “Go, and take your rose and her new thorns with you. All of you, go.”

She did not have to ask us twice. Rhys started carrying me toward the far door. I was pretty sure I could have walked, but being carried in his arms sounded just about right. I wrapped my arms around his neck, and gazed back over his broad shoulder at my aunt.

The people who had been with her were still hesitating, waiting, unsure if they'd had their orders. She screamed at them, “Go, go! All of you, go!” They went, hurrying off. Even Gwennin tried to crawl away from her. She put a foot on the long thick strings of his intestines, and her voice came in an evil whine, “Not you, Gwennin, not you.”

We made the far doors, were through them, and had them closing behind us as the first ragged scream cut the air. If I could have taken him with us, I would have. For I would not have left anyone to the queen's mercy.

Doyle suddenly shoved me behind him. I heard it a second later: running. A group of people running this way. Adair and Amatheon had no weapons to draw, so they gave me their bodies as living shields. I could not see around all the broad backs and drawn weapons. I had to wait, surrounded by men whom I no longer wished to put between me and danger. I needed guards that I didn't like quite so much. I heard Galen's voice, “Where's Merry?” Amatheon and Adair almost slumped with relief on either side of me. I fought the urge to laugh, or cry, or just push everyone away so I could see. But we all waited for Doyle to tell us to move, or not.

The men farther from us parted like a curtain, and only then did Amatheon and Adair move to frame me instead of shield me. Galen and everyone that we had left in the room were in the hallway, coming toward us. Doyle was assuring them that I was fine.

Galen pushed his way through the other men and paused before hugging me. He laughed. “What have you guys been doing, playing in the mud?”

The three of us exchanged glances. “We were playing in the mud,” Adair said. “Amatheon was the mud.”

Galen frowned at him.

“Later,” I said. I had noticed a newly healed face among the guard: Onilwyn. “When did he join you?”

Galen seemed to understand who I meant. “We were running out to find you when he showed up.”

“Why didn't you tell us what was happening?” Ivi asked. “We'd have grabbed on before Merry left so abruptly.”

“There was no time,” Doyle said.

“We barely touched them in time ourselves,” Frost said.

Rhys asked, “How did you know where we were?”

Kitto came out from behind the taller men. He had a short sword naked in his hand. He held up his arm with the moth tattoo on it. “I followed this.”

“And we followed Kitto,” Galen said, hugging me against his body, spreading the mud on more of himself.

“May I approach, Princess?” Onilwyn said.

I looked at his face and tried to see arrogance, or hatred, but he was trying for neutral and succeeding. “All right, yes.”

The other men made a sort of impromptu corridor for him to walk down. Galen kept one arm around me, so that I was tight to his side. Amatheon and Adair took up posts on either side of me; even unarmed and muddy they looked like the guards they were. Once I'd thought Amatheon and Onilwyn were friends, but the message was clear from all the men. They were my guards, and they weren't entirely certain Onilwyn was one of them.

He dropped to his knees in front of me. “I have heard such rumors, Princess Meredith. If even half are true, then I can only beg forgiveness and offer myself to your service.”

“And what of Prince Cel?” I asked. “What will you do when he is free once more and demands your loyalty back?”

“My oath was to the queen, never to him.”

“You gave him your friendship, Onilwyn.”

“Prince Cel has no friends, only toadies and bed partners.”

I stared into his face, tried to read a lie there, but found none. “I don't trust this change of heart, Onilwyn.”

“Tell me what I must do to prove that I am sincere?”

I thought, and nothing came to mind. A high, mournful scream came from behind the doors at our backs. The men who hadn't known of Gwennin's fate jumped or looked toward the door. Onilwyn paled. “Who is that?” he whispered.

I told him.

“Gwennin was her ally.”

“No longer,” Doyle said. “Now he is only meat.”

Onilwyn looked at the floor, and when he raised his face back up, there was something in his eyes. Something close to pain. “Cel spoke of the day he could take his mother's place. He means to take her place in every sense of the word, Princess. He craves to have the ladies of the court as his playthings. His fantasies are darker than you can imagine, Princess Meredith. He dreams of you, Princess. He says, if his mother would have you pregnant, then it will be his seed that fills your belly.” He said that last in a voice hoarse with dread, perhaps worried how I would take the news.

“I know of my cousin's plans for me,” I said.

Onilwyn looked surprised. “Who . . .”

“A friend,” I said. I answered before Doyle could finish shaking his head, telling me not to reveal that Cel's own guard had betrayed him. I did not trust this new, more sincere Onilwyn any more than he did.

“I would be your friend, Princess.”

“You just want sex,” Galen said, and he sounded a little hostile about it.

“Yes, as all of us do, but I offer true loyalty to her now.”

“What did you offer to her before?” Amatheon asked.

“I was Cel's spy, as you were.”

“I supported his claim to the throne. I did not spy for him.”

Onilwyn shrugged. “Have it your way, but I came for the promise of sex, and to be Cel's eyes and ears.”

“And now?” I asked.

“I am whatever you need me to be.”

“You should hit him in the face with frying pans more often,” Rhys said, “he seems to like it.”

Another shriek cut the air. Followed by a helpless sobbing.

“Let us be away from here,” Doyle said, “before she tires of her new toy and seeks another.”

We all began to follow him down the hallway. Onilwyn stayed on his knees, so that we left him alone like that, kneeling before doors. I wondered what the queen would do if she came out and found him like that. Something horrible, no doubt.

He watched me with a lost look on his face. It was as if he was someone else inside Onilwyn's skin.

“Come, Onilwyn, I would not leave you like a present before the doors.”

He gave a small smile and got to his feet, hurrying to catch us up. I did not like his change of heart. It was too abrupt. Or, perhaps, he was simply the perfect toadie, and like all good bootlickers, he was following the power. If he had changed sides, it was because he thought it would gain him power at court. It was why all toadies toadied. How many others would Cel lose to me in the next few weeks? And how many would wait, neutral, to see who was left standing at the end?

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Laurell K. Hamilton is the
New York Times
bestselling author of the Meredith Gentry novels,
A Kiss of Shadows,
A Caress of Twilight
, and
Seduced by Moonlight,
as well as twelve acclaimed Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter, novels. She lives in St. Louis, Missouri.

Visit her official Web site at
www.laurellkhamilton.org
.

By Laurell K. Hamilton

Published by The Random House Publishing Group:

A KISS OF SHADOWS

A CARESS OF TWILIGHT

SEDUCED BY MOONLIGHT