Siren's Song: The Gray Court, Book 5 (8 page)

“Which one?”

“The fanged one. And I don’t want to know what else he showed you. I don’t want anything to taint your healing, not even me.”

It was frustrating, but he could understand her point. “I don’t like it.”

“I am aware of that.”

“I’d much rather you just told me what’s wrong.”

She sighed. “Believe me, I’d rather do that too. I’d rather you weren’t in this position at all, but you are.” She brushed her bangs off her forehead. “Please. Be patient. I’ll do whatever I have to in order to give you back what you’ve lost.”

“At what cost?”

When she got out of the car without answering he wanted to grab her and stop her from whatever it was she was planning. Something told him the cost wouldn’t be to him.

And it might be far higher than he’d ever ask her to pay.

Chapter Seven

“Relax. This won’t hurt a bit.”

Cassie winced at the cold glance Oberon sent her before he settled on the bed. “Do your worst.”

Damn it. He was still upset that she wouldn’t give him the answers he wanted, but she’d told him the truth. She didn’t want to influence him too deeply. It was bad enough she could feel the urge to bond with him, to claim him in the way of her people. She didn’t even know if the High King felt the same pull she did, but she remembered the way he’d looked at her when she’d offered to heal one of his Blades. It had only been a couple of weeks ago. She doubted once his memories returned he’d feel any differently than he had then. He’d made it clear her presence was unwanted.

Once he remembered, it would be over. The man who’d shoveled trail mix into his mouth would turn once more into the cool, composed King who’d turned his back on her without a second glance.

But that didn’t matter. None of it did. All that mattered to Cassie was making sure her bondmate was fully restored, no matter what it would cost her.

Cassie began to hum, gradually aligning her voice with Oberon’s harmonies as she began to sing.

She could see the dark threads of discord winding around his harmonies, but they seemed looser already, quieter, especially where his earliest memories resided. One harmony in particular seemed to be freeing itself somehow, the wild notes dancing and twining through most of Oberon’s life.

That harmony must be Robin Goodfellow, the madcap Hob who most thought was Oberon’s secret son. Cassie wasn’t so sure. There was nothing in Oberon’s song to indicate a child had been born to him. Robin’s harmony appeared fully fleshed out from beginning to end, as if he sprang into Oberon’s life fully formed, a being of raw power made flesh.

So she followed that thread, untangled it from the discordant notes, set it free to run wild through Oberon’s melody.

His body jolted hard, but Cassie kept singing, kept tugging harmonies free of the dark threads. She wasn’t able to eliminate those threads and, left unsung, they would continue to wrap around his harmonies. If they were separated, they would still muffle and eventually replace his harmonies.

Shane was right. She needed to get him to the ocean, where her powers were strongest. She’d give him breath, and sink below the waves with him.

She just prayed they wouldn’t get caught by Pacifica.

Healing Oberon was turning out to be almost as difficult as dealing with Shane’s illness had been. Then, Shane’s blood had been infested with a black, ooze-like parasite that was torturing his mind and raping his gift of sight. Only the death of the one controlling the poison had caused the parasite to die.

Thank the gods this poison was not like that other one. Akane had known who’d poisoned her bondmate and, together with Jaden and Robin Goodfellow, put an end to it. If that had been the situation, if it had been another child of the Hob’s who’d done this to Oberon, Cassie wasn’t sure what the cure would have been.

She had no idea where to even begin looking for someone like that. It was bad enough they had a traitor in the Gray Court. Having it turn out to be a child of Robin’s would have been devastating to both men.

No, this poison, this spell, was different from what had been done to Shane, and she could only be grateful for that. She would be able to heal the High King, she was certain of it. But she would need the power of her native element in order to do it.

She allowed the song to wind down, humming the last bars as she disengaged from Oberon’s harmonies. “How do you feel?”

He stared at her, his expression troubled. “I remember him.”

“Robin?”

He nodded. “We’re family.”

“A brother?” That would explain what she sensed about Robin’s thread in Oberon’s life.

“In a way, I suppose.” Oberon smiled, the expression full of fondness. “Gods, we were so young then.”

“You and Robin.”

“All of us. The Tuatha Dè Danaan still existed then, and I was but one of many under the rule of Nuada Airgetlám, the Silver Hand.” He grimaced. “The king had sensed something in the wind, something he feared greatly. So he sent me to investigate.”

“And you found Robin.”

He chuckled. “What I found was a mass of nothing. At first I couldn’t understand what my king feared so, that he would send me to investigate what appeared to be air. But there was purpose behind the swirling mass, an intelligence I’d never before faced. So I began to speak to it, calling it to me, curious in that way only the young and foolish can truly be.”

She was fascinated by this glimpse into Oberon’s past. “What did Robin do?”

“He danced around me, pulling me into his core. His curiosity got the better of him, and we got the measure of each other. Before long, I could sense his curiosity growing, but without form he couldn’t communicate with me.”

“He was a sylph?”

“He is bound to earth, not sky, as I learned later. But then, all I was aware of was the overwhelming desire to speak to him, to learn about him. He was quick, my Hob, and soon took form, gave himself a voice.” Oberon actually chuckled. “He told me later that he modeled his look somewhat on mine, but that he wanted more color than I had. The Robin you’ve met looks much like he did that first day. It’s his favorite form, his original human look. Only the clothes really change.”

She could see that somewhat. Robin was smaller than Oberon, more slender, a dancing flame to the column of pure shining silver that was the High King. “What did you do once he was human?” Cassie settled in the chair by the window. She was tired, but the last thing she wanted to do was stop Oberon from talking. He was opening up a little, letting her into his life.

It was a start, one she’d take gladly.

“At first, nothing.” Oberon tsk’d. “The rogue’s first act was to stare at his hands and laugh.” The smile widened, surprising her. “He asked me to name him.”

“And you called him Rob?”

He shook his head. “I don’t really remember that first name I gave him, but he didn’t like it at all. Soon he named himself, calling himself Puca, then Puck, and finally Robin Goodfellow. When the hobgoblins swore fealty to him, he took Hob as his title in their honor.”

“How did the king react to meeting him?” Nuada Airgetlám was not known for his gentleness. If he’d sent Oberon because he sensed Robin was a threat, she was surprised the Hob still existed.

“He was wary at first, but Robin won him over with his clever tongue and curious ways. He was something we’d never seen before, nor have we seen since.”

“Robin really is one of a kind then.”

“He truly is. Robin learned the court inside and out, but never quite gave Nuada his allegiance. He reserved that for me.”

“I’m surprised King Nuada allowed that.” Robin was, indeed, a force of nature. How Nuada had allowed such a man to exist outside his court, yet part of it, baffled her.

“By then he had far more problems on his hands than Robin. He’d tried to take part of Ireland for us after we were driven from our home, but in doing so he lost his arm in battle to Sreng, the Fir Bolg’s champion. By Tuatha Dè law, he could no longer be king. Bres the Fomorian somehow became king instead, and seven years of hell for the Tuatha Dè ensued. Nuada took his throne back by having a silver arm forged for himself, making him whole again, but he only ruled for twenty more years before Bres was trying to take the throne back. Nuada stepped aside in favor of Lugh, who ruled for forty years before being killed himself over an affair one of his wives had with a son of The Dagda. The Dagda became king for eighty years before he was killed by the seeress Cethlenn.”

“I thought you became king after Nuada. So the old Irish folktales are true?”

“Somewhat, yes. By then, many of us believed Nuada had died. He had disappeared, and none of us left could sense him. Many believed he was killed in battle with Balor, beheaded, and that Lugh avenged him by killing Balor. But Nuada’s head was never found, and the silver arm was gone.”

“You think he left on his own.”

Oberon nodded somberly. “He was tired, Cassie, so tired of all the fighting, of trying to save a dying race. I could see it in him, and chose to believe he really did die that day rather than look for him. But sometimes I wonder if he’s still out there somewhere, hiding in the quiet places of the world, still healing from the loss of our people.” He sighed wearily. “We killed each other so easily back then. None of us truly understood the consequences of our wars. The Dagda died at the hands of Cethlenn. His son ruled until he was killed by his own child. The last Tuatha Dè kings were Mac Cuill, Mac Cecht and Mac Gréine, who ruled over Ireland until they, too, died, and the last of us were kicked out by the Milesians, our blood diluting into what we once called the lesser fae until the Sidhe were born of our mingled blood, becoming the lords we’d once been.”

She was inclined to believe Nuada was dead. Not a hint of the man had ever been found. “How did you become king?”

“Between the wars and the interbreeding, we managed to all but obliterate our own race. When we realized we were dying out, the last of us chose me, the strongest left alive, to rule over them. Soon after that…” His expression closed off once more.

“Titannia.”

He grimaced at that name. “Indeed, and the end of the Tuatha Dè. Her greatest betrayal was against my people. But at first she was accepted. A pretty fairy woman, a stable relationship, a truebond for their king…what more could they ask for? We would be faithful to one another, be strong rulers over what was left of our kingdom, and rebuild the fae world without the Tuatha Dè Danaan.” He sighed. “But it didn’t quite work out that way.”

“No, it didn’t.” Instead Titannia had almost broken the fae apart. “Do you regret it?”

“Which part?” His tone was absent, his gaze fixed on something she could only guess at.

“Any of it.”

He looked at her, really looked, for the first time since she started singing. “Yes.”

She wanted to bring the smile back to his face. “But not Robin.”

There it was, that quiet smile she’d been looking for. “Never Robin. He’s the brother of my soul.” She was stunned when his smile deepened, was turned on her. “Thank you for giving him back to me.”

She returned his smile tenfold. “You’re welcome.”

“This is it. This is the place Jaden suggested. The Sea Crest Bed and Breakfast.” Oberon stared at the large Cape Cod home on the edge of the beach. “It’s certainly off the beaten path.”

“I think that was the point. We’re not far outside Lincoln Beach, granting us some privacy, but with the Oregon Coast Highway right there we can make a quick run for California if we need to.”

She was tense, the fear back on her face. The need to protect her rose in him once more. Cassie should fear nothing, not while he was there. “I won’t let anyone take you.”

Cassie started, shooting him an unreadable look. “Take care of yourself first, sire.”

“It would help if I understood the nature of the threat.” And he didn’t mean the one against him. That Cassie was afraid of anything was driving him insane.

She made a thoroughly disgusted noise. “Will you trust me, just a little? Please? I swear to you, once your memories return you’ll know exactly who is after me.”

“And then we deal with it.”

She grimaced. “Perhaps.”

He grabbed hold of her arm, stopping her when she would have gotten out of the car. “You promised you would never lie to me.”

“And I haven’t.” She stared at him, never once breaking eye contact. “I don’t know how you’ll react when you remember, but going by your actions before, I think you’ll leave.”

He blinked, stunned, and released her arm. “You think I’ll leave you to your fate.”

She nodded and climbed out of the car.

Oberon cursed under his breath and climbed out of the car after her. “I won’t do that.”

“You say that now, but…” She sighed, staring out at the ocean before she turned back to him with a heartbreaking smile. “Let’s wait and see what happens.”

He wanted to growl as he helped her pull their suitcases from the trunk. “Stubborn woman.”

“Stubborn man.” She slammed the trunk shut and headed for the stairs leading up to the well-lit doors.

Oberon followed her up the steps, looking around at their new surroundings to get his bearings. It was just coming on to evening, the setting sun turning the sky stunning shades of blues and pinks. The Sea Crest Inn Bed and Breakfast was a cheery yellow home with bright white trim and a red front door with brass accents. Three stories tall, it had a turret with huge windows facing the sea.

Cassie led the way into the house. Before she could reach the front desk, a cheerful older man greeted them. “Good evening, and welcome to the Sea Crest Inn. I’m Greg, and I work the front desk.”

“Cassie Nerice. We should have a reservation.”

Greg nodded and led the way to the front desk. He typed up something on the computer. “You’ll be here for a week?”

Cassie didn’t bat an eye. “Yes.”

“All right. And I see your room is already paid for.” He smiled at them. “You’ll be staying in our honeymoon suite. It’s on the third floor, with a beautiful view of the ocean.”

Oberon blinked. Honeymoon suite?

“The suites are marked with a plaque on each door, so you shouldn’t have any trouble finding it.” Greg gestured toward their suitcases. “Do you need help with your luggage?”

“No, I believe we can manage.” Oberon didn’t want the man following them, not when Cassie looked ready to burst. He was certain Jaden had set this up. Was the vampire aware of the simmering desire Oberon felt for the siren? Had he hoped that the two would consummate their attraction during this trip?

“All right then. Breakfast is served between seven and ten in the morning. Lunch and dinner you’re on your own, but we have a list of local places we believe you’ll enjoy.” Greg pointed to the rack of brochures on the counter. “We have tours you can sign up for, and direct access to the beach off of the inn’s main deck just out back. You’ll have a beautiful view of the Pacific from your room, as you’re in the back of the inn.” Greg handed them each a key card. “We hope you enjoy your stay with us, Mr. and Mrs. Nerice.”