Son of No One (10 page)

The blood washed from her face. “What?”

“She's in another dimension, K.”

Karma cursed. “What do we do?”

Selena wasn't really sure. But they couldn't leave their cousin trapped in some mirror realm. “I don't know. You call Zeke and tell him to meet us here and I'll call Ash. Maybe one of them will know where she is and how to get her out.”

“I'm on it.” She entered the house, and started for the stairs until she realized Selena wasn't following her. Rather, she was standing just inside the mirrored doorway. “What are you doing?”

“Staying here in the dining room, in case she finds her way home.” Selena glanced about as an awful chill went down her spine. “I have a bad feeling about this.”

Karma nodded. “Me, too. There's something truly evil here. And honestly, I'm not sure we'll ever see our Jo-Jo again.”

 

6

“Well, well. Has someone awakened the dragon? Put a dagger through Morgen le Fey's blackened chest cavity? Surely some kind of unnatural event must have occurred for the son of Paimon, an infernal prince, to be standing so foolishly before me.”

His arms folded across his chest as he stood defiantly in front of the shadow king's throne, Cadegan arched a brow at Brenin Gwyn ap Nudd's sarcasm.

“I know naught of what you speak, me liege. There's no infernal prince here. I am simply Cadegan Maboddimun.”

A name that had been given to him on his birth by Father Bryce and recorded in the monastery's roll. A name that proclaimed to the world that he was Cadegan Son of No One—a bastard child, as motherless as he was fatherless.

But the shadow fey king gave him no reprieve. “So you say. Your father, however, has such a price upon your head that I can't imagine what madness has brought you to
my
door.”

“I have need of your services.”

The nebulous sharoc king passed an incredulous look to one of the sycophants who stood to his right. Shadowy and cold, light passed easily through sharoc bodies. Most were so transparent, they were virtually invisible and easily overlooked by the unwary or those ignorant of their existence.

These were the slimiest of the fey folk. Miscreants, with a foul cruel streak in them, most served Morgen directly as spies who hoped to curry her favor. In truth, he'd rather deal with an Adoni or grayling than Gwyn's people.

But desperation rode its victim with spurs. And the bastard had them dug deep into Cadegan's haunches this day.

“Hell has indeed frozen over.” Gwyn rose from his throne and floated down his dais until he hovered before Cadegan. Cocking his shadowy head, he narrowed his black eyes. “Name this service you seek, prince of perdition.”

Cadegan forced himself not to react to the insult, or to show any emotion whatsoever. “A dragon key to the world of man.”

“You wish to leave our pleasant company so soon?”

He'd hardly call a thousand years
soon
. But why quibble over a few centuries, one way or another. “What can I say, me liege? The constant sunshine here is blinding. Surely more than me weak eyes can take.”

Gwyn laughed. “You're a cheeky one. Especially since you're here to beg favor.…” He tsked. “A dragon key. Now that, indeed, requires a special payment.”

All dear things did. “Your price?”

Stroking his bearded chin, the king clicked his tongue in thought. “Before I name it, I must know why
now
.”

Cadegan remained completely stoic before him. “Why now, what?”

“Why would you, son of Paimon, seek release from our hallowed realm after all this time?”

“Does it matter?”

“If you want a key, it does. Especially since I know
you
can't use it.”

Damn him for that. Cadegan had hoped to keep that tidbit out of their negotiation.

His sycophant slithered up to the king to whisper in his ear. Gwyn listened quietly.

Laughing, he narrowed his gaze on Cadegan as the other sharoc slinked back to the shadows. “So it's a woman, then, is it?”

“I know naught what you speak.”

Gwyn laughed even harder. “Of course you don't. Ergo, you crave a key to open a doorway you can't use. I think you can see why your logic baffles me?”

Cadegan sighed in feigned resignation. “I'd hoped to avoid visiting my uncle and ingratiating myself to him.” For multitudinous reasons. “But as you leave me no choice…” He started to leave.

“Wait!”

He turned to look back at Gwyn. “Aye, me liege?”

“We don't have a key. Being shadowborn, we don't need them to pass in and out of the realms. And as you know, those who own them have a very nasty tendency to keep them well guarded, and to rip the wings and skin off anyone dumb enough to try and take them.”

“Then why are you wasting me time here?”

“Because I can make you one, but it will require you to gather certain things that will benefit us both.”

“Such as?”

“Short list, really. A dragon's claw. A stone from Emrys Merlin. The lion's heart. A bit of hair from the White Stag. Some of Arthur's blood … lastly, we'll need the blood and sweat of a waremerlin.”

That was one hell of a list. The only thing missing was a body part, rolling naked over flaming coals, and having a hot poker shoved into an uncomfortable exit-only orifice.

“Anything else?” Cadegan asked.

“To assemble the medallion? Nay. But there's still the payment to discuss.”

“I'm listening.”

“You and your woman's to stay here, in Castle Galar, while you gather the items and bring them to me. If you fail to return by fey vespers, with at least one item for the day, your woman spends the night with me … in my bed.”

He felt his temper break at the mere thought. “She's not a trophy to be bartered.”

“So, you admit to having a woman, eh? Fascinating.”

Cadegan cursed himself for the slip. He'd alerted the bastard to much more than just confirming Jo's presence in their realm. His enemy now knew Cadegan's weakness.

Lamb's bullocks, not one of his more intelligent moves.

Sadly, not one of his least intelligent, either.

And now that Gwyn knew, Cadegan had a much bigger concern. “How do I know she'll be unmolested whilst she's here?”

“Word upon my crown. If any touch her during the light hours, I'll cede my throne to you, and the bullocks of the offender.”

Cadegan snorted. “They touch her and I'll be taking more than just their bullocks. Aye, to the farm on that.” Still not sure if he should do this, he tried to think of a better way.

Honestly, there wasn't one. Gwyn was the least of the devils in this place, and the only one who could provide a key for Josette, without immense bloodshed.

“So what's it to be, demonspawn?” Gwyn asked.

“Is that all you'll be taking from me?”

“Aye and nay. When this is done and the key is proven to work, I'll be handing you over to your father for payment. And you won't fight me or mine on it. You'll go peacefully to his loving arms.”

For a full minute, Cadegan couldn't breathe at the severity of the price. Did Gwyn have any idea what he was asking?

“When next I see your face, dog, you'll learn well why every hellborn demon fears me! And you'll pay for every ounce of demon blood you've spilled in service to that bastard I should have drowned at birth. I will dine on your worthless entrails!”

It was a promise he knew his father would well deliver on. Cadegan's death wouldn't be easy and it wouldn't be soon. His father would take his time, making sure Cadegan regretted every breath that kept him alive.

What difference does it make
? Really? Compared to how he lived, it was just a change in scenery and wardrobe.

Keep lying to yourself, lad.

There's a
big
difference.
But as he saw an image in his mind of Josette asleep in his arms, and heard the memory of her laughter, he knew he was more than willing to see this done.

For her.

She was worth his wretched life.

Cadegan slid his gaze to the shadow that was watching them in silence. “Agreed.”

As he started to leave, Gwyn called out to him. “There's one more thing you should know.”

Cadegan cursed silently. He should have known it wouldn't be as easy as it sounded. “That is?”

“The autumnal equinox occurs in three days. After that, the key will be useless to her. She'll be trapped here, forever.”

A human in a land that preyed upon them, with predators who would tear each other apart to get to her. Never mind what they'd do to her.

Closing his eyes, he winced. There was no way to back out now.

He knew from experience that no one in Avalon would allow him entry or speak to him in any way.

Not even Varian duFey.

Because of the taint and stench of his father's blood, they refused to trust him.

He was the only chance Josette had. And Gwyn was the only possible exit available to them.

If he failed in this, he would make sure to kill her himself.

It would be the kindest thing he could do.

 

7

“So that's Castle Galar.” Jo repeated the name Cadegan had said to her earlier, wishing she could roll her
r
s the same effortless way he did. His medieval Welsh accent was the sexiest thing she'd ever heard. And she had a sneaking suspicion that he could give her an orgasm by simply whispering nonsense in her ear. She would kill to hear him in an actual conversation with it.

It had to be incredible.

As they neared the castle, she slowed, partly in admiration … partly in stark, cold terror. While it was beautiful, the entire castle floated in the air. That would be scary enough, but while it had a stone bridge leading to it, there were two rickety hanging wooden bridges at the beginning and end of the stone one. Was he serious? No one in their right mind would walk over that thing that swung so high above a ground she couldn't even see.

Eyes wide, she stared at the single tower that rose up high into the heavens, and the spiral staircase that wrapped around the outside of it, leading to a smaller tower that vaguely reminded her of the Statue of Liberty torch jutting out from its side. No doubt, that was where the castle's overlord made his chambers.

Yeah, it was fitting for this fey land of drab scariness.

“Galar. The name has a beautiful ring to it.”

Cadegan snorted at her words. “
Galar
means ‘sorrow,' love. And the place is aptly named.”

Oh …

“How screwed up is your language that something so pretty is a crappy thing, huh? You might as well be French. No matter what you say, it always sounds like a compliment.”

He frowned at her. “French? What is French?”

“You know … you get in your boat and journey across that large watery thing called the English Channel, and hit the big blob of land on the continent south of England? Them people what live there are the French.”

“Ah. Normans, Franks, and Gauls.” He wrinkled his nose at her. “For what it's worth, love, not fond of them either.”

“Is there anyone you do like?”

The humor faded from his eyes as they started across the drawbridge. He leaned down to whisper in her ear. “You.”

That simple statement sent a hot chill over her and it made her long to take a bite of him. But he'd warned her thoroughly to keep her emotions concealed.

Even so, she couldn't help teasing him. “For the record, Cade? I'm part French.”

He let out a light harrumph at that. “Then I reckon I like the Franks better than I thought.”

“I should hope you do.”

Once again, all humor fled his face as he jerked his head toward a shadow. Before she could ask about it, he manifested a ball of fire and threw it against the ancient stone wall.

The shadow yelped and scurried away.

Cadegan continued to toss fire at it until it was well out of their sight.

As they neared the portcullis, Jo was aghast at what he'd done for no apparent reason. “What was that action? Some kind of weird Fire Tourette syndrome?”

He gave her a pained expression of total confusion before he spoke. “It was a sharoc, spying on us. They're shadow fey. You have to keep up your guard. They're very treacherous beasties.”

“Ah. Hence the fire enema. Got it.”

“Fire enema?”

She patted him gently on the cheek as he knocked on the gate. “Flames exploding on the rear of your trousers.”

Before he could answer, the doors disintegrated to show a huge gray man with black eyes and gray flesh. He raked an unflattering look up and down Cadegan before using a more curious one with her. “Well, aren't you prompt?”

Jo drew up short as a man lifted himself off the wall in front of them.

By the sudden rigidity of Cadegan's body, she knew this was more foe than friend.

“No time to waste.” Cadegan put himself between them. “Josette, meet Brenin Gwyn ap Nudd.”

Now it was her turn to be baffled. “Which name does he go by?”

His gaze unwavering from the newcomer, Cadegan kept his hand on her arm. “Forgive me.
Brenin
means king. His name is Gwyn, son of Nudd. But for safety's sake, just refer to him as Your Majesty. And avoid him whenever you can.”

The king tsked at him. “Still cheeky.”

“And you're still annoying me, me liege.”

Stepping back, the king made room for another shadowed male to join them. “Gage will show you to your new rooms.” He narrowed his gaze on Cadegan. “And the sands are falling quick for you, boy. We begin today. You've not much time to vespers. Shouldn't you be about it?”

“I hate you,” Cadegan snarled.

The king turned an evil, sinister grin to Jo. “You'll hate me even more if you miss your deadline. Oh, and I might ought to have said this to you earlier. But there's a specific order to how the items must be acquired. You needs steal the dragon's claw first.”