The Outcast Prince (23 page)

Lydia kept hold of the phone, her back to the counter. Beside her the tap ran on. Shea got up and paced, but he held his distance. She expected him to lunge for her at any moment, but the running water seemed to keep him at bay. In her bra she could feel the iron nail pressing into her skin. Dylis had been quite specific about what would work. Compared to the hat stand it seemed so small and yet when she looked at Shea she saw the damage iron could do. She knew exactly how to use the nail. Would she be able to get it out in time?

Shea stopped and stared at her, his eyes cold and dead. “Make me tea.”

She bit the inside of her lip to keep from saying anything. She wasn’t doing anything that he asked. Obeying a Grey was dangerous.

“You think you can stop me? You’re nothing. A soul to steal, bait, or bribe. Your lover is already in trouble. Lost his soul for dealing to me.”

Years of practice was all that kept her from looking shocked. No soul, how was that possible? But she remembered the way he’d acted when he’d first come back, the way he’d stopped when he’d found the nail in her bra and the hesitation to shower, the look in his eye and the way he’d avoided talking while still trying to hold onto her. If he had no soul, what did that make him?

The answer was right in front of her. She swallowed. Caspian was a Grey.

Shea paced closer, his gaze flicking between her and the water. Dylis had said afraid of water, not that it would hurt a fairy. She needed the iron nail in her hand. But she couldn’t get it out while he watched.

“Used you to get to the Window.” Shea grinned. “Your little friend who lived here followed you home, saw you holding a mirror.” He rested one hand on the back of a chair. He was far too close for comfort now. “I’m willing to gamble it’s the Window—and so was your friend.”

The compact in her handbag.
Don’t look at your handbag. Keep looking at Shea. I’m going to have nightmares.
“That old thing? That’s just my grandmother’s makeup mirror.”

How long had Caspian known? The whole time he’d been here? Or just since he’d come back with the mirror around his neck?

“Where is it?”

“At home, with the rest of the things I took from here.” Her heart was bouncing around and making breathing hard. Could he tell she was lying?

His eyes narrowed. “Don’t you want to save your lover?”

“Yes.” But if Caspian had lost his soul in Annwyn then it made sense that the only way to get it back would be to give the mirror to his father, not Shea.

“Then give it to me.”

“It’s at home,” she said really slowly. “Want to take a drive?” She didn’t want to be in a car with him, but if it kept him away from her handbag for a little longer she’d do it.

“You agree to fetch me the Window?”

She opened her mouth then realized that he was trying to get her talking to trip her into a deal. She shut her mouth and bit her tongue for good measure. Why hadn’t Caspian told her all of this?

Because she’d have freaked out because he was a Grey. She’d slept with him while he was missing a soul. Her thoughts swirled around like papers in a breeze.
Take
a
breath
and
think.

He was still Caspian, and he still needed the Window. That she had it made things simpler. Except Shea knew she had it too. He took a step closer. She flicked some water at him. This time he winced but didn’t step back.

Shit.
She’d seen Caspian shower last night, so maybe a fairy’s fear of water wasn’t that great unless it was a river or an ocean.

“I wonder what he’d do to save you.” He tilted his head and flexed his fingers.

Her phone beeped as a message arrived, but she was almost too scared take her eyes off Shea and look. How far could she run? How many invisible fairies were in the house waiting to grab her or trip her up?

The front door opened and Shea turned. She used that moment to slide the nail out of her bra and into her hand.

Caspian appeared in the doorway. His lips tightened, but that was the only sign of distress. Was he even worried about her or just the damn Window?

“You broke the deal. Your thugs attacked my shop. You came here and invaded her house.” Caspian looked at Shea.

“You broke it first. Have you bothered to check a single mirror I left at your house? No, you were too busy at Court meeting your father and losing your soul. I propose a trade. I keep your lover until you get me the Window.”

“That wasn’t the deal.”

“We make a new one, banished to banished. We can both get what we want.” Shea took a couple of steps and grabbed her arm, dragging her away from the water.

“Let go.” She smacked him in the face with her phone as she tried to get the nail into her fingers ready to use.

He tightened his grip. “A fear of water is one thing, but it is not enough to stop me from getting what I want and getting home. I need the Window and I will have it.”

Caspian stepped forward, then stopped as if unable to move. Shea’s face hollowed, his features becoming more drawn and haggard as if was wasting before her eyes. He was using magic. On Caspian.

“Use magic to fight me, darkling,” Shea sneered.

“I’m not a darkling. My father is Court.” Caspian forced the words out, his gaze on Shea, not her.

“Fight to free yourself. Let’s see how fast you wither.” Shea’s grip on her arm eased a fraction as if he was weakening.

Caspian seemed to be fighting for every breath. She almost dropped the nail as she turned it, then it was ready. She said a quick prayer and then drove it into Shea’s thigh.

The scream was like that of a wounded, enraged animal. Shea released her and she moved—but not to Caspian’s side. She went to the other doorway, the one that led to the formal dining room. Without iron or water she had nothing but speed and distance. But she couldn’t bring herself to leave. Plus her handbag was still on the kitchen counter.
That
was
dumb.
But neither Grey knew what was in there wrapped up safe with iron.

Shea reared up and snarled, dark blue… blood, she realized… dripped onto the floor. He stepped toward her, but Caspian pulled the necklace out of his shirt. Shea stopped to watch.

“One more step and I destroy the Window.” Caspian lifted the chain over his head.

“Don’t give it to him,” Lydia whispered. Caspian needed his soul back, didn’t he? Or did he no longer care? Was he on Shea’s side now because he was a Grey? It was all too confusing.

Shea stared at the shard of mirror. “You’re lying. She has it.”

Caspian shook his head. “I went to Court and saw where it was hidden. Here amongst the jewelry. Clever.” That wasn’t right; he’d said it was to help him find the Window. Had he lied about that too? Then she realized she was watching him trick another fairy. He was playing the Grey at his own game.

“Prove it’s the Window,” Shea demanded.

“Prove it’s not.” Caspian shrugged, and his face remained expressionless. “What are you prepared to risk, Shea ap Greely?” He set the mirror swinging, and the chain moved closer to the ends of his fingers, millimeter by millimeter.

Lydia watched as Caspian prepared to break the mirror. What was he risking by doing that?

Caspian took a step closer and smiled, but there was nothing remotely human about it. Lydia shuddered. She’d been to bed with him like this. Soulless and hard, and yet at the time he’d seemed more lost than anything.

“I didn’t break the deal. The only way I could be free of you was to find the Window. Which I have done. Annwyn took my soul for dealing with you, but you will not take what is left of my life.” He inclined his head at Lydia.

“So if you found it why haven’t you given it to your father and begged for your soul?”

“I was on my way; there is a doorway at the cemetery. But Lydia rang to tell me you were visiting and I couldn’t leave her here with you. I know how a Grey will do anything to get home.” The mirror slid a little further down his fingers and Shea drew in a sharp breath.

Shea seemed frozen, as if he didn’t know whether to rush for her or Caspian. His gaze darted between her and her lover. She couldn’t move and didn’t dare say anything in case she damaged whatever Caspian was trying to do.

“Let’s make this more fun. How about I call my father?” Before Shea could answer he drew a breath. “Let it be known I have found the Window. The deal is complete.”

Caspian didn’t raise his voice but his words echoed with power. She felt in her blood something ancient and powerful stirring—the same way she’d felt his invitation to bed last night. He really wasn’t anything close to human at the moment and yet she couldn’t take her eyes off him as the silver chain slid down his fingers. To his fingertips. She held her breath.

Then the mirror began to fall.

Shea leaped for the mirror, his belly hitting the floor, his hand outstretched as he muttered some kind of incantation.

“I never promised it would be whole,” Caspian said.

Caspian jumped to the side as Shea landed on his stomach on the floor, stretched out his hand, and then vanished in a flash of light into the mirror just as Caspian had expected him to. It had been a gamble but the only one he’d been able to make and now the Counter-Window was in three pieces on the kitchen floor. For several heartbeats he waited for Shea to reappear through the Window that was somewhere in this house—hopefully. He didn’t want to have claimed to have completed the deal when in actual fact the Window was still lost and he’d broken the Counter-Window.

When there was no enraged snarl, no cursing, and no sign of the banished fairy lord, he let himself breathe for a moment even though he didn’t have long to find the Window before his father showed up and demanded he hand it over. Lying didn’t go down well at Court; lying by omission or letting people assume was another matter.

He walked over to Lydia. “Are you okay?”

She shrunk back against the door frame as if his touch was poison and her eyes were full of suspicion and fear. “What are you?”

He had to be honest. Shea had already spilled the truth and lying would only make it worse. “You know what I am. My father took my soul in exchange for the Window.”

Her lips moved but no sound came out. But she didn’t need to speak; he could see the distrust in her eyes. “You’re a Grey, like him.”

“It’s temporary, if I return the Window.” But it was also clear he couldn’t protect her from his family or fairies in general. Maybe a life in Annwyn was the only chance he had. While he missed the beauty, that was all he missed. Beneath the dancing and partying there was an edge. A razor constantly held to throats just waiting for an opportunity to slice. When he looked at Lydia, he didn’t want to live at Court. He wanted to be human and with her. She made him feel like he had a chance at living again.

“You should have told me last night.”

“Does it change me?” He already knew it did, but had she noticed?

She nodded and his worst fears were confirmed. He swallowed down the rising ache. What would he do if she never wanted to see him again? Would he have the strength to say no to his father when the Prince asked if he wanted to live in Annwyn?

“Is he gone?” She pointed to the broken mirror.

“I think so.” He picked the pieces up and placed them on the table. How did he ask for the other piece? Straight up. It was the only way. “While I was in Annwyn I saw you in this piece. I think you have the other half.” He turned to look at her. “I think it was here all along, but no one, not even the ghost, knew what it was.”

“The ghost followed me home after I’d packed up some of my grandmother’s personal things. I think I have it.”

“Do you have it here?”

“What are you going to do with it?”

“Return it to my father and get my soul back, hopefully.”

She looked at him as if trying to work out if he was lying. “How do I know you aren’t trying to trick me? Isn’t that what Greys do?”

“A Grey will do anything to get back to Annwyn and stop the fading of looks and power. I didn’t fight Shea because if I did I would have weakened myself and I am already weaker than most Greys because I am half-human. I want my soul back. I want you. I love you.” He wanted to reach for her, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to handle her reaction if she pulled away again. While he could glamour her into helping, he didn’t want to do that either. He was trying his hardest to prove to her he was human, but it felt like everything he wanted was slipping through his fingers and he couldn’t stop it. He waited for the rejection. For the denial of affection.

She took a breath. “I love you too.” Then she walked through the kitchen to her handbag and pulled out an iron bolt and a silver compact. She placed them on the kitchen table next to the broken mirror. “When I realized this might be fairy I put it in my bag next to iron to try and keep it safe. I wanted to give it to you last night but you weren’t in any state to do anything.” Her cheeks colored as if remembering the rest of the details from last night.

When he got back it had felt like he hadn’t slept for three days, that and the loss of his soul and the lack of connection to Annwyn had taken a toll. But Lydia made him feel alive.

“It’s okay. I didn’t know how to ask if you had it. I suspected it must have been something of your grandmother’s.”

“It was a gift, but I think the man was just hiding it here.” She touched the silver case. “Will that Grey be in there, in the mirror?”

“I don’t know.” They both looked at the compact as if expecting Shea to burst out at any moment. Nothing happened. He needed to know if the compact was what he was searching for. “Can I?”

She nodded.

His fingers brushed the silver casing and he got nothing from it. The metal told him nothing of the mirror’s past. He bit back his frustration. How was he supposed to find the damn Window when he couldn’t see what an object was?

“Well?” Lydia raised her eyebrows.

“I don’t know.” The compact was a lump of dead metal in his hands. Then he remembered what Shea had said. A fairy couldn’t sense the Window. Because he was a soulless fairy at the moment it felt like a normal mirror. But the silver case was decorated in a vine-like pattern which was very Annwyn. He opened the catch. The mirror was broken into three, the same as the Counter-Window. Pressed against the silvered glass was Shea. Blue blood stained the cracks as if the mirror was weeping.

“Is that it?” Lydia stepped closer. “Is that… ?”

He let out a slow breath, then shut the compact. There would be no funeral games for Shea in Annwyn. But he’d also been saved the slow death of a Grey.

“It is the Window,” a voice said behind Caspian.

Caspian turned. His father stood in the kitchen. His elegant clothing too bold and bright for the mortal world. He’d heard the call for the end of the deal and crossed the veil to be here.

Felan looked at Caspian, then Lydia. “I’m sorry for this intrusion. I trust you haven’t been harmed?” Felan inclined his head and smiled.

Caspian waited for Lydia to glide toward his father and melt into his arms. But she didn’t move. She was immune to Felan’s charm, that or he wasn’t turning it up to full volume.

“I’m fine…” Her gaze flicked over the Prince’s clothing. “Sir.”

The Prince turned his attention to Caspian. “Thank you.” He held out his hand.

Caspian handed over the compact. The Prince opened it, nodded, and closed it. Then he gathered up the broken pieces from the table.

“Well played, son, although I wished you hadn’t destroyed it.” Felan slipped the pieces into a pocket in his silvery blue coat. The collar was turned up, sharp points jutting under his jaw. With careful movements he pulled the ring off his finger. “This belongs to you.”

“That simple?”

“That simple.” He almost handed Caspian the ring. But closed his hand at the last moment. “I ask you again, do you wish to remain in the mortal world?”

That would be twice he’d been asked. The first time he’d known the answer. Caspian looked at Lydia. She loved him. He had a chance at the life he’d always wanted. The pause stretched out. Felan raised his eyebrows as if he’d won.

Caspian smiled. “I choose to remain.”

Felan gave a small nod, his lips curved up at the corners. “Very well. The next time I ask, you’ll be drawing your last breath.”

A shiver raced down Caspian’s spine. Would he be able to refuse when death was imminent?

The Prince handed over the silver ring with the green and red stone that held his soul and all of his humanity. As soon as it was in his hand there was a change. Nothing he could name directly, but from the ring he received an impression of love and pride. He smiled, his smile, without the fairy edge. “Thank you.”

Caspian put the ring on, not surprised that it fit perfectly.

“You don’t have to wear the ring.”

“I want to.” It would be a reminder of what he’d almost lost. The red line that had split the stone like a cat’s pupil was gone. But it would also remind him that his father had stayed away out of love, not because he was an unwanted changeling.

Felan nodded to Lydia, then to Caspian. “I shall leave you. I have other business to attend at Court.” A flicker of anxiety crossed his face but was quickly masked.

No doubt news of Shea’s death would rock the Court. Those who aligned with him and the Queen would rapidly shift their game. Whatever happened Felan was going to have to make some dangerous calls to save Annwyn. Caspian didn’t envy him at all. For all the privilege, wealth, and status, it wasn’t worth the cost.

“Good luck.” He went to shake his father’s hand, but Felan pulled him into an embrace. They might scheme and carry on as if life was one long party, but fairies did feel and weren’t as cold as he’d thought. He’d learned that in the short time he’d been truly fairy.

Felan drew away. “The family reunion is over. Next time I hope we meet under better circumstances.” Then he turned to leave.

“Wait, sir.” Lydia took a step after him. She should be letting him leave. This man, this fairy, was dangerous and powerful and Caspian’s father. Something she was still trying to grasp, but he was about to walk away with her grandmother’s compact, something her gran had treasured and kept safe for years.

The fairy turned to look at her. His expression was one of puzzlement, as if he didn’t expect to be questioned. There was a similarity between Caspian and the fairy. The eyes. They were the same ice green.

“I just want to know about the mirror and the man who gave it to Gran. I don’t want it back.” She rushed on. This was a bad idea; she shouldn’t have asked. She half-expected anger or some reaction like she had from the Grey, or the sense of menace from the Hunter.

Instead he nodded and drew the compact out of his coat and handed it to Caspian. “Answer her question. I’d like to know too.”

As soon as Caspian’s finger’s touched the mirror he smiled. “A fairy gave her the mirror, he loved being the center of attention at her parties, but he gave her the mirror to hide it as well as to thank her. They were more than friends.”

She’d been right. The singer had been Gran’s lover. Go Gran.

Felan pressed his lips together. “Which fairy?”

“He was a singer… wait,” Lydia darted out of the kitchen to the parlor and Gran’s collection of photos. She knew exactly which picture it was, the one that had made Caspian look twice, because he’d recognized the man as fairy. Looking at it now, he was more than pretty. There was something in his eyes and his cheekbones that gave him away. She picked it up and brought it back to the kitchen where Caspian and his father waited. “Is this him?”

The fairy peered at the photo. “Riobard, up to your old tricks. How did he get his hands on it?”

Caspian frowned, his focus on the mirror and the past no one else could see, then spoke. “He stole it from a female fairy some time ago. There was bitterness between them. Did he know what he was stealing?”

“Oh yes, and I have no doubt he’ll be showing his face at Court very soon.” Caspian’s father took the compact back. “We’re done.” He turned on his heel and left.

This time Lydia kept her mouth closed as the handsome man in the odd clothing walked out of her kitchen as if he owned the place and was giving them permission to get back to their lives.

She’d been speaking to Caspian’s fairy father, Gran had entertained a fairy. She’d seen a Grey get killed by jumping through a mirror. The adrenaline left her feeling sick and weak. She leaned against the kitchen counter for support. Could she deal with having fairies in her life? But when she looked at Caspian she knew she could. It wasn’t his fault he was related to a bunch of immortal, immoral beings.

“Your father’s not any just any fairy, is he?” Her voice was low in case somehow he was still around and listening.

“He’s the Prince.”

“Right.” Of course he was. “Were you ever going to tell me you were fairy Prince?”

“I’m not a prince. I’m just a changeling of no significance to Annwyn. My parentage has been kept secret because others might try to use me to get to him.”

After what she’d seen over the last few days of fairies she totally understood that. “I won’t tell anyone.”

He walked around the kitchen table and drew her into his arms. “Thank you for believing, for understanding.”

Lydia let herself sink into his embrace, just glad to have him back and the other fairies gone. “You don’t get to choose your family.”