The Seven Year King (The Faerie Ring #3) (6 page)

Tiki had not forgotten the
liche
. An undead creature who Donegal had found staked in the Wychwood and raised through dark magic, he had murdered the previous Seelie King before setting out for London to murder Victoria, the Queen of England. Unable to reach the Queen, he had attacked her son, Prince Leopold, who was still recovering from the devastating injuries the
liche
had inflicted. Now Donegal was threatening to feed Dain’s heart to the creature.

Tiki shuddered at the mental image as she held her hands up. “Stop. Don’t say another word. I’ll never be able to leave if I have to tend to every matter that affects this court.”

Larkin raised her eyebrows, her silence more eloquent than any words.

“Oh no—” Tiki’s eyes darted to Rieker, whose face was impassive, and back to Larkin. Tiki shook her head— “I never said I was coming here to stay.”

“It’s just for six months—until Samhain, then you have to give up the throne again, anyway—unless, of course—” her nostrils flared—“we’ve found a way to eliminate the UnSeelie court by then.”

Tiki barked out a short laugh. “I am NOT staying here for six months. Are you out of your mind? I have a family to take care of… responsibilities…”

Lightning-fast, Larkin’s mood shifted. “You have responsibilities here, as well.” Her blue-green eyes flashed with anger. “There are people who depend on you—” her voice began to rise.

“Don’t talk to me in that tone of voice,” Tiki snapped. “You have no right—”

“Teek.” Rieker’s voice held a warning but Tiki ignored him.

“I’ve had enough of your manipulations, Larkin.” There was an odd thrumming inside that Tiki had never felt before—as if the blood was boiling in her veins. “You’re forever twisting people to do your bidding yet you’re free to come and go as you bloody well please—” Tiki was shouting now. “Well, I’ve had enough—”

Rieker stepped in front of Tiki, blocking her view of the faerie. “Teek, take a deep breath.” His dark hair swept across his forehead and waves curled at the sides of his chiseled cheekbones where he’d brushed his hair back. He put his hands on her shoulders and focused on her eyes as his voice lowered. “Everyone’s listening.”

With a start, Tiki realized the noise in the Great Hall had quieted to a low murmur. She glanced around and was met with the curious gazes of a hundred different faeries. Several members of the Macanna now stood on each side of her, their arms loose by their sides, but their eyes wary as their gaze shifted between her and Larkin.

Tiki stepped back. “It’s fine,” she said, tilting her chin up. “Everything is fine.” She fixed a cold gaze on Larkin. “We’ll be returning to London now. Larkin will be my escort.” Without waiting for a reply, Tiki marched down the hallway that led behind the Dragon Throne—the same hallway in which Dain had helped her escape from the Palace of Mirrors previously.

She walked until she was out of sight of the crowd in the Great Hall, aware that Rieker, Larkin and several of the Macanna followed her. When they reached an intersection of hallways, Tiki stopped and jerked around.

“You need to teach me how to transport between here and London.” She spoke to Larkin in an imperious tone, still angry at the relentless demands the faerie continued to place on her. “I haven’t got time to walk through the gates when I want to come and go. Surely, as queen, I must have the ability to transport at will.”

Tiki didn’t know the first thing about the Otherworld, but she was loathe to admit it in front of these Macanna, who seemed to be watching her every move. Instead, she simply repeated the terms she’d heard Dain use when they’d talked about traveling to London.

Larkin’s eyes were slits in her exquisite face, though her voice remained neutral. She motioned at the three men who had followed them. “Your services are no longer needed.”

A tall young man, his shoulders as wide as Rieker’s and half again more, took a step closer to Tiki. His brown hair reached his shoulders and was laced with braids and beads, but muscles bulged from his arms and there was no question he could do serious harm to a body should he choose.

“We stay with her Majesty.” His words were simple and non-negotiable.

“Callan—” the corners of Larkin’s mouth pinched—“while I appreciate your dedication, it’s not necessary. I can keep—”

Callan held up a huge hand. “We stay with her Majesty.” He crossed his arms over his great chest and turned away from Larkin to survey the hall, first one way and then the other.

Larkin’s nostrils flared as her lips pressed in a thin line. “Fine.” She shifted her attention back to Tiki. “Visualize where you want to go and will yourself to be there. It shouldn’t be difficult for you.” She raised her chin. “When will you return?”

“I don’t—”

“When do you suggest Tiki return, Larkin?” Rieker asked in a smooth voice. “She’s been concerned about Clara and Fiona. I think she feels the need to check on their welfare. Once she knows they’re all right, then I think she can commit to staying here for a longer period of time.” He shot Tiki a sideways glance. “Is that right, Teek?”

A surge of irritation shot through Tiki. Why was he always defending that faerie? “Yes, I’m sure I can spend some time on these… matters…when I return.” She slipped her hand under Rieker’s elbow and pictured the square in front of Number Six. To her amazement, the room before her began to shimmer, then disappeared from sight.

THOUGH NIGHT HAD settled on London, a warm breeze ruffled the leaves of the trees that filled Grosvenor Square. For the first time in months, stars sparkled from a clear night sky. Tiki stared in amazement at the row of townhomes across the street from where they stood, lights casting a cheery glow through shuttered windows.

“We did it!” she exclaimed as she turned a slow circle. “We’re back.”

Rieker’s grin was broad and he held his arms out wide. “Well done, Teek.” Tiki threw herself into his arms and he whispered in her ear, “or perhaps I should say, your Majesty.”

Tiki laughed, resting her cheek against his hard chest, her arms wrapped tight around his slim waist. Beneath her ear she could hear the slow rhythmic beating of his heart, like a metronome to which her own heart kept time.

“If you call me that, I’ll be forced to call you Sir William and somehow that makes you sound like a stuffy aristocrat.” She leaned back to smile at him. “And we both know that’s not the case.”

Rieker smiled as he rested his hand beneath her chin. “Lord knows I have no intention of ever being stuffy. Certainly not while you’re around.” His mouth lowered to hers and Tiki rose on tiptoes to meet his lips. She slid her arms around his neck, savoring the moment. A different kind of hunger burned in the pit of her stomach and she pressed closer, wanting to feel his body against her own.

A small cough sounded and Tiki pulled back with a start. Callan and two other members of the Macanna stood nearby, each scanning the area in different directions.

“What are you doing here?” Tiki asked in a loud whisper, glad the dark night hid the color she was sure stained her cheeks.

“Majesty,” Callan gave a half-bow as if Tiki had just walked into the room instead of being caught snogging with Rieker. “We are your bodyguards. Where you go—we go.” He pointed in the darkness. “There are several other members of the Macanna watching in the distance.”

“Bodyguards…” Tiki repeated faintly. She couldn’t have bodyguards following her all over London. Especially men who looked like Callan. Even Rieker looked a bit startled at this new development.

“You’ll remain unseen to the mortal eye?” he asked.

Callan quirked a brow at Rieker. “If that’s what Majesty wants, of course.”

“Yes, I want that,” Tiki said quickly, realizing she had yet to don the glamour she’d grown up with in London. “Otherwise, it might be difficult to explain your presence.” She smothered a wild laugh as she murmured the words to change her appearance and the smell of clover permeated the air. Bodyguards—for her? It was ludicrous. “D..do you need anything before I go in?” she asked, hesitantly looking from one to the other. Only Callan met her eyes.

“No. We’re here to serve and protect you. You need not worry about us.”

“All right, thank you.” Tiki hurried across the cobblestone street, Rieker close at her heels. As they clattered up the front steps she clutched at Rieker’s arm.

His brow furrowed in a frown. “What is it?”

She looked at him with a horror-stricken gaze. “I just realized—I forgot to ask about Johnny.”

Chapter Eight

T
he
liche
stood outside the UnSeelie rath, hidden among the shadows between the gnarled and stunted trees within the Plain of Starlight, and contemplated the visit he’d just concluded with the Winter King. A few months ago, Donegal had freed him from an agonizing death staked within the Wychwood Forest—for a price. As payment, the
liche
had been tasked with killing the Seelie King and Victoria, the mortal queen of England. The murder of the Seelie King had been relatively easy, but Victoria had protected herself well, making it impossible to get close enough to accomplish the task.

Now, Donegal had given him another assignment: to kill the new queen of the Seelie Court.

The
liche’s
fingers trembled as he threaded his long black hair behind one ear. He was still dressed in the elegant black cape, jacket and trousers that he’d been wearing when he’d run from London. His freedom and very life were at the mercy of the Winter King.

An image of the girl the
liche
had tried to take from Hyde Park floated in his memory. He drew in a deep breath. It was as if he could still smell the sweet scent of her young flesh. But instead of the girl, he’d been forced to take the foolish boy—Johnny, she’d called him—who had protected her.

Though not his first choice, the boy’s heart would have satisfied him for a period of time. But he’d had to leave the boy behind in his desperate attempt to escape from Larkin—which had been successful by only the narrowest of margins. Had the faerie caught him she would have meted out the most terrible of punishments—her reputation was well known in the Otherworld. He shuddered at the idea of being staked in the depths of the forest again and left to a death that could take centuries.

Before being dumped, however, the boy had unwittingly provided a few tidbits of valuable information: the girl whose flesh the
liche
craved was named Fiona and she was somehow connected to Grosvenor Square in London.

That was where he would start. His hunger gnawed at him with a physical pain. He wouldn’t be able to go long without feeding.

The
liche
straightened his top hat and gave a sharp tug to his lapels. He would find the girl—Fiona—and he would savor the taste of her young heart. And then he would find and kill the new Seelie queen.

Chapter Nine

“H
appy birthday, Arthur,” Leo said as he shuffled into his brother’s office. He clutched a piece of parchment in one hand. “It appears Mother Nature has noted it’s your special day and bestowed a gift upon us.”

Prince Arthur swiveled around in his chair to watch his ailing brother’s slow approach. Though it had been several weeks since Leo had been attacked by an unknown assailant while on his way to the royal mews, it was only in the last few days that his brother had felt well enough to be up and about on his own. A deep gash on his neck had bled persistently until Arthur had sought the help of Mamie, one of his mother’s ladies-in-waiting, who had an uncommon knowledge, not only of the way of healing herbs, but also of the Otherworld.