Legacy

chapter Five


The faerie mounds were out in the middle of a large field. We turned off a paved two-lane country road and followed the single dirt and grass lane until it came to a dead end directly in front of the mounds. Lacking the disruption of the city’s lights, the stars shone brightly in the pre-dawn sky. The mounds were equivalent to gently rolling hills placed very close together in an otherwise flat expanse of pasture. Sheep grazed nearby. There were no distinguishing markers that announced we were near any supernatural location other than four copses of trees, one at each point of the compass, at the farthest edges of the mounds in each direction. Tarrek got out of the car at the same time the driver opened my door. The driver was much shorter than I’d expected. I took in his appearance and, belatedly remembering Tarrek’s directive not to stare, hastily looked away. What I’d gathered in my initial glance was that he was around five feet tall and dressed in very odd leather clothing, with decorative stitching at the cuffs and a large, rusty knife hanging awkwardly from his waist on his left side and strapped to his thigh. He wore a gun, holstered, on his right. As previously noted, his eyes were orange and his nose was slightly bulbous. He had grinned at me before I looked away, and his teeth looked rather sharp.

Tarrek was suddenly at my side, and I jumped. He put his arm around my shoulders and turned me toward the north, where his contingent of guards had appeared. They were all brutally attractive men, though there was something in them that I recognized as distinctly inhuman. One of them, apparently the leader, stepped forward and Tarrek walked to meet him. The guard offered Tarrek a lump of something dark. He accepted it and said something in Fae and then turned back to me and held out a new jacket. It looked like it was about my size. I shrugged out of the borrowed suit jacket and he nodded, stepping toward me. I slipped my arms into the sleeves, and it drew a sigh out of me. It was some type of leather, but it was softer than anything I’d ever touched. It fit like a glove, without being tight, and hung to my knees. Because it came from Tarrek it was black. I instantly loved it.

“Thank you,” I said. “I appreciate the use of it.”

“It’s a gift. Our seer gave the head seamstress general dimensions and the information that you would visit us on a cold morning. I couldn’t have you getting cold on your first visit to my home.” Dimples decorated his cheeks when he smiled like this, and they made him even more appealing.

I couldn’t help but smile back. “Then thank you even more,” I said, and stood up on tiptoe to kiss his cheek where the dimple lay.

He looked very pleased and, as he bent at the waist to bring his face nearer, he turned into the kiss and made it a gentle contact between our lips.

I started, pulling back and blushing like mad. I was liable to pass out given the number of times I’d blushed in the last twelve hours. Embarrassing.

“Do I apologize?” he asked, grinning again but looking mischievous this time.

I rubbed my lips with cold fingertips and shook my head. “No. No, I don’t think so. But in order to keep my head clear, can we go on to the site of the disappearance?” Something bothered me, but I couldn’t quite put it together. I looked around at the guards and they were all armed even better than the driver had been. Maybe I was just uncomfortable with all the weapons. The only thing I had available to stop an attack was my mind, and it wasn’t bullet proof.

“Of course.” He held out his arm to me, and I took it. He turned me toward the northern copse of trees, and we began the walk through the field, our merry contingent hot on our heels.



The area where Jossel had allegedly disappeared was unimpressive. It was located in the northern stand of the ancient oak trees. That was it. There was nothing remarkable about it, no flashing arrow pointing to a single clue. I began looking around the area with Tarrek trailing right behind me. I came across two sets of boot prints in the soft dirt, one large and the other, within the first, smaller. The smaller prints moved from tree to tree so that it appeared as if someone was stalking Jossel, or herding him in a particular direction. I held up my hand for everyone to stop. I got on my hands and knee to look for clues but also to say a quick prayer that I didn’t make a total ass of myself. The guards all watched me carefully, aware of who I was but, more importantly, what I was—a woman. Being a descendant of the Father of Who-Done-It was a blessing and a curse. It occurred to me as I ran my fingers through the sparse grass that these men likely knew my great-granddad. I sighed. Again, no pressure.

“Tarrek?” I called out.

“Here,” he responded, and I suddenly saw a pair of Italian shoes in my peripheral vision. “What may I do, Maddy?”

“I need a digital camera. Preferably a professional grade one. How possible would it be to get one out here this morning?”

“Give me a moment. Do you have a brand you prefer?” Before I could answer he turned and beckoned to one of the guards before turning back to me. I looked up at his face, which was all business.

“Uh, Canon is my personal favorite.”

“It will be handled. Give me a moment.” He stepped away and spoke to the guard, who nodded and disappeared. Literally. The guy was there one second, gone the next. I gasped. Tarrek walked quickly back to me and squatted down, forearms resting on his knees. “Remember what I told you about the ease of our traditional transportation? Earlier, in the car?” He touched nothing that was potential evidence. Or me.

“Waxing and waning,” I whispered.

“Very good.” He beamed. “You just saw Klayn wane. It’s common for us, so you’ll need to become used to it, okay?”

He talked about it as if it were that simple a concept. It was like saying, “We prefer tea over coffee, so be prepared to drink tea.” I sat on the ground, hard, and hoped I hadn’t squashed any evidence. Tarrek stayed squatted next to me while I thought through the strangeness that was now my life. Before I could come up with any profound explanation for the question Why me? Klayn appeared, or waxed, about ten feet in front of me. I made that horrible girly eep noise and the guards’ collective chuckles rang through the morning mist that was developing. I scowled at them. Great. Now I was amusing.

Stepping up to me Klayn said in a surprisingly deep baritone, “I apologize, Niteclif.” There was a small smile playing around his lips. In his hand was the camera. I didn’t ask where it had come from or how he’d obtained it in a matter of minutes, but instead took the camera when he offered it to me. I looked it over and began adjusting settings. This I knew how to do, and I was comforted by the familiar.

“You know this piece of machinery?” Klayn asked.

“Sure. I have one of my own and was an amateur photographer before…before all of this.” I waved my arm about, generally encompassing everyone I could see. “Nice to see modern equipment being mostly plastic works for your normal mode of transportation. Thanks for picking it up for me.”

“You’re welcome. Call out if you need anything else.” He retreated to stand with the other guards.

With Tarrek right on my heels, I began walking around the scene of the disappearance and taking pictures of the footprints, using my sneaker-clad foot as a reference point to size. Some of the footprints were very clear, as were some of the prints-within-prints, while others were nothing more than a mess of disturbed earth. I followed the prints, making mental notes about the size and space of the stalker and stalked footprints and apparent strides. Jossel’s footprints, which were easy to discern due to the direct pattern of his path, had been the larger of the two. Or was it three? A new set seemed to appear from nowhere. Taking more pictures, I walked on and came to a point where there had obviously been a fight. The boot prints were a mess, turning up dirt and grass, and there was a trail of rusty colored earth, likely where blood had been spilled, at the farthest edge of the struggle. But whose blood I didn’t know. And then I made my first mistake, one I have promised myself I will never make again. I failed to look up. Tarrek’s attention was focused on my progress, and as I turned to ask him about the possibility of typing the blood, I saw strange markings carved into the trees, spaced in a rough circle about seven feet up each trunk. Recognizing the symbols, I stood quickly and turned to ask Tarrek’s opinion regarding their origin.

“Tarrek,” I began, my voice sounding hollow to my ears, “look at—” Something huge punched me in the left shoulder. It spun me like a top, and I began to fall. The last thing I remember was Tarrek’s bellowing rage, the rushing of the guards and the breaking of dawn. It was a beautiful sunrise.



I woke up sweating, covered in piles of blankets. It was so odd. My shoulder didn’t hurt. Much. Okay, a little but it wasn’t nearly as bad as I thought it would be. Because I was relatively certain I had been shot, though with what I wasn’t positive. The only thing I was sure of was that someone had been aiming for my heart and had to have intended my death. And I was sure I knew who that someone was. I wanted to talk to Tarrek before outing the guy because this was going to affect him directly.

The door opened, and the devil himself came through. Tarrek had changed into cream leather trews, a long white poet’s-style shirt and black knee-high boots. Sort of a roguish pirate look. Slap his image on a romance novel, and it was bound to become a best seller. Yum. He even had the short sword strapped to his hip. And I was willing to bet he had other weapons tucked away on his person.

“How are you?” he asked in a soft voice, as if I would crack from the sound.

“I’m fine,” I rasped. “I could use some water, though.”

He reached for a cup and poured something electric blue into it.

“What’s that?” I asked, taking the cup from him and looking inside before I took a sip and made a face.

“It’s a sleeping draught offered by our physician,” he said, reaching over to stroke my hair. The air he disturbed with his movement swept over me and I inhaled deeply. He smelled and looked delicious. It was sort of a combination of oranges and cinnamon. Manly potpourri. What was going on?

“Are you wearing cologne?” I asked, my voice sharper than I intended it to be. He smiled, and I can only describe the look on his face as bashful.

“You can smell that?” He looked both embarrassed and pleased.

“Smell what exactly?”

He fidgeted, adjusting his boot tops, then his belt. I raised an eyebrow at him, and he said, “It’s just me, myself. In the sithen the smell becomes intensified.”

“Why?”

He shrugged. “It’s my home, and it’s my magic.”

“But what is it?” I pressed.

“It’s the smell fairies release to attract partners.” He saw the look on my face and said, “I’m not doing it to gain your affections, Maddy. I can’t help it. It’s an involuntary response when a male faerie finds someone he wants. And each male’s smell is different. It’s sexual in nature, nothing more.” He looked at me so intensely and said it all so calmly that I was even more flustered.

“I don’t get you guys,” I muttered. I had a moment of sudden comprehension, and I shrieked, “I’m in the sithen? How the hell did that happen? How long have I been here? Someone tell me what’s happened! Did I really get shot?!” I gasped the last, a full memory slamming into me nearly as hard as the projectile had.

Tarrek winced, no doubt at the decibel of my voice. “Maddy, relax—”

“Relax? How the hell am I supposed to relax when I’ve been shot by your driver.”

“Maddox? No, Maddy, he wouldn’t have done this. He’s served the royal family for generations. You’re mistaken.”

I forced myself to sit up, doing my best to breathe through the pain in my shoulder that movement brought. “Find him, Tarrek, and find him now.”

“Maddy, you’re wrong. Maddox wouldn’t do this.”

“I’m not wrong, Tarrek, and I’ll tell you why once I’ve interviewed Maddox.”

He got up and went to what appeared to be a mirror. He cast his hand across its face, and a mist filled it. Then there were images and Tarrek tapped the side of the mirror to change the images, apparently the faerie equivalent of channel surfing. His brows began to draw together, especially when he surveyed the exterior, because Bahlin was standing there and even I could tell he was pissed.

“Oh for the love of the goddess,” Tarrek muttered. “I’m not letting him in. He’ll have to stand out there and continue to wait.” He bent and drew a dagger from the inside of his boot, spinning it in his hands in agitation and silent threat.

I began shifting covers off of me, my movements fitful.

Hearing the rustle of cloth, Tarrek turned. “Maddy, stay down. You’re not supposed to get up for another day at the very least.” He abandoned the mirror and rushed over to me.

“Screw that,” I said through gritted teeth. “I need to see both of you, and you just indicated that he’d have to wait outside, so that’s where I’m going. We’ll talk there.” I was sweating bullets, no pun intended, the pain in my shoulder much more pronounced.

“You’ll be the death of me, and that’s something. He took small, halting steps away from me and then back, like he couldn’t decide whether to leave or make sure I didn’t get out of bed. “Fine. Fine. I’ll go get him.” He threw the dagger down with a thump on the small dresser. “So I don’t kill him,” he muttered, and he stomped off.

I slumped back into bed. This gave me some time to look around the room. It was well lit and bright in the same way the morning sun brightens a lightly curtained room, soft and glowing. This may not sound noteworthy but there were no windows and no lamps. The room seemed to generate its own light. The room appeared carved from the earth, with floors that were natural gray stone and the walls whitewashed. The furniture was all extremely large, but it fit the space perfectly. The bed was another high bed, requiring a stepstool to get into it. The headboard was maple, with a darker burl all through the wood. Everything in the room had an organic feel. Steps from the bed was a doorway that led into the bathroom. From the little I could see, it looked as opulent and modern as the one at the hotel. I realized then how grimy I felt and wondered how I might get a quick shower.

I heard muted voices and realized they were coming from the mirror. I looked over and saw that Tarrek and Bahlin were yelling at each other, gesticulating wildly and aggressively. I stared, fascinated. It was like a car wreck—you know you’re going to see carnage, but you can’t look away. Bahlin suddenly punched Tarrek in the face, rocking the other man’s head back far enough I instantly worried for his neck. Bahlin’s movements were so fast they were only a blur. Tarrek recovered and charged Bahlin, catching him around the ribs and taking him to the ground hard and fast, landing at least two solid blows to the ribs. The men pounded on each other as guards poured from the sithen through unseen doorways in the ground. Guards broke up what would have been an ugly fight and both men stood, straightening their clothing—Tarrek in his fine clothes and Bahlin in jeans and a T-shirt. More words, calm words, were exchanged and both men headed inside the sithen. Oh boy.



It was about a half-hour later that the door opened, and Tarrek and Bahlin came through. Tarrek’s mouth was already healing, and he’d changed clothes. Bahlin’s split knuckles had healed, but he was still covered with the flotsam of the fight-grass, grass stains, a little blood. I smiled at them both. I couldn’t help it.

“Maddy,” Bahlin breathed, rushing toward the bed in a burst of speed. “Sweetheart.” His eyes roamed over me, and I realized I was dressed in a very small tank top and my underwear; nothing else. Awkward. I pulled the covers up a little higher.

“I’m okay, Bahlin. It’s kind of you to worry, but don’t. Nothing can be changed about what’s happened, okay? Tarrek?” He was standing near the door. I turned toward him. “Where do the lights come from?”

“Lights?”

“In the room. There aren’t any windows or lamps.”

He grinned, though there was a shadow behind his eyes that bothered me. “It’s enchanted.”

“I’m not buying that story,” I said, shaking my head then wincing at the movement.

“It’s true. It’s enchanted lighting. There are words you can say in the old language to brighten or darken a room.” He said something that sounded like contarpay and the lights dimmed to a mood-light setting. Then he said something that sounded like pletenda and the lights came back up. I laughed out loud. There’s nothing like finding out that fairies do exist and then getting to stay in a magical sithen to lift a girl’s spirits. Speaking of…

“Uh, thanks for taking care of me, Tarrek.” The words were soft, my gratitude sincere. Bahlin let out the lowest of growls, raising the hair on the back of my neck in a primal evolutionary response. “Stop,” I told him. “He saved me.”

“How?” Bahlin demanded. “He let you get shot.” His voice rose with each word.

“Don’t yell,” I scolded him. “No, he didn’t let me get shot. I was shot. Period.” This had to be part of the Niteclif heritage speaking, because in my mind I hadn’t stopped shrieking yet. “Tarrek, come over here. I want to tell this once. First, did you see Maddox anywhere in the sithen when you went out to get Bahlin?”

“No, but I ordered the guards to look for him and deliver him here at once. The sithen is enormous, so he could be anywhere.” He sounded defensive, and the tension around his eyes told me he was still convinced I was wrong.

“Thank you. When he can’t be found, you’ll be ready to believe this. Maddox was the shooter.” Tarrek shook his head, and Bahlin looked interested.

“How do you know?” Bahlin asked. “From what I heard you went down pretty quickly.” His face grew dark, and his brows drew together. A dark, heady spice was coming from him, but his smell was different than Tarrek’s. Like the previous times I’d smelled his scent, he reminded me of fresh air and rain showers. They both smelled wonderful, though there was one my nose preferred. Regardless, it was apparent that Tarrek smelled it, too, because he glared at Bahlin. Oh good. At least I’d proven one thing successfully—testosterone has a smell. I’d always wondered.

“Listen, I began to realize something was off when I got out of the car, but I was too slow to figure it out in time. Maddox is right handed. His handgun was in his holster on that side. But his sword was on his left leg, and it had been put in backwards, meaning he’d had it out to use it and struggled to get it re-sheathed correctly, probably because he was in a hurry.” I shifted, trying to get comfortable. “I also noticed the scroll work on his clothing. It wasn’t decorative. It matched some of the symbols in the clearing where Jossel’s blood was found. Those symbols were carved into the trees. The symbols must have provided some type of warding or protection, which means that whoever put them there intended to facilitate Maddox’s errand, either as the killer or the killer’s proxy when he shot me. His boots were the same style as the footprints within Jossel’s larger footprints, and Maddox was the only one who hung back when we proceeded into the woods. No doubt it was to find a better spot from which to shoot me.” My shoulder gave a harsh ache, and I sighed. Being shot at sucked. Being shot at and hit sucked more. “I’m betting he disappeared from the faerie mounds in all the chaos after I was shot, and I bet that whoever he’s working for is not happy with him right now for missing me.”

“But he didn’t miss you, Maddy,” said Bahlin. Tarrek looked pale and disbelieving.

“Yes, Bahlin, he did. He meant to kill me. He was aiming for my heart, but I turned at the same moment he pulled the trigger. I was going to tell Tarrek what I’d discerned.” I looked at the other man, and he was stricken. “I’m sorry,” I whispered to him. I held out my hand and he shook his head at me, getting up and walking out of the room. I dropped my hand and watched him go. He shut the door softly behind him, the sharp click of the latch making me jump in the echoing silence.

“I’ve met Maddox before. He’s been with the family for hundreds of years and I know he helped raise Tarrek, so this will be hard to accept.” Bahlin’s voice was empathetic but firm. “However, as we discussed, Niteclif word is law, so he’s done for.”

The weight of accountability was the heaviest of yokes. I didn’t know if I wanted this, the responsibility of being judge and jury burdening me like the weight of a thousand potentially wrong choices. Could I do this? Could I deprive some supernatural creature the length of life it had expected? What if I was wrong?

“How long do faeries live?” I asked in a subdued voice.

Bahlin smiled gently at me and shrugged, leaning his hip against the edge of the bed. “Easily three thousand years. That’s the oldest I’ve known personally. Beyond that, I don’t know. They’re a fairly secretive race.”

I thought about that and couldn’t help but wonder how old Tarrek was.



When Bahlin told me I’d been in the sithen, unconscious, for three days, I lost it again. I demanded he get me some pants and get me up and walking. I couldn’t stay in bed another minute, especially knowing the hurt my revelation had caused Tarrek and, I was sure by default, his family. Plus Jossel and Maddox were still missing. The shirt I wore was borrowed, from whom I had no idea. My pants had been declared ruined due to the bloodstains and were subsequently discarded. There were no other pants to be found. So Bahlin pulled his T-shirt off and let me borrow it so that I had a shirt that hung well passed my hips at least. He went bare-chested, and thank the merciful heavens for that. The man had a six-pack that made me long to trace the swells and valleys of muscle with my tongue. I could imagine running my lips all over that. Man I needed a cigarette.

He helped me get upright and supported me on my good shoulder, letting me walk around the room and look at the amazing floor, and the way the walls and floor seemed to meet seamlessly. I went into the bathroom and had to wonder about plumbing. Who did they call if they needed something snaked? And did they tie in to the public water system? If not where did the water come from? All these questions that I wanted literal answers for when, truthfully, there were probably no answers beyond it’s magic.

I came back out of the bathroom under my own power, but it only took a couple of turns around the room for me to realize that I didn’t feel well at all. Bahlin got me back into bed. My shoulder felt hot and stiff and I was getting light-headed.

“Maddy, I want to lift the bandages off so I can see the wound, okay?” He wiped the sweat from my forehead with a rag that seemed to have appeared in his hand.

“Fine, but don’t look at my goods.” I tried to smile, but the look on Bahlin’s face said that whatever the smile had actually translated to was scary.

“Sweetheart, you’re in no shape for me to check out your goods.” He looked me over from head to toe and then said, “But the time will come when that’s all we have to do, for hours upon hours.”

“Pretty sure of yourself, Bahlin,” I whispered, feeling the pull of sleep.

“Of course I’m sure of myself. Who could resist this?” He smiled with forced cheer, making a sweeping pass across his chest and abs with his hand.

I laughed a little, and that seemed to make him feel better. “Of course you’d think so,” I replied and I settled back into the pillows more thoroughly. “But that gives me the personal challenge to resist, and you know I don’t deal with so well with those, personal challenges, these days.”

“Point taken, and statement struck from the conversation,” he said, his smile revealing a single dimple.

He bent over me, lifting the shirt over my stomach and off my left shoulder, gently beginning to peel back the tape and gauze from the wound. I looked down and realized his eyes had changed color. I slapped my good hand over my left breast and glared at him.

“Bahlin, tell me that your kind doesn’t eat people, because you’ve got this weird look on your face…”

“Maddy, I’m old enough that I can resist the draw of meat which, incidentally, is what you are.”

I stiffened and glared at him, daring him to say it again.

“Don’t take offense, love. Dragons have eaten people in the past, so it’s only natural that my physiology recognizes the potential.” His smile softened at my obvious concern. “I’ll not ravage your wound or attack your person. I promise, though, that last will cost me in personal comfort.”

I skipped the sexual innuendo. “Have you ever eaten people?” I felt a little foolish asking, but where had I ever had any kind of experience with dragons?

Bahlin ignored me and continued to peel the tape away and I felt the tape pull against my skin in a tight, uncomfortable way. When the air hit the wound I gasped, shocked at how painful it was.

“This isn’t good, Maddy,” Bahlin muttered, shaking his head and leaning in close to the torn flesh. He sniffed me like he was some sort of preternatural bloodhound. “It doesn’t smell right. It should be healing but it’s getting infected somehow. Maddy?”

“Hmm?” I was so drowsy. I wished Bahlin would get closer to me so I could smell him again.

“Maddy, something’s wrong. I need to heal this wound quickly. Do you understand?”

“Understand what? I don’t heal like you guys do. I don’t—”

“No, but I can temporarily give you some of my ability to heal the wound. Maddy.” He snapped his fingers in front of my face.

“Fine, fine, fine. Whatever.” My head rolled around on my shoulders like a broken doll’s. “That’s right. You were a doctor. Makes sense now.” The room swam in and out of focus, the light seeming both too bright and too dim to see by.

I rolled my head toward Bahlin and saw him bend toward my shoulder. He snaked his tongue out and my eyes struggled to focus. His tongue was forked. I made a feeble effort to pull away from him, alarmed at how quickly I’d deteriorated after my short stroll around the room.

Bahlin took a deep breath and said in a rumbling voice, “This is going to hurt like a son of a bitch, Maddy. Apologies, love.” Then he struck, shoving his tongue into the wound and breathing heat into it.

“Oh what the hell,” I yelled, snapping out of my stupor with the pain of the dragon’s strike. It felt like the wound was being burned from the inside out and I screamed, unable to bear the agony with any measure of stoicism. Bahlin bore down with clawed fingertips, holding me as steady as he could while I renewed my efforts to fight him off, thrashing about on the bed. It was useless. I was consumed by fire in his embrace.

Time became irrelevant, with seconds feeling like hours, minutes like days. The heat from his mouth became incrementally cooler by comparative day number seven, and I began to feel as if I’d survive after all. Several more minutes passed and Bahlin lifted his head, sweating and weaving a bit, retracting his claws from where they had pierced my skin. I watched as those same claws shimmered and returned to a man’s hands, Bahlin’s hands.

“Well done, sweetheart, well done.” His voice was lazy, his eyes unfocused. Apparently whatever had poisoned my bloodstream had rendered him slightly drunk. Fan-damn-tastic.

“Bahlin? Bahlin?” I returned the favor, snapping my fingers under his nose. He looked at me and smiled with such innocence, and I was hit with a wave of his scent. He leaned in and moved as if to kiss me when I remembered his forked tongue. I turned my head, and he made contact with my cheek.

“Be a love and give us a kiss.” His voice was lazy and seductive, deeper than normal.

Something low in my belly clenched, and it pissed me off. I wasn’t kissing the us to whom he referred. Did his dragon think like a second, individual person? I wondered. Ultimately it was irrelevant. Angry without understanding exactly why, I said, “This should sound familiar—bugger off.”

“You kiss blokes with that mouth?”

“You kiss the girls with that forked tongue?”

He reacted as if I’d slapped him. His eyes became clearer, and he took a sloppy step backward. “Beautiful,” he snapped, “just bloody beautiful. You’re welcome.”

I cringed and rolled away from him, embarrassed to have behaved so ungratefully. But I couldn’t seem to find it in myself to apologize. He’d crossed some invisible line I hadn’t know I had. I’d begun to see him as a man, a very desirable man, and he had ruined that fantasy for me. Now the monster seemed to overlay the whole of him, and I couldn’t see around it.

“You’d best get up and get a shower if yeh’re wantin’ one,” Bahlin said in a hard, brogued voice. “Tarrek will be back soon with clothes, I’m sure.”

I bit my cheek, turning back toward him to apologize when I saw my shoulder. There was a pucker of pink scar tissue and the area around it was bruised and looked like I had a huge hickey. But the shoulder appeared fine, if a little stiff. My eyes sought his as my finger gently poked at the healed wound, and he stared at me without blinking.

“You did this? With just your breath?”

He gave a sardonic grin. “Oh no, fair lady. No’ joost me breath but me bloody forked tongue, a bit o’ saliva and a little controlled fire, as weel.” His tone was so acidic it could have blistered the paint off a car.

“Look, cut me some slack, o-oh shit.” I flipped the covers off my legs and slid to the floor, my knees only slightly wobbly. “Oh, man.” I yanked Bahlin’s shirt back on with unsteady hands.

“What?” he asked, striding toward me, gripping my shoulder and spinning me to face him. I cringed, and he dropped his hand. “Do yeh think I’d strike ye? By the gods, woman! I’ve no’ hit a woman since the Dragons’ Conquest of 1712, and that was war.” He threw his hands in the air and spun on his heel, stomping toward the bedroom door.

“Stop,” I cried, and he froze. “Please, don’t leave, Bahlin,” I said. “I think I was poisoned.”

“Shot and then poisoned? Yeh’re the unluckiest of people.” His brogue softened a syllable at a time until it dissolved. He turned back to face me. “Wait. Are you serious?” He walked toward me slowly.

“I’m dead—ha—serious.” I took a couple of steps toward him so we met in the middle of the room.

“Tell me.”

“Tarrek was in the room when I woke up. I asked for something to drink, and he gave me some blue stuff that the healer left for me and then the whole thing happened about finding Maddox and then you showed up.”

“I didn’t just show up, Maddy. I’ve been here the three days you’ve been knocked out.”

“You waited for me? Why?”

He shrugged, looking uncomfortable.

“Oh yeah,” I said, “the promise to Aloysius.” Why make more of it than it is, right?

“Sure. That’s it,” he whispered, stepping closer to me. “Go on.”

I pulled my fingers through my hair, tugging on the ends trying to stimulate my still sluggish brain. “Um, Tarrek went to get you, you guys came back and then…then… Where is Tarrek?”



Tarrek came back into the room more than two hours later. It had given Bahlin and I a chance to talk and for me to take a short nap. Regardless of Bahlin’s contribution to my healing process, I was still human and incredibly tired.

“A death warrant has been issued for Maddox.” Tarrek’s eyes were drawn and grief etched hard lines around his mouth and eyes. “He’ll be killed on sight.”

I felt so sorry for him, but I was afraid to extend my sympathy lest he remember it was sort of my doing. So I stuck to the case. “I take it he hasn’t been found then.”

“The sithen has been searched. He’s not here.” Tarrek sat in a chair closest to the bed and looked at me, his hand absently reaching for the dirk. He took a deep breath as if to say something and he froze mid-motion, his eyes suddenly sharpened. “What have you been doing this afternoon, Maddy?”

Aw, crap. Looked like I’d get to smell that yummy testosterone smell again after all. “I’ve been healing, thanks. Bahlin made a small contribution to me healing the wound and it’s better. See?” I flapped my arm as I had earlier. He stared at me.

“Do you understand what you’ve done? How you’ve potentially tied yourself to him?” he demanded, rising from the chair and approaching the bed.

“Take it down a notch, Tarrek. Why are you so upset?”

“Yes, Tarrek,” Bahlin said, standing from the room’s other chair near the door, “what’s got you so upset, mate?” He looked lethal in his jeans and sneakers. And where Tarrek has stormed toward me, Bahlin moved like a large, lethal predator as he came toward us. Tarrek didn’t give ground.

“You know what you can do by exchanging resources with the Niteclif,” Tarrek said, his voice going deeper than I’d ever heard it.

“Mind yourself, Tarrek. Nothing’s happened. There was no exchange, only a very minor contribution on my part.” Bahlin turned his back on Tarrek and walked back to the chair he’d been sitting in.

“What can happen?” I asked, suddenly worried. Had I done something irrevocable? I sat up in bed, tugging the covers more securely around my hips and finger-combing my hair yet again. “Seriously, what’s going to happen?”

Bahlin scowled at Tarrek and said, “Nothing, love. There’s been no exchange to speak of. It can happen that if a Niteclif and an immortal exchange power that the two become bound.”

“Bound how?” I demanded.

Tarrek sighed and Bahlin addressed him. “Why don’t you go on and explain it to her now that you’ve got her disturbed?”

“I’m sorry, Maddy, I didn’t mean to upset you.” Tarrek pushed his hands into his pants pockets and rocked back on his heels. “Sometimes the two, the supernatural being and the Niteclif, can become bound to each other. The supe either becomes mortal or the Niteclif become immortal. It has happened twice before, with one of each result. But it’s rare, you understand.”

I refused to deal with this right now, no matter how relevant it was to my future. I was so close to unraveling, my mind began to compartmentalize—cope with this, ignore that.

Still wearing Bahlin’s shirt, I swung my legs out of the bed and slid to the floor. “I need some pants and a better shirt. Is there any chance I could get set up?” I asked Tarrek.

“Sure, Maddy. I apologize for not seeing to you earlier. It’s been a trying afternoon.” And just like that, his grief was back.

I padded over to him, barefoot on the marble, which was surprisingly neither cool nor warm, like lukewarm water is neither hot nor cold. I laid my hand on his arm and said, “I’m so sorry, Tarrek. I didn’t mean to cause you or your family any heartache.”

He laid his other hand over mine. His eyes glowed a little and I realized that strong emotion would do that, make them blaze like two gems set into his face. “You did your job, Maddy, and it appears you’ve made your choice. Both were impressive to see, if hard to accept.” With that he swept out of the room, not speaking to Bahlin again.



Tarrek was gone for a while, returning having changed into more formal clothes of his own and carrying a gown for me. It wasn’t what I would have chosen. He brought me a lovely dress that was more appropriate for a Celtic festival than it was for fighting crime. But I didn’t initially complain too loudly. Beggars and choosers and that whole lot.

Tarrek looked reserved yet shy as he handed me the green dress. “Bahlin was allowed to dress you in his dream walk. I’d dress you, even just once, in reality.”

“Okay.” I didn’t know what else to say. He handed me the garment, and it was softer than anything I’d ever touched except the jacket he’d given me. The fabric was fluid like Tencel but even lighter without being see-through. The dress had an empire waist and buttoned down the back, though with luck I’d be able to simply pull it on over my head. The scooped neck would show my cleavage to great advantage but probably leave the fabric tight enough to bounce a quarter off of since it didn’t seem to stretch. The length of the dress left it brushing the tops of my feet when I held it up to me. The shoes he handed me were soft, doe-colored ballet slippers but they were leather all around, no real soles. I accepted the clothes and was grateful to head into the bathroom and shut the door.

Both of these men were freaking gorgeous, but neither of them was attached. Problem number one—why didn’t they already have women in their lives?

Both had maneuvered themselves close to me from the beginning. Problem number two—what did they hope to gain by being close to me and to this investigation?

Both of them had stuck around after I’d been wounded. Problem number three—who were they trying to protect me from and why hadn’t they owned up to the truth about it?

And finally, neither had answered the biggest question I wanted to know but was afraid to ask. Problem number four—had either of them been the man at the stone circle four nights ago who had watched me drive away?

I turned on the shower and adjusted the water temperature to hot and just this side of scalding. I felt grungy from not having bathed since that first night at the hotel. The shower was divine, and I scrubbed until my skin was pink and glowing. I stepped out of the shower and toweled off, running the problems through my head over and over, then tried combining the problems I had with the men with the limited facts I had from the case. No clear picture emerged on either front. I left it alone for the moment. Compartmentalization at its best.

I dressed, did the best I could with my hair, then stepped out into the bedroom. Both men stared at me like I had something on my face. I ran my hands down the front of the dress and their gazes followed my hands. I stopped. So did their collective gazes. The back of my neck felt hot, and I wondered what the hell they were staring at.

“You, Maddy, we’re staring at you,” Bahlin said.

“How did you know what I was thinking?” I shifted from foot to foot, suddenly uncomfortable.

“I didn’t. Your discomfort is all over your face. It isn’t hard to put the pieces together.” He stood up and backed away from me, side-stepping down the wall toward the door in the face of my unfolding temper. He apparently remembered my right hook.

Tarrek had walked up behind me. He laid a hand on my shoulder and I jumped, turning to face him. “Why have you dressed me like a doll? I need work clothes, not a party dress,” I whispered in a hard voice. I was tugging at my hair again, agitated.

He dropped his hand and eyed me coolly. “You’ll meet both my parents, who are king and queen, as well as the High Council tonight. The Council has been summoned to the sithen as a whole for the first time in recorded history in an effort to make your life a little easier. You need to dress the part of the Niteclif for formal events, which this is. You can’t meet the Council in jeans and a T-shirt.” His voice rose slightly as if he were having a hard time not yelling.

“I have already met some of you in jeans and a T-shirt,” I snarled. Then I thought about what he said. This was a formal event. I needed to look the part.

I took a deep breath, and they apparently thought I was going to argue because Bahlin sighed and said, “For the love, Maddy, shut your trap before you dig a deeper hole for yourself.”

I stood there gaping at him, then burst out laughing. No one had ever said that to me before. In fact, no one had ever spoken to me as harshly as he just had. Of course, I didn’t think I’d ever behaved so ungratefully before so it hadn’t ever been necessary. I walked up to Bahlin and tugged his hand downward. He bent slightly, not sure whether to trust me or prepare to defend himself. And he was a dragon. Ha. I kissed his cheek. Then I turned and did the same to Tarrek. Apologies were hard when you were on the delivery side of things, but I was ashamed of my behavior.

“I’m sorry, honestly.” How could I explain my fear and insecurities to two supernatural creatures without appearing weak? They looked at me expectantly and I caved, sticking to the apology and holding my worries hostage in my mind. “I’ve been a little nutso since all this started after I left the stone circle. It’s made me a bit, well. A bit something. Unpleasant? Seems some of what I’ve inherited as the Niteclif is a wicked temper and a sharp tongue. I’ll try to be better.”

“It’s only been four days, Madeleine…Maddy,” Tarrek said, correcting himself and surprising me. “You’re doing remarkably well. I think we’re all a bit on edge, or nutso as you so delicately put it.”

Bahlin hung back a bit, not trusting my radical mood swings or, apparently, my apology. While I was sincere, I couldn’t blame him.

“Look, Bahlin, I’m sorry. Really, I am. It’s only that it’s all so new and I’m not handling it entirely well, especially internally, despite how things appear.” I smiled up at Tarrek. “The voices in my head have yet to quit screaming and for the love of Pete, I was shot then poisoned. Can’t a girl catch a break?”

“Who’s Pete?” Tarrek asked.

I burst out laughing and suddenly Bahlin joined me.

“Faerie, you’ve made my day. Let’s go greet the High Council.” He turned toward me and held out his arm in a courtly manner. “Fair lady?”

I walked toward him, working very hard to appear graceful. I took his arm and he smiled down at me. All appeared to be forgiven, if not forgotten.

“Tarrek?” Bahlin asked. “You’ll need to lead us to the others. We’re not familiar with where we’re going in your catacombs.”

“The sithen is not a catacomb any more than it is a place for the unwelcome visitor, Bahlin. You will do well to remember that.” Tarrek stalked forward and offered me his arm on my available side. To keep the peace, and because I couldn’t help but wallow in a little female satisfaction at being put between two such unearthly, stunning creatures, I took his arm. Oh, there was some fear there, don’t be mistaken. But I was the Niteclif, and we don’t cop to fear too easily…out loud, anyway.

We walked out of the room with Tarrek still muttering, “I still don’t understand. Who is Pete?” and Bahlin and I trying our best not to goad the faerie with our suppressed laughter.



The two men led me out of the room, with Tarrek slightly in front as we went through the doorway. The minute we stepped out of the bedroom Tarrek’s guard fell in around us, three to the front, three to the back, and one next to Tarrek. Bahlin’s side was left unprotected. The hallways were more than wide enough to accommodate the four of us as we walked toward our destination. The same lighting seemed to be present throughout the sithen, as if there were another sun that shone solely for the benefit of Faerie. With every step down the hallway, my stomach seemed to get tighter and tighter. I might be the Niteclif but I was human, and I had a feeling that nothing else I would meet tonight would be.

The guards seemed to know where we were going without any need for direction, so it felt as if we were swept along in the tide of leather and weapons as we moved toward our destination. Bahlin’s arm tensed under my hand and I felt his anxiety. Maybe some of his stress compounded mine? I don’t know, I only know I felt it through every fiber and nerve ending in my body. Hold it together, I thought to myself. Now’s not the time to make your insecurities public. Deep breaths, straight back, one foot in front of the other, Niteclif.

“Maddy?” Tarrek looked at me. “There’s nothing to fear tonight.”

“How do you know I’m afraid?”

“You’re going to draw blood with what’s left of your fingernails if you don’t relax your grip on my arm at least a little.” He was compassionate in his words, but I could tell he meant it. I looked down and realized he was right.

“Sorry,” I said, and attempted to draw my hand away from his forearm.

“I didn’t ask you to let go of me, only to relax your grip.” He looked over my head at Bahlin, who stared back.

“Of course,” I muttered. I wondered what the guards thought of my miraculous recovery. I was shot, now not. A human up out of bed so quickly would bring questions, and there were only so many answers that were logical.

“Uh, Tarrek? What will we tell people who ask about my speed in healing?” I whispered.

“Not to worry, Maddy.” Tarrek squeezed my hand then looked around at his guards. “My closest men are trustworthy and discreet. They’ll have a good idea how the healing occurred, but none will share the speculation with anyone outside my contingent.”

I wondered about that, because he’d had absolute faith in Maddox too. And that hadn’t turned out so well for me.

Bahlin snorted, apparently as concerned as I was at Tarrek’s blind trust of his people. I squeezed his arm, hard, and he looked down at me. His eyes glittered in the muted light and it was disconcerting. There shouldn’t have been enough light for that type of reflection. He continued to stare at me, and I stared back until Tarrek cleared his throat.

“We’ve arrived,” Tarrek said. And the guards drew open the huge wooden doors. Showtime.



The room we were led into was cavernous. Carved out of the subterranean stone and floored with the continuing theme of marble, the room was structured like a Roman amphitheater. Hopefully the entertainment venue wouldn’t be the same. Seats and tables went up three sides, the seats filled with what I could only assume were the residents of the sithen. I was surprised at the number of fae, which I estimated to be around two thousand. Who knew? As Bahlin walked in I heard the murmur, “Dragon!” and “Niteclif!” over and over so that it sounded like wind speaking through the dry leaves of a tree: soft, whispering, persistent. Bahlin never visibly faltered, and I did my best to follow his lead.

Deep breaths, I reminded myself.

Straight across from the great doors was a huge dais, and on it were two thrones made of giant carved tree trunks polished to a glass-like shine. Jewels were set in recess into the wood and the value of each had to be enough that it could have provided Greece’s financial bailout several times over. The thrones were empty. Across the floor of the amphitheater and in front of the thrones, a large table had been set up and covered with a diaphanous cloth. Refreshments sat scattered across the table, but I couldn’t have told you what was on the menu. I was too absorbed with the beings sitting behind the table to notice.

Sitting at the center of the table was one of the most imposing men I’d ever seen. It was hard to tell how tall he was because he was seated, but his upper half was impressive. He was well muscled like a Mac truck is large, and his skin was very lightly tanned as if he worked in a garden regularly. His hair hung down to the middle of his back and was that blond that’s graced with darker and lighter colors. His eyes were pitch black, like his pupils had eaten the iris and left nothing behind. It was scary as hell. The power radiating off of him made me stop in my tracks, causing the others around me to stop awkwardly. There was a shift somewhere inside me and I felt like my soul reached out to him, as if we’d somehow known each other before, yet this had to be our first meeting. I would have remembered him, if not for the fact that his eyes scared me then surely because I inexplicably yearned for him from somewhere deep inside.

“Hellion, that’s enough,” said a soft, rich voice, thus breaking the spell. My eyes shifted over to the left, and I was suddenly looking at one of the most striking women I’d ever seen. I could tell that she was petite even though she was sitting, but she was no wallflower. Her hair was as dark as Hellion’s was light, her eyes equally dark, and she had the same mild tan he had. Her power was immense. It felt like a weight pressing against my whole body. I could tell she was holding it in check, almost as if she was waiting to see how I would respond to Hellion. I relaxed a bit, and felt the fingers of invasion in my mind. I thought, “No.” Just like that the mental door was shut. She smiled a genuine smile and revealed perfect white teeth. I wondered what these two were to each other. I looked up at Bahlin and raised my eyebrows in question.

“Mates,” Bahlin whispered. I didn’t think he was talking about them being best buddies, either.

“Who’s on the council?”

He squeezed my hand in warning and said, “Hellion is our Council member. He requested special permission to bring Gretta for this single meeting.” His implication was clear. She was a guest, and her crap wouldn’t be tolerated. Oh good.

“So it’s true,” she said. “We have a new Niteclif. And a woman, at that. Very good.”

Hellion looked at me with his soulless eyes and said, “You and Bahlin seem unnaturally close for such a short acquaintance. Is there anything you wish to disclose?” And with the word disclose I felt compelled to tell him everything that had happened. Before I could speak, I noticed that Gretta and Hellion had taken each others’ hands, presumably in an affectionate gesture unless you were attuned to the increase in metaphysical pressure in my head. I blindly reached for Bahlin’s hand and, just as I was about to spill all my secret suspicions right down to my guess at his shoe size, the pressure was relieved.

“Hellion, Gretta, that’s rude,” said Bahlin in an almost casual manner. His hand had tightened on mine to a point just this side of pain, and the pain seemed to have helped me think more clearly.

“She should be able to stop me, mentally, if she’s truly the Niteclif.”

That pissed me off. I had taken so much on faith in the last few days, been dragged into a world of make-believe without much explanation, been shot and then poisoned and here he was questioning me?

“I would think that my initial efforts would have counted toward convincing everyone. Apparently I’m wrong.” I dropped Bahlin’s hand and stepped forward, but he stopped my progress by dropping a heavy hand on my shoulder. “It only seems fair that if you’re going to increase the game by siphoning power off each other that I should be able to use what defenses are available to me. Or do you two not play fair?”

Black Beauty arched her eyebrow at me but set her hands on top of the table. Hellion gave a lopsided grin, shrugging.

Tarrek laid a hand on my other shoulder and said, “Gretta, Hellion, this is Madeleine Niteclif, though she strongly prefers to go by Maddy.” No one else was bringing up my quick healing, so I left it alone. I wouldn’t have to answer questions that were never asked. Profound, that.

Gretta inclined her head toward me, ceding this round, I supposed. I caught a movement out of the corner of my eye and turned to look at the woman sitting to Hellion’s left. She smiled, and I noticed her canines were sharper than normal. Her skin was as pale as milk, and her hair was as dark as Tarrek’s. But her eyes were her most startling feature. Her eyes were the color of the Caribbean sea. I gasped, guessing immediately what flavor of the supernatural she was. Vampire. She was sitting at the table in a leather dress that left little to the imagination, looking more like fetish-wear and uncomfortable at that. She stood to offer me a hand, and I realized the dress was slit up to her waist on each side. I was instantly embarrassed, and Gretta and Hellion chuckled.

“You’ll have to get used to Imeena,” Hellion said, his voice deep and melodious. “She has her own sense of fashion, and it often involves as few pieces of clothing as possible.”

“It will likely take her as much time to get used to me as I’m remiss to express my fashion sense beyond jeans and a T-shirt.” I smiled.

Imeena smiled back. “You are kind to make no more of my aversion to boring clothing than it is, Niteclif.”

“So you believe in me?”

She let her head fall back, and her laughter sounded like sex and dark nights and mystery. “Oh, I do at that, precious girl,” she said. “I feel your heritage in my heart, for I knew your great-grandfather well. Therefore I will defer to your word as law. I will accept your rulings to be fair and just.” She inclined her head slightly at the last word, and I felt a shockwave ripple through me. Those were the same words that Tarrek had said at the restaurant four days ago when he affirmed me.

“And that is enough then, isn’t it? Because our two fair brethren have already made up their minds.”

I looked at Bahlin, and he sighed. “I’ve yet to affirm her.” He turned and looked at me. “If I say the words, Maddy, it’s done. There’s no going back because it will be a High Council majority. What would you have me do?”

“Aren’t we missing someone?” I asked, counting through them again. Bahlin, Tarrek, Hellion, Imeena—yep, four.

“Sarenia is not here, but we have enough for a majority.”

I thought about it. I had already begun to sense a difference in my thought process, more logical and less influenced by the ordinary. I knew, deep down, that my genealogy was true and that I was a descendant of the greatest sleuth of all time. The biggest shift was realizing he’d been real, not fiction. But I had to accept it. I’d gone from a mild-mannered, out of work copyeditor to a shot-up detective in a matter of days. Nothing like this happened to “normal” people, or mundies. I realized that there really was no backing out at this point.

“It’s okay, Bahlin. I don’t know if I believe this is my legacy, but it’s where I’m at and I’m responsible for it. It began five nights ago with my own wish, and I think it has too much momentum to stop it now. Affirm me so we can get on with this.” I felt a hand run down the back of my hair, and I turned my face toward Tarrek. He was like the night amid all this white stone and marble, though I knew he was a creature of light and life. But he looked so sad.

“I’m sorry, Madeleine. I would go back and stop this from being set in motion if I could.”

“No, Tarrek. No apologies, okay? My dad used to always say that you ended up where you were supposed to be. So I’m here. And it’s all right.” I bumped his shoulder with my forehead. “Besides, I’ll fake it ’til I make it, right?”

“Or until you are killed,” said Gretta.

Oh good. An optimist. I looked at her and said, “No need to be threatened by a mundane like me, Gretta. Not if you’re the real deal.”

She scowled. “The real deal? What do you think I am?”

“A witch.” Ah, so many connotations came to mind, but I actually meant the literal translation, even if I did say it with a little forcefulness.

Gretta’s smile was just as snarky as my response in that it held worlds unsaid. “Very good, little Niteclif. Very good. I suppose how we proceed depends on Bahlin, then.”

All eyes turned to him, and we waited. His gaze shifted to me and me alone. The amphitheater may as well have been empty.

In a voice resonating with leashed power, Bahlin’s voice rang out over the silent amphitheater. “I will defer to your word as law. I will accept your rulings to be fair and just.”

It was done.