The Darkest Craving

CHAPTER TWELVE



A HAZE OF early-morning sunlight filled Kane’s bedroom, chasing away the shadows.

As he shook off the horrors of another nightmare, a sense of excitement rose.

Last night, his attempts to talk to Tink had failed. He’d spied her in the throne room—but she’d disappeared behind a door the moment he’d approached her. He’d found her in the weaving room—but she’d pulled another disappearing act. He’d snuck up on her in the garden—but she’d wiggled from his hold and run away.

Today, though, she couldn’t do any running. According to the king, she had to stay by her sister’s side. Which meant she would be within Kane’s reach at all times.

A lamp toppled from the nightstand and smashed into his skull.

He scowled.

A knock sounded at the bedroom door.

Kane rose from the bed, stalked over and, with a dagger in hand, opened the obstruction. Prince Leopold stood before him, relaxed, utterly confident Kane would behave himself.

Foolish prince. Kane had a serious beef with the male. Not because of his taunts the day they’d met, but because he’d flattened his hand against Tink’s lower back while gazing at her with desire in his eyes. It had startled Kane. He’d thought he was misreading. But Disaster had snickered, seeing something Kane could not, something in the spirit realm in which he existed, perhaps. A dark cloud of lust? Another demon, sitting on Leopold’s shoulder, driving his actions? Kane had heard the Sent Ones talking about such an occurrence.

In the end, the reason didn’t matter. Results did.

“What?” Kane snapped, fingers tightening on the hilt.

Regal features darkened. “The princess is ready for your excursion. I’ll escort you to her, and accompany you into town, keeping everyone safe.”

Kane knew the Phoenix had taken off for the forest; he’d seen the little fires they’d left here and there. So far, though, the Fae had had no luck catching one or even engaging in any kind of battle.

Petra had to be the leader. She wanted Tink, and would stop at nothing to have her.

Well, Kane would stop at nothing to protect her.

“And the servant?” he asked.

“You’ll ignore.”

So not happening, dude.

“Or you’ll suffer,” the prince added. “The things I’ll do to you...”

“Understood.” Kane forced a smile. “Lead the way.”

The prince turned his back, just as confident as before, and Kane sheathed the blade. He stayed close to the male’s heels, conscious of his every step.

“You don’t think you’ll need guards while you’re with me?” Kane asked.

A smug laugh rolled from him—the same one Kane had heard at their first meeting. “Hardly. One word, and I can have you on your knees.”

They pounded down a winding flight of stairs, then another and another. When they reached the bottom floor, and neared a door leading into a storage closet, Kane forcibly bumped the man in the shoulder, sending him crashing into the wall.

Before the prince had time to react, Kane punched him in the throat, cutting off his airway, and pinched his carotid, stopping the flow of blood to his brain. In seconds, the prince was crumpled on the floor, unconscious.

“Got anything to say now?” he muttered.

A maid turned the corner, spotted them and ground to a halt. She gasped, her hand fluttering to her heart.

“He’s fine. Just napping,” Kane said. “He’ll wake up.” Eventually. “Don’t disturb him. You know how cranky he can get when he goes without his beauty Z’s.”

She nodded, wide-eyed, and hurried away.

He opened the storage closet, and dragged the prince to the center. Then, he rigged the lock, ensuring no one would be able to enter without force.

Mission accomplished.

Kane kicked back into gear. He’d memorized the layout of the entire palace, had secretly peeked through every door, and knew the front entrance was just around the corner. As promised, the princess and Tink were waiting.

Anger returned full force as he looked them over. Synda was decked out in a crimson-colored velvet ball gown, the material feminine and flattering. Tink was stuck wearing some kind of cheap, ill-fitting dress that left pink scratches on her beautiful skin.

A frilly hat with ribbons perched on Synda’s head.

Tink was without a hat, her hair pulled into a severe bun at the back of her neck.

Synda smelled of floral perfume.

Tink smelled of pungent floor cleaner.

His hands fisted. He wanted to kill someone. He wanted to hug Tink and never let go.

Synda smiled when she spotted him, skipped over and planted a kiss directly on his lips. He stood still and stiff, not wanting to deal with another outburst. His gaze immediately sought Tink. Her eyes were downcast.

“Where’s Prince Leopold?” Synda asked, oblivious.

“He’s sleeping. We should go.”

“Sleeping? Even though he was awake five minutes ago?” Tink asked. Then she looked at Synda, and pressed her lips together.

What? She wasn’t allowed to talk on this little excursion?

His knuckles nearly burst out of his skin, so tightly did he squeeze his fingers into a fist. “Yes. Sleeping.”

A dog came racing around the corner. The creature made a beeline for Tink, and the demon laughed, assuring Kane he was responsible. Kane jolted forward, sticking his leg in the path of wrath. Sharp teeth sank into his ankle, stinging.

“I’m so sorry,” a servant said, chasing after the dog. “I don’t know how he got away from me.”

With as gentle a tug as he could manage, Kane ripped the creature’s canines from his bone and handed him over.

“Come on, everyone,” Synda said cheerfully, skipping through the double doors held open by two guards. “I’ve been waiting days and days for this.”

Days. When it had only been mentioned yesterday.

Tink followed after her, and Kane followed after Tink. The sun was shining, though it was a muted and murky version of the one he was used to, the sky gray with threads of black rather than blue, as if a storm brewed. There was a high, transparent wall surrounding the palace, glittering brightly, and behind it, a lush green forest. Much of the military forces were still out there, chasing the Phoenix.

A cobblestone path led to a horse-drawn carriage. And there were other carriages on the road, he saw. Three that he could see up-close, and two in the distance, slowly closing in. In the three up-close perched females dressed as fancily as Synda, each peering at him with abject longing.

“Isn’t he gorgeous?” Synda called with pride. “He’s mine.”

Kane almost snapped a denial. He reached the carriage first, and hefted the princess inside. She braced her hands on his shoulders, and he had to grit his teeth against the horror of the contact.

Hands...all over him. Caressing him, scratching him.

Breathe. He had to breathe.

A punishment for his distaste of the girl, he supposed, the demon lashing out.

Next was Tink. He unfolded his fingers, revealing his palm. She hesitated a moment before placing her gloved fingers against his. As expected, there was a lance of pain, though it was lighter than usual, but...his mind was fine. The terrible memories retreated, Disaster unable to drudge them back up. Why?

Because, as Kane had realized in the forest, she was his light? Maybe. The memories were his darkness, and darkness had to flee in the presence of light.

Even after she’d sat down, he maintained contact, lingering, marveling, once again fighting an inexplicable need only she was able to stir.

“Kane,” she said, her voice taut, and he forced himself to release her. He climbed inside the carriage. One girl was on the left, one on the right. Embracing the chance to touch Tink again, he picked her up by the waist. So delicate. So feminine. Her gasp of surprise fanned over his skin as he set her beside her sister. Then, he settled into the other bench on his own, now able to watch both females.

“You look pretty today,” Synda said to Tink. And astonishingly enough, she sounded sincere.

This must be one of her sweet moments. Never had he met a person who could change moods so quickly—and he was counting himself. But then, Synda hadn’t yet learned to fight the demon inside her. Darkness drove her. Urges came, and she gave in without stopping to analyze the wisdom of her actions. Emotions came, and she never tried to look past them to the reasons behind them.

She needed help, but she didn’t want it—last night, at dinner, he’d offered and she’d declined.

“I want your body, Lord Kane, not your mind,” she’d said.

He’d shrugged. And yeah, he felt a little guilty about his lack of concern for her. She might just be his destined mate.

No. Impossible. Kane must have misunderstood what the Moirai had said. And what about the prediction William had mentioned? His daughter, White, wedding the man destined to start an apocalypse.

Kane didn’t even want a mate. He wanted...he needed...yeah, some part of him wanted and needed a mate.

For the first time in centuries, he had a reason to hope. He’d watched his friends fall in love, and that love had strengthened them. They’d overcome centuries-old rages and self-loathing simply to become the men their women needed. What if Kane’s mate could help him defeat Disaster? What if she was the key?

The right girl could calm him, soothe him. The right girl mattered. But again, who was the right girl?

The princess, who carried Irresponsibility? Tink, who had spent time in the Never-ending? Or White? The wrong choice could torment him as much as the demon.

What he felt toward Synda was anger and pity.

She didn’t make him want to live, just to be with her.

She didn’t make him forget the trials of his past.

She didn’t make him long for something better.

What he felt toward Tink was...powerful.

She made him eager to achieve his goals.

She made him ache, in body and in soul.

She made him smile.

So, yeah, when he next had sex, it would be with Tink.

When? Whoa.

Had he seriously just thought the word when in conjunction with sex? He’d promised himself he wouldn’t go there with Tink. He would only disappoint her. He would ruin her innocence. Now, he considered her a foregone conclusion?

“You can speak,” Synda was saying to her. “I won’t tell Daddy. Swear.”

“You had better speak,” Kane reiterated. He wouldn’t be able to endure this little jaunt otherwise. “I’ll make sure no blame is cast your way.”

The buggy jolted forward, but Tink remained quiet.

A few minutes later, Synda stood up and said, “Oh, look. There’s the Twenty-fifth,” nearly tumbling out the side of the vehicle. “Hey, Aos Sí Caroline! Look at—hmph.”

Kane grabbed her hand and forced her back into her seat. “Stay,” he commanded. “Don’t move.”

The princess crossed her arms over her middle and pouted. “You’re no fun.”

“I’m devastated you think so. Now, tell me why you called that woman by a number, and what ees-shee means.”

Upset forgotten, Synda giggled like a schoolgirl. “Twenty-five is her number, silly, and Aos Sí is her title.”

Vapid does not even begin to describe. He looked to Tink.

After a lengthy pause, she drew in a deep breath and said, “Every Opulen outside the royal family bears a number. Caroline is twenty-fifth in line for the throne, meaning, she’s the twenty-fifth member of the high court. There are fifty members. All others are part of the lower court, and without a number.”

Was nothing more important than status to the Fae? “And the title?”

“The literal translation of Aos Sí is her people. Every female in the upper class bears such a title. The males are referred to as Daoine Sídhe.”

Good to know. “What’s your number and title?”

Red stained her cheeks; she clamped her lips shut.

“She isn’t an Opulen,” Synda said matter-of-factly.

So...she didn’t have a number or a title. He didn’t like that.

He spent the rest of the fifteen-minute ride drilling the girls with questions. How often had the throne changed hands? Answer: eight times in the history of the Fae. How had the past kings died? Answer: murdered by their successors. Had the race ever been without a king? Answer: never.

The exchange ended when the carriage stopped in front of the first shop in a row of shops. The buildings were comprised of dark stone and some kind of glittery material, with crystal roofs and windows surrounded by ivy, reminding him of something out of a fairy tale.

And...was that William the Panty Melter entering the shop at the end of the street? The...Devil’s Punchbowl, was the name, and it was clearly a tavern.

Kane popped to his feet. “I’ve spotted our first stop,” he said.

He helped the women exit the buggy, cringed against the memories Synda’s touch caused, marveled anew at the mental peace Tink’s wrought, and surged forward. When Synda tried to enter a shoe store, he dragged her away.

“But...” she began.

“The tavern first,” he said, and Synda stopped fighting.

“Why didn’t you say so? I’m always up for a good drink or twelve.”

“You can’t be serious, Kane,” Tink said with a groan. “It’s early morning and you want to get trashed? With the darling of the Fae? I’m going to be blamed for this, I just know it.”

“You’re not going to be blamed,” Kane said. He wouldn’t allow it. Not ever again.

He shouldered the doors open, and scanned the area. He spotted a dark-haired warrior sliding into a seat, claiming a handful of cards, and knew beyond any doubt. Yes, that was indeed William the Ever Randy.

Had he talked to Taliyah and followed Kane here?

One female and three males formed a circle around William. Kane recognized each. White, the female, and her brothers, Red, Black and Green. In hell, Red and Black had rescued him from Disaster’s minions, but rather than setting him free, they’d bound him, hoping to learn his secrets—whatever those were—then kill him to prevent him from hooking up with their sister. As long as they’d lived in hell, as many horrors as they’d seen, they’d come to hate demons with every fiber of their beings. It was a sentiment Kane shared. But they’d made the mistake of lumping him in the same category as Disaster and that he resented.

Then, of course, Green and White had found him and walked away, leaving him to his agony until Tink had found him.

He owed all four a little payback. With knives.

The five-person gang smoked cigars and drained shots of whiskey as they studied their cards. Synda tugged from Kane’s hold and skipped to the bar, where she ordered “my regular.” Tink remained by his side, unsure.

“What are you doing here?” Kane demanded.

“What else? You forced me!” she snapped.

“Not you, sweetheart.”

William glanced up, grinned and waved him over, not the least surprised to see him. “Kane, my boy. We’re playing hard. But not as hard as you, it seems. Two women? Really? I’m shocked Kanie the Prude can manage so much estrogen at the same time.”

White and her brothers looked over at him. In unison, the three guys pushed back their chairs and stood, glaring at him with murderous rage. White went back to studying her cards.

“Down,” William commanded easily. “Now isn’t the time for a battle royale.”

“When?” Red insisted.

“When I say so. I feel like finishing our game first.” Though William wore a T-shirt that read DADD: Dudes Against Daughters Dating, and it was difficult to take him seriously, the three obeyed without protest. But even still, Kane was never taken out of their cross hairs.

Black cracked his knuckles. “Today, demon, you die.”

He couldn’t help but grumble, “I wish you had rotted in hell, I really do.”

“I’m getting the impression he doesn’t like us,” White said, blowing out a puff of smoke. She flipped her cascade of pale hair over her shoulder. “I’m very okay with that.”

“What are you playing?” Synda asked, closing the distance and, without waiting for an invitation, plopping herself on Red’s lap.

Uncharacteristically patient, the dark-haired male with eyes of the cruelest blue settled her more comfortably against him and began to explain the game.

In that moment, Kane knew she couldn’t be the female for him, no matter that she was the keeper of Irresponsibility, and no matter what the Moirai had meant. He felt no sense of jealousy or possession.

Would there be consequences if she was the one and he blew her off? Maybe.

Did he care? No.

The woman in Danika’s painting had been blonde. White was also blonde, but while William’s daughter was lovely and strong, Kane absolutely despised her and that wasn’t going to change.

Tink, however, continued to interest him greatly. But if she was the one for him, why did he continue to ache when he neared her? And who was the blonde in the painting? What did she mean to him?

Kane pulled up a chair beside William, and forced Tink to sit in his lap. He wanted her nearby, wanted his hands on her to prevent her from running, and wanted to ensure every man knew to keep his grubby paws off her. The action ensured Kane received all three at once. Screw the pain, he thought. Yeah, it had bothered him less today, but now, he just flat-out didn’t care.

“How’d they get free of hell?” he asked, even as Disaster screamed a protest about the seating arrangement.

William shrugged his massive shoulders before tossing his cards on the table. He faced Kane. “I thought you could use a bit of help. You didn’t want your friends knowing what you were up to, so my own brood of vipers was my only option.”

“That tells me nothing.”

“Nor was it meant to. I sprang them early, and that’s all you need to know.”

“Fair enough. But answer me this. Why are you playing cards with them instead of helping me?”

Another shrug. “We heard about your engagement, and figured all was well.”

“You could have checked in.”

“Yeah. I could have, and I even thought about it. And it’s the thought that counts, right?”

“No. No, it’s not.”

William claimed a cigar from White, and took a drag. Smoke puffed around him as he said, “Clearly I have more faith in you than you have in yourself. You’re welcome.”

Ashes drifted from the cigar and should have fallen to the floor. Disaster ensured they fell on Kane’s arm and leg, burning little holes in his clothing and singeing his skin.

Tink pressed a hand against her heart. “That’s so sweet of you to say, sir. What a kind man you are.”

Kane looked at her and did a double take. She was serious, he realized, and she was gazing at William as if he were everything she’d ever wanted but had never really thought she could have. Razors of jealousy cut through Kane and calmed the demon.

“Did you hear stories about him, too?” he demanded.

“No. I can just tell you’re lucky to have a friend like him.”

“William’s not sweet,” he gritted. “I’ve seen the bloody results of his temper tantrums.”

“And I’ve heard of the bloody results of yours,” she quipped.

William beamed up at her. “I like you.”

“I’m glad, because I have a proposition for you,” she said to him.

“No, she doesn’t.” Kane squeezed her tight, silencing her.

“Go on. I’m listening,” William prompted.

“The night I left you in that club, I went looking for a key into Séduire,” Kane said before Tink could decide to talk over him. She was stubborn like that. “All the while, you clearly already had one.”

“Nah. I would have flashed here, but I had to buy one for my kiddies,” the warrior said.

“By buy he means steal,” Red said, not even bothering to look over at them. “And by steal I mean kill for.”

Stated so simply, it was a testament to the hardness of the warrior’s heart. To the savage lengths these men would go to get what they wanted. Bring it.

“Your kids—” even saying the word in conjunction with the powerful warrior felt odd “—were okay with coming here and helping me?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Grinning all over again, William waved the question away. “You heard the part about the battle royale, right? No, they weren’t okay with helping you. I had to promise they could have a real down and dirty brawl with you, with blood and broken bones and maybe missing body parts. It’s going to be great!”

Tink melted against Kane, as if trying to use her body as a shield to protect him. The scratchy material of her uniform irritated his exposed skin. How could she stand wearing that thing?

Every glass on the table shattered, liquid spilling, warriors cursing.

“When is this fight to take place?” Kane asked, unperturbed.

“Have you not been listening to anything I’ve said?” William dabbed at the wet stain on his leg. “After the game.”

He thought for a moment. “I would love nothing more than to engage your spawn in a showdown. Tink—uh, I mean, Josephina—and I will be back by the time your game is through.” He actually wanted to take her shopping more than he wanted his revenge. She wasn’t going to wear rags while everyone around her wore riches.

Anyone who didn’t know Kane might have thought he planned to run away. But William knew him better than that. “And Tink is what you call her? Really? I would have chosen Ivanna B. Withwilly. What? It’s a good, solid name.”

Can’t respond to that. Will just encourage him. “Meanwhile,” Kane gritted, “the princess is your responsibility. Don’t let her get into any trouble.”

William thought for a moment, nodded. “You do remember that I like to sleep with my responsibilities, right?”

Yeah. He did. “I also know you’ll be tempted to throw her to the wolves once you get to know her, but don’t harm her or let anyone else do so, either.” The king would protest, and Tink would be liable.

“So...you’re saying you won’t mind if I seduce your future wife?”

“I wouldn’t mind, but I don’t want you to go that far. She could get in trouble, and they’ll try to make Tink bear the punishment. So, feel free to flirt with her, even make out a little, if she wants, but no more than that.” Synda would be amused, and stay out of trouble.

Two birds, one kinky stone.

William placed a hand over his heart. “I think you just moved to the top of my best-friend-forever list.”

Kane rolled his eyes, stood, and held out his hand. “You got a revolver or semi I can borrow?”

“Borrow? No. Pay to use for a short time? Yes.” The warrior slapped a .44 in his hand. “I’ll let you know the price tag later.”

“Thanks.” Kane stashed the weapon at the back of his waist and ushered Tink out of the bar. Chairs scraped the ground, and he knew the three males, and maybe even White, had just stood, intending to come after him.

He heard William say, “Settle down. He’s coming back, and then he’s yours.”