When he‘d finally learned to satisfy his base requirements, he made a startling discovery: His new form felt more than mere need. The ennui and dispassion of immortality began to melt away. The fear of death awakened unexpected facets of his nature. Emotion stirred in him sensations that being Fae never had and never could. Madness was replaced for a time by sheer lust, but finally his head had cleared. His existence under control, he began to seek power on the human plane, pursuing his agenda.
Fae knowledge and hundreds of thousands of years of existing had given him a distinct advantage. He knew where to look for the things he wanted and how to use them when he found them.
He‘d discovered two of the Silvers at an auction house in London, risked Cruce‘s terrible curse, and found his way into Unseelie, where he‘d made a pact with the mercenary Hunters to help him regain what was rightfully his and had been wrongfully taken from him: his essential Fae nature.
He trained with a warlock in London, from whom he stole precious copies of pages torn from the Sinsar Dubh, which he‘d then traded to Barrons in exchange for a crash course in the Druid arts at which Darroc had excelled, gifted as he was with Fae intellect and understanding of the cosmos.
―Why didn‘t Barrons just take the pages from you?‖
―We pursued a common agenda for a time. He doesn‘t kill anyone he thinks might prove useful in the future.‖
Mercenary to the core. Sounded like the man I knew. ―What is he?‖
―Consider instead what he is not. He is not the one that hunted me down for what I did to you. Doesn‘t that tell you enough, MacKayla? You are a tool to him. His tool works again. He is satisfied.‖
―How did pages get torn from the Sinsar Dubh?” I changed the subject swiftly. If I ignored the knife he‘d just driven through my heart, maybe it would go away.
He shrugged. He had no idea. They‘d served their purpose. Now he needed the real thing. He‘d continued collecting power wherever it could be found. The Hunters taught him to eat lesser Unseelie, to protect his fragile mortal existence.
―Why would they help you?‖
―I promised them freedom. And I gave it to them.‖ He was an Unseelie hero, he told me, and soon the Seelie would recognize him as such, too. Yes, he had disobeyed his queen. So had many others, who‘d never been punished so harshly. Had the crime he‘d committed merited a death sentence? There were other Seelie who felt as he did, who wanted a return to the Old Ways. His only crime had been trying to bring about what many of them secretly longed for. He should have been rewarded for standing up for his brethren. Even humans resisted doling out such a horrific punishment, and their blink-of-an-eye lives were so comically short they were worthless. He‘d lost eternity, for a single broken rule. He wanted it back. Was that so wrong?
I made a hand gesture when he paused.
―I have not seen that one before,‖ he said.
―Miniature record player, playing ?My Heart Bleeds for You.‘ I should care about this why? You made me Pri-ya.” I narrowed my eyes, studying him. Had he been the fourth? Had this monster touched me?
“You made you Pri-ya. I gave you other options. You refused them.‖
―Do you really think the Unseelie will continue to obey you now that they‘re no longer imprisoned?‖
―I freed them. I am their king now.‖
―So, what‘s keeping one of them from killing you and going after the Book, himself?‖
―They‘re too drunk on freedom to see beyond the moment. They feast. They fuck. They don‘t think.‖
―You never know. One of them might snap out of it. Rulers get toppled all the time. Look at what you were trying to do to your queen.‖
―I have Cruce‘s amulet. They fear it.‖
―How long do you expect that to last? You‘re not even Fae.‖
―I will be again, as soon as I get the Book.‖
―Assuming one of them doesn‘t kill you first.‖
He waved a dismissive hand. ―The Unseelie do not wish to rule. After an eternity in hell they wish only to be free to indulge their hungers.‖ His face went hard and cold as marble. ―But I will not explain my race to a mere human.‖
At that moment, I could clearly see the icy, imperious Fae he‘d once been and would be again, given half a chance. He claimed to have been changed by his experience with mortality. If, indeed he had—and there was plenty of doubt in my mind on that score—I could too easily see him changing back, in a heartbeat. ―You‘re pretty ?mere‘ yourself right now, bud. Cannibalizing your own race. I‘ve heard the Seelie court has a special, horrific punishment for that.‖
―Then you‘d better hope they don‘t find out about you, Mac -Kayla,‖ he said coolly. We stared at each other a long moment, then he tossed his long hair and flashed me a smile meant to charm. In another time and place, had I not known who and what he was, it probably would have worked. He was a beautiful, cultured, powerful man, and the jagged scar on his face made him all the more intriguing. I imagined Alina must have found him utterly fascinating when they‘d first met. There wasn‘t anything remotely like him in Ashford, Georgia. As if he‘d somehow picked up on my thoughts of her, he said, ―I came to Dublin because I learned the Sinsar Dubh had been sighted in the city. That was when I met your sister.‖
I went still inside. I wanted to hear about Alina, even if it came from him. I was starved to know about my sister‘s last days.
―How did you meet?‖
He‘d walked into a pub where she was sitting with friends. She looked up, and he felt as if everyone else in the bar had melted away, just vanished into the background, leaving only him and her. She‘d later told him she felt the same thing.
They‘d spent the afternoon together. And the night. And the next and the next. They‘d been inseparable. He discovered she wasn‘t like other humans, that she, too, was struggling with a new state of being she didn‘t understand and had no idea how to handle. They learned together. He‘d found an ally in his quest for the Book, in his quest to restore his Fae nature. They‘d been fated for each other.
―You lied to her. You pretended you were a sidhe-seer,‖ I accused. ―She‘d never have helped you otherwise.‖
―So you say. I think she might have. But she was skittish, and I was unwilling to take chances. She made me feel things I did not understand. I made her feel things she‘d longed for all her life. I set her free. The way she laughed.‖ He paused, and a faint smile curved his mouth. ―When she laughed, people would turn to stare. It was so … Humans have a word. Joy. Your sister knew it.‖
I hated him for having heard her laugh, for knowing she knew joy, for ever having touched her, this monster who‘d arranged to have me raped, body and soul, and my eyes must have burned with it, because his smile faded.
―I told you the truth. I did not kill her, which means someone else walking around out there did. You are so certain I‘m the villain. What if your real villain is closer to you than you think?‖
―I‘m going to bottom-line this again: You made me Pri-ya.” I spat, then fished. ―You set four Unseelie Princes on me.‖
―Three.‖
I stared. I knew there‘d been a fourth. “You were the fourth?‖
―That would have served no purpose. I am not Fae at the moment.‖
―Then who was the fourth?‖ My hands fisted in my lap. Being raped was bad enough. Being raped and not knowing if your fourth rapist was someone you knew was even worse.
―There was no fourth.‖
―Not believing a word you say.‖
―The fourth Unseelie Prince was killed hundreds of thousands of years ago, in battle between the queen and king. That child” —he shot a glance out the window—―killed another when I tried to reclaim you at the abbey.‖
A memory from my fractured state of consciousness surfaced sharply: Lying on the cold stone floor, believing salvation was at hand. A flame-haired warrior. A sword. I remembered. It was a shameful memory. I‘d wanted to kill Dani for killing my ―master.‖ And I was still mad at Dani for killing the prince—but for an entirely different reason: I wanted to be the one to kill the bastards.
―The princes want revenge. They want me to let them have her. They are mine to command.‖
I stared at him, not missing the threat but still trying to digest that there was no fourth prince. How could the LM not have known a fourth was there? Was there a fourth, or had I imagined it?
―What has Barrons tried to make of you, MacKayla? And V‘lane? A tool for their purposes. They‘re no different than me. My methods have merely been more direct. And more directly effective. Everyone is trying to use you.‖ He glanced out the window. ―If not for her interference, I would have succeeded. I would have had the Sinsar Dubh by now and been back in Faery.‖
―Leaving our world a complete mess.‖
―What do you think Barrons would do? Or V‘lane?‖
―At least try to put the walls back up.‖
―You‘re so certain?‖
―You‘re just trying to make me doubt everyone.‖
―If you obtain the Sinsar Dubh for me, MacKayla, I will reclaim the Unseelie and restore order to your world.‖
Not a word in there about restoring the walls. ―And give me my sister back?‖ I said dryly.
―If you wish. Or you may come visit us in Faery.‖
―Not funny.‖