She puts a hand on my arm. "You catch more flies with honey than vinegar, Fen. Didn't anyone ever teach you that?"
She's already walking towards the stables, and I jog to catch up, grumbling under my breath about flies. Who needs flies anyways?
Chapter 8
SEALED IN BLOOD
––––––––
"You've never seen me fight."
—Fenris Vane
I can hear Fen mumbling his complaints. I ignore them. Olga had little to say about her master, but her silence told me enough. Fen's servants respect him, but they don't care for him. I see it in the way they stare at him when he's not looking, at the way they avert their gaze under his glare. Most of them are Fae. Slaves. It makes me want to hate Fen and his brothers. But, somehow, I don't.
I don't hate him. I find him frustrating and exasperating, but also... fascinating. There is a kind heart in there somewhere. I saw it last night when he let me sleep in his room, though I could tell he didn't want me to. I saw it the night he saved me back in my world, and then stayed all night watching movies with me. I see it in the way he treats Baron, and in the way he cares about his brothers.
There's good in him. I just need to nudge it out. Help him show these people he actually does care about them and their welfare.
When we arrive at the stables behind the castle, two horses are already prepared for us. This might be a good time to admit to Fen that I've never ridden a horse before. But I'm afraid he'll make me stay behind, so I don't tell him. I just watch as he mounts and try to copy what he does. I've seen movies. I know the gist. It can't be that hard, right?
My horse is beautiful. She's black with a white marking on her forehead, and her eyes stare at me with such wisdom. I do manage to make it onto her without falling on my ass. I pat my horse's neck. "What's her name?" I ask the stable master.
She's a stout woman with pointy ears and long sand colored hair that pulls into a tail at the base of her neck. Her face is wide and leathery and she looks like she's been living with these horses for all of eternity. "She's Diamond, and she should serve you well, Your Highness. The Prince picked her out for you himself."
I look over at Fen, surprised. "You did?"
He grunts. "I knew you would need something on which to get around."
"Thank you. She's amazing."
The stable master nods with approval. "That she is. She'll treat you good if you do her right."
Baron follows us as we walk our horses for a bit. I think I'm getting the hang of it, but I'm nervous that if Diamond starts to trot or run I'll lose control.
"I'm surprised the horses aren't spooked by Baron," I say, pulling Diamond up to the side of Fen and his horse.
"They've become acclimated to him, and he to them. It's an uneasy alliance, but it works." He takes us down to a dirt road and turns to me. "Are you ready to run? We need to get there fast."
I swallow, regretting my decision not to tell him about my lack of experience. But it's too late now. "Sure, let's do it."
He grins and makes a clicking sound, gently nudging his horse on the side. He picks up speed, so I copy him and Diamond begins to trot, then run. I grip her body with my knees, my knuckles holding on to the leather strap so hard I fear I'll break it. But I don't fall off. We ride fast down the path and through the woods until I begin to hear the sounds of people. Fen slows to a trot, then a walk as we reach a lumberyard. An area of trees has been cleared and piles of trunks line the grass. A machine that reminds me of a giant pizza cutter sits in the center, covered in black smoke. Men are scattered throughout the clearing, talking, pacing, drinking. Not working. There are no women, which I find odd. In fact, there are only male vampires, from what I can tell. Not a Fae or Shade amongst them.
They all turn in unison to face us, and I try not to embarrass myself as I dismount Diamond. "Thanks girl," I whisper into her ear. "You made me look good. I owe you a treat when we get back."
Fen, who apparently overheard me, gives me a lopsided grin and hands me an apple. I hold it out to Diamond, who wraps her large, soft horse lips around it and chomps it up.
A big, brawny man in flannel with a bushy red beard stomps up to Fen, two men flanking him. He's frowning. "We're done!" he says. "No man can work in conditions like this."
Fen crosses his arms over his chest. "You're not exactly men, are you?"
The man glares. "No demon neither."
"Where is Henrick?" Fen asks.
"I'm over here, Sir."
We both turn in the direction of the voice. Henrick lies on a wooden table under a tarp, his leg propped up and bandaged. His hair is blue and a black tattoo covers half his neck. Fen strides over to him. "What happened?"
"The wood cutter jammed. When I tried to clear it, the damn thing exploded on me. My leg is pretty ripped up."
"We'll get you patched up." Fen signals to several of the men standing around. "Take him to Navia in Stonehill. Tell her I sent you. He's to receive the best care, understood?"