Лорел Гамильтон - A Stroke Of Midnight

He flashed me a grin. “Sage has given a very full report to the court. I am willing to take blood while you have sex with others, in hopes that it will bring my wings.”

I shook my head. “Nicca may have been a special case.”

Royal gripped the hem of his tunic and lifted it off in one smooth movement, letting it drop to the floor. He was naked before me, miniature and perfect. He turned around, displaying a perfect tattoo of wings covering his back down to his upper thighs. The wings were almost black, with lines of charcoal running through them. The edges curled over his shoulders like the draping edge of a shawl. Bright scarlet and black graced his lower back and buttocks in soft curving stripes, like the ruffled edge of a petticoat.

He turned so that I could see that the black and scarlet was edged by a thin stripe of the dark, almost spots, cut with white, and a thin line of gold. That edging strip curved over the side of his hip, so that the sides of his hips were striped with color, too.

Nicca’s wings belonged to some long-lost moth. Something that had flown the skies of Europe more than a thousand years before. But I knew what had painted itself upon Royal’s skin.

“You’re an underwing moth, an Ilia Underwing.”

He looked back over his shoulder at me, smiling. “That’s one of the names humans use.” He seemed pleased that I’d known what his wings belonged to. His small face suddenly became very serious. “Do you know the other name for the Ilia?”

My pulse sped just a bit, which was silly. He was the size of a child’s toy. The heat in his eyes shouldn’t have had that strong an effect, but my mouth was dry and my voice just a little whispery. “The beloved underwing.”

“Yes,” he said. He started toward me, and if it hadn’t been silly, I would have backed up. A man that is shorter than my forearm couldn’t possibly have been intimidating, but he was.

Galen said softly at my shoulder, “He does know he’s not getting sex, right?”

“So it’s not just me who wants to back up a step.”

“No,” Galen said.

“You are very good,” Doyle said.

I looked at Doyle, but all his attention was on the little man. “What do you mean?” I asked.

“Glamour,” Doyle said.

“Are all the demi-fey as good at glamour as Sage and this one?” Rhys asked.

“Not all of them, but a great many, yes,” Doyle said.

Rhys shivered. “I am not sharing the bed with this one. Sage taught me my lesson, I don’t need another one.”

“You’re not on the menu for tonight, Rhys.”

“For once, I’m glad,” he said.

“Then who do I get to share you with?” Royal asked. As I looked down at him, the feeling of sex and intimidation became more intense.

“It’s stronger when I look at you.”

Royal nodded. “Because looking is all you’re doing. Now, who am I sharing you with tonight?”

Galen answered, “Me, but, truthfully, I’m not sure I can do it. I may have apologized for us, but I still don’t want them touching me.”

“You touch one of us right now,” Niceven said.

Galen glanced down at the still sleeping fey in his hand. “But that’s different,” he said.

“In what way is it different?” she asked.

“This one’s not scary.” He motioned his hand up toward Niceven.

Royal laughed, and it was like chimes in a happy wind. “And am I scary, green knight?”

I was close enough to see Galen’s pulse beating against the side of his throat. “Yes,” he said, and his voice sounded as dry as mine felt.

Royal’s laughter trailed away to something darker. “Such talk will turn a man’s head, green knight.” The look on his face showed just how pleased he was that Galen was afraid of him.

“Some glamour grows stronger with physical touch,” Adair said. He’d kept his helmet on.

“Are you asking if mine grows stronger, oak lord?” Royal asked.

“Speculating, not asking,” Adair said, as if to ask a question of a demi-fey was beneath him.

Well, Adair could be high-handed if he wished, but he wasn’t stripping down for the demi-fey. “Does your glamour grow stronger with physical touch?” I asked.

He grinned up at me. “It does.”

Galen whispered against my hair, “Can Nicca and you have this one? I’ll take the next one.”

I glanced back at him. “If you wish, yes.”

He sighed, and leaned his forehead against the top of my head. “Damn it, Merry.”

“What?” I asked.

“I can’t pass on the scary parts if you still have to do them. Are you sure you have to do this?”

“Don’t you want to know why Queen Niceven said that the Seelie Court might take you in if you offered them more power?”

“Yes,” he said, “yes, damn it.” He looked up at Niceven. “And she knew we’d want to know.”

“A spy is only as good as his information, green knight.”

“My name is Galen, please use it.”

“Why?”

“Because the only people who ever call me green knight tend to try to hurt me.”

She looked at him a moment, then gave a small bob in the air. “Very well, Galen. You have been truthful with me, so I will be truthful with you, but you will not find it comforting.”

“Truth seldom is,” he said. The tone in his voice made me hug his free arm around me.

“We feed not just on blood and magic.”

“You feed on fear,” Doyle said, and there was something about the flat way he said it that told me there was a story behind those few words.

“Yes, Darkness,” Niceven said, “as do many things here at the Unseelie Court.” She turned back to Galen and me. “I think the green… Galen will be a feast fit for a queen.”

“Then let’s begin the bargaining,” I said.

“We have struck our bargain, Princess.”

I shook my head. “No, the bargain about what Royal can do, and can’t do, in my bed and on my body.”

“Are we really such a fearsome thing that you have to bargain as closely with us as you would with the goblins?”

“You chastised me for treating you as less than the goblins, Queen Niceven. If I do not negotiate with you as I would the goblins, isn’t that just another kind of insult?”

She folded her arms under her small breasts. “You are not like the other sidhe, Meredith, you are always difficult, tricksy.”

“You would try and bat your tiny eyes at me, and have me think Royal and the rest of you are harmless? That you are the children’s storybook characters you ape? Oh no, Queen Niceven, you can’t have it both ways, not with me. You’re either dangerous or you’re not.”

She gave me a perfect child’s pout. “Do I look dangerous to you, Princess?” Her voice was wheedling, and for just a moment I felt like saying, “No, of course not.”

Galen gripped my arm tight, squeezing. It helped me think.

“I’ve seen your true face, Queen Niceven,” he said. “Your glamour won’t work on me now, not even with it pushing at me like some sort of wall.”

“Yes,” Nicca said, “I’ve never felt any of the demi-fey this strongly before.”

“The demi-fey are the essence of faerie,” Doyle said. “As faerie grows in power, so will they, apparently.” He didn’t sound entirely happy about it.

Niceven turned to him. “Why, Darkness, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you were afraid of us, too.”

“My memory is as long as yours, Niceven.” The cryptic statement seemed to please her.

“You’re afraid to bring us back into our full power, and here the princess has bargained to help us do just that. Irony is sweet when it is on the right foot.”

“Be careful how much irony you enjoy, Niceven, too much irony can be bad for you.”

“Darkness, is that a threat?” Her voice didn’t sound gentle at all now.