Sharon Ashwood - Unchained

“You took children?”

“Don’t you read fairy tales, demon? My own grandfather was a mortal, taken as a babe.”

“That’s sick.”

“We raise those children as our own. Protect them as well as or better than their human parents ever did. Occasionally, as with my grandfather, we wed them. The ability to connect emotionally is a mortal trait we treasure. I would give much to live among humans again.”

There, he had hinted at his true reason for this so-civilized conversation.

Mac gave him a shrewd look. “I don’t think the outside world is ready for a prince of the dark fey.”

Miru-kai gave a mournful smile, careful not to show his fangs. “You won’t set me free?”

Mac laughed. “You’ve been fighting the guardsmen here for close to a thousand years, and you’re damned good at it. You’re the prince of a dark power. Plus, you’re a tricky bastard. I’m not that much of a fool.”

Disappointing, but no surprise. “And yet you let Reynard go. Don’t you know every guardsman who leaves the Castle for more than a day or two inevitably goes mad? Did you never hear the sad story of Guardsman Killion and his murder spree? That was only a handful of years ago.”

Mac didn’t even blink. “Reynard is no madman.”

“How do you know? The guardsmen have quite a history. Don’t forget you had to kill half their number when you took over the reins of power.”

“What are you saying?”

“Sacrificial lambs, every one of them. Their fates were sealed by their forefathers thousands of years ago. The Order is the type of gruesome business only humans can dream up. Worse than anything I’ve ever been mixed up in.”

“Interesting, but I’m still not letting you go.”

“There is nothing I can offer you in exchange for my freedom?”

“No.”

“You let the hellhounds leave the Castle.”

“Bad example. We rescued them from slavery to warlords like you.”

Miru-kai rose, picked up his own flask, and slid it into the pocket of his tunic. It was time to change tactics. “Don’t say that I didn’t ask nicely.”

Mac set down his glass, stood up. “What do you mean by that?”

“I’ve stayed a prisoner long enough. It’s time to leave this place.”

The gun was suddenly in Mac’s hand again. “Not happening. Not until I know there’s a snowball’s chance you’ll behave. What you just said about kidnapping doesn’t help.”

“You could win me as an ally. Think what that would mean.”

“I would guess a big fat headache. You’re a trickster by nature. You can’t help yourself.”

Unexpected anger sliced through Miru-kai. Odd, but he had wanted the demon’s friendship. That surprised him. “Then know what it is to cross the dark fey!”

He saw a flicker of something on the demon’s face that might have been fear. Good.

“Making threats only digs you in deeper,” Mac growled.

It was like teasing a bad-tempered dog—amusing and scary at once. “I will leave this place.”

Mac’s face flushed, fire flickering in his dark eyes. “And how do you think you’re going to do that?”

Time to go. The prince turned on his heel, pausing with one hand on the door handle. He looked back. “It’s a chess game, remember? You’ll have to see my moves as I make them.”

“This isn’t a game. You can’t win. You can’t escape.”

“I have the means. . . .” Miru-kai grinned, this time showing his fangs. “And I’m sure I can do at least as well as a rabbit. You can’t even keep a bunny behind bars.”

He opened the door. Oh.

A handful of guards stood there, chains of cold iron ready to fetter the prince.

No fey could escape cold iron.

By Oberon’s balls!

“For future reference,” said Mac, “just because you don’t see security, that doesn’t mean it’s not there. This office has surveillance cameras and a silent alarm.”

Miru-kai wheeled as one of the guards grabbed his wrists, snapping metal cuffs around them. “What’s the meaning of this?”

Mac folded his arms. “I don’t like chess.”

Saturday, April 4, 11:00 a.m.

101.5 FM

“This is Oscar Ottwell with your CSUP news. Our top story is yesterday’s attack by an out-of-town vampire at the North Central Branch of the public library. Leaders of the supernatural community anticipate repercussions following this unprovoked and very public incident. We’d like to remind our listeners that if you have any knowledge of strange vampires in your area, please call CSUP immediately. We’ll notify the proper authorities on your behalf.”

“Of course we’ll look after Eden,” Holly said. “Honestly, we’ve got it covered. Us and the four hellhounds in the front yard. When Alessandro found out about the vamp attack, he went nuts with the security.”

Ashe looked at her sister, who was standing in the doorway of the Carver family home. Holly was small and dark-haired like their mother, more of a sprite than an Amazon. She stepped back, letting them inside.

Ashe felt the house welcome her as she ushered Eden in, Reynard on her heels. Witch-built houses were sentient and self-repairing, living off the magical energy that hummed around a healthy family of spell casters. The birth of a new baby had made the place almost jolly. She could feel it in the air, crackling with the same vibrant energy as a Solstice tree heaped with presents.

“Hey, there,” Holly said, looking Reynard up and down. “I have to say the twenty-first century suits you.”

He gave a graceful bow. “And, if I may be so bold, motherhood becomes you.”

“Why, thank you, Captain.” In truth, Holly looked like she needed a good night’s sleep.

“Hi, Aunt Holly,” Eden said. “Mom says I have to stay here today.”

“Howdy, sport.” Holly wrapped an arm around Eden’s shoulders. “We torture you because we love you.”

Eden looked disgusted and pleased at once. “Why did I have to bring homework?”

“Because adults are cruel and perverse,” Ashe said, shooing Eden through the door. “C’mon. I have to pick up the stuff for the ghostbusting job.”

Holly led them into the living room, which was filled with brass lamps and bookcases. Exactly the same as Ashe remembered it from childhood, except for the addition of Caravelli’s expensive sound system. They sat grouped around a coffee table made of glossy mahogany and littered with baby toys.

“I really appreciate this, Hol,” Ashe said. “I know how busy you are.”

“Family comes first,” Holly replied. “And anything I can do to help you kick the bad guys out of Fairview, consider it done.”

Eden thumped her schoolbag to the floor and sank onto the couch, folding her arms in a mild sulk. Her dark curls fell around her face, hiding her expression. Ashe left her alone to ponder her woe.

Through the window, she could see the hellhounds patrolling the grounds. Two had shifted to their animal forms—big black dogs with red eyes and pointed ears. Holly’s big tabby cat was sitting on the porch, nervously swishing his tail.

“Under the circumstances, I can cancel this ghostbusting job,” Holly said, casting an anxious glance at Reynard. “You’ve got more pressing problems.”

“Nonsense,” he said. “It should be quick, and these days I don’t have many opportunities to perform a service to a lady. Allow me the pleasure of assisting your sister. It will do me good.”

Holly colored a little. “If you’re sure.”

“Completely.”

Beneath the pretty words, Ashe heard a real yearning. Reynard was free, however briefly. As he had said to Ashe, helping was one of the few choices he could make for himself. Well, she’d let him help this time, but then it would be all urn search, all the time. He might be okay with gambling with his life this way, but she wasn’t.