Revelry Page 6

  “I’m not.” A lie, and they both knew it.

  He allowed it, pulling back to resettle in his chair a moment before Titania requested he join her in a toast. Trays of food were brought out, some strange and oddly colored, while others, like the small Cornish hens, were easily recognizable. Faerie servants, who came and went with a speed that humans could never manage, filled all of the plates.

  Arden barely noticed the fare placed before her, too busy watching Brix carry on a conversation with those down at his end of the table. For someone who’d just been given immense power, he didn’t look pleased. In fact, when he lifted his head as if sensing her watching, and met her gaze, his sadness was palpable.

  She shouldn’t have gone off on her own, but she couldn’t stop her feet from moving. Arden swept across the grounds quickly, ignoring those who turned to peer her way, hoping they’d assume that she was merely trying to escape the chill of the night. To further the charade, she tugged her pea coat’s wide collar tips closer together, hunching her shoulders slightly, despite the fact it might make her appear weak.

  Weakness, at the moment, wasn’t her greatest concern.

  She hadn’t touched any of the food, not a single morsel. It’d been hard enough to stomach her surroundings––all of the royal fae seated and grinning while the revelry raged on around them. Screams and cries for help had intermingled with shouts of joy, but shouts of any kind had seemingly gone unnoticed. Not even Brix had tipped his head in their direction.

  And the whole time Titania had sidled as close to Mavek as she could get, leaning in to whisper in his ear every so often, words spoken too low for Arden to make out.

  She’d thought she was going to be sick.

  The second they’d all seemed distracted enough, she’d left the table as fast as she could, with no real destination in mind. The first structure that had come into view was the greenhouse, situated far off the main section of the grounds. Chances were good that no one would be in there, and she’d hurried toward it, desperate to have a moment to herself to breathe.

  The crowning had happened—did that mean she was free to go? Could she risk it?

  The Unseelie were already wary of her, some even angry because of what had happened to the Erlking. Pissing them off and drawing more attention to herself was a surefire way of getting either herself or her friends seriously injured. She couldn’t go through what she’d experienced at the Tithe again. None of them could.

  Cole was still damaged from his time tied to the Night Market. He ate everything in sight, never went anywhere without a couple of snacks in his bag, and carried around bottles of flavored water like they were going off on a hike through the desert at any moment. Now that his taste had returned, he was even eating foods he used to hate.

  A week ago, Arden had caught him shoving cranberries in his mouth at lunch. He’d been allergic to them his whole life. In the end, he’d said the hives were worth it.

  He wasn’t the only one still hurting.

  Tabby frequently had nightmares and would call Arden up in the middle of the night sobbing. She hadn’t been able to shake the image of those water fae coming for her, or the way they’d mobbed the Erlking as soon as he was tossed to them in Tabby’s stead. During the day, she was able to put on a brave face, and could walk the streets alone like nothing had ever happened. She even pretended not to see any of the Unseelie around her, despite her newly gifted sight. As soon as the darkness crept in however…

  Then there was Eskel, who’d come all this way believing he was chasing ghosts only to discover the truth was far more monstrous. His brother had been executed for falling in love with an Unseelie, and Eskel himself was almost sacrificed as well. He didn’t seem to care that it was his connection to Arden that had led him to the Tithe that day.

  But she did.

  She felt responsible for every single one of her friends, and it was eating her up inside, warring with the other twisted emotions she couldn’t seem to shake loose. She’d dug her nails deep into the flesh of her palm each and every time Titania had trailed her talons up Mavek’s arm. She’d bitten the inside of her cheek whenever he’d bent toward the queen, giving her his ear willingly, as if what she had to say was the most fascinating thing in the world.

  Arden hated that she couldn’t separate herself from her past emotions––from that need she’d carried within her for over twelve months. She should one-hundred-percent despise the Midnight Prince for everything he’d put her through, for being the cause of so much of her pain, and yet…

  What he’d said the other night hadn’t been completely without merit. He had taught her a great deal about how to defend herself against his kind. Prior to meeting him, she’d known very little, if any, martial arts. Her fighting skills had been limited to the occasional shove. Her strength as a human couldn’t compare to an Unseelie’s, but knowing how to fight meant knowing it wasn’t always about brute strength.

  He hadn’t just trained her in hand-to-hand combat either. With one of the throwing daggers tucked in her boots, Arden could hit a moving target dead center from over twenty feet away if she had to. She remembered, when she’d first started training with the weapons, how excited she’d be whenever Mavek praised her. How she’d feel a flush coming on and would have to explain it away as exertion.

  Her mother had been too sick to give either of her daughters much attention, let alone commend them for their good deeds or skills. A part of Arden, the part secretly seeking approval, had felt more than just pleased when the Midnight Prince told her that she had a natural talent at throwing knives.

  The greenhouse was warm and inviting when Arden finally reached it. Stepping through the doors was like entering another world, one filled with nothing but roses and the thick, heady scent of them. They came in different shades of red. A patch of crimson ones bloomed to her left, while a group the color of ripe cherries grew at her right. There was a rose garden further down the manor’s grounds, with a stone path that formed a sort of maze with various sharp twists and turns.

  The greenhouse had been set up similarly, and Arden trailed straight down the path before her, careful not to reach out to touch any of the flowers or their hidden thorns.

  Once, she’d caught Mavek and Titania in here. The memory made her frown, then immediately scold herself. She was all the way on the other side of the greenhouse when she felt it, that slight pressure on her spine. That knowing.

  The Midnight Prince had found her.

  “Arden.” He may have whispered her name from his position by the door, but she heard him as if he was standing right next to her.

  Stubbornly, she took her time turning, eyes finding his easily, in the same way they did when she’d first arrived. She’d always been able to find him, always seemed to know exactly where to look. His presence here now indicated that he could do the same. That used to bring her comfort.

  Mavek was still standing in the doorway, shoulder propped against the frame. His dark hair swept over his right eye, obscuring it from sight, but his visible eye was pinned to her. The sharp look on his face belied his casual stance. He wasn’t a human boy she’d ended a fling with; he was an Unseelie, a creature of legend.

  A monster.

  “You disappeared from the party,” he said, once he’d allowed her a moment to return his stare.

  “I’d like to go home now.” She tried not to back down when he straightened, didn’t want to let on how nervous she was in here, alone with him. And not because she was afraid for her life—physically, he’d never hurt her. Even after everything that had happened between them, she couldn’t deny that.

  But emotionally…

  She’d thought those three weeks apart had been good for her, as she sorted through her feelings, convincing herself she no longer nurtured any positive ones toward him. The second she’d woken up to find him in her room, however, those thoughts had been dashed. She’d been forced to admit that she’d made no real progress when it came to shaking him out of
her system.

  He was a liar and a manipulator and he took without asking. Yet, when she’d had nothing and no one, his presence had been like a cool balm against her seared flesh.

  “You are home, Arden.” He started his approach slowly, like stalking a skittish, wounded animal, and she bristled.

  She wasn’t going to run, like some coward. Like she was the one in the wrong.

  It wasn’t as if she could maneuver around him anyway; he was blocking the only exit, and she wasn’t stupid enough to act on such a thought.

  “Let’s skip all of this tonight,” she suggested, her right foot involuntarily slipping back half an inch despite what she’d just promised herself. She’d left the iron dagger at home since bringing one would be seen as a sign of treason, but her hand itched to reach for the silver one in her left boot.

  At least that was a reaction that made sense. Before, she would never have dreamed of drawing a weapon on him. She was pleased, knowing that she wouldn’t hesitate to do so now.

  “I don’t think we can.” He was only a few feet away now, passing by one of the windows with broken glass and a torn sheet of white plastic. A gust of wind blew inward, sweeping up the smell of roses to swirl around them. It moved his hair off to the side, exposing his other eye and she sucked in a breath before she could help it.

  She’d always been drawn to him, even from the start, knowing what he was and what had just happened to her mother. Outside the hospital, when she’d first spotted him watching her from across the courtyard, it’d been his eyes that had caught her. Simply calling them hazel was an injustice. Swirls of forest and light greens mixed with gold and chocolate brown. When he turned them to the light, they flickered various metallic shades, and what should have been eerie had the opposite effect on her.

  When she’d looked at them, Arden had always felt like one of those dragons from legend that coveted gold above all else. Or a mermaid, who’d do anything for something sparkly.

  She blinked, and suddenly he was standing directly in front of her. She hadn’t noticed, but at one point he’d plucked a single rose from the bunch, and now he brought it up, stroking the silky petals against the curve of her jaw up to her cheek. He brushed it just beneath her right eye, distracting her with the sensation of it against her skin, despite knowing that sharp thorns jutted from the stem beneath the bloom.

  He took that final step forward and dropped the flower at the same time, the tips of his shoes coming up against hers, free hand wrapping around the nape of her neck to keep her in place.

  Somehow, the kiss was unexpected. His lips, as soft as the rose petals, pressed against her own, and she opened them before she even knew what she was doing. His other arm banded around her waist, tugging her against his body as his tongue darted against hers. He tasted like mulberries and sugared candy roses.

  That thought was like being doused in a bucket of ice water, and Arden gasped, shoving him away with just enough force to untangle them. Mavek actually had to steady his steps, the shock on his face turning to frustration in a flash. “I didn’t make you what you are now so you could use yourself against me.”

  Her breathing was labored and her mind was still a bit clouded. She tried to feel the air around them, wondering vaguely if he’d used his sway on her, but it’s not like she would have missed it if he had. No, he’d simply played her the old fashioned way––using her old feelings to warp her current thinking.

  “Get out,” she said, hating how rough her voice sounded. The kiss hadn’t lasted more than a handful of seconds and yet she felt utterly wrecked by it.

  “This is my manor, Arden.”

  “Then I’ll go.” She didn’t so much as twitch. Neither did he. “Move.”

  He was watching her closely, searching for… something. “Is this about the boy?”

  “What?”

  “The human,” Mavek clarified. “The one you’re always with. The one who secretly watches you when he thinks you aren’t looking. The one who should have left when he had the chance.”

  Arden frowned. “I don’t—”

  Eskel. And here she thought she couldn’t feel any worse about herself.

  “He doesn’t have anything to do with this,” she blurted, realizing her blunder when Mavek’s eyes narrowed at her tone. “Leave him alone. He’s been through enough already.”

  “More of a reason that he should be the one to go, don’t you agree?” He recovered a foot of the space she’d put between them. “Or do you really think that keeping him close to you is the best idea? He won’t find you what you’re looking for, Arden. You can’t find something that doesn’t exist. No one can. Not even beautiful boys with pale blond hair and eyes like the Indian ocean.”

  He’d paid more attention to Eskel than she’d thought, and he wanted her to know it. He took another step closer and her hand shot up to block him.

  “Don’t.” She went unheeded, her palm pressed against the thin material of his shirt as he moved into it. Through it, she could make out the rise and dip of solid muscle.

  “I know what happened between you the night of the Tithe, Arden Rose Archer,” he whispered, leaning down so his face was pressed to her cheek, his mouth grazing her ear. “I know you welcomed his lips.”

  “Mavek—” She tried to pull back, but his hand grasped hers, keeping it pinned in place against his chest.

  “I forgave you when you passed Titania’s test,” he continued, “and I’ll forgive you again, if I have to. But I’d rather you didn’t make me. Haven’t you fought against yourself long enough? Accept your feelings for me, here and now, and I’ll let you keep the mortal boy. Unharmed. Unthreatened.”

  If Arden had been in love with Eskel, neither of them would have been able to participate in the Tithe ceremony. Faerie magic wouldn’t have worked on them, and they would have immediately been exposed. The fact that she wasn’t in love with him was probably the only reason Mavek hadn’t killed him the same way the Erlking had killed Everett.

  He’d always been capable of that kind of cruelty; she’d just blinded herself to it.

  “I’d welcome him into our bed, if it meant getting you. I’d only have to endure his presence for another sixty years.” Mavek paused. “Seventy, at most. Keep him, Arden, but have me too. For all I’ve given up for you, that isn’t much to ask.”

  She couldn’t have replied even if her life depended on it, too shocked and… she didn’t even know what. Fortunately, she didn’t have to struggle long.

  The sound of pounding footsteps announced the approaching fae a moment before Cato burst through the greenhouse door, sending plastic sheets snapping against the wind. His gaze was frantic, and he looked to Arden before his prince.

  “You have to hurry,” he said, “I tried to stop them, but they wouldn’t listen to me.”

  When she pulled away from him, Mavek let her go, though she hardly noticed, too concerned about what could be going on. She’d never seen Cato act this way before.

  “It’s Tabby,” he rushed on, not giving her a chance to ask. “She’s here.”

  Arden shot forward, racing after him as he left the greenhouse. He led her back across the grounds, through parts of the festivity that were still in full swing, to one of the bonfires raging closer to the woods that surrounded the manor. They were still a good distance away when she spotted her.

  Tabby was in the arms of an Unseelie, a beautiful one with shiny charcoal eyes and hair like spun gold. When he smiled, he showed a row of teeth, pointed and sharp as a shark’s, but her friend merely laughed at the display, even going so far as to reach up and touch one with the tip of her finger. The Unseelie twirled her around, rotating faster with every note issuing from the violin that another fae was playing off to the side. The night had settled and now the sky above was inky black and speckled with stars. To anyone else, it looked like Tabby was merely enjoying a cold winter night dancing around a fire.

  Arden knew better.

  “What the hell is going on?” she
demanded from Cato, not waiting for him to reply as she strode past all the other dancing bodies and wrapped a hand around Tabby’s arm. With all her strength, she tugged her friend out of the circle, not stopping until they were far enough from the fire’s light that they could no longer make out their own feet.

  The whole time, Arden kept them spinning in a mock version of the dance, twirling her friend around in small circles, first at the same speed as before, then slower and slower until they were mostly just drifting around.

  “You have to come down slowly,” Arden explained the second she saw reality spark to life in Tabby’s eyes. The fear and the confusion there was palpable. It made her ache.

  Being pulled out of a faerie dance was dangerous, but not as much as leaving her there would have been. Humans who were tricked into the dance did so until their feet split open and bled, then longer still, until their bodies eventually gave out. They’d do all of that and die with smiles painted across their faces, too high on endorphins to realize the danger.

  To free yourself was tricky; you couldn’t just stop all together or the magic would eat away at you, causing a heart attack. It had to be done gradually, so the spell seeped slowly out of your pores and dissipated back into the air.

  This was another thing Mavek had taught her, but Arden refused to be grateful.

  After ten minutes or so she felt it was safe to stop. Tabby was shaking, and she had little strength in her legs, held up by both Arden and Cato. The faerie had remained close, and now he met Arden’s gaze over her friend’s shoulders.

  “By the time I realized she was here, watching from the woods, it was too late,” he explained quietly. “The others had sensed her as well. She’d gotten too close.”

  “What are you doing here?” She only just resisted the urge to shake Tabby, knowing she was still too weak to handle something like that at the moment. Still, she couldn’t help herself from lashing out, “It’s like you’re determined to be killed by them.”

  “I’m sorry.” Tabby sounded like she’d swallowed an entire bucket of gravel. “Cole and I didn’t—”