Beautiful nightmares, p.29
Beautiful Nightmares, page 29
It was Iris, although she was vastly younger in this memory. When I’d met her, the witch had looked like she was in her late twenties. This Iris could’ve passed for sixteen years old. Her skin was as smooth as a pearl and her green ballgown hugged a smaller body. She was Belanor’s lover, I realized, the knowledge coming to me easily now. No wonder she had been so rough and cold during our interactions—she’d probably resented his obsession with me.
Ironic, considering that Belanor had always been afraid that Iris was secretly in love with Laurie, as everyone else was at their Court.
He’s almost making this too easy, I thought.
Without a word to the prince, Iris turned and walked away, following the command of my magic. Belanor gritted his teeth, irritated that others may have seen Iris’s departure as a spurn toward him. He knew if he left now, as he’d been planning, it almost certainly would.
Belanor’s irritation gave way to disbelief as his lover threaded through the guests, stopped at Laurie’s side, and tucked herself against his side. She stood on tiptoe to skim her lips along Laurie’s cheek, his neck, the corner of his mouth. He didn’t pause in his conversation with a blue-skinned female wearing a gown made of seashells, but he did put his arm around Iris’s waist. After a moment, the witch turned her head and found Belanor again. There was an exalted gleam in her eyes.
She didn’t say a word, but the curl to her lips conveyed everything. You are nothing to me.
Belanor’s nostrils flared. I heard the roar of pain in his head, felt it in his chest. Seeing the two of them together, he couldn’t help feeling as if Laurie was a bright flame and he was the ashes left behind. That was how it had always been. But not how it would always be, Belanor promised himself desperately.
Hearing this, my smile returned. Wrong again, I told him.
Belanor stiffened and his eyes widened. I didn’t give him a chance to react, and in the next moment, Mab materialized behind him. Belanor sensed her and spun, opening his mouth to warn her away. But then, in the space of time between rapid heartbeats, everything in the throne room shifted.
Everyone was staring in one direction, and Mab stood behind Belanor now. They were in the middle of the crowd, facing the enormous wall of windows. It felt like the breath caught in my throat when I saw what they were looking at.
Laurie sat on the throne.
He was… magnificent. There was no other word for it. The sun shone behind him, casting streams and ribbons of light in every direction. It bounced off tiles and jewelry, lending the room even more iridescence. This, I knew, was how everything had truly looked on the day of his coronation—after all, I was only using the imagery from Belanor’s head. Laurie wore a suit of white and gold, so decadent, so ridiculous that it shouldn’t have looked good. But with his silver hair and strong shoulders, it worked. A crown of silver antlers adorned his brow. He gripped the armrests lightly, his hands loose and still. Rings gleamed on his fingers.
“I love him more than you,” Mab purred in Belanor’s ear. He darted a glance at her, but his mother’s vivid green eyes were fixed on Laurie, making it impossible to misunderstand who she meant.
Six words. Six short, simple words, and they had the power to send a crack through Belanor’s mind as a rumble of horror and pain shook the very foundation of his being. They were the exact words he’d always dreaded. If I were feeling charitable, I might have told him that the truth was just the opposite—Mab loved Belanor so much she hadn’t kept enough for her other adopted children.
Unfortunately for Belanor, I wasn’t feeling charitable.
He stood there, staring at the apparitions of his worst fears. Laurie, Mab, and Iris didn’t even bother to look back at him. That was when I finally appeared in front of the crumbling prince. He stepped back, startled. I allowed him to recognize me as I stepped close and smiled into his eyes.
“Again,” I whispered.
Then Belanor blinked, and I was gone.
He looked around with a frown. He knew something was off, but everything seemed to be in its place. This was one of his mother’s parties. He could remember seeing the cleaning staff earlier, scrubbing the floors of this room. He could still taste the glass of wine he’d had in his rooms in an effort to prepare himself for the inane chatter ahead, just before he put on the tailcoat, trousers, dark waistcoat, white bow tie, and winged-collar shirt he now wore.
Still smiling, I removed myself from the illusion. I blinked hard once, twice to realign the parts of myself that had briefly separated. When the world solidified, I saw that Belanor was on the ground now. He stared up at the night sky, his eyes hollow, his mouth open in a silent scream.
Gil appeared at my side, the bottom half of his face completely covered in blood. What had once been a white shirt was a deep, periwinkle blue. His voice was guttural and unrecognizable as he said, “Time to go.”
“Wait.” I resisted when he grasped my arm and gave it a none-too-gentle pull. “He’s still alive.”
The vampire responded, but I didn’t hear it—my attention was riveted on Belanor’s chest. The movement was so subtle I’d almost missed it, a soft rise and fall that indicated breath. Looking down at him, it occurred to me that Belanor would never be more vulnerable than he was in this moment.
The same thing had occurred to Gil, as well. “Shall I take care of him, then?” he questioned.
“No.” The answer was immediate and involuntary. I frowned at the sleeping prince, wondering why I was hesitating again. If I picked up one of the discarded swords around us and finished what I’d started, I would be ridding the world of a monster. A monster that had been on the verge of gaining even more power.
There was a sword next to my foot. The blade was clean—its owner had either been struck down before he could use it, or he was still in the throes of my power. I knelt and picked the weapon up. I was prepared for its weight, but going so long without exercising had weakened me. I had to use both hands to put it over Belanor’s throat. My muscles tensed. The Seelie Prince just laid there, his face frozen in a twisted expression of horror.
Choose Mercy, Fortuna.
Collith’s voice sounded without warning, making me jump. I held the sword there for one more beat. Goddamn it, I thought with a rush of hot fury. Slowly, I lowered my hand, exhaling through my teeth. Collith was locked away in the deepest, darkest dungeon there was, and he was still managing to annoy me. My voice of reason, my wisdom, my reminder to do good, in spite of all the bad he’d done. If he were here, I’d be tempted to use this sword on him, too.
“Fortuna, if you’re not going to kill him, then let’s go.” Gil’s voice was sharp with urgency. I raised my head and instantly saw why.
More guards were pouring out of the palace. Laurie’s friends were waiting halfway down the driveway, a fearsome-looking cluster of warriors with bloodied weapons and thunderous expressions. I faced Gil, about to agree to his suggestion when someone else grabbed my hand. My head whipped to the side. Power rose inside me like tentacles, ready to defend. But it was only Laurie, his eyes burning bright, his head inclined in a silent command. Run.
I was about to obey when I spotted a familiar figure rushing toward Belanor’s prone form.
Both Laurie and Gil pulled me backward, inserting several feet of distance between us and Iris. I didn’t fight them. I didn’t need to be close to her to defend us, and the witch only had eyes for her lover, anyway. She went down on her knees slowly, and her expression dulled when she saw his face. Mouthing his name, she touched Belanor’s chest with both of her hands, as if she could will his vitality back. He didn’t stir. After another moment, Iris looked up at me, tears gleaming on her cheeks.
The moment our gazes met, she went still. Her lips parted with awe. Seeing that reminded me this was the first time we’d faced each other since I’d gotten my powers back, and I felt my own lips curve with anticipation. I pulled my hands free from Laurie and Gil as I waited for the awe to pass.
Unsurprisingly, it didn’t take longer than two or three seconds. Iris had figured out who I was, of course—the scene surrounding us made it fairly obvious, even if she couldn’t see my true face anymore. I watched the witch’s face tighten as the usual parade of reactions marched through her. Desire. Envy. Hate.
I waited until our eyes locked again. Moving quickly, I reached up and removed the rose from behind my ear. It had already begun to wilt. I tossed it onto the ground between us, like an omen. Then I said, not bothering to hide the relish in my voice, “I look forward to watching you break.”
With that, I sent a fresh surge of power into Belanor’s mind, strengthening whatever remained of the illusion that had claimed him. The unconscious faerie shuddered, and a fresh line of blood slid out of his nose.
As Iris’s wail rose into the night, I turned back to Laurie, who looked equal parts exasperated and admiring. Understandable, considering the next wave was almost on us. His fingers wrapped around mine again—I felt a burst of warmth and power, but as always, nothing more than that—and we broke into a sprint. I was still holding the sword I’d intended to kill Belanor with.
In an instant, I remembered that I wasn’t wearing shoes. Ice and gravel lodged in the soles of my feet with every step, taunting me of this fact. Thankfully, I was buzzing with magic and energy, and what should’ve been painful was hardly more than a minor discomfort. Seconds later, we caught up with Laurie’s inner circle, and all of us flew down the driveway, toward the bright street, where buses and cars and bikes still filled the lanes, a wide moon shining above it all. There was another stone archway standing there, as well.
Then I blinked, and Guardians, dozens of them, suddenly stood between us and freedom. Apparently the loss of their commander hadn’t nullified their orders.
“Too many,” I muttered, my stomach sinking. I started to slow, raising the sword at the same time.
But Laurie tugged at me again. He didn’t even sound winded as he muttered back, “Wait for it.”
Another wave of frustration sluiced through me. Just once, it would be nice to know the plan before we rushed headlong into it. Still, I kept running, and Gil followed my lead. The others hadn’t so much as paused.
As we caught up to them again, I glanced over at the vampire. My focus lingered on the blood covering him. I could see the newborn’s deteriorating control without using the bond; his features had sharpened, including his fangs, and there was a sheen to his eyes as they caught the light, like an animal’s. Gil wanted to fight. He wanted the chance to tear these faeries open and gorge himself on their blood.
If we survived this, he and I would need to have a talk.
I’d barely finished the thought when pain shot through my ribs, and I released a ragged sound, drawing a sharp glance from Laurie. Without faltering, I flapped my hand at him. I’m fine. Keep going.
Then a roar cleaved the world in half.
Me, Laurie, Gil, and the members of his circle came to an abrupt halt. The lumberjack dug his boots into the ground so hard that his heels seemed to spew dirt. Every single head tilted back, including mine. I heard some of the guards mutter expletives and prayers. A shadow swooped over us, blocking out the moon like a solar eclipse. A gust of wind tossed my ponytail back and sent snow flying. I saw something flash in the air, and Laurie’s arm moved in the corner of my eye—he’d caught a sword. The huge creature must’ve been carrying it.
It was the most beautiful blade I’d ever seen, but I barely spared it a glance. All my focus was fixed upward. As a sudden wind blew my hair back, a result of those powerful wingbeats, I felt a rush of intuition edged with the prickle of certainty.
“What did you say Tabitha was?” I breathed to Laurie.
His tone was a strange blend of satisfaction and awe. “I didn’t.”
I knew it was her. I wasn’t sure how, because the dragon landing on that stone archway bore no resemblance to the female I’d met in Laurie’s rooms. Her size was immense, equivalent to a small house, and there were barbs at the end of her great, sweeping tail. Stones crumbled like dust under her claws as she dug them in, leaning over the enormous battalion of warrior angels.
Her scales were black. Deep, obsidian black. They seemed to absorb the moonlight rather than reflect it—there was none of that beautiful, shimmering quality Cyrus’s scales had displayed. She drew her head back, as if she were gaining momentum, and then her throat flexed. Her jaws gaped open and green fire came pouring out.
Feed your rage like a flame, she’d said to me. Tabitha was surprisingly straightforward; I should’ve realized she meant it literally.
The Guardians scattered, their cries of alarm ringing through the night. I stood there, seeing that moment with Cyrus again, frozen with terror and regret.
“Go!” Laurie snapped, yanking me forward with his free hand. Recovering, I wrenched my dress up again, silently vowing to opt for pants from now on. I tightened my grip on the hilt of the sword still in my other hand. The driveway we ran over steamed from the heat and melted ice, and over our heads, I caught a glimpse of Tabitha rearing back for another surge of dragonfire.
She was giving us a head start. They all were, I noted with a start—Laurie’s friends hadn’t started running when we had. Instead, they stood with their backs to us, blades and guns at the ready. Any Guardians that managed to pass Tabitha would need to go through them, too.
The realization gave me a burst of strength. I kept pace with Laurie and Gil as we raced beneath the archway. Screams sounded from behind, but I didn’t look back. We reached the street, and my bare feet slapped against the freezing pavement. Laurie seemed to hear this at the same moment I did, and I saw him glance down. Cursing, he stopped and reached for me, probably intending to carry me in spite of the heavy-looking sword he already held.
Tabitha roared again, and somehow, I heard a note of warning in the sound.
Laurie and I turned at the same time. Several Guardians were heading in our direction, but Tabitha’s enormous, lethal body hadn’t left the archway—a biker whizzed past, acting completely oblivious to the beast looming over him. Most likely, the illusion spell Belanor had mentioned only extended to the edge of the palace grounds. If there were sightings of a dragon in Munich, the humans would descend into chaos.
Which meant there wouldn’t be any more help from Tabitha, not if she wanted to avoid exposing all of Fallenkind. The inner circle was also preoccupied, and I was glad to see each member holding their own.
I didn’t remember running again, but then I was rushing after Gil and Laurie down a narrow street, the driver of a small car honking his horn at us. Nightmares couldn’t cast any sort of glamour, and I cast a single, fleeting thought about the strange picture I must’ve made flying past in a lacy ballgown and brandishing a medieval sword in one fist. Laurie seemed to have a destination in mind, and he led us down alleys and around corners, never faltering or offering explanation.
“Stop, in the name of the king!” someone shouted.
He’s not king yet! I wanted to shout back, but the unfamiliar voice was too close for my liking. A backward glance told me that, in spite of our head start, the Guardians had gained ground on us and they were closing in fast. We were on a quieter street now, with fewer cars and people to avoid. I could hear the clanking of armor and swords.
At the mouth of another alley, Laurie stopped and spun.
“Go,” he said shortly, moving his head again to indicate we should get behind him. He spun the sword in an expert movement.
I glared. “We’re not leaving—”
Gil grabbed my arm and pulled me into the narrow space behind Laurie. A strand of hair blew across my mouth as I looked wildly over my shoulder, desperate not to lose sight of him. I sensed a ripple of his power as he claimed several minds at once, making them see what he wanted them to see. It was strange that I kept sensing when Laurie used his abilities—maybe it was because I’d been in his head now. Because I’d gotten past his wall.
This alley led to a dead end; Gil and I reached a wall of dumpsters and whirled. At the other end, the Seelie Prince’s body blocked most of the street, but I saw a cluster of oncoming Guardians jerk to a halt, their expressions twisting. Some with confusion, others with blank terror. Laurie was buying us time, too, I realized. He had probably chosen this alley for a specific reason. But what were we waiting for? Was I supposed to be scaling the walls?
“Now what?” Gil muttered, echoing my thoughts.
I was on the verge of calling out to Laurie when he tossed something down the alley. He quickly faced forward again, his body tight with concentration. My gaze dropped to the objects he’d thrown at my feet.
Boots. They must’ve come off one of the Guardians Laurie was holding in his thrall—they were tipped with metal and made of high-quality leather. Leaning my stolen sword against the closest brick wall, I hurried to pull the boots onto my frozen, dirty feet. They were too big, but not by much. I’d still be able to run and fight, and that was all that mattered.
I had just finished putting the second one on when a hand clamped around my ankle.
I spun, a scream rising to my lips. It died when I saw none other than Peeks, his finger pressed against his mouth in a desperate bid for silence. He was half-standing out of a sewer hole, the round lid propped against his shoulder. Jassin’s son was lucky I hadn’t been holding the sword, or his head might’ve gotten lopped right off his body.
Gil moved in a blur, probably to rip Peeks’s head off anyway, and I threw my hand out with a frantic, “No, don’t!”
The vampire froze, his eyes unnaturally bright again. He didn’t take them off Peeks, who glared back with an expression that managed to be wary and defiant all at once.
“Can we go now?” he said. His long hair was scraped into a bun, exposing the shaved sides of his scalp. He wasn’t wearing his Guardian armor, only a worn jean jacket. Before either Gil or I could respond, Peeks’s gaze shifted, taking note of the figure still fighting at the mouth of the alley. “If Laurelis is coming, one of you should fetch him. Now.”
