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"Let go of me." Grieve held me so tight I could barely breathe. I elbowed him, trying to break away.
"Stop squirming," he whispered. "It drives me crazy when you struggle, and I could hurt you." And there it was, in his voice. The hypnotic pull. And a deadly threat hiding behind the desire.
"Grieve, please stop." I'd been in enough situations with crack-crazed junkies looking for drug money or a quick fuck that I'd learned how to relax and avoid setting off panic buttons. Grieve might not be a druggie, but I recognized the razor's edge in his voice. He was walking a thin line and I didn't want to push him over the brink.
I forced myself to hold still. Struggle, and I was prey. Submit, and he might come to his senses. Closing my eyes, I willed the wind to give me strength, to shore me up and calm my fears. As a cool breeze raced over me, my pulse slowed and my heart stopped racing.
Grieve loosened his embrace, but my wolf tattoo kept up a warm keening throughout my body.
I stumbled away, keeping my eyes on him. Never turn your back on a predator. Too dangerous. A deviant little smile crinkled the corner of his lips and he darted his tongue out as he brought his fingers up to his mouth, licking them.
"I can taste your sweat," he said, never taking his gaze off of me. "I can smell you. You still want me. Don't even try to lie about it."
I stared at him. He knew . . . Part of me didn't want him knowing how I felt because that knowledge would give him an advantage, and part of me wanted to rush right back into his embrace.
"Back off. Don't do anything you'd regret later."
He let out a sharp bark. "Regret? I have no regrets. Not anymore," he added softly, but something in his voice told me he was lying. At least to himself.
"I almost forgot you could change into a wolf." Which I hadn't, but it was something to say, something to ease us back to safety.
"I am born of the Cambyra Fae, the Shifting Ones. There's a great deal you seem to have forgotten about me, Cicely Waters. About us." He glanced at the house. Rhiannon and Leo were watching from the porch and I prayed they wouldn't make any sudden movements. "I'm sorry about your aunt. But she should have been more careful." He circled me slowly.
I turned, mirroring his movements. "Did you take her? Did you kidnap Heather?"
"Kidnap is such a pale word, don't you think?" He stopped, his face deadpan. Then he shook his head. "No, I didn't take her; I swear on my life that I did not. But I know who did. I told you, Myst rules the town. And she always gets whatever she wants."
"Is Heather still alive?"
"That's information I'm not privy to, Cicely."
I sucked in a deep breath. "So, I guess my next question is, does Myst rule your actions? Are you truly now a part of the Indigo Court, Grieve? What happened to your devotion to the Queen of Rivers and Rushes? Is Lainule still alive?"
He leaned toward me and I thought he might kiss me again but instead he lingered a few inches away from my lips. "Devotion is an honorable attribute but unfortunately not one apt to prolong my life under certain circumstances."
I narrowed my eyes. He hadn't hurt me yet, but that was no guarantee my luck would hold. I tensed to run should he decide to come at me.
"I'll ask you again: Do you answer to the Indigo Court? Are you . . . are you one of the Vampiric Fae? What happened to Lainule?"
Grieve's eyes flashed. He laughed, low and throaty.
"I was born of the Cambyra . . . but ask you this: How do you think those of us belonging to the nobility saved our necks? The Queen of Rivers and Rushes managed to escape. We don't know where she is, and for that I am grateful. I would not want to see her at the mercy of Myst. But hundreds in the court were slaughtered. Massacred. I watched them die, torn to bits, their souls drained even as their veins were bled dry."
He shuddered, a look of revulsion filling his face. "The Indigo Court feed in a frenzy, Cicely. Like sharks or piranha. They can devour their victims alive. They're bloody and terrifying, and entirely without remorse. I decided to forego the pleasure of that particular demise. Chatter was spared for two reasons only: he's not one of the nobility, and I begged them to let me keep him as my pet. I went down on my knees for him, and that is why he lives."
He reached out and stroked my cheek. "Chatter was worried I'd kill you. But trust me on this: I will never deliberately destroy you. I will never deliberately hurt you. Long ago I caught a glimpse of the future, a glimpse of what potential you had, and of who you would become. And of who you are. We're meant to be together, Cicely. I always knew you'd come back to me when you were ready. I told you to go away but . . . I can't bear the thought of seeing you leave again."
I started to back away, but he began to follow. Stopping, I whispered, "You've changed so much."
"More than you can ever know." With another laugh, he ran his hand down my arm, then hooked me around the waist. The cold seeped into my body but I barely noticed it. A swirl of snowflakes fell, twirling around our faces as his breath came in soft puffs, warming my face.
"I can save you and your friends from Myst, as long as you obey me. There's nothing I can do to help your aunt. But you . . . and your cousin . . . I can keep you alive if you cooperate. If you look the other way."
Barely able to breathe, I slowly shook my head. "We can't do that. We can't leave Heather--or the town--to the mercy of the Indigo Court. This is no game, and Heather's life isn't up for grabs, even in order to keep us alive."
He let out a low breath. "Then the only way I can help is to keep silent about what you've told me," he whispered, his breath trailing down my neck in a thin line of mist. He moaned softly and pressed his teeth against my skin.
I stood perfectly still as the razor-sharp points nicked my flesh, poised for the bite. A drop of saliva hit my skin, then another, and--reacting to the warmth of his body--I leaned against him.
