AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“She chose to follow him. He did not ask her to, but Morrigu followed the Dark King here when he first banished himself. He was wretched that his war had resulted in Queen Bridget’s death. He never wanted that. Morrigu thought if she became his mistress, they could rule here … but then his experiments all went wrong. She turned to dark magic, and it took over her thought processes, and although he wanted to return her to Tir, he couldn’t because of what the dark magic had done to her.” Trevor shrugged. “I am told the Dark King thinks on another plane,” he said. “Never mind all that now. We have to—”
“Have you ever been here before?”
“No,” he answered and pulled her further along the corridor.
“How will you know where to go?”
He touched his head with his pointer finger and grinned. “You do not give us enough credit, Fios. I have all that I need already implanted by the queen, right in here.”
“Like a set of blueprints?” Jazz asked, impressed, and then she stopped and clutched him. “Do you feel that?”
“What?”
“Dark Fae—everywhere … Dark Fae. I can sense them. It must be built into our DNA from ancient times when we had to alert the villagers before the Fae arrived.” She eyed him with a smirk. “Seems I can sense Fae approaching even before you can.” Her eyes teased him. “And I feel Unseelie all around.”
“Well, we are in the Dark Realm,” he reasoned with a grin.
Jazz was all too aware that she loved his grin. A boyish innocence played in that beaming smile, so at variance with some of the stodginess with which he conducted himself, and so at odds with the fact that he had lived thousands of years.
He began moving stealthy and said, “Quiet now.”
All at once, Jazz felt a strange sensation at her back, and her skin got prickly. She yanked at his hand as she spun around and discovered why her Fios senses had been screaming in her head and all over her body.
A Dark and Royal Fae stood, his arms folded across his muscular and tattooed chest, his expression contemptuous—a Royal, yes, but not Hordly!
He was tall, incredibly handsome, with shoulder-length black hair that fell loosely around his face. His eyes were black and glittering and held a look she couldn’t quite read. Was it amusement? Purpose? Bitterness?
He wore a silver torque, much like Hordly’s torque, etched to denote both his Royal status and his station as firstborn to the Dark King. His chest was bare except for a set of intricate tattoos. Covering his muscular thighs were black leather pants, and on his bare feet were sandals.
“Did you think you could enter my castle without my knowing, Seelie?” he said in a similar accent to his brother’s. The Dark Princes evidently spoke another dialect of Danu. Their accents were similar to Trevor’s but not quite the same.
Trevor’s entire stance was super-charged with hatred, and Jazz felt it fill the air as he breathed just one word out loud: “Pestale!”
The Dark Prince inclined his head, and Jazz was immediately aware that this one was very different than his brother. This one had a great deal of cunning, a sense of self-worth, and purpose.
He said, “Ah, no doubt you were expecting a change in me? Tell me, Seelie, did you think the Dark King would really be bothered to re-educate me after I drank from the Cauldron?” He shook his head. “Hordly knew better and saved me from its waters and the years of wandering aimlessly without direction.”
“I see one change,” Trevor said, his gaze traveling over the tatts on Pestale’s abdomen.
Jazz could almost see him thinking. He would call for his Death Sword and shift to the Dark Prince. She tensed as she waited.
Pestale smirked as he opened his folded arms and raised one well-shaped brow. “Ah, these?” he said, looking at the tatts. “They were needed for the very dark magic I have been working with in this last week.” He looked at Jazz and sucked in air as he allowed his gaze to travel over her. She felt as though he had stripped her of all her warm clothing, and she moved in closer to Trevor as he spoke again, softly, so softly. “Lovely creature. I can’t imagine why you have brought her to my castle, but I thank you. I shall be sure to enjoy her quite thoroughly before she dies.”
Jazz felt her Fios kick in again—more Dark Fae on the move and headed towards them. Two … two male Fae almost upon them.
She felt their presence at her back as they shifted in. She looked over her shoulder and discovered with a sinking heart that one was Hordly and the other, from the torque around his neck, had to be his brother. They were surrounded. This was so not what she had in mind. She had thought she and Trev would arrive and take the Dark Princes by surprise and by storm. It appeared, however, that the Unseelie Royals had the upper hand.
She had to do something—all her Fios senses were on the alert and ready to defend—but she waited, looking at Trevor, hoping he had a plan.
Trevor had to know, of course, they were surrounded, but he did not seem overly concerned to her. Was he bluffing? He should be concerned, she thought worriedly. Lots of reasons to be concerned here.
All at once Trev was in motion, his Death Sword in his right hand. He swung it from side to side, slashing at air.
With his other hand, he held her. They shifted, coming up behind Pestale so that all three Dark Princes were before him and she was at his back. She got ready.
Jazz knew this was it. Here was death staring at them.
The Unseelie Royals came at Trevor, and although Jazz flattened herself against the wall, she knew she had to do something. Then she remembered just what she could do.
