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“You may be certain of that,” Aaibhe said.
As he stomped out of the room Breslyn barked a laugh, but Danté said grimly, “This will mean trouble—they are coming after you, my Queen.”
“Aye, Banzar has always wanted the throne.” Bre
slyn sneered. “But he’ll have to go through us to get it, and I don’t see that happening, eh, Danté?”
“If he gets enough Council members to vote with him, they have the power to depose the queen.”
“Never going to happen,” Breslyn said. “I have always wanted to take on those sour-faced fools. The time has come to weed out the useless and bring in new life, and we are just the ones to do it.”
“Bres, it can’t be done with a sword. It will need politicking behind the scenes, and neither one of us has ever been good at that,” Danté cautioned.
Aaibhe said nothing to all of this, and Morgan slipped a hand around her waist and said, “Am I ruining your life, my love?”
“No, you are making it—you have given me life. If my position as queen is so fragile that someone like Banzar thinks he can depose me, well, then, ’tis time to take a stand.”
“Damn straight,” Breslyn said, his silver eyes alight with the challenge.
“The timing is very poor,” said the queen. “One should never fight a two-front war, and Banzar is putting us right there between two fronts, a political one on one hand, which can be distracting, while we fight to keep the Unseelie imprisoned.”
“You have four Royal Houses at your side. You have the Daoine Fae at your back. There may be some who will take a stand with Banzar, but though we shall have to suffer the fools, there is no doubt we shall take them down!” Breslyn said in high spirits.
Aaibhe looked into Danté’s golden eyes and saw what she knew already. This was going to be a fight to the death, and she was in grave jeopardy.
* * *
“Enough,” said a soft voice, and Trevor snapped his neck back as he looked up, tears flowing freely down his cheeks.
It was not the robotic voice that had spoken only a moment ago, and at the moment he couldn’t think and had no idea to whom the female voice belonged. She was not visible, and he realized she was merely projecting her voice from somewhere else as she continued to berate him. “There is no time for this display of emotion, though I applaud your feelings. There is only a moment left before she will certainly be gone from even your ability to save her.”
“By Danu, help me. I don’t know how to bring her back!” He heard the anguished plea in his own voice. Would she help? He could heal a human; he knew that much, but he had never witnessed one being brought back from death.
“Of course. I may be in the process of evolving because I must do so to save my love from himself, but I have not forgotten who I am.” She allowed him to see a holograph of herself, and she was not only stunningly beautiful but radiating with kindness. “There … you may be more comfortable speaking with my image. You have very little time. She has not yet crossed over, and you must do this before she does. Seelie Fae, she needs your blood,” the woman said grimly.
Trevor had heard the ancient tale when he was a boy. It was one of those stories that was repeated and had turned into a legend. He had never thought much about it. Still, he knew that even a Royal Fae could not bring back the dead without dire consequences.
However, he would pay any price; he was willing to exchange his life for hers, suffer any consequences.
The old tale spoke of an ancient Fae King, presumably the Dark King, who had brought back a human from death by giving her his blood. Was that what she meant? “How is it done?” Trevor’s voice shook with emotion.
“You must pour your blood down her throat. But hurry now—cut yourself, and before you heal, get as much into her as you may.”
Without question, and from the desperation of hope beyond what he understood, Trevor slashed his wrist. He cut into an artery and hurriedly squeezed the blood into her mouth as he pulled her head back and manipulated her lips. He needed to get his blood down her throat even though she could not swallow; he knew that his blood would attach itself and do its job. He managed to pour just enough blood into her gullet before his wound began to repair itself.
“Nothing is happening—was I too late?” he yelled, his voice filled with a fear he couldn’t control and wasn’t ashamed to show.
“Wait, Seelie Prince,” the three-dimensional image whispered. “She is a Fios, more than human, and that fact will help her to absorb your blood.”
“It is just an old story children tell one another,” he said angrily, damning himself for letting Jazmine Decker stay in the Dark Realm with him. He should have returned her to Tir.
“It is more than a story. I know of one time when it was done. When the Dark King found me after our first meeting, I had been mortally wounded and died in his arms. I died. He brought me back with his blood.” The voice paused and then sighed. “Ah, I am pleased—your Fios wakes.”
It dawned on him in that moment this was Crystal, the Dark King’s consort, of course. Hope began to spring alive in his mind.
Trevor turned back to his Jazmine Decker and felt her stir in his arms. Laughter and sobs mixed into broken formation as the sounds of joy beat away his fear and burst out of him. He had not thought himself capable of feeling such extreme emotions all at once, let alone expressing them. He held her tightly to himself. He held her head up to keep it from flopping, and as she choked on his blood, he placed his palm over her forehead and whispered ancient Danu words to relax her throat muscles and help her magically absorb the blood. He saw this worked, and he hugged her to himself as he whispered Danu words of love: “Anam me, ta anam me, Fili me.” Then he repeated them in English, hoping she would hear them and know what he felt, understand what she meant to him. “My soul, my love, my Fios.”
Suddenly she opened her eyes. Her lashes fluttered and closed, and then she began to shake uncontrollably in his embrace. She was gagging, trembling, and flailing her arms. He held her in place to keep her from injuring herself and shouted towards Crystal’s holograph, “What the bloody hell is happening to her?”
