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Beck nodded, his face tight with emotion. “I understand, love. We’ll do what we can.”
“We’re going to the marketplace to talk to her. It might help to talk to another female,” Meg said. “They say she looks human, so she might talk to me. The gnomes aren’t threatening, but they seem weird if you haven’t seen them before. Rhys says she’s violent and should be put down.”
“He wants to kill her?” Dante was shocked at the thought.
The woman hadn’t asked to be brought to another plane and sold in the marketplace. Dante knew that most of the women who were sold at the market actually requested the sale. It was considered a reasonable way to find a mate. If a man had enough money to buy a wife, it probably meant he could afford to support one. In the Fae world, outside of nobility, it was a very common practice. Only bondmates and consorts from other planes were brought in and forcibly sold. “Why doesn’t he just let her go?”
Beck sighed. “For several reasons. He’s been contracted to sell her. Those demons are damned serious about their contracts. If Rhys simply lets her go, he’ll be in violation. There’s also the fact that he has no idea what he’ll be letting loose. He doesn’t know how to get her back to her home.”
“We’re going to find a way,” Meg vowed. Her face was solemn. “I won’t let anyone put her down like an animal.”
“Of course not, darlin’,” Beck agreed, but there was worry in his eyes. Dante knew that sometimes it wasn’t easy to be the king. “We’ll figure out some way to help the poor girl.”
“You say she’s violent?” Dante heard himself ask. His brain was working overtime. A violent woman who could serve as a consort. A woman who frightened the gnomes. A woman who tried to kill the men who touched her. She sounded awful—and a little perfect.
“That’s what Rhys said,” Beck corrected. “He says she’s out of control. The women can’t get close to her cage.”
“And you’re sure she’s a consort?”
“Again, according to Rhys, she is. The demon said she glows. I could tell you if she was a bondmate. Bondmates can usually pass for consorts, too.” Beck’s voice became suspicious. “Why? Do you want to come and have a look at her, then? You could tell just by looking at her.”
Cian was staring at Dante with narrowed eyes, but he said nothing.
Dante shrugged. He would be able to tell if the girl was a consort by her glow. It appeared as a slight halo around the consort’s form. It was a lovely, infinitely appealing sight to the royal vampire. “Sure, why not?”
It wasn’t like he had anything better to do. It wouldn’t hurt to go take a look at the girl. He got up to follow his cousins out. At the very least, he would meet someone who didn’t know who he was.
* * * *
It was late in the afternoon when Dante found himself walking through the marketplace following Beck as he strode toward his goal. The door between the Vampire plane and this plane—a refugee plane—was easily accessible. There were hundreds of ways to get to different pla
nes. Vampire scientists had theorized that there were still thousands of planes to be discovered. Many scientists would love to work with the Planeswalker clans to map out all the different doors. Unfortunately, the Planeswalkers came from a plane called Hell, and they didn’t have a problem with eating scientists.
Rhys of the Gentle Hills had the largest and most impressive tent in the marketplace. There was no question the gnome had done well for himself in the years since the civil war in Tir na nÓg.
Rhys’s tent was at the center of the small village, and everything had built up around it. Dante liked the marketplace. It was filled with the weird and wonderful things that could be found across the planes of existence. He even liked the feel of dirt beneath his feet. The surface on this plane was radically different from his home. It was closer to Tir na nÓg. This particular plane had been deserted when Beck and Cian had fled their home. It had been used by vampires as a place to hunt in the old ways and to raise cattle.
There was no smog here. The sun was bright and everything was open and airy. At home, the surface was tight and confined. Sometimes, the sun didn’t get past the clouds of pollution that clung close to the surface. It was why most vampires who could afford it never left their high homes.
Dante adjusted the hood of his jacket to better cover his pale skin. The sun was stronger on the Faery planes. His sunglasses had already adjusted to the light. The nanites in his clothing adapted quickly to keep his temperature in an optimal range and ensure the ultraviolet light didn’t burn him.
But what would it be like to walk unclothed in the sunlight? What would it be like to laze about unencumbered by clothing while the warmth of the sun kissed his skin? He would never tell anyone, but that was what had attracted him to the sunscreen project.
“What do you think you’re doing, cos?” Cian asked. He’d allowed Beck and Meg to get ahead of them.
Dante hoped he projected an air of curious innocence. Ci was right. Ci knew him far too well for Dante’s comfort. “I just wanted to come along. It might get dangerous. You never know, you and Beck might need backup.”
Cian’s gray eyes rolled. “Yes, the warrior king requires backup. He’s not only the greatest warrior to rise from the Seelie in a thousand years, but he’s a storm lord, too. I think he can handle one small female. Now, spit it out, cos. What happened with your dad last night? Don’t lie. I know that look in my uncle’s face. I saw it when he caught me and Beck with his personal assistant ten years ago.”
Dante’s eyes went wide. “You two did Helena? Seriously? How did I not know that? She’s twenty years older than you.”
Cian’s smile was slightly lecherous. “She was very experienced. We were just young lads looking to learn. It was a beautiful afternoon that we got our asses kicked for. Uncle Alex had that look in his eyes last night. What’s going on?”
Dante shrugged as they passed a goblin vendor selling all manner of odd items. “He was a bit upset. He thinks there’s going to be some bad press about the DL.”
“I believe the talk shows labeled you ‘Asswipe of the Year,’” Cian confirmed. “I didn’t think that was a term serious journalists would use, but they seemed happy with it.”
“Stupid tabloids,” Dante cursed. They were always on his back. The paparazzi waited to capture his fuckups on tape for the world to see. “What do they want me to do? I didn’t even like many of those girls. Most of them just wanted to be DL stars. Should I have asked one to marry me so I didn’t look like a jerk and then break it off later?”
