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Adder chuckled from behind me at my dismissive tone and carded his long fingers through my hair in a way that sent shivers down my spine. "You heard our little halfling; woo her, bard."
Fife smiled a truly wicked smile and set the bow to the strings, drawing a low, sultry sound from his instrument. He played the violin with just as much grace and beauty as he had played his flute a few days before. And just like then, the melody was both alluring and haunting, the slow song pulling at something deep inside me that made my heart ache and yearn. His graceful movements were like a dance, magic flowing through his body. He changed keys, and the tune became something more, something playfully seductive. And then, my beautiful bard sang.
I sucked in a breath as Fife's magical voice lit through me, making me feel more deeply than I had ever felt before, singing a song of yearning and passion that was almost a living entity in the room with us. It danced with my soul, coaxing me to some unknown, tremulous peak. I couldn’t say how long the song lasted, because I was utterly spellbound, lost to the magic Fife wove between us.
And then I realized the violin had stopped, and Fife was humming the final strains, his voice moving closer. I opened my eyes—not realizing I had even closed them until then—and found the beautiful cleric on his knees before me. My feet slipped from Bach's lap, and I sat up as if in a trance, like swimming through time. The last humming note of Fife's song transferred from his lips to mine like the sweetest gift, and I drank down the sound with a little groan of pleasure as the world returned to me, vivid and new.
Fife's hands came to rest on my knees as I deepened the kiss. Mirri's warm hand brushed the hair from my neck before he leaned in and planted a lingering kiss there. Adder leaned one knee on the arm of the couch beside me, taking my hand and lifting it up to press a kiss to the underside of my wrist, the crook of my elbow. Then Bach's lips met the other side of my neck.
My males surrounded me, drowning me in their adoration. And I would die a very happy woman. Finally, finally they were all about to be mine in every way.
Fife pulled back with a hiss of dismay. "Fuck!" He bit out, leaping to his feet and rushing out the door.
We all froze and stared after the bard who had ensnared us all. Silence stretched out between us for a moment before Adder released my hand and shook his head, as if coming out from under a spell.
"The net," he said darkly. "Has to be."
His words sent a chill down my spine, and I lurched to my feet just as Fife returned, cradling a glowing crystal in his claw-tipped hands. His appearance had shifted as he channeled massive amounts of magic. Four sets of glowing purple eyes flared with power, and elongated fangs flashed as he spoke. "Got you, you conniving bastard!" he crowed.
It seemed our plans for the evening were about to change. Because Fife had just caught an assassin.
Chapter 26
Balefire pranced and snorted beneath me as we arrived at the garden area in the Mistvale town square. My pooka companion had always been sensitive to my moods, and right now, he was probably picking up on a massive dose of anger, anticipation, and anxiety. Finally, I would know which of my beloved townspeople wanted me dead.
The city guard was already present, and Currant and a dozen other royal guards rode with us into the square. In the center of the lush grass-and-moss-covered area, magic snapped and sizzled, its coiling tendrils visible now as they twined down from above like violet-tinged vine ropes. The tips of the rope-like magic wrapped around the ankles, wrists, and throat of a lowborn female. Her long, straight brown hair fell forward over her face, hiding her features from view, but her perfectly pointed ear tips were visible as she hung suspended in mid-air. She didn't struggle, simply hung there limp, probably already exhausted from her previous attempts to escape.
Fife's appearance had been altered ever since the spell triggered, and though the eight-eyed male at my side was unnerving, his spell held. I could tell from the sensation of the magic flowing through and around him and the information our half-formed mate bond gave me that this spell was nearly unbreakable.
I just hoped he didn't collapse once this was all done.
We dismounted and approached the tableau that surrounded the suspended fae. The city guard stood in a circle around the area as a backup if the fae woman managed to somehow escape the magical trap. And inside that circle, to the right of the dangling woman, Steel and Jasper held the arms of a familiar, lanky male fae. Behind those three were several more serious looking fae, male and female, who I assumed were Steel's fellow Queen's Hands.
I stopped outside the circle of city guards, and they parted slightly to allow Currant, Fife, and me to enter the ring of protection, my mates and the other royal guard flanking us. My heart was in my throat, and I wanted to cry at the sight before me, but I refused to look directly at the male that Steel and Jasper held. "Jasper," I said firmly. "What in all the realms of magic are you doing here?"
The incorrigible redhead just grinned proudly at me. "Everyone's always telling me my training should be well-rounded. I figured if the Queen's Hand exists, then why not the Steward's hand?" Seeing my unimpressed look, he relented and gave me a proper answer. "Lord Adder and Lord Fife asked me to keep an eye on your…friend," he said with a slight wince. "That day he stopped by the manor. Lord Adder said Lord Fife thought there was something not right with his aura."
Steel's stony expression didn't change, but he bowed his head to me before he spoke. "I take full responsibility, my lady. I caught the lad skulking about but I didn’t stop him. I shouldn't have let him get involved. But he wore me down."
Bach scoffed from somewhere behind me. "If you find a way to refuse the whelp anything once he sets his mind to it, you'd be the first. He could wear down the Old Scourge to mere sand with his persistent hounding. Besides, he was under orders from the co-stewards of the territory."
Jasper looked completely unrepentant. And quite proud of himself.
The moment of levity helped me find the courage to meet the eyes of the male who was surrounded by the Queen's Hands. "Gambol," I said, my voice surprisingly even for the amount of betrayal and pain currently coursing through my body. "Explain to me why you are here in the presence of a traitor, in the center of a net spell meant to ensnare the one who has been trying to kill me."
My best friend. He had been my best friend since we were children. And the exhausted female currently caught in Fife's net spell was his older sister, Jig.
Gambol stared at me with a lost, pleading look in his hazel eyes. He opened and closed his mouth, but no sound came out. Jig scoffed, finally lifting her head to glare at me with hazel eyes so like her younger brother's. "He's here because he understands true loyalty. Unlike you, you undeserving halfling bitch."
I stared her down, not letting her see any reaction to her insults. Halfling was an endearment, when uttered in Adder's deep, mesmerizing voice. But flung at me from an angry full-blooded fae who had betrayed me…the slur hit its mark. "That's interesting," I told her flatly, "considering that you've betrayed your steward and your people, and he has apparently betrayed his best friend. How, exactly, does any of that equate to loyalty?"
She scoffed. "I've done nothing, neither has my brother. You can't prove anything. Release us!"
It was my turn to scoff this time. "Nothing?" I bit out, crossing my arms over my chest. "Do you not know why you're suspended in midair like a fly in a spider's web right now, Jig? Are you really that stupid?"
Fife spoke from my side, his melodic voice carrying an eerie and dangerous tone as the power flared higher around him, a violet shadow limning his body. The magical ropes jerked tighter, yanking Jig upright, forcing her to face the people around her head on.
"The net was crafted specifically to ensnare the person responsible for at least two assassination attempts perpetrated against the steward of Larkwood. I wove in traces of the person's magical signature, gathered from the site of each attempt." Then his lips curled up, revealing fangs, his words dripping venom. "I also pulled the information from your co-conspirator and mate, who is currently being held by the other half of the royal guard at the foot of the mountains." He chuckled at the crestfallen expression that passed over Jig's face. "What? Did you think your male escaped Larkwood after attempting to murder our lady in the stables?"
