Quicksilver (Fae & Alchemy, #1)

by Callie Hart

My real name? No way I was handing that over without a fight. This bastard would shit himself if he realized he had the Saeris Fane in his grasp.

No, dropping this gauntlet would cost me something far more valuable than my life; it would cost me hope, and I wouldn’t surrender that. I’d rip my arm out of its socket first. So, I went to work.

“What if they track you down and realize what you can do? The way you can affect metal—” “It’s a parlor trick, Elroy. Nothing more. It doesn’t mean anything.” Even as I spoke, I knew I was lying. It did mean something. Sometimes, objects shook around me. Objects made of iron, tin, or gold.

Carrion Swift: the most notorious gambler, cheat, and smuggler in the entire city. He was also uncommonly good in bed—the only man in Zilvaren who’d ever made me scream his name out of pleasure rather than frustration.

The man was capable of anything. His fingers were lighter than the dawn breeze. He’d talked me out of my underwear—perhaps the greatest heist ever performed in Zilvaren—and people hadn’t stopped talking about that for months.

“One drink. Fifteen minutes. And I want the chits back that you took from him, too. Plus another five on top for the inconvenience of having to breathe the same air as you.” Carrion arched an eyebrow, considering me. I already knew I wouldn’t like what was about to come out of his mouth. “Saeris, if I knew I could buy your time, I’d be bankrupt, and you would be a very rich woman. You’d have spent the past three months on your back, begging for me to ride you harder, and—” “One more word and I’ll relieve you of your fucking balls, thief,” I snarled.

“You’re going to fix it?” Carrion’s pale blue eyes drilled into me as I stepped away from the booth. “I’m going to fix it,” I snarled back. “Good. Oh, and, Saeris?” The guy just didn’t know when to quit. I spun around, scowling at him. “What!” “Even filthy and tired, you’re still beautiful.”

I’d never seen anything so grandiose before, but my head was swimming, black spots dancing in my vision, and I couldn’t muster up the energy to appreciate any of it. And I was being marched to my death. Funny how your own impending demise will rob a girl of her desire to take in the scenery.

That’s what Madra’s doing with my people. Except our fire hasn’t burned out the way she’d hoped it would. We’ve been reduced to embers, yes, but the coals that lie beneath the ash of my ward are still hot enough to burn. Do you know much about metalwork, Captain? I do. It’s under the most unbearable conditions that the sharpest, most dangerous weapons are forged. And we are dangerous, Captain. She’s turned us all into weapons. That is why she won’t suffer my people to live.”

Queen Madra emerged from the darkness as if she were made of it.

Of course Death was beautiful. How else would anyone choose to go with him without putting up a fight? Even though he scowled at me, his dark brows tugging together to form a dark, unhappy line, he was still the most savagely beautiful thing I’d ever seen.

So, I ignored the plate and pointed to the chain hanging around his neck instead. “All right. What is that? What does it do? And why are you completely unhinged without it?” Kingfisher smiled a cold smile, pressing the tip of his tongue into the point of one of his sharp canines. “Straight for the jugular then, Little Osha? Ruthless. I like it.”

I braced against the workbench and said, “Elroy swears that a man will lie about the size of his cock every time a woman asks him.” Kingfisher stilled. “Are you asking me how big my cock is, Osha?”

“Listen,” he repeated. “What is it saying?” “It’s saying that you’re an… evil… piece of… shit,” I ground out. He didn’t react to that. “The sooner you do as I say, the sooner this all ends, human.” My jaw was screaming, I was clenching my teeth so hard. “Fuck—you—” “There you go again. Hungry, needy little bitch in heat, begging to be fucked…” he taunted.

“Your lip’s bleeding everywhere again,” I told him. His tongue darted out between his lips, his blood staining the very tip of it, and I found myself being flashed by a pair of wickedly sharp canines. The sight of them sent a thrill of panic-tinged intrigue through me. Heat rose up from the pit of my stomach, my blood rushing to my cheeks. Kingfisher’s gaze snapped up, singling in on mine. “Careful, human. We Fae have an excellent sense of smell. You’d be amazed what we can scent floating on the air.”

“Yes. Just now, actually. I’m going to keep it as a souvenir.” “A reminder of the time a weak human girl landed a hit on you and drew blood? You want your friends knowing about that?” Fuck, this cheese had the consistency of glue. I kept chewing, but my mouth was so dry that it was turning into a thick paste. “I like being surprised,” Fisher said, spinning his fork over in his hand. “I’m also a fan of aggressive foreplay. It’ll be a fun reminder.”

“Pants and a shirt,” I said dryly. “And a pair of boots with really good soles. Do you have any idea what those boots cost me?” “Let me guess. Your virginity.” “Fuck you, Fisher.” “Sure.” He smirked. “But I’m afraid I don’t have any new boots to trade you for your time.”

Fisher looked back at me, his narrowed eyes assessing me. Gods, he was a sight to behold. Every line of him was art. With his full mouth, and the faint shadow of stubble marking his jaw, his fascinating eyes, and all of his midnight-black hair, it was hard not to look at him and ache. I had grown up in a pit of misery, where people died more often than they lived. I hadn’t seen many beautiful things in my short life. But, of all the beautiful things I had seen, Fisher was the most beautiful of all.

Fisher was the epitome of everything that was strong, and male, and powerful. He was so much more than anything I’d experienced before. He was beautiful. Looking at him made me feel like I couldn’t catch my breath.

“I don’t hate your kind. I’m just disappointed by how breakable you are. If I held you down and fucked you the way I’m imagining fucking you right now, I doubt that you’d survive it.”

“That your body is betraying you in other ways. That I can smell you, Little Osha, and I’m thinking about drinking the sweet nectar you’re making for me straight from the fucking cup.”

I hated this male. Hated him with every fiber of my being. But curse me, I wanted him just as bad.

Fisher was death incarnate, and he was coming right for me.

“Nothing you can say or do will incentivize me to smash my genitals against this saddle any harder or faster than they’re already being smashed.” “Feeling a little sore, human?” “Sore doesn’t come close,” I grumbled. “I’ll happily kiss all of your aches and pains better for you once we strike camp. I’ve been told my mouth has healing properties. Especially when administered between a pair of thighs.”

To me, Kingfisher was a surly, foul-mouthed bastard who I wouldn’t piss on even if he was on fire. To everyone inside this tavern, he was a living fucking god.

“I slept with him months ago. Months. It was once, and I was drunk, and he’s never let me live it down since. There is no way you can still smell me on him.” “There’s every way,” Fisher rumbled, his eyes darkening. “I’d know the smell of you anywhere. On anyone. I’d know it blind and in the dark. Across a fucking sea. I’d be able to scent you—”

“For the record, I’d never use an injury as an excuse to sneak my way into a bed,” Fisher said. His voice was even closer now. I could almost feel the brush of his lips against the shell of my ear. “I’ve never had a problem securing myself an invite.” He was so sure of himself. His arrogance went beyond the pale. “Well, don’t count on an invite from me,” I snapped, drawing the sheets up even higher beneath my chin. Fuck me. That smile. Slightly open-mouthed, flashing the smallest hint of pointed teeth. I had to be so, so careful around that smile. It would wreck me if I let it. “Mm. You’re right. I don’t think you will invite me. When the time comes, I think you’ll beg—”

“You know what’d really piss him off?” I knew he wasn’t talking about Onyx. “Just don’t, Carrion.” “Revenge fucking on his bed.” I shoved a piece of apple into my mouth. “Oh, yeah, sure. Sounds like a great idea. Idiot. What do you think he’d do to you if you fucked someone in his bed?” Carrion waggled his eyebrows. “I think he’d never know.” I nearly choked on the apple. “Oh, he’d know.”

HAah youre an idiot carrion

“If I was evil, I’d have used your oath to my advantage by now.” “You have,” I spat. “Have I?” He looked genuinely curious. “Yes!” “I’ve compelled you three times. All three times, I think you’ll find it was for your own good.” “That’s a horrible excuse! You—” “If I were evil and using your oath for my own purposes, I’d order you onto your knees for me,” he said, cutting me off. “I’d order you to part your legs for me. I’d order you to suck and fuck me until you passed out from exhaustion. Is that what you want, Little Osha?”

“You’re out of your fucking mind,” I whispered. “That’s what they tell me. But I don’t know. Aside from the relentless chatter in my head, personally, I think I’m doing just fine.” “I don’t want you, Fisher.” “You’re thinking about my hands sliding up the insides of your thighs right now,” he said. “About my fingers slipping inside the wet folds of you. Working against your swollen clit, rubbing you until you’re panting and whimpering, begging for me to sink my cock into your—”

Black shadows spilled from Fisher’s fingers. Smoke roiled up the table legs and swept across the tabletop like morning mist rolling across a field. It swallowed our food, the wicker basket, everything. With a crash, the table flipped, toppling to the floor, and then Fisher was on his feet, lifting me out of my chair, lifting me from the ground… crossing the tent. My back slammed up against something solid and hard—a bookcase?—but it wasn’t the shock of the pain that ripped the air from my lungs. It was Fisher’s mouth. His lips crashed down onto mine.

I kissed him back like my life depended on it.

“I know that you want me.” I didn’t step back, even though my body was screaming at me that I should. “I can want to fuck you and still hate you, Little Osha.”

No more sniping at each other. No more thinly veiled innuendo. No more threats. This was happening because I wanted it to happen.

Fisher’s eyes flared as he grabbed the front of my pants by the waistband and pulled me roughly to him. “You asked for this. When you’re sore from coming so hard and you can’t recall your own name, remember that, Little Osha.”

Fisher bowed his head, leaning into me, his mouth so close to mine. “When you take all of me, remember to breathe.”

“I’m going to make you pant for me, Little Osha. And when we’re done, I’ll close my eyes and replay the sound of you moaning in my head every time I stroke myself to completion.” Gods. Just the thought of him touching himself…

He was absolutely fucking incredible, all hard lines and taut muscle and shifting ink.

“Let your knees fall open,” he demanded. “I—” “No arguments, Osha. I’ve driven myself half-crazy wondering what you look like. I need to fucking see. Put me out of my misery.”

I fought a wave of nerves as I let my knees fall open, and Fisher unleashed a strained growl. “Perfect. You’re absolutely fucking perfect. If Danya does rip my head off tomorrow, at least now I’ll die happy.”

The dazed look on his face was dangerous. A girl could easily find herself addicted to the expression Fisher was wearing, and what then? I’d be lost forever. Fucking doomed.

would never forget seeing him like this. If I did manage to make my way back home, the image of him like this, seated inside me, skin slick with sweat, chest hitching, would sustain me until the day I died. Fisher. Kingfisher. Lord of Cahlish. I hated him, I did. But you couldn’t hate something without caring about it just a little, too.

“Because she is moonlight. The mist that shrouds the mountains. The bite of electricity in the air before a storm. The smoke that rolls across a battlefield before the killing starts. You have no idea what she is. What she could be. You should call her Majesty.”

“Yes, of course you’ll be coming back. Bring the fox if it’ll make you feel better.” Since when did Fisher care about what I was feeling? And he was letting me bring Onyx? “Stop looking at me like that,” he said. “Why?” I asked suspiciously. “Gods and fucking sinners, never mind. Let’s just go.”

“Are you about to smile, Kingfisher of the Ajun Gate?” “What if I am?” he said in a very even, measured tone. “I can count on one hand how many times I’ve witnessed you do it. No one’s going to believe me when we get back to camp.” He did smile then, slow and rueful, head turned away as he toyed with his fork. “They’ll believe you, Little Osha. They’ve all seen me smile plenty.” “Just not recently?” I whispered. “No. Not recently. Smiling has been pretty hard of late.” His Adam’s apple bobbed. “It is getting easier, though.”

I wanted him. More than I wanted to go home.

He pulled me even closer, grip tightening around my throat, his thumb digging into my jaw, and I allowed my head to rock back. He buried his face into the crook of my neck, groaning, and the thought rose to my mind unbidden. Dangerous. Bite me.

Ruin me. The command was all he needed.

I turned my head, and my heart slowed at the sight of the tiny droplet of dried blood staining the sheets next to me. My blood. Fisher had bitten me.

Fisher closed his eyes and let the dappled sunlight play over his face. “I didn’t know how you took your coffee,” he said softly. Shit. “How long have you known I was here?” He smiled sadly. “I always know where you are, Little Osha.”