Quicksilver (Fae & Alchemy, #1)

by Callie Hart

There he was, sitting at a table on the far side of the tavern with three of his dim-witted friends, his back to the corner so he could keep a weather eye on the crowd. 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.

“Not only did you break your word, but you beat the living shit out of him, Carrion.” “Ahh, come on. Don’t be so sour.” He held out his hands, palms up, fingers splayed. “He begged me to play with him. Who am I to say no? And if I’d beaten the living shit out of him, I wouldn’t have seen your little brother sulking around by the bar just now, would I? He’d still be out on the street, spitting blood into the sand. I hit him…” He thought about it. “Once. Maybe twice. That only qualifies as a light beating. And what’s a light beating between friends?”

“You’re pretty when you blush, y’know.”

“I didn’t realize I was such a burden,” he whispered. “Well, you are, Hayden. Your entire fucking life, that’s all you’ve been. Now leave me alone. Don’t follow. Do not come looking for me. GO!”

“This is the part where… you scream… Captain.”

“If you die before you can give this back, I’m not going to be happy,”

“What about you is magic?” “Everything,” he said, entering the room. “My looks. My sword skills. My personality—” “Your personality is trash.”

“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.”

“You can pull away at any time. Looks to me like you’re choosing to stay. It also looks like you’re having to stop yourself from touching me. You want to touch me the way I’m touching you, don’t you? To feel the weight of me beneath your palms. The heat of me…”

“I taught you a valuable lesson that will serve you well for the rest of your very short human life in this realm. Always pay attention to the fine print. The devil’s in the details.

“Just so that you’re fully equipped with all of the facts,” he said in a smooth tone. “I’m only half insane.

“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—”

“Mm. You’re right. I don’t think you will invite me. When the time comes, I think you’ll beg—”

he’s not going to be happy about it.” “When is Fisher happy about anything?”

“She’s mine,” Fisher said.

“You never wore the dresses I put out for you,” he murmured into my hair. “I don’t want to talk about dresses,” I whispered. “Fair enough. Let’s talk about food, then.” “Food?” He nodded. “Don’t share food with that prick again, Little Osha.”

I was beginning to. Beginning to figure him out. And how many times had Ren said it? I know him. This isn’t who he is. He’s not himself right now. This was all a front. Like a veil slowly being drawn back, I was starting to see right through it. “You don’t hate me as much as you pretend to,” I said. He stepped toward me, leonine, predatory, dangerous. “Don’t I?” “No, you don’t.” “That’s an interesting theory.” “I don’t think you hate me at all.” He laughed but took another step forward. “You think very highly of yourself, then, don’t you?” “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.”

I hated him, I did. But you couldn’t hate something without caring about it just a little, too.

“Witch,” he accused. “You do have magic.”

“Don’t call her Sunshine,” he commanded.

“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.”

“You do get used to it, y’know,” Lorreth said conversationally. “That overwhelming sense of impending doom. Eventually, it becomes background noise. You don’t even notice it at all.”

“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.”

There were memories that could be put into words, even if it felt like dying to give them light and air.

Fuck me with your fingers. Choke me. Hold me down and ride me until I scream.

I’ll make you beg, Little Osha. I’ll fill every one of those pretty little holes. I’ll fuck you so hard, you’ll never want another male ever again.

Every warrior in Irrín will smell me on you, Fisher’s voice rumbled in my mind. I’m going to make you hoarse from screaming my fucking name. I’m going to mark you in every way imaginable, so that everyone knows you’re fucking mine.

I became pieces of myself, and Fisher was the only thing that held me together.

“How long have you known I was here?” He smiled sadly. “I always know where you are, Little Osha.”

“Is this the kind of thing you imagine me wearing often?” “When I imagine you, Little Osha, you’re very rarely wearing clothes.”

It was Everlayne. And she was flanked by at least a hundred vampires.

“All names hold power in this place. Every name means something. We have true names that we don’t share with anyone. Not our friends. Not our families. Our mothers are often the only people who actually know it. And even a mother might use her child’s name to her own advantage in the pursuit of power. This place—it’s fucked, okay. And you show up, and you have one fucking name, and everybody knows it. And I couldn’t say it because I was scared. Of what it would do to me when I did. It would be like acknowledging you were here after all this time.

I called you Osha instead. But it meant more, Saeris. To me, it meant more.”

“Most sacred,” he repeated, whispering the words.

you’d shine so brilliantly that you’d light up hell itself and guide me out of the darkness.

Make me forget that I’ve ever suffered, I commanded. Make me forget that I will again.

My soul was on fire, and I didn’t care if I burned for all eternity. So long as I was burning with him, then so be it.

“Nobody will ever fuck you the way I’m about to fuck you, Saeris Fane. I’m about to introduce you to all seven gods. When you meet them, don’t forget to tell them I’m the one you worship on your knees.”

“I’ll be grateful for every second that I can say that I belong to you, Saeris Fane. Eighty years or eighteen hours. It doesn’t matter to me. It’ll still be the highest honor of my life.

“When we were here last time, you said that the people of Ballard had something you needed. But you never got it,” I whispered. Fisher gently kissed my forehead, and all around us, the flickering candle flames started to blink out. “Yes, I did,” he said. I barely heard his next words as I drifted away. “I came for a little hope.”

I’ve never been one to trust in the gods, but I choose to believe that all things come from the same place when life begins. I have hope that they return to the same place when it ends.

I’ll make your undying existence an unending agony. An eternity of suffering the likes of which even your evil mind cannot comprehend. You’ll know no peace at my hands. I will destroy your empire and erase your name from the annals of time. When I am done with your legacy, Madra the Undying will never have existed. And you’ll live on at my behest, suffering for all of eternity. And no one will know. And no one will care.”

My love. Of all the things Malcolm could have called him…

we’d have time after this life. That there was more for us.

He is the storm. You are the peace that must come after it. Tell me, do you believe in the fates, Alchemist?

You stand before a door. Your hand is poised to knock. Are you ready to walk through it? Will you leave this place and see what lies beyond in the next?

“There are two kinds of forever, Alchemist. One is heaven. The other is hell.

One foot in front of the other, Fisher rumbled, just for me. Let’s make it through today. And then tomorrow. And then the day after.