Brimstone (Fae & Alchemy, #2)

by Callie Hart

Humans were not good at taming their feelings. They felt everything so rudely, right out in the open, with no awareness of how their reactions might affect those with finer senses.

“They’re going to… destroy her, you know? It has already… been seen. This court will… fall… with her inside it.” His lips twisted, either a grin of relief or a sneer of contempt, I couldn’t tell.

“Saeris is safe,” I snapped. “I won’t let anything happen to her.”

And he could have his reasons, so long as none of them involved him harboring any sort of hope that Saeris was going to confess her undying love for him. That wasn’t happening.

“What—what are you doing?” he panted. “What do you think I’m doing?” I snarled. “I’m saving the fucking fox!”

He’d climbed the mountain. For her. He’d snuck through Irrín and crossed the river. For her.

He must have been tired and ready to give up, but he was still coming. For her. And I was not about to let that little fox die.

There was no stopping. If we stopped, we died. I grabbed a fistful of Bill’s mane and prayed to the gods I hated for the second time in less than a week. Save the fox. Save Bill. Save the fox.

I knew the hard defiance she wore on her like a shield, but I hadn’t met her grief yet. It was an unwelcome stranger I wanted to banish as soon as possible; its presence in the room made my chest ache.

Despite his injuries, the little fox writhed in Carrion’s arms, determined to reach his destination at last. Only when he was safe, pressed up against Saeris’s chest, did the tension seem to leave his body.

“If you have to do it, then at least make sure it’s quick.” A band of iron cinched tight around my chest. She thought I was going to put the poor creature out of its misery. She thought that, and she had still handed him over to me. She’d trusted me to do what had needed to be done, to save her companion from pain… I shook my head, smiling softly. “I told you. He’s going to be fine, Osha. I promise.”

“Fisher!” “A moment, Osha,” I said. “Trust me. This won’t take long.”

“Don’t you know? There isn’t much I wouldn’t sacrifice to make you happy, Osha. A little healing magic is the least of it.”

Gods, she was fucking beautiful. “Oh no,” I muttered softly. “I still think he’d made a great hat.”

THE DRESS WAS made for sinning.

The fabric clung to my frame like a second skin, shimmering when it caught the light as if tailored from the night sky itself. Long gloves of the same material covered my arms as if I’d dipped them past the elbows into shimmering ink. This was nothing like any of the ensembles Everlayne had dressed me in when I’d first arrived at the Winter Palace. This was elegant. Stunning. Painfully sexy.

“I don’t know a single person stupid enough to hit on a newly bonded female, let alone a God-Bound female. But to do it right in front of her mate? In front of him?” he added, jerking his chin toward the last male leaning against the wall by the door. I paused before allowing myself to look at him. Paused before I even allowed myself to think his name. Kingfisher. My mate.

They had reached the chair and were weaving up its legs toward Carrion when I let out a sigh, folding my arms across my chest. “Fisher.” His eyes came alive at the sound of my voice. “Hmm?” “Stop.” His nostrils flared, his jaw working.

“And I can’t help it if you aren’t falling over yourself to compliment your girlfriend,” Carrion countered, raising his glass at Kingfisher. Oh, gods. This was going to be bad.

Taladaius was light, his mood often easier than it had any reason to be. There were counterweights, perhaps. Different sides to the same coin? But also different currencies. Vampire. Fae. Maker. Mate.

“I’m not here by anyone’s good graces. I’m here because my mate is here. Where she goes, I go.

But Fisher came back and stood before me, ignoring my maker. His huge frame filled my vision. Dark hair, strong jaw, and beautiful ink. Not too long ago, I’d dreamed of him standing close to me like this. My fool’s heart had craved him more than my lungs had craved air… and now that he was mine and I was his, my need for him had only intensified. He had saved Onyx for me. He had risked his life for me, and from the look on his face now, he wouldn’t blink if he had to do it again.

“She doesn’t need a garrote,” Taladaius objected. “It isn’t a garrote. It’s a belt,” Fisher replied amicably. In my head, he said, It’s a garrote. I tried not to laugh.

He took one of his own daggers from the sheath at his waist, then dropped down to one knee in front of me. He looked up, his eyes locking with mine again, burning with a myriad of emotions as he slowly… carefully… parted the material of the dress along the slit to expose my bare thigh. Taladaius threw his hands in the air. “There’s no time for this!” “Oh, I don’t know. I think we might be able to spare a minute,” Carrion said. I saw Fisher’s annoyance spike, but he didn’t react. His touch left a trail of burning fire as he ran his hand up my thigh.

“If any of them even look sideways at you, you stick that straight in their chests.” “I know how a dagger works, Fisher.” Most couples flirted by making eyes at each other or complimenting each other’s outfits. We did it by discussing how best to murder our enemies.

Fisher’s warmth was a reassuring hand on my back. On my left, Carrion hovered in my peripheral vision. I looked at neither of them as I tilted my chin back and held my head high, beginning the long descent down the stairs toward the vampires of Sanasroth.

A god sword will make worm food out of any of us, no matter who wields it. But, regardless,” I called in a clear voice. “I am no child. My name is Saeris Fane, and I am your queen.”

You can own your fantasies with me, Little Osha. There is nothing in this realm or the next that I won’t give to you if you desire it. All you ever need do is ask.

That I was giving something to him instead. I blinked as black ink shifted beneath Fisher’s skin, pouring like water down his arm. It banded his wrist and then disappeared, transferring to me. I felt the cool prickle of it settling right in the center of my chest, just below my collarbone, but I didn’t care about the new ink.

He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye, and the primal hunger I saw there landed like a physical blow. He was barely in control of himself. If I touched him— “Don’t even think about it, or I’ll take you right here,” he panted. Holy. Fucking. Gods.

THERE WAS A new tattoo on her chest: a thin black line that marked her skin from one shoulder to the other, right below her collarbone. Just a simple line, but somehow striking.

It was my own fucking fault. I should have told her. I should have explained.

“I am ruler of this court, and I will be heard!” She stood at the edge of the dais, beautiful and terrible as a storm, the air rippling and distorting around her. I wasn’t a member of the Sanasrothian Court, but even my ears rang with her authority.

I need to stay fit, and I still need to learn how to wield Solace properly. The sword is so heavy, I can barely hold it. Fisher didn’t even bat an eyelid. Done. Though you might want to train with Lorreth,

Why not you? He gave me the faintest look of reproval, as if I should already know the answer to this. I can run drills with you, Osha. I can raise a sword to you and pull my blows. I can show you footwork and teach you about warcraft. What I cannot do is attack you like it’s real. And that’s what you need, if you truly want to learn how to fight with a sword.

And I will never come at you with everything I’ve got. You are my mate. I’m in love with you. I couldn’t do that even if I wanted ...

Carrion rolled his eyes. He huffed as he made his way across the council chamber and reached out for my wrist— Kingfisher was suddenly there, angled in front of me. Surprisingly, his expression was blank. “Do you like having fingernails, Carrion?” he asked politely. “I—” Carrion gaped. “I do, actually.”

“She isn’t my girlfriend. She’s my mate,” Fisher said quite amicably. “And if any part of your body, literally any part of it, comes into contact with hers, then I will remove it.”

Carrion had known precisely what it was. “Oh,” I whispered. The mark, an X behind the female’s earlobe, had once been a simple tattoo, but now it was made of knotted veins, bulging up beneath the skin. They looked necrotic, and they pulsed, echoing with the memory of a heartbeat that no longer fed them. My hand raised of its own accord, moving to my neck and the small black cross hidden behind my hair. I couldn’t say the words. Fisher did it, albeit a little breathlessly. “Your sterilization mark? Is that what…” He nodded to the head that Lorreth still held. “Does she have it, too?” I nodded.

“Danya,” I answered. “Where’s the redhead?” “Who?” “The annoying male with witty comebacks.” “You think Carrion is funny?” Danya rolled her eyes. “Never mind.”

Across the dining room, I felt the weight of Fisher’s eyes on me. He stood with Ren, head bowed as he listened to his friend, but his focus was all for me.

Because I could smell him, too. Bruised herbs. Citrus. Smoke. Leather. Pine, and cold mountain air.

Archer had damn near had a heart attack when he’d discovered me sitting in the seat on Fisher’s right—but that was precisely where he led me now, as he guided me to the table.

“I love you, Fisher.” It was the first time I’d said it. “I love you, and nothing else matters beyond that. Wherever you are, I’ll beg the gods and all the fates to let me be there, too,” I whispered.

He had a level of faith in me that I had struggled to have in myself over the past few days. The marks on my hands didn’t move underneath my skin the way his did sometimes. They were locked in place, the lines beautiful and intricate. I had no idea what they meant, or what I might be capable of because of them.

A subtle hint of spices and citrus, and fire smoke.” I stared at his mouth, watching him speak, mesmerized. “And… now?” “Now, those scents are amplified a thousandfold. You smell like excitement. You smell like laughter. And peace. And love.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t liken me to the smell of melting sugar, then. Or the warmth of the sun. Or…” It was so hard to breathe properly when he was staring at me like this. “You forget that I’m a winter creature, Saeris,” Fisher murmured. “I don’t crave the attention of the sun. The snowcapped mountains, the forest, the frozen river… those places are my home. You are home.”

“I’ve killed more people than I can count. I lost the parts of myself that knew how to feel anything other than pain and sorrow centuries ago. But for better or worse, you have brought me back to life.”

“Come now, Osha. Where else would an acolyte kneel to worship but at the altar of his god?”

His eyes rolled back into his head, and Kingfisher of the Ajun Gate, slayer of the last dragon and Lord of Cahlish, obeyed me.