Brimstone (Fae & Alchemy, #2)

by Callie Hart

“Never heard the term,” Tal said. “It doesn’t really matter what it is, I suppose, just so long as it isn’t here anymore. You need to throw it into a very deep pit or something.” “And where might I find one of those?” “Beyond the western ridge. Ride for thirty minutes in that direction and you’ll find plenty of holes in the ground.”

I love you. I am proud of you. Now give her back the book.

And sure, the female was dead, but I still wanted her to like me. I was in love with her son, after all.

Should the wine be laced with newborns’ blood or adolescent virgins’ blood? (I had answered definitively that the wine should not be laced with any blood, and that anyone found bleeding newborns would be chained to a post and left outside to greet the dawn.)

“Oh gods, no, Archer. You don’t have to worry about that, I promise. I don’t have any staff from my house. I didn’t even have a house back in Zilvaren—” “It’s true,” Carrion said. “She was as feral as a hellcat. She would slink through any open window and take a nap when she could.” I gave him a look. “Yes, thank you, Carrion.

“You would never have spoken to me again. And anyway… I know you, Saeris Fane. Even as a fragile human, you were strong. Independent. It would have crushed your spirit if I had sheltered you from this world. Your choices had to be your own. I saw that in the end. I see it now, too. Every day. You have a right to walk the road that stretches out before you. I will not rob you of your path by insisting I carry you.”

He turned, hands in the air, wiggling his hips side to side in a little dance that seemed far braver than normal. When he had completed his dance, he cleared his throat and said rather seriously, “I am one inch taller than I used to be.” “Oh. Uh… congratulations? Well done,” I told him. He bowed his head, accepting the compliment.

“I actually did want you to tell me not to worry,” I admitted. “Can you rephrase all of that for me, please?”

“A lesser male would sink his teeth into you right here and now and fuck you until you screamed.” Her tongue darted out, wetting her lips. I could see her pulse thrumming in the hollow of her throat. “A lesser female would beg you to,” she answered.

“A queen should never enter into a political setting feeling stressed, Osha,” I purred. “I’m helping, I promise.”

“Do you love me?” “What! That… isn’t fair.” “Do you?” “Yes! Of course I love you.” I grinned wolfishly at her reflection. “A part of loving me is yielding sometimes.”

Yes, it was primal. Yes, it was petty. No, it was not very progressive of me to want to mark her in this way. I didn’t fucking care.

“Behold! Saeris Fane, first of her name. Scion of no one. Rise for your queen!”

Fucking Zovena. I was going to ash her one of these days and wear her fangs as fucking earrings.

I’m pretty sure you just shattered her jaw, I said into Saeris’s head. She’ll recover, was my mate’s acerbic reply.

“Keeper of Pain,” the female said, eyes glittering, voice a little shaky. “I would like to be the Keeper of Pain.”

“My name is Foley Briarstone, and I have come to be of service to my queen.” But his dubious expression said something else entirely. I hope you know what you’re doing, half-breed.

“I only tried to make you see reason. The Hazrax does not count in this instance. It does not weigh in on politics. Nor does it ever opt to cast its vote. This male would do both, and to the detriment of this court. If he will not swear fealty—” “It was Malcolm I wouldn’t swear fealty to,” Foley said softly. “I’ll swear it to her.” Well, damn. I hadn’t been expecting that. We’d come a long way from him trying to kill me in the library, it would seem.

As one, the Blood Court craned their necks upward, and they marveled.

“Dancing is like fighting, Osha. It’s also like fucking. And I pride myself on my skills in both of those arenas.”

“They’re lucky I’m not tearing you out of this dress and bending you over that fucking throne right now, Saeris,” he growled. Gods. My blood pounded in my ears. “You wouldn’t dare.” He looked at me, smile turning into something far more serious. His eyelids lowered, a lazy hunger suddenly lurking in his eyes. “You’re right,” he agreed. “I wouldn’t want to ruin the dress.”

Fisher came to a stop in front of a small round table that stood before a particularly graphic wall hanging. I looked up at the hanging, squinting at the bacchanalia it depicted. “What’s the male doing to that goat?” I asked. “Ignore the goat,” Fisher said in a chiding tone.

“You are blameless. Whatever horrors you committed were forced upon you. Malcolm knew how much it would tear you up inside.” Tal closed his eyes, more tears cutting tracks down his cheeks, his features crumpling. “You have to let me…” he whispered. “You’ll forgive yourself,” Foley insisted. “You will. And in the meantime, you can take that misplaced sense of guilt and use it to make amends. Help fix what Malcolm used you to break, Tal. There is still hope.”

I was about halfway through the story when Carrion hurried into the dining room, carrying a small blue pot full of dirt and a sharp dagger clamped between his teeth. He stopped in his tracks when he saw the group of us gathered around the table. “I missed something,” he said carefully around the blade. “I definitely missed something.”

Swift wouldn’t be any less of a buffoon if I kept treating him like one. I didn’t like it, but his comment back in Zilvaren had struck a chord. Carrion’s eyebrows shot up. “I was actually just going to take some clippings of the plants out—” “Sit down, Carrion.” A smile slowly began to spread across his face. “You want me to stay. You missed me.”

“Will it kill him?” I demanded. She dropped her ward and followed at a dead sprint. “If I don’t get to him immediately, it’ll kill all of us.”

We’d survived the fall of the Blood Court and so many other impossible situations, only to fall afoul of the witch mark to end all witch marks. What a fucking joke.

“Can you come here, please?” He clenched his jaw, eyeing me suspiciously. “If I come over there, I can’t pace,” he said. “Really?” I pretended to look shocked. “Oh, no.”

I threw up my hands in defeat. “Fine. You’ve got me for ten minutes.” “Careful, sunshine,” he said, grinning. “The things I could do to you in ten minutes. Whoa, wai—wait! Ow! That hurt! I’m joking, I’m joking! I’m gonna drop my books!”

“What the hell have you been up to in here, Swift? Have you stolen all this stuff?” “What? No! How can I have stolen it if it’s all under the same roof? I’ve only relocated it. Totally different.”

“Why do you have all of these books here, anyway?” I muttered. “You can read in the library.” “Not naked, I can’t.”

“You know, you’re only the third person I have broken my silence for in over a millennium? I have to say, you’re not a very stimulating conversation partner.”

“The Randy Swine,” Lorreth said. “Excuse me?” Saeris’s eyebrows shot up. “That’s the name of the tavern we’ll be at.” “Oh. Right.”

“Gods alive,” Foley said. “You told me up on the roof, and I believed you, I did. But seeing you pine over a female in the flesh?” He shook his head, his golden fangs glinting in the muted light as he laughed at me. “I mean, it’s just something I never thought I’d see with my own two eyes.” I pulled a very dour face at him as I herded him toward the gate. “Shut up, Foley. I can’t fucking help it, okay?”

“Carrion, stop talking.” Carrion stopped talking.

“The fates scorn me,” he whispered airily. “Every time I try to die, they rob me of my peace.”

“One thousand… and sixty-three years, five months… three days…” His voice tapered to a whisper. “That’s how long it’s been since I felt the sun on my face, Saeris. If I’d gotten here an hour earlier, I would have done it. I would have jumped.” He blinked his eyelids open, a stillness falling over him as he looked out at the water. “But now?” A crooked, heartbroken smile hovered at the corners of his mouth. “How can I consign myself to another endless dark when I’ve been given back the light?” I didn’t speak. What was I supposed to say? The only thing I could do was take my friend’s hand.

“You’re not… serious? That’s a god sword now? That’s all it took?” I shrugged. “A bit of borrowed quicksilver from my blade. A little bit of magic. An abundance of good intentions.” The former vampire looked lost for words. “And it’s for me?” “Yes, it’s for you.” “What am I supposed to do with it?” “I’d recommend you start by picking it up.”

“I can’t tell you that, I’m afraid. That is between you and the gods. As for everything else, I’m not arrogant enough to declare that we’re fighting on the side of right. I hope we are, but your precious fates are going to have to be the judges of that. Either way, right or wrong, from now on, Tal, you’ll always be fighting with us.” The former Keeper of Secrets to the Blood Court of Sanasroth smiled.

“What are they singing?” “A welcome dirge,” he answered. “A traditional song of the satyrs. Nuanced. It’s the song you would sing to a family member of a dear friend you’ve lost. It’s… like a promise. That you will show the love and respect you can no longer give to your friend to the living who still share their blood. It’s complicated. The satyrs have a song for everything. They’re too dramatic and flowery for my tastes.”

Thirty seconds passed. A minute. “Well, you’d better say something,” Lorreth muttered. “All right, all right. Give me a moment. I’m trying to come up with something pithy.” Gods alive.

“Aim for short and sweet.” “Great idea. Yes. Short and sweet,” Lorreth concurred. The satyrs held their breath when Carrion opened his mouth. He swung left, then right, eyebrows creeping higher and higher toward his hairline. “My name is Carrion,” he said. “Nice to meet you all. I really like your horns.” There were historians among the crowd. Someone would record this moment—the day the satyr community received the Daianthus heir—and when they documented the first thing their Forgotten King had said to them, it would be this: I really like your horns.

I couldn’t see him, but he was here: Belikon De Barra, king of a stolen throne, oppressor of an entire court.

I kicked him square in the face as hard as I could, and the king sprawled on his ass in the snow. The obnoxious jeweled crown fell from his brow and went rolling off into the wood. “I’ve been waiting a long time to do that.”

Onyx had taken one last stuttering breath while she’d been crying. He’d shivered and let out a trembling sigh, and then he’d gone.

Saeris lifted Onyx into her arms, cradling him gently. Velvet ears tipped with black. Tiny white eyelashes. Toe pads, cracked and bleeding, again… He looked so small, curled in on himself like that. But he was not small. In all my years alive and traveling this realm, I had never encountered anything so mighty and brave as this little fox with the heart of a wolf.

“That’s it. Spit it out. Whatever you do, don’t swallow it.” Oh, gods. “What is it?” I rasped. Khy took longer than I would have liked to answer. “It’s probably best if you don’t ask,”

I’m being serious! You just attacked two people. Slowly, his hint of a smile faded, leaving behind cold, hard fury as he scowled up at the strangers who surrounded us. Well. They shouldn’t have touched you if they’d wanted to live, should they?