Confessions of a Dangerous Fae (The Supernatural Spy Files Book 1) Page 7

  Mum about the spear. And mum about the vaults.

  Suddenly, life in this Court started to make a lot more sense. Everyone had a furtive look about them. No one spoke of things out loud. There were meaningful glances everywhere but never meaningful words. It was hard to imagine why until now. Not everything was sunshine and roses in the Court of Wraiths. There were traitors amongst the traitors, and they didn’t know who they were.

  “Can we talk somewhere else?” I asked. There was so much I needed to know, and it seemed like Saoirse was willing to tell me—as long as there was no risk we’d be overheard.

  “There’s only one place in the castle that cannot be breached by fae ears,” she said in a low, meaningful voice.

  My stomach dropped. “The vaults.”

  She laughed. “You should see the look on your face. No, I don’t mean the vaults, though they’d work in a pinch. I meant The Royal Palace.”

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” I muttered. “What are the odds?”

  “No odds. He picked the palace for his living quarters for that very reason, as did all the masters and royals before him.” She clenched my arm and lowered her voice. “It’s the only place in the castle where he can...”

  “Where he can what?” I asked, breathless.

  Her eyes flashed with something. I knew she was trying to communicate with me without words, but we still hardly knew each other. I didn’t understand what she was trying to say at all.

  “Read his books.”

  8

  A new day and a new mission. I was once again going to talk my way into Lugh’s room and rifle through his books. There were answers in the millions of pages he had in there, though I had no idea where to start looking.

  But when it came time for cleaning assignments, Selma was insistent that King Lugh’s quarters did not need cleaning until the next Thursday. It had only been two days, and his head might explode if we stacked his books again already.

  Instead, Imogen and I were assigned to tackle the large stretch of garden that backed up onto the western defences. They were high stone battlements that stretched around the castle’s edge, looking out over a sheer cliff. Even in January, the grass needed to be clipped and weeds had to be yanked out of the soft ground.

  Just behind us were two more buildings that formed a square, earlier residential quarters that were no longer in use. Saoirse had told me in hushed whispers that the buildings had been abandoned since the witch trials. Humans in search of magical culprits had stormed the castle and set the buildings ablaze. Fae had been trapped inside, and no one had wanted to rebuild the place, not even Lugh.

  Instead, he’d left the square as it was, as a memorial, and had named it Mag Mell.

  I was surprised to learn he was that sensitive.

  “Can I ask you a question?” I asked Imogen as I blew a stray strand of hair out of my face. “How’d you end up here in the Court of Wraiths?”

  Imogen stiffened, but then kept on pulling weeds. “The King likes to collect strays.”

  I leaned back on my heels and cocked a brow. “Strays?”

  “Yeah, like you. Solitaries.” She shook her head and tossed a weed onto the growing pile. “Or runaways, fae fleeing from abuse, criminals, and those with useless gifts.”

  “Criminals?” I asked, startled, even though I shouldn’t have been. Of course Lugh welcomed them into his Court. It was just the kind of thing he’d do. Hell, I was halfway convinced he was engaged in criminal activity himself.

  “Former criminals, for the most part,” she corrected. “Like me. I was a thief. Humans were mostly my targets, but I stole from fae, too. I even had a wanted poster with my photo on it, back in Glasgow. I had to leave to get the heat off me.”

  “And Lugh gave you a place to stay.”

  “Me and a bunch of others. I think he believes we can be rehabilitated.” She chuckled. “I don’t actually agree with him on that, you know? I haven’t been able to completely stop. Why do you think I’m part of the cleaning crew? I can’t be trusted with something more important, like guarding the castle or taking care of out-of-control vampires in the city.”

  Wiping the sweat off my brow, I regarded Imogen carefully. This had given me some food for thought, and I didn’t know whether it was the good kind of food, like pizza, or the bad, like rotting meat. Lugh took in the unwanted, or at least the fae who felt they weren’t wanted. That was kind of sweet. But a bunch of dangerous criminals under one roof had the potential to create a pretty toxic environment. Imogen was only a thief, but what kind of crimes did the others have under their belts?

  Were there any murderers? I shuddered.

  When we were done, my hands were bright green and in desperate need of a wash. I headed straight back to my room, eager to get back inside for the first time since I’d arrived here. Saoirse caught me along the way, falling into step beside me, and looking about five million times more put together than I was.

  I had yet to determine what her role here was in the Court of Wraiths. Her gift was a mystery, and there was something different about the magic that pulsed around her. She read as fae to me, but something else, something I couldn’t quite put my finger on...

  “How are you settling in?” She nodded toward my hands. “Looks like you’ve had a busy day.”

  “Garden duty,” I said. “Better than washing dishes but not as good as swinging steel.”

  “You think any more about what I mentioned yesterday?”

  She was referring to her hint about Lugh, no doubt. Truth be told, I’d spent a lot of time thinking about her little puzzle, mostly when I’d been ripping weeds out of the ground. It had been therapeutic in a way. There’s nothing quite like destroying things to make your life seem less full of suck. But I hadn’t gotten anywhere on her hint.

  “No,” I admitted, coming to a stop outside my bedroom door. “Can you maybe be less cryptic?”

  She thought for a moment. “Maybe. I might be able to give you...”

  Saoirse trailed off when I opened my door. My room was trashed.

  “Blimey,” Saoirse whispered. “Stay here. I’ll be back in a mo.”

  I edged into the room while she vanished down the hallway. The glass window had been shattered. The bedsheets had been sliced in half, and the old, sagging mattress had been ripped to shreds. The desk had been overturned. The rug had been yanked away from the floor. Even some of the floorboards had been pried open to reveal a cold empty darkness below.

  Shivering, I took a step toward it and peered down. I couldn’t see a damn thing. If a Sluagh hand reached up right now...

  “Moira?” King Lugh sauntered inside. He took one look around the room and whisked me into his arms. I yelped as he carried me out into the hallway and deposited me into a heap on the floor. Pain lanced through my bum. And then he slammed the door behind him. An unexpected concern flickered across his features.

  I blinked up at him, dazed. “Are you serious right now? You can’t just yank me into your arms and then throw me onto the floor! I know you’re the King of this castle, but I—”

  A muffled pfffffft echoed from inside the room. Blue smoke drifted out through the cracks around the door. Lugh reached down, launched me to my feet, and dragged me even further down the hallway. Everyone else who happened to witness Lugh’s startled reaction followed suit, rushing away from the mysterious cloud.

  “Hmm.” Saoirse shot Lugh a frown when we were a safe distance away from the blue smoke. “That I didn’t see coming.”

  I shook my arms until I was free of Lugh’s grip. “Is someone going to explain to me what the hell is going on?”

  “It seems that someone doesn’t like you,” Lugh said dryly, his cocky boredom quickly replacing whatever concern I’d thought I’d seen in his expression.

  “No shit,” I said with narrowed eyes. “It doesn’t take a puff of blue smoke for me to figure that out.”

  “It’s not blue smoke,” Saoirse whispered. “It’s a sorcerer’s potion. I’ve s
een it before. It’s supposed to make you...” She cleared her throat. “Pliable.”

  I scrunched my eyebrows. “Pliable?”

  Lugh coughed, and I could have sworn his sharp cheekbones looked just a tad more on the pink side than they normally did. “It’s called Sapphire. Consider it the magical equivalent of the human ecstasy drug, although it seems to heighten libido even more.”

  “Oh.” My own cheeks got hot. “Who the hell would put a magical libido potion in my bedroom?”

  Probably not a question I wanted answered, if I were being honest. A secret admirer, trying to catch me unaware? Not that I really thought I had one of those inside the castle. Only a few fae had even bothered to talk to me, much less try to woo me into bed. Or maybe it had been the hobgoblin. This was exactly the type of trick they liked to pull.

  “The heightened libido isn’t the focus, in this case,” Lugh answered, jaw rippling. “Whoever left this here only wanted to make you pliable.”

  “You sound really sure of that.”

  “This isn’t the first time it’s happened,” Saoirse added. “There’s, ah...” And then she clamped her mouth shut.

  “We should all leave this hallway before the vapours reach us.” Lugh turned to Saoirse, speaking over my head as if I weren’t even there. “We’ll need to move Moira out of this room and into another. Let’s cordon this one off for the foreseeable future. And we’ll need to burn the sheets, and her clothes. Otherwise, the effects will be impossible to get rid of.”

  “Um, hi,” I said, raising a single finger. “No burning my clothes, please. I only have a couple extra shirts with me, and I would like to not walk around naked.”

  “You can borrow something of mine for now,” Saoirse said. “Let’s get you to your new room, and I’ll find something for you to wear.”

  My new room sat on the very top floor where the heating system had failed months ago. There was a tiny electric radiator in one corner, but it did little the warm the space. Other than that, it was almost exactly the same as the other room. Same bed, similar blankets, and a very threadbare rug that matched.

  Saoirse gave me an apologetic smile. “Unfortunately, we don’t have any open rooms on the floors below, but I’ll see what I can do about finding you somewhere warmer soon.”

  “I don’t mind. Honestly.” I stopped her just before she turned to go. “Saoirse, what’s the real deal about that smoke bomb? You said it’s happened before.”

  She nodded, nibbling on her bottom lip. “Yeah, and that’s why you don’t have to worry. It wasn’t aimed toward you. Several other fae have been hit with it, including me.”

  I arched a brow. “You got hit with it?”

  “Yeah, I’m close with Lugh, and...” She shook her head. “What I can say out loud is that there are rumours going around that you and Lugh are...” Her cheeks went red as she cleared her throat. “You know. Involved.”

  Bloody Imogen. We were going to have to have a chat later.

  “We’re not involved,” I said quickly.

  “Oh, I know,” Saoirse piped. “But not everyone will.”

  Ah. I understood what she meant now. Some of the fae would believe the rumours and think I had some kind of ‘in’ with the King. That I would have knowledge or access, and they would be able to get to him through me, because that bomb would make me pliable.

  So, Saoirse hadn’t been wrong when she’d warned me earlier. Not everyone in this castle could be trusted.

  That included me.

  It had been a few days since I’d checked in with Clark, and I’d come up with a plan to get some information into her lap. All I needed was a few moments alone outside to find her raven. It would no doubt be searching the skies, waiting for a moment it could approach me.

  Luckily, everyone was so distracted by the smoke bomb that they didn’t notice me sneaking out of my upstairs room. Saoirse had forgotten to lock it for once. She probably felt sorry for me. A tinge of guilt went through me. I was using her empathy to my advantage, which didn’t feel great...well, I’d just have to brush it aside for now.

  In my drawer, I’d been relieved to find another notebook and pen. I wasn’t able to write down anything useful, but I’d come up with a system of numbers. Numbers that should mean something to Clark. She might be confused at first, but I was certain she’d figure it out.

  I pushed the door open and dashed across the cobblestone courtyard. The raven perched on the tip of the horse statue’s long snout. The paper rippled in my fingers. I was glad the bird was out here, waiting for me. It wouldn’t take long for someone to notice I’d gone missing.

  A dark shadow loomed from behind the statue. Heart constricting, I slowed to a stop, suddenly realising how very alone I was out here. My sword had been stowed away somewhere inside of the castle, out of my reach. If the fae behind the smoke bomb had followed me out here...

  When the moonlight splashed onto the lurker’s face, I gasped. Lugh stepped out of the shadows, his entire form hidden beneath a long black cloak. He strode toward me, the heavy fabric rustling against the cobblestones.

  “I thought I might find you out here, yet I hoped I wouldn’t,” he said in a low growl.

  Unease flickered through me, but I squared my shoulders. “What’s the big deal? I’m tired of being locked up in my room, and I want some fresh air.”

  He narrowed his eyes as his cloak fluttered in the light wind. For a split second, I could see inside the folds. He didn’t have a spear. Thank the Morrigan. Not that I actually thought he would use it against me. Now, more than ever, I was convinced he’d been the one in the vaults.

  Why had he helped me fight the Sluagh? Who the hell knew. This male was a hard one to figure out.

  “You were rushing around like you have somewhere to be, not like you wanted a leisurely evening stroll,” he pointed out. “What’s that in your hand?”

  Bollocks. The note for Clark. I crumpled the ball and wound my hands around my back. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Give that to me.” He closed the space between us and wrapped his arms around my back, digging his fingernails deep into my wrists. A flutter went through my stomach as his body pressed tight against mine. Electrifying magic shot through my veins. I gasped when he kept me close, wrenching my hand toward his eyes.

  I still had a fistful of parchment.

  “A note. To whom?” Without another word, he nipped at my hand. A tremor went through me at the feel of his mouth on my skin, and instinctively, my grip on the paper loosened. An evil grin stretched across his face, and he took the note from my fingers with his teeth.

  “I thought that might work,” he murmured.

  I swallowed hard, my eyes locked on where his lips pressed against the sheet of paper, like a strange kiss.

  Slowly, he stepped back and extracted the note from his mouth. All I could do was watch, eagerly drinking in his every move. There was something so...otherworldly about him. His movements were fluid and strong. Everything about him screamed power and confidence. If this male had a weakness, I certainly couldn’t see what it was.

  Other than he was an arsehole traitor, of course. Couldn’t forget about that...

  He frowned as his eyes tripped across the parchment. “What is this? What do these numbers mean?”

  I tried to bite back a smile. The blood contract might be a pain in my arse, but at least it had kept him from discovering the truth about why I was here.

  “Sizes,” I chirped. “Since you had to destroy all my clothes, I wanted to go shopping in town. Unfortunately, a very controlling King caught me on my way.”

  “You said you wanted fresh air.” His eyes narrowed. “And you needed to write down your own sizes in order to buy yourself some clothes?”

  “These are Saoirse’s sizes,” I lied, hoping he wouldn’t have a clue about female clothes and the fact she was an entire dress size smaller than I was. “We aren’t exactly the same size and the clothes she lent me are a little tight. I thought I’d g
rab something for her, too. As a thanks. For being the only fae in this castle who seems to give a damn about me.”

  He let out a frustrated sigh and ran a hand through his thick raven hair. “I can see we haven’t been particularly welcoming to you, have we?”

  I barked out a laugh, more from surprise that he’d actually asked than because of the question itself. “Seriously? You forced me to do a dangerous trial, one that could have killed me. You locked me up in a room for hours on end without anyone else to talk to. You practically threw a broom at me instead of letting me train what I’m good at—fighting with my sword. And then someone bombed my room, for who knows what reason. Do you think that’s welcoming?”

  The words rushed out of me like an avalanche of thoughts, feelings, and emotions. I hadn’t meant to speak so plainly. I hadn’t even realised how frustrated I was. This was a spying mission, after all. Who cared if these fae wanted to have anything to do with me? Who cared if this false King hated me or not?

  I certainly didn’t. Not even a little bit.

  “I see.”

  Was that his only response? I crossed my arms and glared at him.

  “You need some clothes.” He handed me the crumpled parchment. “Only a few shops will be open this late. I’ll accompany you down the hill to the High Street.”

  I got a double dose of relief and frustration. Sure, I was glad he’d bought my story, but I was getting sick and tired of being chaperoned everywhere I went. Plus, I hadn’t actually meant to go into town for clothes tonight at all. I wanted to get my note to the raven and return to my snooping duties inside the castle. “Is that really necessary?”

  “Yes,” he said emphatically. “You will either accept my company into town, or you can go back to your room for the rest of the night. You got your fresh air. Best stay inside where it’s safe.”

  I propped my fists on my hips. Damn him. I didn’t actually care about the clothes. Saoirse had lent me enough that could stretch to fit me, and Lugh was right. It was late. The options were pretty limited. With a heavy sigh, I glanced back at the castle buildings and then toward the looming gate outside of the square. I couldn’t bear another long night locked up in a room with nothing but the television to keep me company.