Yes, I can see quite clearly that Cambion still blames me for losing the war. Perhaps Revenant would blame me as well, if he had all of his memories returned to him. From what I’ve been able to understand, the stone returned some of his memories but not all. As I would not describe Revenant as “chatty,” I’m left wondering how much he does know and how much remains hidden.

  Not that it matters. I’m still hell-bent on making him part ways with us. I’m convinced there’s little he offers in the way of man-power and owing to the fact that he refuses to call himself by his true name, that is proof enough he’s not the Baron we hoped he was.

  And then there’s the subject of Eilish, of course. I do not care for this newfound interest he’s displayed in her. I preferred it when he was cool and calculating and kept his distance from all of us, yes, but from her in particular. Now the two of them appear to be inseparable and I don’t care for it one bit.

  I don’t trust him and I don’t trust him with Eilish. I see the way he looks at her—yes, it’s the same way Cambion looks at her but Cambion is so concerned with his own pride, he’ll never allow himself to act on his impulses where Eilish is concerned. Of that, I’m fairly certain. Revenant, on the other hand. I don’t know who Revenant is. While he might have been Baron in another life, he’s clearly not the same man today. And I worry about his interest in Eilish.

  What does he want from her? Why is he trying to befriend her? Why the sudden interest when all along he acted the part of aloof and uninterested?

  Eilish is innocent and unaccustomed to the ways of men, I think and then stop myself as the irony of my statement dawns on me.

  Innocent and unaccustomed to the ways of men? What the bloody fuck is wrong with me?

  She’s Succubus, for fuck’s sake! At that thought, an image of Lamia and her daughters drops into my head like a bomb.

  My hands clench into tights fists at the memory of the Succubae queen. The memories renew my hatred for Lamia’s kind, as if I’m still tethered to her vicious spell. The feeling of a thousand insects crawls beneath my skin as I realize I’m no stronger now than I was back then.

  I couldn’t keep myself away from Eilish. And, dammit, but I fucking tried.

  And now…

  Now, she’s sharing a bedchamber with Revenant. The though makes me sick to my fucking stomach.

  The sound of footfalls echoes down the narrow staircase and into the hallway that leads to the dining room. I turn to see Revenant as he rolls his shoulders and turns his head from side to side. His hair is damp and he’s wearing a black tunic over his lean frame, tucked into a pair of black, leather trousers. Clearly, he’s bathed himself and changed clothing, but there’s something else different about him. Something I can’t quite put my finger on, but it’s there all the same.

  “Where’s the dem… the girl?” Cambion demands of him. He’s refused to call Eilish by her name for the last day or so which irks me to no end. Cambion is an absolute cock and I can’t fucking stand him.

  The vampire enters the dining room and doesn’t spare any of us a glance. Instead, he takes the furthest seat. “She’s coming,” he answers simply.

  “If she escapes—” Cambion starts.

  “She won’t,” Revenant interrupts. “She’s bound… how far do you suppose she’d get?”

  “I haven’t asked questions as to why the girl appears to be your prisoner,” Raflamir begins as Saevel fills each of our glasses with something that looks and smells like mead. She looks as if she wants to comment but holds her tongue.

  “It’s complicated,” Cambion responds.

  Raflamir nods. “I don’t want any undue attention.”

  “She won’t cause problems,” Revenant promises. I don’t like the fact that it seems he’s taken responsibility for her. As far as I’m concerned, Eilish is still my charge.

  That’s when I notice Raflamir eyeing Revenant with a curious gaze. He recognizes him.

  “Why do you appear so familiar to me though I’m not certain why?” Raflamir asks.

  Revenant shrugs. “I couldn’t say.”

  “Your name?” Raflamir presses.

  I wonder if Cambion will spill the truth on this matter and I’m surprised when he allows Revenant to answer for himself.

  “Revenant,” he says.

  Raflamir nods but continues to eye the vampire. “You have a striking similarity to a man I… we all used to know,” he starts but then sighs deeply. “But a similarity is all it can be because that man has been dead for, lo, at least a century now.”

  At the sound of hesitant steps, I turn my gaze toward the stairs again and see Eilish and Flumph. I feel my heartbeat speed up as my eyes settle on the beautiful woman. Her damp, white hair glistens like silken moonlight, freshly washed. Half of it is fastened atop her head. Freshly brushed, it’s much longer than I realized and reaches her lower back. I can’t tear my eyes away as Revenant stands and walking towards her, grips the rope between her hands and leads her to the empty chair beside him. It also happens to be beside me, a fact for which I’m grateful. He sits.

  The light of a candelabra that sits in the center of the table reveals Eilish’s long and fitted gown is somewhat sheer, almost iridescent in places. The fabric is the color of earliest morning and the indigo blue complements her white hair. I catch teasing glimpses of her figure, making me think of all the vile things I wish to do to her.

  Fuck me but I still have it bad for this fucking woman. Beyond bad.

  She meets my gaze briefly, as though she can read my mind, but then she drops her attention to her hands. Moments later, her eyes flicker to Revenant. He nods to the chair beside him and holds it out for her. The action irks me. A green flash of envy settles in my gut.

  Eilish offers our host her gratitude. Raflamir just nods but it’s clear he’s as taken by her as we all are. Even Cambion, the fucking prick, is slow to pull his gaze from her. Eilish sits and Revenant pushes her chair back up to the table.

  My anger simmers.

  Raflamir stands and approaches the kitchen, apparently to help Saevel. Once he does, Cambion turns to me.

  “She shouldn’t be dining with us,” he says in a low and confidential tone as he motions to Eilish. “I don’t trust her with whatever information we discuss.”

  “She’s not a spy, Cambion,” Revenant interjects, taking the words right out of my mouth.

  I want to fucking punch something.

  “Who’s to say what she is?” Cambion demands.

  “I’m not a spy,” Eilish insists as her eyes narrow and she then refuses to look at Cambion.

  “She’s our prisoner for no apparent reason, other than the fact that she’s part Succubus when you thought she was a purebred angel,” responds Revenant with little interest. “Other than a fault by virtue of her birth, she’s done nothing to encourage you to believe she’s working for Variant—or anyone else, for that matter.”

  Eilish looks at him and her eyes fill with gratitude. I hate witnessing her expression because prior to this moment, I’d only ever seen it when she looked at me.

  “You better not be fucking her, asshole,” Cambion says to Revenant, his eyes narrowed and angry.

  My stomach drops at the thought. God, what if he just had sex with her? What if while Cambion and I were arguing about whether or not we should have come to Earlann, Revenant was buried deep inside her? Inside my fucking woman?

  I want to fucking punch something even harder.

  “You might not recall, owing to the fact that your memories haven’t been returned to you,” Cambion continues, addressing Revenant in that patronizing tone of his that makes me want to bitch slap him right across the face. “But the reason we lost the Great War was because Lamia had Dragan bewitched. That’s what Succubae do, Baron.”

  “I am fully aware of the power of the Succubus,” Revenant returns, his tone icy. “And my fucking name is Revenant, for the last fucking time.”

  Raflamir returns and Cambion clears his throat before revisiting whatever conversation they’d been having previously. A conversation I should have been paying attention to. But now, all I can focus on is what exactly happened behind closed doors between Revenant and Eilish.

  God, but I want to fucking kill him. And then I want to kill Cambion and after that, probably that fucking sprite. Clearly, I’m in a foul mood.

  “And you’re sure of this?” Cambion asks Raflamir. “If there’s a break in morale, perhaps we can exploit it.”

  “Perhaps,” agrees Raflamir.

  “You said yourself tension in the west is causing rifts in Variant’s numbers?” Cambion continues.

  “Even if that’s true, you don’t stand a chance,” Raflamir answers. “Here you aren’t regarded as kings, you’re fugitives.”

  Raflamir’s words fill me with rage, but Cambion shoots me a discouraging expression and I hold my tongue. Which is a good thing because I’m not exactly sure what would come out of my mouth at the moment. I’m beyond angry and I feel the need to exercise this anger—either by throwing my fists into Cambion’s smug face or fucking Eilish into tomorrow. I have a sneaking suspicion Cambion being an asshole (as per usual) isn’t the reason I’m itching for a fight. Furthermore, it’s currently Revenant’s face I’d rather sink my fists into…

  Cambion nods and once I force myself back to the conversation, I hate to admit it, but he and Raflamir are right. There’s no way we can get near Variant without starting another war. Without our previous titles, we’re a ragtag group of outcasts just clutching to a hope that our mission will end in our favor.

  Because that worked so well the last time.

  And back then, we had armies to call upon. Now? Now, we’re nothing more than a gargoyle, a bloodsucking assassin who’s missing his memory, an obnoxious sprite, and a faerie with his head stuck up his own ass. Oh, and a fucking Succubus we thought was an angel. And that’s not even the best part. If our success hinges on the probability of Cambion, Revenant and me keeping our dicks in our pants so Eilish doesn’t drain us of our powers, then we’ve got no chance in hell. Clearly, I’ve already proven I can’t fucking control myself around her.

  But Raflamir doesn’t know any of that. Raflamir can’t know any of it.

  I’ve never trusted the Steward of Earlann. His fussy disposition and wavering loyalties make him unreliable in my eyes. Even now, after he’s taken us in and told us all he knows about Variant, I still don’t trust him. There’s just something… shifty about the man that turns me off.

  “There’s a chance our old allies will listen,” Raflamir says as he looks at each of us in turn. “But they’ll need to know the true kings have returned and they’re in Earlann.”

  “Fuck no,” I rumble as I shake my head.

  Eilish looks at me expectantly. “Why not?”

  “It’s bad enough we’ve exposed ourselves as much as we have,” I explain as I shift my weight and lean forward, propping my elbows on the table. “If any of our old allies are loyal to Variant, we’ll be up to our necks in bullshit before we can even think about escaping. Anona is still out there looking for us as it is; we don’t need to draw more attention to ourselves.”

  “But we need allies,” Cambion argues, shaking his head.

  “It’s too risky,” I insist with a frown.

  Cambion faces Raflamir and breathes in deeply. “Only tell those of our allies you trust.”

  “Son of a bitch!” I growl as I pound the table with my fist.

  Cambion glares right back at me. “Raflamir’s right, you fool! We can’t fight Variant alone. We need our old allies.”

  “This is going to blow up in our faces!” I protest.

  “Can’t believe I be sayin’ this, but the Demon Prince be right. It’s too risky,” the sprite offers as it floats up from Eilish’s lap and sits its round ass on the table.

  Crossing his arms over his chest, Revenant leans back in his seat. I notice with anger that Eilish stares at him openly, her expression is one of… admiration.

  “There are only three names I can remember from that time,” Revenant begins. “Kolvar, Pyre, and Aima.” He pauses for a moment, as if to make sure the names are correct. “If my fractured memory is correct,” he continues, “then they fought beside us and tried to drive back the enemy angels while we advanced toward Variant on the battlefield.” The vampire’s unsettling gaze narrows on Cambion. I don’t know what his expression means, but it’s clear Cambion recognizes the names. I only recognize two of them.

  “Kolvar and Pyre did fight alongside us, yes,” Cambion says to Revenant. “But Aima was an Unseelie advisor… to my brother.”

  “She still is,” Raflamir informs us, standing to pace in front of the table. “Aima is the one who told me Variant’s followers are unhappy with him.”

  “Did she?” Cambion’s tone is one I can’t place. There was a time when Cambion was in love with Aima—that is before she chose Theren over him and then he never spoke to her again.

  “Yes,” says Raflamir, his gaze fixed on the elf. “As Aima tells it, the Unseelie don’t trust Variant’s judgement anymore.”

  “This coming from the Unseelie advisor?” I ask with a shake of my head. “The Unseelie who also happened to be Variant’s right-hand men?”

  Raflamir nods. “Aima might have been Theren’s advisor during the war, but she now acts as an informant to those who resist Variant’s influences. She can be trusted.”

  “So you say,” I growl accusingly.

  “So I know. Everyone in Earlann is on edge due to the tension between Theren and Variant,” continues Raflamir.

  I watch as Cambion straightens in his chair. Theren is Cambion’s brother, but the two of them have never been especially brotherly. And once Theren realized he could take Cambion down from his mighty throne by backing Variant, he did exactly that.

  “The Unseelie King,” Raflamir starts, but Cambion interrupts him.

  “Call him by his fucking name,” he snaps.

  “Theren,” Raflamir corrects and glances at Cambion with an expression that’s anything but amused. “Theren rules with an iron fist, and he’s the only one with enough power and resources to be a true threat to Variant.”

  I see Cambion flinch out of the corner of my eye before his expression hardens. His brother’s betrayal is something Cambion rarely speaks of. Revanant and I must be thinking the same thing, because the vampire turns his gaze toward Cambion at the same time I do.

  “Theren backstabbed us once before,” Cambion points out.

  “I’m aware, but things are vastly different now. Variant is not the ruler he promised to be,” says Raflamir.

  I scoff at that—I could have seen the truth in that statement coming a mile away.

  “My brother can’t be trusted,” Cambion continues.

  “We need Theren and his Unseelie militia if we plan to go up against Variant and his forces,” Raflamir counters.

  “He’s right,” adds Revenant. “Without support, we are nothing.”

  We… From the sound of it, he’s thrown his lot in with ours. And I have every conviction that the reason why happens to be a buxom blond with the face of an angel who sits beside me.

  Damn Revenant to fucking hell.

  “Dragan?” Cambion faces me. I’m surprised he’s even asking my opinion.

  I shrug. “I distrust your brother as much as you do,” I say simply. The truth of the matter is, I hate Theren. Almost as much as Cambion does. “But, maybe we do need him.”

  “Reach out to Aima,” Cambion says to Raflamir. “Tell her we will meet her here tomorrow.”

  Raflamir nods as Saevel appears from the kitchen with a large bowl of something that smells heavenly. She starts with Eilish, serving her what appears to be beef stew with a variety of vegetables in a thick broth. Eilish looks up and nods in thanks.

  “I’m not sure how you’re going to eat with your hands bound,” Saevel says. Clearly, she’s interested in Eilish and wants to know more. I’m sure Raflamir feels the same.

  “I will feed her,” Revenant announces, once again causing jealous anger to spike within me. The truth of the matter is that I’m having one hell of a fucking time acting like whatever the hell this is between them isn’t upsetting me.

  I force my attention to the plate of stew in front of me but suddenly, I’m not hungry anymore. I’m angry. Bitterly so. Steam coils up from my spoon as I force some of the sumptuous meal to my tongue. I don’t even taste it.

  Instead, I watch from the corner of my eye as Revenant reaches down and ladles a spoonful for Eilish. Then he feeds her. She swallows, and Revenant spoons up another bite.

  “She shouldn’t have to wear the ropes,” I say to Cambion. “Revenant was right when he said she isn’t guilty of anything.”

  “The ropes stay,” Cambion responds firmly.

  I grit my teeth. “She can’t even function,” I point out, my tone of voice seething.

  “The ropes stay,” he repeats, then takes a bite of his soup and thanks Saevel.

  “Cambion,” I start, but then I lose interest in arguing with him. Instead, I reach down and grip Eilish’s hands beneath the table. I begin fumbling with the ropes as she looks at me in surprise.

  “Dragan?” she says and I delight in the sound of my name on her tongue. Immediately, I remember the last time I heard her name on my tongue—when I was in the middle of thrusting inside her, repeatedly.

  “You need to be able to eat,” I answer and drop the rope on the floor as she rubs her wrists. Cambion glances at her newly freed wrists then at me.

  “You and I are going to have a discussion later,” he promises.

  “Yes, we fucking are,” I respond.

  Eilish grips my hand beneath the table as if to steady my anger, but her touch only ignites my passion. She squeezes my fingers lightly, offering me a small smile of encouragement, before Revenant says something to her and she turns back to him. She smiles at him and shifts her hair over her shoulder and that’s when I see the marks on her neck.

 

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