Shadowfever - Moning Karen Marie (читать бесплатно книги без сокращений TXT) 📗

Not long ago, I’d thought I would never step foot in this place again. Never see the faint, sexy lift of his lips that told me he was amused but still waiting to be really wowed. Never bicker and banter and argue and plan. Never bask in the knowledge that, so long as the previous owner of this establishment was alive, this place would stand bastion in far more than mere latitude and longitude, keeping Dark Zones, fairies, and monsters at bay. It was the place of last defense in my heart.

Although I hated him for letting me grieve, I couldn’t be more grateful that he was unkillable, because it meant I would never have to grieve him again.

I could never be broken about Barrons. Nothing could hurt me where he was concerned, because he was as certain as the nightfall, he would recur as eternally as the dawn. I still had questions about what he was and concerns about his motives, but they could wait. Time might sort things out in ways pushing and prying never could. “I don’t have any idea what to wear anymore, so I tried to cover all bases.”

“Try skin.”

“Little chilly for that.”

We looked at each other across the coffee table.

His eyes didn’t say, I’d heat you up, and mine didn’t say What are you waiting for? His didn’t reply, Fuck if I’m making the first move, so I was careful not to say, I wish you would, because I can’t, because I’m … and he didn’t snap … choking on your pride?!

“As if you aren’t.”

“Excuse me?”

“Really, Barrons,” I said drily. “I’m not the only one who didn’t just not have that conversation, and you know it.”

There was the faint, sexy lift of his lip. “You’re a piece of work, Ms. Lane.”

“Right back at you.”

He changed the subject. “The Keltar moved their wives and children into Chester’s.”

“When?”

Our sojourn in the White Mansion had cost us nearly five weeks, Dublin time. We’d stopped in the libraries on the way out and taken as many of the Unseelie King’s books as we’d been able to wrap up and carry out along with Fiona’s body. I’d not only missed Dani’s birthday, I’d missed my own, on May 1. Time sure did fly.

“About three weeks ago. Long enough that they’ve settled in. They refuse to leave until we give them the queen.”

“Which will be never,” I said.

“Precisely.”

“How many kids?” I tried to picture Chester’s with families living on the cool chrome-and-glass top floor. Towheaded tots carrying blankets and sucking their thumbs, walking along the balustrade. It seemed terribly wrong—and laughably right. Maybe it could eradicate some of the fundamental badassness of the place.

“The four Keltar Druids brought their wives and children. They breed like it’s their personal mission to populate their country in case somebody attacks again, as if anybody wants the bloody place. There were dozens of them. Everywhere. It was total chaos.”

“Ryodan must be losing his mind.” I had to bite my lip not to laugh. Barrons sounded downright consternated.

“A child followed us on our way to see the queen. Wanted Ryodan to fix a toy or something.”

“Did he?”

“He got upset because it wouldn’t shut up and tore its head off.”

“The child?” I gasped.

He looked at me like I was crazy. “The bear. The battery was dying and the audio file was looping. It was the only way to make it stop.”

“Or put a new battery in.”

“Child screamed bloody murder. Army of Keltars came running. I couldn’t get out of there fast enough.”

“I want to see my parents. I mean, visit with them.”

“V’lane agreed to help the Keltar get Christian out of the Unseelie prison. He has them rebuilding the dolmen at LaRuhe he crushed for you.” He shot me a look that said, Too bad you didn’t think before you did that one; would have saved time. “He believes that once it’s complete he can reestablish the connection and bring him out.”

So V’lane was playing nice, batting hard for the team. We had serious unfinished business, but I no longer had his name in my tongue and I suspected he was avoiding me. I’d been in no mood for confrontations in the past week. Confronting myself was hard enough. “If you don’t arrange it, I’ll go by myself.” We’d have Christian soon! The moment I’d returned from Fiona’s mercy killing, I’d begun lobbying to get Christian out of the Unseelie prison. I would have begun my campaign sooner, but finding out I was Not the Concubine had thrown me for a wicked, mind-numbing loop. “When will he be back?”

“Your pretty college boy isn’t so pretty anymore.”

“He isn’t my pretty college boy.”

Our gazes locked.

“But I still think he’s pretty pretty,” I said, just to antagonize him.

See you in bed with him like I saw in the Silvers, I’ll kill him.

I blinked. I did not just see that in Barrons’ eyes.

He evaporated from the chair and reappeared five feet away, standing in front of the fire, his back to me.

“They expect to have him back any day now.”

I wanted to be there when they got Christian out, but the Keltar had made it clear they didn’t want me around. I should never have told them I’d fed their nephew Fae flesh. I wasn’t sure if they found it cannibalistic, sacrilegious, or both, but it had certainly offended them. I’d gone light on details about what it had done to him. They’d find out soon enough.

I shivered. The time was approaching. We would be doing the ritual soon. “We need to have a meeting with everyone. Keltar, sidhe-seers, V’lane. Iron out the details.” What would happen when we finally had the Book under lock and key? How did Barrons think he was going to use it once it was contained? Did he know the First Language? Was he that old? Had he learned it over time, or been taught? Did he plan to let us re-inter it at the abbey again, then sit down and read it?

And do what with the knowledge?

“Why don’t you just tell me what you want the Sinsar Dubh for?”

No longer staring into the fire, he faced me.

“Why do you keep moving like that? You never used to do it before.” It was unnerving.

“Does it unnerve you?”

“Not at all. It’s just … hard to follow.”

A haze of red slithered through his eyes. “Doesn’t faze you at all?”

“Not a bit. I only want to know what changed.”

He shrugged. “Concealing my nature requires effort.” But his eyes said, Think you accepted the beast? Stare at it, day in, day out.

Not a problem.

“The queen came to—”

“She’s conscious?” I exclaimed.

“—briefly before she went under again.”

“Why does it always take you so long to tell me the important things?”

“While the queen was lucid, Jack had the presence of mind to ask her who sealed her in the coffin.”

Expectancy straightened my spine. “And?”

“She said it was a Fae prince she’d never seen before. He called himself Cruce.”

I stared, stunned. “How is that possible? Is anyone who’s supposed to be dead actually dead?”

“Doesn’t seem like it.”

“Did he have wings?”

He gave me a look. “Why?”

“Cruce does.”

“How do you—ah. Memories.”

“Does it bother you? That I’m …” Not the Concubine. I couldn’t finish the sentence.

“No more human than I? On the contrary. You’ve either lived a very long time or you prove reincarnation. I’d like to know which it is, so we’d know whether you can die. Eventually the Unseelie King will come looking for you. He and I are overdue for a talk.”

“What do you want the Book for, Barrons?”

He smiled. Well, he showed me his teeth, anyway. “One spell, Ms. Lane. That’s all. Don’t worry your pretty little head.”

“Don’t talk down to me. It used to shut me up. Doesn’t work anymore. A spell for what? To change you back to whatever you were before? To let you die?”

His eyes narrowed and the rattlesnake stirred in his chest. He looked at my face closely, as if reading the tiniest nuances of the way my nostrils flared on each breath, the shape of my mouth, the movement of my eyes.