Page 27 of Cathmoir’s Sons (Bad Boys of Bevington #5)

Chapter 27

Deadly Mercies

CAILEáN

A t a flick of my claws, the charred lump that was Kimberly Cavalo-Darling rises in the air. She uncurls slowly until she hangs, her feet not touching the ground, her blackened, eyeless, featureless head bent. She has no lips to shape words. No tongue. Perhaps no vocal cords. Each breath rattles through lungs crisper than rice paper.

Yet when she responds, we all hear her.

“I don’t make bargains with fae,” Kimberly hisses. “I don’t recognize your sovereignty or your right to judge me. Release me from this imprisonment.”

“No, murderess,” I respond. “You will answer for the life you took. If you wish to suffer, I will oblige you.”

“I took no life. My cousin sits right beside you, very much alive.”

“The Mother gave Rhodes back to us,” I say. “But make no mistake, he died. In my arms. At your hand.”

“Says you,” Kimberly retorts.

I circle my finger in the Air, spinning her like a top. “I think you’ll find my word carries weight here. Why did you seek refuge in Hell? Does Bromios still have allies there?”

Instead of answering, Kimberly begins to scream, high and sharp. I flick my claws again and the Air around her thickens, silencing her. I curl my fingers and the Air presses in, her burned flesh rippling from the pressure. When fresh blood bursts from her cracking skin, I release my Element.

“I don’t relish torturing you,” I tell her. “But don’t mistake my mercy for squeamishness. I’m happy to leave you here with the very Air forcing your blood out of your pores for a day or two until you feel like answering my questions.”

“Do it, monster,” Kimberly spits. “I expect no less from a fae.”

“Very well.” I pull on my Element and rise from my chair, holding my hands out to my consorts.

Rhodes takes my hand. Luca takes his and the deep magic surges between us.

I turn my head to look at Luca, who feels the pull at the same time I do.

“She’s dead either way,” he says. “Kill her now. I’ll catch her spirit.”

Despite harboring and calling the Shades of the Cait, I’m not a necromancer. Not the way Luca is. With his magic coursing through me, I feel all the ways he can shape the dead to his will. Dead-hand. Dead-foot. Dead-tongue.

I slip my hand out of Rhodes’. He’s a warrior, but at heart he’s a healer. I don’t want him to feel me kill.

Here, in the heart of my realm, it takes barely more than a thought.

I could finish crushing her, pulping her body with my Element until nothing solid remains. But I am not cruel by nature; I have no wish to make her suffer. A tug on my Element and I pull all the Air out of her burned lungs. It blows out around her in a shimmering bubble. Within the bubble, with nothing to breathe, her body convulses once, twice, a third and final time.

Luca reaches out his hand and grasps her spirit before it can flee.

I tickle my claws upward, drawing words out of her, however unwillingly.

“Bromios had allies in Hell. Licyssa promised sanctuary in the Dransbych. But her daughter betrayed us. When we tried to come through the Aquarius Guild’s star chamber, Mordeh closed the portal. It destroyed Sariel’s mortal Hand, Magnus. It nearly killed me. I barely had any magic left. I reached into the oldest source of magic I know: blood, family. I followed the blood trail of Rhodes’ healing, hoping it could also heal me, but the magic was gone. I called on Sariel, Melephesius, Alugiel. All those who promised themselves to Bromios but abandoned him after he failed at Jedburgh Abbey. Sariel drew me into Hell, but his portal closed before I reached him and I ended up in Olt, trying to find my way to him. The Erinyes found me first.”

I glance at my consorts to see what they think of this news. Law’s face has darkened. I can feel where his mind is moving. This is not the last hunt he will lead through Hell.

Rhodes looks troubled. Perhaps he hoped that Bromios was the only power that might seek to use him. Or perhaps he hoped his cousin could be redeemed. I take his hand again and squeeze gently so that he knows I am by his side, no matter what terrors arise.

I look to the others who circle the spirit of Kimberly Cavalo-Darling. “Ask whatever questions you wish. Her spirit will answer.”

The Capricorn speaks first, asking about the Cavalo-Darling side of Rhodes’ family. Other than hearing that many of them share an anti-fae agenda, Kimberly’s shade tells Evan nothing I did not know. Rhodes doesn’t react outwardly to the Capricorn’s questions but his palm grows slick against mine.

Nimanes speaks next, offering sanctuary in her court in exchange for Kimberly’s soul. Kimberly quickly accepts and I wonder how heavy her sins must be for that to be an attractive bargain.

Baron Ash waives his opportunity to ask questions, perhaps in deference to Nimanes’ claim on the soul, or perhaps his questions have been answered already. He fought at the Capricorn’s side against the Thunderer. Will he feel the same against a triumvirate of greater powers?

When no one asks anything further of Kimberly’s spirit, Nimanes stretches out her clawed hand. The spirit rises in an agonized spiral, circles around Nimanes, and flutters down as a fresh strip on her cloak of skins.

Nimanes interlaces her claws and nods to each of us. “Pleasure doing business with you.”

A circle of blue fire spins up around her. She disappears in a puff of sulfur.

I disentangle my fingers from Rhodes’ to rub my nose. That’s a stench I’ll never get used to.

“Everyone still have an appetite?” I ask.

Unsurprisingly, my consorts nod. They’re growing boys.

Before I lead the group to the feasting hall, I call to my small kin and let them know that the corpse is theirs. It might disgust Rhodes and Evan, but my Cait will understand. It’s the Mother’s Way. Nothing should be wasted.

I haven’t been in the feasting hall since I rebuilt Ceòfuar. My unawakened self has reconstructed it faithfully. The feasting hall is as light as the reception hall is dark, with windows on two sides looking out into the courtyard. A curious ponycorn peers in, its mouth full of Ceòfuar’s green, green grass, wagging out of either side of its mouth as it chews. Will-o-the-wisps circle the creature’s horn dizzily. Smiling at their dance, I sit at the circular table that’s appeared on the dais, set for thirteen. Humans might consider that an unlucky number, but there is no such stigma among the fae. I welcome the humans, fae, and demons and sit between the twins so that Rhodes can keep company with Evan.

While the castle bwg parade through with sweet and savory dishes to tempt my guests, I hold a low-voiced conversation with my sisters. Didrane and Hraena have taken their fae forms, both mantled in feathers, to dine with us. If those around the table who met her as Braelin Greenlaw, Storm Lady of Ashegold, are surprised to see Hraena in her mantle, crowned with a crescent moon, her eyes gleaming the luminescent silver of the Mists in a band of black that stretches from temple to temple, they keep their council.

“Mortal mages consorting with those who will bring only greater chaos and despair to their world defies reason,” Didrane says. “I cannot understand their alliance.”

“Humans don’t always act in their own self-interest,” Law replies, gnawing on a drumstick. His comment earns him glares from Rhodes and Evan.

“Many humans don’t understand how the changes Bromios and his allies want will affect them,” Luca explains. “Or they believe they’re insulated by their wealth and privilege. I suspect Kimberly fell into the latter category. Capricorns are notoriously arrogant and entitled.”

“Hey,” Evan objects.

“Present company excepted.” Luca grins toothily.

“You are a naughty kitty,” I whisper to him.

“You should punish me,” he whispers back.

My cheeks heat. “That can be arranged. You’ll be lucky if it doesn’t involve a rolled-up newspaper.”

He chuckles and offers me a honey-soaked nightbell from his plate. I chew the bitter-sweet fruit while I listen to the conversation continue.

“Is there a way your family could profit from the weather changing to benefit ... what are we calling them?” Evan asks Rhodes.

“The Consortium of Chaos?” Rhodes suggests.

There’s a chorus of “nos” around the table, mostly from either side of me.

“Legion of Thunder? Fallen Angel League?”

Rhodes’ suggestions are met with more negation and guffaws from the demons.

Rhodes throws up his hands. “Bromios and Friends. And no, I’m not aware of any way the Hale family stands to benefit from climate change.”

“Something to investigate,” Evan says. Rhodes nods.

“The schism between Mordeh and her mother is another thing to investigate,” I suggest. “An alliance of three greater powers is bad enough. Look at the army Bromios alone was able to raise. What can Sariel, Melephesius, and Alugiel together bring to the field? Combine their potential might and allies with a ruler of Hell? That’s an unholy alliance in more than name. If it can be fractured from within, that’s worth pursuing.”

The Thistlemist prince catches my eye and nods, even though my words were really for the demons.

“I’m pretty sure Nimanes was just after the soul-trade,” Baron Ash says. “But I’ll look into why Licyssa would offer sanctuary to Bromios’ allies. That ain’t good. Mordeh may just be trying to thwart her mother. They’re not the best of friends. Or it could be somethin’ more. I’ll find out. Ercie?”

He tips his horns at the petite demon gleaming like an onyx between him and the demoness sporting an orange mohawk. If my unawakened self has met this demoness before, it’s not something I remember.

“My master would like nothing better than to encourage a rift in the Court of Mirrors. I’m happy to assist.”

“If there’s anything we can do, please let me know,” I offer. “My consorts and I are at your disposal.”

The demoness shifts her moon-pale eyes to Law. “Your cat’s quite the hunter.”

“My Cait are the best hunters in Fairy. If you find worthy prey, call and we will come.” I emphasize the “we” so the demoness can claim no confusion about who I claim as mine.

She inclines her horned head.

“While I got your attention and no unfriendly ears are listening—close your ears, Paladin—when are we killin’ us some fae kings?” Baron Ash asks. I note that he and his sister with the orange mohawk eat the food my bwg have prepared while Ercie just sips from her wine goblet.

No doubt, she prefers different meat.

Evan grimaces at the demon. “We’re not killing fae kings.”

The demon lifts a black brow. “Speak for yourself.”

“I’ve already killed one,” Hraena says. “I’m happy to plan the demise of another. Are we killing the Holly King as well as the Oak King?”

“Not currently,” I respond, lifting my eyebrows. Which fae king has my sister killed?

“Still on the table,” Law grumbles. “He tries to kiss you, and it moves from the realm of possibility into certainty.”

I stroke his forearm to soothe him. “I have no intention of letting the Holly King kiss me.”

“I have no intention of letting the Holly King kiss you, either,” he responds darkly.

“We still don’t know if he’d be interested in kissing me or whether his aims are purely political and might align with ours. Perhaps the assassination should wait until we discover his true intentions?”

“I might be able to shed some light on that,” Darwin offers. “We have a back channel into the Holly King’s retinue.”

Gabe snorts. “He wants to be godfather to Charlie’s twins.”

“We’re not calling them Charlie’s twins,” Darwin objects. “No one calls Honour and Gal my twins.”

“That’s because they were our first set. We’ve got to distinguish them somehow. Charlie’s angels?” Gabe suggests.

“No.” Darwin and Baron Ash groan together.

I chuckle. I adore Teddy’s children but they’re anything but angelic.

“Anyway, while lobbying my father for the position,” Darwin says, “Aranthann has mentioned that the Oak King’s become so bound in his bark he barely communicates with his knights anymore. What he does say is madness. There’s no clear direction for the kingdom. The Holly King’s afraid of a power vacuum, and he hates the Oak King’s new chief knight, Emnyre.”

“Does that add up to a desire to dethrone the Oak King?” Luca wonders aloud. “I don’t like the idea of the Holly King using you as his cat’s paw, my queen.”

“I’d respect him more if he’d told us all that,” Law says around another drumstick.

“Perhaps he’s as uncertain about us as we are about him,” I suggest. “Darwin, would you convey through your back channel that the Oak King owes me a life that I’m looking to collect? Let’s see if that sparks a confession.”

“I don’t like tipping our hand,” Law murmurs to me.

“What if this is a ruse?” Rhodes whispers from my other side. “The Holly King knows you’re close to Princess Teddy’s husbands. He plants this with the Thistlemist Regent in the hopes it will be passed on to you, so you’ll take him into your confidence.”

“What do you recommend, my love?” I ask.

Law drops his well-gnawed bone on his plate. “I think it’s time to test the Holly King’s mettle. Let’s take him hunting.”

“Boys Night,” Gabe says gleefully.

Teddy will kill me if I let her cinnamon roll of a husband go hunting with my Cait.

“I think this is best left to the fae,” I suggest, to let Gabe down gently.

“I’m honorary fae,” Gabe objects.

“Me, too,” Rhodes says.

“No,” Darwin and I chorus.

“If the Holly King passes muster, we’ll have an after-party,” I offer, to soothe the humans.

“If he doesn’t, we’ll have an after-party and he’ll be the entree,” Law adds.

I elbow him. He gives me a gleeful grin.