Page 18

Chapter

Eighteen

T hey’d laid him out on my bed, in my chamber. I suppose I had told them that he was my consort, but it was inconceivable to see the monster that was Slaughter in my bed, too large to fit properly. His feet were humanoid, but clawed and with an extra joint to make those claws as deadly as the ones on his hands. Dark blue nails met with pale blue marbled skin, with those red lines like rivulets of lava running through the desolate slate. Infernal runes. Where did those go when Max’s other forms took over? His face was still Max, but sharper, smoother, all the human edges chipped away to reveal the alien monster underneath. That is to say, he looked similarly handsome as Vervain, if Vervain took up infernal magic. He would have done that to save our people. So would I. Blood and death magic may have been more destructive.

His lips were soft in his sleep state. Even asleep, he didn’t look relaxed, not when he flinched and twitched from the poison. Maybe that was from his guilty conscience. He hadn’t been Slaughter for nothing.

The crew of fairy healers moved around him, weaving dancing spells that were bouncing off him, like he had an impermeable shell.

What was the first thing to do with a poison victim? I pushed through the healers and punched out my claws. I grasped his wrist in my hand, feeling the connection between us, but weak, distant, like his life. He really was dying.

Panic stirred in my belly as I bared my teeth at him. If anyone was going to kill my consort, it would be me. I ran my claw carefully down his dark blue vein, cutting through the skin until he was bleeding freely.

“Are you trying to kill him?” Vervain asked, more curious than shocked.

I snarled at him. “The blood in his veins is poisonous. I need a donor.” The wolf-fairy guard would do. I closed my eyes and summoned him from his position outside the door, at attention. He wanted to prove himself as loyal to the queen, not a werewolf, but a fairy. I needed to do something about that. If he was born in Fairyland, he was mine. He didn’t need to question it, and no one else did, either. The next second, he was there, kneeling beside me. He cut his arm from the wrist to his elbow, so his blood spilled freely, mixing with Slaughter’s. His cut wasn’t nearly as precise as mine, but he was overeager to prove himself.

I gestured to the blood, weaving Felix’s into Slaughter’s vein as the poisoned blood fell to the floor, pocketing the aquamarine-embedded silver.

Once enough of the poison was out of his system, I summoned the moon, the night, and poured it into him, healing him of every injury he’d ever gotten. There had been so many injuries, body and mind, his wolf, his beast, and Max. The poison had taken so much out of him, but it was more than that. He was tired of the burden of guilt and lies. He felt so much guilt that devoured him like the death-sickness did to me.

Maybe I was wrong. I couldn’t read his mind, and it wasn’t likely that a monster like Slaughter could possibly have a conscience, but Max had duty towards rehabilitating fairies. That was true. That was real. It came out of this guilt wrapped around Slaughter, all of his forms, most likely. Guilt was its own poison. Could he truly heal as long as he carried that guilt with him?

Yes. His conscience couldn’t be healed, but his body would be. I was the fairy queen, after all. That had to mean something.

I dug my claws into his chest and drew out the poisonous flesh around his heart, healing it with moonbeams, pressing light and healing towards the rest of his body while working on the heart that had been weakened with every pump of poisonous blood.

I vaguely noticed the others gathering around, watching me work.

“She’s weaving magic out of light energy,” a low voice murmured. “Using her natural affinity for the moon. It’ll probably be night for days while she works.”

“You think it’ll take days?” another voice whispered. “With the massive amounts of energy she’s expending, I doubt it’ll take that long.”

I’d told Vervain I was a crappy healer. It was common knowledge, but apparently my demonstration was notable. His heart still wasn’t beating right, no matter how much moonlight I poured into him. The poison was gone, but guilt still poisoned his will.

What else could I do? If what Vervain said was true, and Slaughter had genuine feelings for me, then I needed to use those feelings to engage his will to live. He was a fighter. I needed him to fight for me.

I stood up, looked around and saw all the fairies looking from me to Slaughter, the monster they hated but were trying to heal. How could you heal someone you hated? You couldn’t. Healing took love, which was why I was so bad at it. Did I have love to offer the monster who had killed so many?

For a long time I stood there, mind reeling, hands clenching. I’d touched him with my claws, but he would need more of that, more of me. That monster in my bed was part of Max. I loved Max, but was it enough to accept his truly terrifying lupin sorcerer? His beast was terrifying enough. I was frightened of Slaughter, of what he could do to twist my love, to ruin me, my people, my world. No sensible person would touch a monster with infernal runes etched into his skin.

I nodded at Felix, who was sitting on the ground, looking like he was about to pass out. “My friends, take him to be healed. Leave me with my consort.” My voice only shook slightly.

They picked up Felix and carried him away, but Vervain didn’t move.

“You too.”

He narrowed his eyes at me. “Are you certain, my queen?”

“Leave now. That’s a direct order.”

His face tensed, then he turned and strode out, leaving me alone with Slaughter, Malamech’s second, the monster who had helped destroy my world. Was I certain? Vervain’s question had no good answer. No, I wasn’t certain, but I was going to try to bring him back to life anyway.

I undid five layers of gauzy dress and dropped them on the floor until I was in nothing. He had fabric around his waist, but other than that, was all bare monster. He didn’t look vulnerable without his robes, his armor. I climbed carefully onto the bed, hovering over him until I slowly touched his shoulder. Paler blue specks beneath his skin drifted towards the closest line of red, making the line pulse paler. Weird. I drew a line from his shoulder to his neck, seeing the effect of my touch on him. Paler blue washed over him like the fingers of dawn after a long night.

He responded to my touch even more than I expected. I took a deep breath and then I curled up on his chest, my head on his barely beating heart. He was so cold. Felix’s blood wasn’t enough to warm him up. I summoned the remains of my dress from where it was scattered over the floor like rose petals, and it floated up and covered us, sealing in our heat. My heat, his lack of heat.

“You can’t die,” I said. “Not until we find out who my aunt was working with that had ties to Malamech, close enough ties that she could use his bindings on you. Unless you gave someone else power over your soul. You’re too smart to do that twice. Except being my consort is exactly that level of idiocy, so maybe you are stupid enough to do it multiple times.” I rubbed my cheek against his chest and then smoothed my hand over the silky skin. His infernal runes glowed brightly beneath my touch.

“Your infernal magical markings are so creepy. Sorcerers are bad enough, but lupin sorcerers tied to infernal power? That’s badder than enough. The Goblin Authority called me soft. Is that what you think? That I’m soft?” I shifted so I was more comfortably fitted between his muscles, curled over his chest and stomach like a lap dog heating an invalid in the winter. “I killed so many of your kind. Is that what piqued your interest? Or is Vervain reading it wrong? I thought that you were soft. I liked you so much. I liked every little thing, from the way you frowned with that twinkle in your eye to the way you smiled. You have a really nice smile. Much better than the Goblin Authority with those elaborate iron teeth things.” I closed my eyes. I was feeling the effort to heal an unwilling patient. I was feeling the exhaustion from drawing on so much power, from so many emotions, so much betrayal.

“I’m going to fall asleep for a second, okay? Don’t roll over on top of me in your sleep. This lupin sorcerer is even heavier than your beast, and I would never wake up. I miss your beast. I’ve never slept so well as when I was with him. You might want to consider therapy with all these personalities you’ve got going on. I know they’re all you, but also, they’re really, really not. I wish you hadn’t lied to me. I feel stupider than someone who would bind their soul to someone else multiple disastrous times. I’m referring to you in case that was too subtle. Aren’t I getting so good at subtlety?”

I sniffed as a tear rolled down my nose and plonked onto his skin. Finally, I was crying? Now? I was so tired. And everything was so awful. I was in love with Max, but there was no Max, just Slaughter the lupin sorcerer, second to Malamech the Devourer. I guess he became the first after I ate Malamech’s heart. It’s because of that devourer bit in his title. I did it for irony. And vengeance. I sniffed and two more tears fell down before I closed my eyes, wrapped my hand around his neck. I willed myself to relax and think happy thoughts.

I slept, but more from exhaustion than anything else. I woke up warm, with a sense of energy that told me my consort bond had been working very well. And now I was sleeping on Slaughter.

I jerked up and came to a rough stop on the hands holding me in place. One of his palms was on the side of my head, a gray-blue claw resting on the bridge of my nose as he held me very securely.

I writhed, but his other arm tightened around me, showing how completely I was in his power. I took a deep breath, fighting down panic. He smelled like the enemy. Maybe he was, but he was my consort. He was under my control.

“Release me,” I commanded, sounding quite queenly.

“No,” he whispered, right in my ear, in the creepiest voice I’d ever heard.

I shivered and blinked at that nail, which was basically the only part of him that I could see. “You’re my consort. You will do as I say.” I sounded less confident for some reason.

“You’re my mate. I may do as you ask, if you make it worth my while.”

I blinked at that grayish-blue nail while cold dread swam around in my stomach like live eels. Come to think of it, I did claim him as my Consort-mate. Good job, Princess Sparkles. Let’s go save the world one incredibly bad idea at a time. I wriggled, but not seriously because he had the upper hand. And the lower hand. He had all the hands.

“I’m going to break the consort binding,” I said, trying to sound like I wasn’t terrified. I failed. His diabolical whisper in my ear didn’t help.

“And that would leave us as sworn mates. By all means, if you’d like to put your life in my hands.” His hands were exactly where my life was, particularly the one on my head. Particularly when he’d so recently demonstrated his decapitation skills so graphically.

I shuddered. “What do you propose I do? Stay here indefinitely? I’m hungry. From this position, I could eat your heart.”

“And I could eat your brains.”

“Then we’re at an impasse. Actually, I’ve given up eating hearts. I’d rather die. What do you want? Perhaps we can reach some terms of agreement.”

“You’re trying to reason with a monster.”

“You worked with Vervain, so you must have some reason beneath that creepy voice of doom and dismemberment.”

“There is no reason here. You should have let me die. Now, there is no hope of ever being free of me.” His voice was just so creepy, just like the thumb on the bridge of my nose.

He thought he had all the cards, just because I’d been stupid enough to sleep with him. “In that case, Slaughter, I won’t feel bad for what’s going to happen next.” I turned my head towards his chest, which wasn’t the direction he was expecting, and pressed a kiss to his heart. I pulled on the bindings that I’d woven through him, bindings to my magic, my court, my world.

He was mine. And I would make him suffer.

I wanted screams. I wanted him to forget he was holding me and writhe in agony, but he grunted once and then stroked my hair with a finger.

“I do not object to pain, Death Fairy,” he said, brushing my skin with both hands, feather-light, even more controlled than Max or his beast. His breathing was slightly uneven, but that’s the only response he made to the cancerous growth that was fusing to his spinal cord.

I frowned at the huge finger on my nose. “It’s okay to whimper. It’s reasonable. Ah, that’s why you can’t do it, because you’re being an unreasonable monster.”

“Do you want me to perform pain for you? Do you want to see me huddled at your feet in terror?”

I shoved against him and was brought back down against his chest with a slap that left me blinking spots out of my vision.

“Gentle, my venomous flower. Your pain would bring neither of us pleasure,” he murmured, smoothing my cheek, not the one against his chest which smarted from my own velocity.

I sputtered at the absolute ridiculousness of that statement when he was holding me against my will. “You’re telling me that I’m the only sadistic psycho on this bed?” Since he thought I enjoyed his pain. Maybe a little.

“I admit, the pain you have given me is impressive. Do you truly wish me to whimper for you? Perhaps if you ask nicely and promise more vicious kisses.”

I turned my head to his chest. He allowed me that much movement. Instead of a kiss, I bit him. Hard. Sharp. Not a venomous kiss, but one with a sleep draught. It wouldn’t do much against a monster of his bodyweight, but…

He responded, rolling us to the side and then biting me. The difference between our jaws was quite apparent when he had my shoulder in his mouth, his bottom teeth on my body over my ribs, while his top fangs were on my back, over my shoulder blades. He could fit that much of me into his mouth.

I squeaked, waiting for him to snap those jaws closed, ripping away half of my upper body, including pumping heart.

He relaxed his jaws, then licked me from my shoulder, neck, and head. A surprisingly dry kiss for a werewolf, but lupin sorcerers weren’t as spitty. Apparently. You learn something every day.

I’d just been licked by Slaughter. This couldn’t be happening. I blinked up at his face. He was holding me, but not pinning my head, so I could actually see those creepy gold eyes with ropes of infernal red woven through them.

He smiled, showing sharp fangs, the wide mouth that could split wide enough to take half of my body.

I looked down at my chest and saw what I was wearing. What was I wearing? It was purple, and kind of silky, but it felt alien, as otherworldly as my consort-mate. I had tiny rips in the shapeless dress where he’d drawn blood, one drop for each of the four fangs he’d had on me. As I watched, the fabric slowly grew back together in a creepy way that made me shudder. I was wearing something Slaughter had made for me while I’d been sleeping. It felt like his possession.

I swallowed hard and tried to sound like I wasn’t freaking out. “Not enough blood to do anything with.” My brain was spinning from shock. I’d just had half my body in Slaughter’s jaws. How was I not dead? Maybe I was. I wished I was from the growing horror of wearing purple silk made out of his magic. I’d drawn first blood, so he’d been reciprocating. But he wouldn’t give me pain, because my pain didn’t give him any pleasure. But his pain clearly gave me pleasure. Otherwise, why would the skin on his back be roiling around like a nauseous alligator? No sense. Everything was madness.

And I was wearing his magic. Probably woven out of his blood. How perfect for a death fairy.

“Is this flirting?” I asked, looking up into those creepy eyes. They were stunningly terrifying, glowing so brightly that my soul felt singed. Maybe that was shame from being stupid enough to sleep with some unconscious mostly naked guy. Not that Slaughter would ever be ‘some guy.’ I’d never felt so vulnerable and bewildered. How did I get here? And why did my skin tingle in a not-entirely unpleasant way where he’d licked me? His tongue shouldn’t be pleasant, particularly when I was in Slaughter’s power. What had I been thinking? Not about the fact that he’d wake up at some point. That was certain.

His brow flickered while the rest of his face gave away nothing. “I only flirt with danger.”

Seriously? He’d just said that? This monster with infernal runes in his skin could say something that cheesy? I stared into those mesmerizing eyes that screamed, ‘Danger! Run! Put your own clothes on, preferably armor!’ That line screamed something else entirely.

I slowly reached up and touched his cheek, tracing the jaw that had been stretched so wide around me. “And if I asked you nicely to let me go?”

That jaw flexed under my fingertips into a devious smile. “I would consider for a long moment and then refuse.”

I scowled at him. “You don’t care how nicely I ask.”

He smiled slightly. So creepy. It showed the tips of his fangs. “No, I don’t.” His voice was low, but so smooth, so dangerous, and mocking.

“Let me go!” I thumped against his chest until he pinned my hand between us. I gasped as the feel of his chest pressed against mine. That dress wasn’t like usual flower petals or silk. I could feel him in the fabric, so I felt him doubly so when we were pressed together. So much strength in him. So much vulnerability in me.

“No,” he murmured, his voice caressing me while his eyes flickered more golden, so meltingly hot.

I writhed in his arms, desperate to get away from him before the heat devoured my mind entirely. “You can’t keep me here forever!”

He brushed his nose against my jaw, sending tremors of terror and a flicker of pleasure through me. “That’s a theory that would need to be proven. I’m willing to test your hypothesis extensively.”

The pleasure was so humiliating. I stiffened up and tried to look dignified. Hard to do when you’re wearing a dress of infernal magic, secured by a monster. “What will you let me do?”

He narrowed his gaze thoughtfully. “I will allow you to impose your sweet pain upon me.”

I pressed against him and only came to a more clear knowledge of exactly how muscled he was. “I don’t want your pain. I want my friend, Max.”

He growled, a terrifying rumble that made my whole body tremble. “He is not your friend, but your betrayer. He would never tell you about his darkest side, however close he let you come.”

I frowned up at him. “Will you tell me about your darkest side?”

“I don’t have to tell you what you can see so clearly.” He bared his teeth in something that was absolutely not a smile. Then he licked me again, this time his tongue trailing up my neck so slowly, sending heat and awareness through me like lava crossing the land.

I shivered. “No, I don’t mean your vicious, cruel, cunningly evil lupin sorcerer, but your cuddly, soft, altruistic wolf who cuddles fairies and holds hands. That dark side. The one this vision of fright would deny as readily as Max would deny you. You need a therapist. Having all these sides at odds with each other has to be confusing to more than me, your apparent mate.” I winced when I said that word, but he only raised his head to study me thoughtfully.

“Therapy? You ate the heart of the only person who understood me.” He grinned at me. “I’ve never seen anything more beautiful than that delicate hand, ripping his beating heart from his chest. And then you devoured the devourer. Poetic perfection.” He licked me again, this time my ear.

I sniffed and then squirmed. I didn’t expect him to appreciate that kind of nuance, but as he was always saying, he was Max and his beast loved poetry. His tongue was so hot, it was doing weird things to me, things like Shotglass wanted to do to Max. Was Slaughter seducing me? Fresh panic slammed through me like a door breaking a toe. “Slaughter, why did you give your will to Malamech in the first place?” He had to stop licking me. If he was talking, he wasn’t licking.

He raised his head, eyes so incredibly knowing, but he humored me with an answer. “He promised me knowledge. Power. Freedom. The last was a lie.”

He bent his head again, and that time his tongue caressed my shoulder, then down my arm towards my elbow. Why did he feel so good? Probably because he was my consort, so every touch, every taste, sent a wave of strength and absolute happiness through me. Also pleasure. And that dress did nothing to block the feel of him.

“How did you betray him if he had your will?” I spoke unsteadily, my chest rising and falling too fast as the sensations became too much mixed with all the other tumult in my head.

“He lost my will,” he rumbled without raising his head.

“How? And how did my aunt have bindings over you? Is there really someone else that she worked with who you bound yourself to?”

His head snapped up, and he smiled at me in a way that made me all shivery. “The pain sharpens most exquisitely, my poisonous flower. I suffer sweetly.” He bent his head and nipped my neck, but left it attached to my body. There wasn’t any blood at all that time.

“So glad to hear it.”

The sound of ripping skin came before the new flesh and bone spilled out of his back, rising above his head like indigo sails. Wow. And to think that I’d thought that he couldn’t have been more terrifying.

His expression shifted to one of absolute rage and then the wing tips stabbed down around my face, deep into the mattress, sending up puffs of fluff. “You gave me wings?” he demanded, like I’d poisoned him. No, he wouldn’t mind being poisoned, but apparently, wings were out of the question.

You know what? Whatever. I was mated to Slaughter. What could be more impossible than that? Nothing. We’d left the shore of sanity and reason long ago. I smiled at him brightly and jabbed his chest. “Of course. You don’t think I actually wanted your pain, do you? I’m not the death fairy, not anymore. And you aren’t Slaughter. You’re my consort. Can you imagine a fairy consort without wings?” I peered past him at the enormous black spikes of death and nodded in satisfaction. “They’re perfect. Sparkles are what you really need to offset this whole foreboding death vibe you’re cultivating so earnestly. Think how pretty we’ll be descending the stairs together at the next ball. The more sparkly, the better the consort. That’s what I always say.”

He melted.

One second he’s the lupin sorcerer Slaughter, who needed no other title, because that one was quite enough, and the next, he’s Max, looking down at me with the strangest expression, like he didn’t know what I was. He still had wings, but they weren’t quite so massive and evil-looking. Still terrifying, though, and not a single sparkle to be seen.

“You gave me wings,” he repeated, with that same look of bewildered horror.

I shifted and then froze. Having a mostly naked Max on top of me when I was wearing his dark magic dress was blowing my panic in a completely different direction. The last time we’d been in bed together, it was after the kissing, in his glorious fluffy thing that was so much better than my bed. And here he was again, every inch muscular perfection, with a face that was slightly scruffy and a mouth that I knew was silken velvet. Would he keep licking me? I really, really hoped he did.

I swallowed hard, trying not to be so aware of him, to like his heart pounding against mine so much. I failed. “You’re my consort,” I said quietly, less sure of where I was with him than with Slaughter. At least that monster was brutally honest about what he wanted.

He frowned down at me before he ripped the wing tips out of the bed and then rolled off me, coming up on his feet as he walked towards the door wearing a small pair of black shorts that did nothing to camouflage his sculpted body.

I sat up, still bewildered. “Where are you going?”

He slowed down, but didn’t glance back at me while those curved wings of darkness and mystery flexed and shifted. “You made me your consort and gave me wings. I’m going to make Vervain the Terrible train me on how to use them.”

“That’s it? You’re fine being my consort now that you have wings? That was the ultimate threat that can control your vilest monster?”

He chuckled, but it faded into a sigh. “With a kiss, you gave me wings. You gave me affection and some of your power, the ability to chase you if you try to fly away. For now, you have defeated the monster. You should eat before he comes back.”

I scowled at him. “Not that he isn’t you.”

“Of course.”

“You who is running away. You all need therapy.”

He shook his head slightly before disappearing around the doorway, leaving me alone. And wearing a dress that felt like his soul.