Page 4 of Temptation Unleashed (Talaenian Fae #3)

Ignoring the urge to speak his distaste, he flicked his right hand, igniting a dim yellow glow from his fingertips, and proceeded forward, following the men.

He held his breath between inhalations, the stench of mold and mildew from the tiny rivulets of water creeping down the tunnel walls and soddening areas along the ground foul to his sensitive senses.

The tunnel twisted and turned, no branches into other directions. No doors. No additional pathways. None that he saw, though mayhap they were hidden behind spells. ’Twould make sense as to why no one had stumbled into the space he’d been kept in the last few days.

To test his theory, he pressed his palm flat to the surface of a dry protrusion of rock and cast a subtle revealing spell in the direction he’d just come.

“Well, well.”

Several doors, similar to the one to his room, appeared behind a wavering veil of magic. Tricky, powerful magic that tried to resist his own. When Thaddeus removed his hand from the rock, the doors faded back behind their stone facade.

What do you hide in plain sight, Grison ?

Another few minutes of following the disgusting path brought him to the end of this tunnel, and a warped wooden door reinforced with metal bracers. From beyond, he could hear the echo of laughter, the sway of music, the clatter of solid objects, and smell the delightful aroma of fire.

Smoothing down his linen shirt and straightening his shoulders, he plastered his most indifferent expression onto his face and flung open the door.

The dark excitement that permeated the air greeted him with a sour tinge, though the music and noise faded. Several pairs of eyes from throughout this…room turned to where he stood at the top of four rough-carved steps.

For ’twas a room, by definition. A hall, mayhap, though poor in comparison to the glory of Seelie halls.

A large, hollowed-out space with a handful of firepits dotting the otherwise level, packed ground.

The ceiling, though not terribly high, far surpassed the low ceiling of the tunnel.

Rickety chairs and lopsided tables held sparse servings of food and what Thaddeus assumed to be wine.

In the center of the room, decked in his best High Fae robes, perched like a royal imposter at a large dining table spread with delectable offerings from a fat roasted bird to basted vegetables, sat Grison.

Cecir sat to his right. Three Fae Thaddeus recognized from royal Court gatherings but who held no significant positions in Dagda’s inner circles sat on either side of their new leader, enjoying the meal.

Forcing down the desire to storm over to the creature and demand answers—Grison would hang his knowledge over Thaddeus’s head until he milked every wish and command from his bones—Thaddeus used the curiosity and excitement he had piqued in the gathered group.

Lifting his chin, he narrowed his eyes briefly on Grison as the rebel Fae picked a piece of chicken meat from a bone and popped it in his mouth.

The corner of Grison’s mouth lifted, shrewd delight lighting his eyes.

Thaddeus met his challenge with a rueful grin. “I see now why you thought to abandon me in that despicable room. One shan’t miss a meal fit for traitors.”

Casually, he folded his hands behind his back and descended the narrow steps. He observed the room, the dingy walls no degree of firelight could hide. Not a Fae moved, all eyes focused on him as he strolled lazily toward Grison’s table.

His jab elicited the reaction he had hoped. A tendril of anger flicked over his skin, an electric warning Thaddeus shrugged aside. Mattered not the animosity they held toward each other; Grison needed him, and he wanted to know why.

“Aye, I’d much rather enjoy such delicacies than pay heed to a pitiful victim.

” Thaddeus chuckled, a throaty rumble that caused two of Grison’s tablemates to cast their new leader wary glances.

Grison dropped his hand to the scrap of linen beside his plate and wiped his fingers as Thaddeus stopped at the table, opposite Grison.

He leaned forward a bit, widening his malicious grin.

“Alas, I know Grison doesn’t waste precious time or put forth effort for naught when it comes to others. There must be opportunity for gain.”

Grison held his gaze for a tense moment, his expression as cold as this mangy hideaway. The imperfect candles across the table crackled and flickered beneath the weight of their confrontation, responding to the power that thrummed below the surface of their skin.

Thaddeus slowly lifted a brow.

“Do tell. What do you want of me to have brought me back from the brink of death? ’Tis not a sense of loyalty or kinship that guides your motivation, I’m most certain,” Thaddeus said quietly, the deep pitch of his voice directed at Grison.

The man flinched, a reaction he tried to shield a second too slow.

Thaddeus cut his gaze to the members of Grison’s personal table, then casually helped himself to a cheese biscuit off Grison’s plate.

“Since ’tis apparent you are no longer a member of Dagda’s Court, which makes you an outcast alongside myself.

” He sniffed the biscuit, scrunched his nose at the sour aroma, and dropped the item on the table, brushing his fingertips over his linen shirt.

Grison’s teeth ground behind stretched lips. “What need of me should you possess?”

A brief moment longer of this tense stand-off, then Grison’s tight lips relaxed a hair into a smile.

Thaddeus wasn’t fooled by the shift in demeanor.

He knew this snake better than most. Only this one would shed his skin to escape immediate persecution.

Grison leaned back in the rickety chair and spread his arms out to the feast before him.

Thaddeus maintained a level gaze on the devious Fae.

“’Tis wonderful you made it this eve. Care for a bite to eat?

” Grison raised his hands and issued two sharp claps.

Two Fae women scrambled to the table, their dresses naught more than the quality of a poor servant and hair haphazardly piled on top of their heads.

They wiped down a set of cutlery, as well as a plate and goblet.

Thaddeus held up his hand as they approached and, maintaining Grison’s cold gaze, issued a short shake of his head to the servants.

The women halted in their steps and looked to their master for direction.

“You haven’t eaten in days, Thaddeus. ’Twould benefit your strength to nourish your body. ”

Grison flicked his wrist. The women resumed their approach and began to dish out a heaping serving of food onto the bent metal plate and fill the goblet with wine of some sort .

“Your concern for my health is rather convenient. If you wish not to discuss your plans before your newly formed court, mayhap we should take a walk. Otherwise, I’ll be taking my leave of your care, since I do not follow any but our late princess.”

The women’s hands shook as they placed the offerings before Thaddeus. He ignored them, ignored the peace gesture that was naught more than a poorly shrouded facade.

Grison’s carefully wrought smile turned brittle. Thaddeus lifted his chin and crossed his arms over his chest. The small candle flames bowed toward him, feeding off his energy, the sizzling magic he managed to keep beneath the surface of his skin, hidden from the eyes of the Fae.

Grison straightened up in his chair and tented his hands over his plate. The silence in the hall pulsed with anxiety and weighed that of a world overhead.

“After the fall of our princess, we escaped Dagda’s control to continue Daeanna’s work in secrecy.

This is a mere obstacle in our path. We’ll regain power in the Seelie Court once more and create the type of Faery our princess envisioned before she was able to fulfill her dreams of pureblooded Fae realms. In taking our first steps toward achieving her ultimate goal, I have created a group of spies to track all of the Seelie who have been known to tread among humans.

Upon their return from each scouting, I discuss their findings with my trusted officials”—Grison motioned to the men on either side of him, whom Thaddeus did not acknowledge—“and come to a conclusion as to how we must handle these true traitors.”

“Ahh, so you’ve created a team of spies and potential assassins. And how many of these rogue Seelie creatures have you deemed unworthy?”

“I have only just begun our hunt. At this time, my spies are collecting information on a few targeted purebloods who raise concerns of… contamination .”

Contamination. ’Twas an interesting term for this beast to use, and it put Thaddeus on higher alert.

He maintained his cool composure but there was certainly something hidden in Grison’s words that left him uneasy.

After all, what did any of this have to do with him?

With Grison saving his life? Grison and his misfits were certainly capable of handling rogues if that was the path they chose to take. A terribly dangerous, unforgiving path.

“You’ve provided little more than a story for me. If you care to embellish, I’d suggest you do so now.” For theatrics, Thaddeus cast the hall a forlorn look. “This place bores me.”

“You were one of Daeanna’s keys in her goal to achieve a pureblooded Faery.

To eliminate the waste of our superior realms and cease potential dilution of our powerful bloodlines.

Look at the abomination of a Fae that wreaked this havoc on us.

The pitiful creature who brought death to our princess.

We cannot allow for any more powerful bloodlines to cross-breed. ”