Page 9

CHAPTER NINE

A va just kept staring down at the piece of art depicting her murdering Serrik.

She had no idea how she was supposed to get to that point. There was another part of the artwork that she noticed, the longer she stared at it. Her right arm was covered in ink. A tattoo of a massive spiral, winding in and out of a spiderweb, crawled down her arm and to her wrist. A tattoo that she very much did not currently own.

Hints. The damn book was giving her hints.

And she would have given the book a whole load of shit for not having told her all of this before she agreed to work with Serrik, but she had a feeling that without accepting a link to the spider-bastard and his magic, it never would have opened for her in the first place.

The artwork that ran down her arm in the image in the tome was clearly linked to magic. So the more she learned, or the more she…embedded herself within Serrik’s power, the more her tattoo would grow? Maybe?

That was her current working theory.

And it was the best she had to go on.

So…work with Serrik. Learn how to use his magic.

And then betray him.

That felt gross. Really gross. But what other options did she have? She asked for a third way out that didn’t involve her being somebody’s human slave or total war, destruction, and genocide. And there it was. The question was who did she trust? Ibin and Nos, Serrik, or Book?

Currently, Book was the only thing not trying to screw her over. That she knew of. But it was also a not-so-inanimate object currently playing Pictionary with her. It wasn’t exactly a reliable source of information or alliances.

“Cool. Well. Thanks.” She figured she better shut it before Serrik and his spooky all-seeing powers in the Web saw the artwork and he quickly rethought his alliance with her. “Better go ahead and—” She went to pick up the book.

WHAM.

With a shriek, she jumped back.

The book slammed shut in front of her.

“Jesus fucking Christ on a mother fucking Pogo stick— ” She pressed a hand over her heart. “Don’t do that to me, you stupid—ugh!” Walking away from it, she sighed. She was going to have to get used to things jump-scaring her.

Getting dressed would make her feel better. Putting on clothes and getting some food. She’d be less jumpy with a full stomach and wearing pants and underwear. Maybe there was something in the wardrobe that was useful. Walking over to the wardrobe, she opened it.

Stupid. Fae. Stupid freaking fae. And their stupid?—

Ava screamed.

A flurry of feathers and flapping wings came straight at her face.

Ducking reflexively, she bolted from the wardrobe, looking up to see a very, very angry sparrow sitting on a branch, chirping at her irritably. It must have been stuck in there all night.

That was the last straw. Just the absolute last straw.

Walking into the middle of the room, she sat down, put her head in her hands, and let out a noise that was somewhere between a wail, a whine, a laugh, and a sob.

A few moments later, and there was a quiet knock on the door. “Ava? Are you all right?” It was Ibin.

“No,” she called back into her hands, muffled as it was.

“Can I…come in?”

“Yeah.”

The door clicked open. Ava didn’t look up, but she heard the whisper of fabric along the wood floor as Ibin came into the room, and felt her settle down on the floor in front of her. “I heard you scream.”

“There was a bird.” It sounded so pathetic. And it was. Of all the things to lose her mind over? A bird. But she was just completely at her wits’ end.

“A…bird.” Ibin sounded like she was trying very hard not to laugh.

Ava looked up with what she was certain was an expression that was a masterpiece of pure frustration and exhaustion. “I didn’t expect it to come flying out of the goddamn wardrobe. I’m having a rough few days.”

Ibin was smiling with all the sympathy in the world, but there was amusement glittering in her green eyes. “Oh, I believe you. You poor thing. Well!” She slapped her thighs. “Come on. Nothing fixes a bad start of a day like a good cup of coffee—you Yanks still like your coffee?”

“Yanks.” Ava laughed. That was more endearing than it had any right to be. “Yeah. We still like our coffee.”

Ibin got to her feet and offered Ava a hand. Taking it, Ibin easily hoisted her to standing like she weighed nothing. “Fantastic. Well, I’ll brew a pot and get a breakfast together for you. Get dressed, and we’ll plan out our day. Nos is already up and eager to hear what you might have learned from our friend overnight.”

“I’m sure he is.” Well, there went Ava’s brief good mood. “I know he doesn’t like me, and I’m sorry. I don’t want to be here, either. And I certainly don’t want to be caught up in all this nonsense.”

“It’s not that he doesn’t like you. Nos is just…” Ibin paused thoughtfully as she searched for the right words. “He’s had a rough go of things, too. It’s hard for him to see the good in people. Especially strangers.”

Ava nodded. She tried to imagine what he’d been through. She figured he didn’t start life looking like a Frankenstein reject. What or who made him that way—and what pain he was still in because of it? “I’ll cut him some slack. If he tries to cut me some.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” The fae smiled and headed from the room, shutting the door behind her.

Take two on getting dressed. It went better than the first attempt, at least. Her clothes were mostly dry, except for her shirts. She found a black, long-sleeve blouse-looking thing in the wardrobe—that had no more surprises for her. It laced up the front, and while it was fairly low cut and showed off a bit more of her bra than she would like, it hid her brand new tattoo. And that was her priority.

But she was dressed. She even found a brush in the bathroom and managed to get her hair not to look too ridiculous. She looked…vaguely okay. And, heading toward the door, she opened it to head into the hallway and found herself greeted by the smell of coffee.

Wonderful, wonderful coffee.

Thank all the gods, any and all who were listening, for coffee. Heading toward the smell, she realized all of a sudden that she was carrying Book. She hadn’t been meaning to, but there she was. “You know, I wasn’t going to forget you,” she muttered at it. “But fine, sure, whatever, come to breakfast. I can use you as a tray. Stupid thing.”

Ava followed the coffee smell into a kitchen that looked like it had been stolen from at least three different centuries and then absolutely demolished by a supernatural interior decorator with a vendetta against linear design.

Nos sat at a table that was simultaneously Victorian, medieval, and what looked suspiciously like sculpted from a living tree. He didn’t look up when she entered, but his mismatched eyes flickered in her direction briefly.

“Morning,” she greeted him. She made a point of making it obnoxiously cheerful. She was going to keep to social decorum, but she was going to make it painfully clear she was going to enjoy being a pain in his ass if he was going to be a pain in hers.

Ibin was already pouring out two cups of coffee. It seemed Nos preferred tea. Neither of the mugs that Ibin had matched—both were stoneware, primordial looking things, and clearly handmade. Not like Ava cared. In fact, she rather liked them that way. It also looked like they held an obscene amount of coffee, and that was her most important priority at the moment.

“So.” Ava set the book down on the table—carefully, as if it might bite her. The book or the table. Either was fair game. “I’m guessing we need to talk.”

Nos grunted. It was an impressively communicative grunt. He was clearly miserable over the whole situation.

“Not a morning person either, I see.” She smirked at him.

Ibin placed the mug of coffee in front of her. “Cream? Sugar?”

“Cream, th—” Ava stopped herself short. She shot Ibin a look and sighed. “That’s so annoying.”

“I know , isn’t it?” Ibin laughed and fetched her the cream and a spoon. “But the sentiment is heard and recognized.”

Sitting down at the table, she mixed in the cream she wanted and sipped the coffee. It tasted normal. She wouldn’t hedge her bets, though. “So. Are you selling me?”

Nos stared at her with his mismatched eyes. “Not yet. Have you decided to kill us all?”

She met his gaze, unflinching that time. She was getting used to the sight of him. “I haven’t signed anything.” That was technically true. Technically. She didn’t sign a damn thing. That wasn’t to say Serrik hadn’t force-fed her a damn golden spider. “So, Serrik wasn’t lying.”

“He was not.” Nos sipped his tea. “The only reason you are not being auctioned off to the highest bidder to keep you and that ” — he gestured at Book with no small amount of disdain—“from being wielded as tools for our destruction, is because our dear Ibin here is holding on to the fleeting hope that there is an easier path forward for you that results in a happier ending for all of us.”

Whoops.

Too late, lady. Sorry.

Instinctually, she wanted to spill the beans. To tell Ibin everything. About the spider she was forced to eat. About the tattoo. About the warning that Book had given her, and the second image of her murdering Serrik. But if she did, she didn’t know what they’d do.

She liked Ibin. But she couldn’t trust her.

She didn’t like Nos. And she certainly didn’t trust him.

And even if she did trust them, Serrik was watching. He had eyes everywhere—probably in the form of all the little spiders she was just noticing were in every freaking room. Webs were in every corner, and perched on them, tiny little creatures, watching. Observing.

“What’s on the agenda, then?” She turned the mug around between her fingers, watching it spin in idle curiosity. “Parade me through the halls of the Web? A grand tour de fae? Who knows, maybe I’ll fall madly in love with one and decide your whole race is worth sparing because of it.”

Ibin frowned as she returned to the counter to finish plating what looked like a collection of fruit pastries. “Well, when you put it that way, it sounds daft.”

She laughed quietly. “Sorry. I get hangry.”

“Hangry?” Nos arched an eyebrow at her.

“Hungry-angry. It’s the angry you get when you’re hungry.”

“Hm.” Nos provided nothing else than that.

“I’m glad they finally invented a word for your mood swings, dear Nos.” Ibin put the plate of pastries down in front of them before taking her seat. Some of them weren’t fruit, but meat. Those were the ones Nos went for.

“The Unseelie tend to avoid fruit or vegetables if they can help it,” Ibin explained. “We Seelie do not eat meat. It makes us ill.” She plucked a fruit tart from the plate.

Ava took one of each. “Yay for being an omnivore.”

“We Unseelie can eat both. We simply require meat to survive. Proof that we are the Morrigan’s favorites. For we are the predators.” He took a bite of his pastry.

“I disagree. We are the Morrigan’s favorites, for the Seelie needn’t send the souls of the living flesh to the afterlife to survive. You are barbarians and cannibals.” Ibin smiled cheerfully at Nos and took a bite of her own food.

“I take it your people don’t usually sit at the same table?” She took a bite of one of her pastries. The fruit one. It was really tasty. And she was starving.

“Not in the slightest,” Ibin said through a full mouth, crumbs raining down on the plate. Her demeanor really didn’t match the exterior. It made Ava smile. “We’ve been at war for centuries. Hasn’t always been that way, though.”

“Back in the time before Titania and Oberon, the Seelie rulers, when the Unseelie throne sat vacant, there were two brothers who ruled in unison. Then, our race knew peace.” Nos frowned down at his food. He had better manners than Ibin. “When King Bres and King Dagda sat upon the Silvered and Golden thrones.”

“Huh. But now the king and queen are…married? But still at war?” That sounded uncomfortable.

“A permanent but loving standoff. Abigail is always working to keep her husband Valroy from breaking the treaty or ending the truce or finding some way of shattering things and invading Earth.” Ibin shrugged. “So far, she’s been successful.”

“It has only been a few hundred years. In the span of time of our race, that is nothing, Ibin.” Nos finished his pastry and sat back. He could eat quick, for all his decorum. “The Seelie are forever…hopeful that peace can be maintained. They believe in the best of us all.”

More guilt trip. Great. Awesome. “Well, I for one, would like a tour of my new prison-home. Even if it is going to try to eat me. Because if I spend much more time cooped up in here with just your happy ass, I might go insane and try to stuff my own fist down my throat for a laugh.”

Ibin snorted. “I like her.”

Nos seemed far less amused.

Ava only smiled.

He pushed up from the table and headed for the door. “I only hope you know how to silence your attitude, Ava. For both our sakes.”

Picking up the book, she headed after him.

Fifty-fifty shot, historically speaking.

She opted not to tell him that.