It was like being hit in the arm with a baseball bat, like being bitten by a large dog. It was the impact that startled, but it didn't exactly hurt, not right away. Blood poured from his lips down my arm. He worried at it like a dog trying to break the neck of a rat, and I cried out.
I slumped down the side of the bed, away from him, and he stayed at my shoulder, teeth dug into my flesh. Blood dripped onto my chest, staining the white bra.
I drew my breath from deep inside my body, but I didn't scream. He was a goblin; screaming and fighting back just drove them to blood lust. I blew my breath soft upon his face. He stayed locked on my arm, eyes closed, face enraptured. I blew one quick hard breath in his face the way you do on small pets when they bite. Most things don't like having you blow in their face, especially on their eyes.
It made him open his eyes. I watched Kitto flow back into those eyes, watched him fill back up, while the animal receded. He let go of my arm.
I slumped back against the dresser, and the pain was sharp and immediate. I had the urge to curse him soundly, but staring up into his face, I couldn't.
Blood covered his mouth like lipstick gone wild. It dripped down his chin, stained his throat. His eyes were focused, and he was himself again, but he still ran that narrow forked tongue across tiny bloodstained teeth. He rolled back onto the bed and basked in the afterglow.
I just sat on the floor and bled.
Doyle knelt behind me with a small towel in his hands. He raised my arm, wrapping the towel around it, not so much to stop the bleeding, but to catch the blood and keep it from getting all over everything.
The scent of flowers filled the air, pleasant but strong. Doyle glanced up at the mirror. "Someone is asking permission to speak through the mirror."
"Who is it?"
"I am not sure. Niceven, perhaps."
I looked at my bloody arm. "Is this a good enough show?"
"If you do not show pain while we bind the wound, yes."
I sighed. "Great. Help me sit on the edge of the bed." He lifted me in his arms and sat me on the bed. "I didn't need that much help."
"My apologies. I didn't know how hurt you might be."
"I'll live." I took the towel and held it on the wound. Kitto curled around me, his face still bloodstained. He'd kicked off all the sheets, so that with his body pressed up against mine you couldn't see his short-shorts from the mirror. He'd look naked. He writhed against me, his forked tongue licking the blood from his lips, and further around his mouth. His hands stroked along my waist and hips.
Kurag could say what he wished, but taking flesh this way was sex for the goblins.
"Answer them, Doyle, then get me something to stop the blood."
He smiled and gave a small bow. He motioned and the mirror sprang to life showing a hook-nosed man with skin the color of bluebells.
It was Hedwick, King Taranis's social secretary. Not only was he not Niceven, but he was so not going to appreciate the show.
Chapter 26
Hedwick didn't even look out from the mirror. He was reading down a list, face half-averted. "Greetings to Princess Meredith NicEssus from the High King Taranis Thunderer. This is to inform you of a pre-Yule ball three days hence. His majesty looks forward to seeing you there."
During the speech, he had not looked out at the room. His hand was actually reaching out to cleanse the mirror when I spoke.
I said the one word he probably didn't expect to hear. "No."
His hand went down, and he looked up into the room with a cross look on his face. The look gave way to astonishment, then disgust. Maybe it was watching Kitto writhe on the bed. Maybe it was me being splattered with blood. Whatever, he didn't like the show.
"You are Princess Meredith NicEssus, are you not?" His voice dripped with disdain, as if he found it hard to believe.
"Yes."
"Then we will see you at the ball." Again his hand went up to cleanse the mirror.
"No," I said again.
He lowered his hand and scowled at me. "I have quite a few invitations to make today, Princess, so I do not have time for histrionics."
I smiled, but could feel my eyes going hard. But underneath the anger was pleasure. Hedwick had always been an officious little bootlicker, and I knew that he gave the invitations to all the lesser fey, lesser people. Another sidhe handled all the important social contacts. That Hedwick had extended the invitation was an insult; the way he'd given it was a double insult.
"I'm not the least bit hysterical, Hedwick. I cannot accept the invitation as it stands."
He bristled, his fingers going to his fluffy white cravat. He was dressed as if the 1700s had never passed. At least he wasn't wearing a wig. For that I was grateful.
"The high king himself commands your presence, Princess." He sounded like he always did, as if it was the utmost honor to toady for the king.
"I am Unseelie and I have no high king," I said.
Doyle knelt at my feet with a small basket of medical supplies. We'd started keeping them near at hand, though the bites from the other guards were usually nowhere near this bad.
Hedwick's gaze flicked down to Doyle, then up to me with a frown. "You are a Seelie princess."
Doyle moved around me so that he was on the side with the wound. He took the towel, applying direct pressure with it.
I took a slightly sharper breath as he pressed the cloth very firmly into the bite, but other than that my voice was normal. I sounded all business as Doyle tended my wound and Kitto writhed against me.
"It was agreed that my title in the Unseelie Court supercedes my Seelie title. Now that I am heir to the Unseelie throne I can no longer acknowledge my uncle as high king. For me to acknowledge the title might imply that he was also high king of the Unseelie, and that is not true.
Hedwick was clearly perplexed. He was good at following orders, flattering those above him, and playing errand boy. I was forcing him to think. He wasn't used to having to do anything that complex.
He smoothed his cravat again, and finally, looking a great deal less sure of himself, he said, "As you like. Then King Taranis commands your presence at the ball three days hence."
Doyle's gaze flicked up to my face at that. I smiled and gave a small shake of my head. I'd caught it.
"Hedwick, the only royal who can command my presence is the Queen of Air and Darkness."
He shook his head stubbornly. "The king can command the presence of anyone of lesser title than he, and you are not a queen yet — " He stressed the yet. " — Princess Meredith."
Doyle opened the towel to see if my wound had stopped bleeding. Apparently it had, because he got some antiseptic to clean the wound.
"If I was King Taranis's royal heir, then he could command me, but I am not his heir. I am Queen Andais's heir. Only she can command me, because only she outranks me."
Hedwick flinched at the mention of the queen's true name. All the Seelie were like that, never invoking her true name, as if afraid it would call her to them.
"Are you saying that you outrank the king?" He sounded truly outraged.