“That’s the doorway to the Summer Lands,” Lucinda whispered with the last of her strength. “He has hundreds of Fae warriors standing by in there to crush any support you brought with you.”
“That’s the Summer Lands? Not here?” Fiona suddenly had hope and for nearly five entire seconds she held on to the vision of Hopkins and the Atlanteans saving the day. But then her vision turned to a far different one as she saw the many dark forms crowding the doorway to the Summer Lands. In this new vision, the Fae warriors swarmed out of that door and killed them all, leaving Gideon no reason to release her brother.
She called out, and both Christophe and Gideon paused, restraining their power while they turned their attention to her.
“Willingly spoken, is that correct?”
Christophe saw it in her eyes or felt it in her soul before she even spoke the words, and he shouted a denial, but it was too late.
“I willingly go with you, Gideon na Feransel, in return for the lives of my brother and this shifter, Lucinda.”
“Willingly spoken and done,” Gideon said triumphantly.
Before Christophe could stop him, the Fae raised both hands and a sweep of power pushed through the room, overpowering everything and everyone it its way.
“No,” Christophe said, and his anguish at what she knew he thought of as her betrayal pierced the fragments that were left of her heart.
Then the room faded to a welcoming black.
Chapter 38
Christophe woke when a massive aquamarine smashed into the side of his head.
He’d been woken up in worse ways. He closed his eyes again.
Then the reality of what had just happened caught up with his dazed and battered mind, and he changed his mind. This was the worst, ever.
Fiona had willingly given herself to the Fae. There was almost nothing he could do about it. He was tapped out of magic, trapped in the Summer Lands—and, most likely, the Unseelie Court itself, the center and source of this Fae prince’s power—and the woman he loved more than his own life had just surrendered herself to the same monster who had murdered Christophe’s parents.
The worst situation of his life, perhaps, but there had to be a way to win. There was always a way.
Gideon na Feransel was going to die.
All of that analysis ran through his mind in the few seconds before he opened his eyes. He then sat up and retrieved the gem that had woken him so unpleasantly. He held it up in the air and scanned the area. Rock walls. Rock floor. Light from some unknown source. A cave?
“Thank you. I’ve been looking for this. Telios was just a frame?”
Gideon’s voice sounded in the chamber, but Christophe couldn’t see him. More tricks of illusion. “Telios was a tool for me to use, who unfortunately learned secrets he should not have tried to wield. He enthralled the shifters in the Tower Guard, stole the sword, and then killed them and blamed it on the Scarlet Ninja. Our lovely Fiona will be hanging up that particular outfit from now on, by the way, unless she wants to play dress-up for me.”
Christophe snarled and leapt to his feet, still clutching the Siren. “Where is she? If you’ve hurt her, you bastard, I’ll cut your dick off and feed it to you.”
“So violent. Why would I possibly hurt the mother of my future children?”
Christophe didn’t understand that, either. The Fae were big on purity of the race and all that. Sort of like the Atlanteans had been before Conlan smashed right through that tradition.
“Why her? She’s not Fae. Why do you want her?”
“Ah, is that what you believe? I know what you are, now, you know. Atlantean. Evidently you know less than you think you do, for a living example of an ancient race.” The Fae finally appeared, roughly in the same place from which his voice had been projecting. “Fiona is a descendant of Fae royalty. Seelie Court, to be exact. She will be very happy in my . . . well, let’s just call them unification efforts, shall we? Show me how to work the Siren, or I will make her life quite unpleasant, shall we say? There are many ways to harm a human without breaking her. Humans are so delightfully fragile, aren’t they?”
Christophe didn’t waste time or breath on more threats. “What do you want?”
“The Siren. Show me. The ancient legends tell us that it holds enormous power, and I’ve only been able to access a fraction of it. Your young warrior friend, the one so besotted with my dear sister, knows nothing of how to access the gem’s power. But, of course, he doesn’t have your magic, does he? So now you show me how to control the full spectrum of power, or else—”
“Yeah, I get it. Or else bad things happen, and so on and so forth. Show me Fiona. Now.”
“Never.”
“Take me to Fiona, so I can see for myself she is unharmed, or you can stuff this gem up your hairy elf ass,” Christophe snarled. “I have no incentive to help you unless I know for sure she is safe and well.”
Gideon’s face turned red, then white again, and Christophe was sure he was finally going to die, right there on the spot.
“Yes. I will allow you to see Fiona,” Gideon finally said. “After that, you will show me how to control the Siren’s power. Willingly speak it to me, or I will kill you now.”
Christophe inclined his head. “After I see Fiona, I will show you the full power of the Siren. Willingly spoken.”
Satisfied, Gideon pointed toward a doorway that hadn’t been there before. Christophe led the way out of the door.
The first chamber they entered was a deep, rich forest. The scent of green and growing things and the rich loam in the soil permeated the air and made Christophe wonder how creatures of such viciousness and hate could create and control nature’s perfection so beautifully. Then he saw the unhappy faces of several wood sprites, and he knew the truth. The Unseelie Fae could harness, imprison, and control, but none of nature worked willingly in cooperation with them.
Would it be enough to lead to their downfall? He didn’t know. Millennia of Fae history said the opposite.
As they neared the end of the forest chamber, Christophe heard splashing and laughter like tiny bells. Nymphs. He schooled his face to be completely expressionless, in case Fiona was there, too. Nymphs could be fairly outrageous and he’d prefer not to react.
When they rounded the final tree and came upon the pool, however, it wasn’t Fiona he saw, but her brother. From the looks of him, he was in excellent spirits, too.
Not to mention stark naked.
Expressionless didn’t cover this. Christophe had to force himself not to laugh. Luckily the Fae had kept walking and was some distance ahead.
Declan saw him and turned red, making an attempt to cover himself. “Christophe! Did you come to get me out of here?”
The nymphs, three of them, all naked as the day they were born and absolutely lovely in their watery play, smiled and beckoned him to come join them.
He bowed but shook his head. “Alas, ladies, my heart is given to my one true love.”
They pouted but gave up gracefully. Nymphs could overpower any man’s will except for one who was truly in love. For them to have given up so easily, they must have sensed it powerfully in him.
“That’s delightful,” one said.
“Lovely, lovely, love,” the second said, nibbling at Declan’s toes. He turned an even brighter shade of red.
“We love virgins. Not that he is one, anymore,” the third said, rubbing her breasts on Declan’s back. His groan was heartfelt, but he splashed his way out of the pool and toward Christophe.
“Can you at least put that thing away?” Christophe tried not to laugh, but it was getting harder.
“They stole my clothes,” Declan said, covering himself with his hands and hopping back and forth.
Christophe took pity on him, but they needed to get moving before the Fae changed his mind. “Compliment them and then ask about your clothes,” he advised. “But they have to be really flowery compliments. Nymphs love to be flattered. Catch up to me as quickly as you can.”