The Darkling Lord: Court of the Banished book 1 (Annwyn Series 4) Read online

  For the moment it was easy to push the guilt aside. He’d be busy this year justifying his existence and claiming Detroit. Maybe next year he wouldn’t get drunk. He almost laughed out loud at the idea. He always drank on his birthday, if not to forget then to at least numb the memory and file away the sharp edges.

  “Information about what?” Darah raised one dark eyebrow. Her eyes glittered like the Mediterranean Sea in sunlight. With her coppery skin, she was breathtaking…but weren’t all fairies? The scale of their beauty should be enough to induce wariness or fear…as well as lust.

  He was not immune to all of her charms, just the glamours that would muddle a mortal’s mind.

  “People.” And he doubted that she’d understand. Most fairies cared little about humans unless they were forced to live among them. Was this an educational visit for her?

  “To steal their souls?” Her voice was perfectly level, as if death meant nothing to her.

  He flinched and glanced at her. “I take only one per year, so that I may live.”

  She gave a shrug as if she didn’t really care, and her long black hair slid over her golden brown shoulder. She looked like an Egyptian goddess in mortal clothes. And she would no doubt be as much trouble.

  Fairies always were. Didn’t matter if they were banished, exiled or Court. It was just the amount of trouble that varied. While he hadn’t made deals with Greys, and he didn’t trick people out of their souls, he didn’t know how Annwyn would view the one he did take every year. Justified or not? He was sure that there were too many Greys gathered in one area, which as far as he was concerned was just another reason to make sure they didn’t get into any trouble and draw attention.

  A whistle cut through the noise as ten cops walked in. He’d actually expected them to show earlier. A few gang kids had started fighting, but Kaid had kicked them out, and since then there had been no trouble. The casino was Switzerland, with less snow and chocolate.

  The two men he had handing out chips at the door offered a pile to the cops. Everyone got the same when they walked in. Gambling was no fun without risk. They got the rush and the joy without taking a hit they couldn’t afford. He’d hired caterers and put on a buffet. There was even some alcohol, but not a lot. Just enough to lubricate the talk. The cops brushed aside the chips, although some looked as though they wanted to take them.

  One cop stepped forward. “This is an illegally operating casino.”

  “I have to deal with this, don’t vanish, okay?” He smiled at her. Maybe having an exiled fairy on his side would be useful. She could be seen in public while the Greys couldn’t—most were too far gone to pass for human.

  He smoothed his shirt and strolled over with his most innocent smile on his lips. “This is a private party.”

  “There’s gambling and drinking in an unlicensed venue.”

  “This is my house. Admittedly it was once used as a casino, but alas I have no liquor license or gambling license, so I decided to throw a party instead of letting the tables go to waste.” He placed his hand over his heart.

  “You invited the whole of Detroit.”

  “Actually I invited the local suburbs, but it appears not everyone could come.” But a couple of thousand had, and they would spread the word. And he would create what they wanted. No deals that turned sour and no tricks that fell in his favor. Fairies could work with humans. Tonight was the first step, gather information. That the Mayor had unwillingly funded the party was a bonus. No party was ever just a party and the reasons were always best hidden. He may not be a fairy, but he appreciated the games.

  It was easy to be positive when his birthday was a drunken memory from last week. This year he was determined to pay them one hundred times over for the soul he’d take. He’d still be in the mortals’ debt, and it wouldn’t touch the old guilt that came from accidentally killing those who had tried to raise him, but it was a start. Besides, he’d had to survive the consequences of his actions. By seven he’d been on the streets, alone. Victorian England wasn’t a kind place for children.

  “You’re serving alcohol.”

  “Yes I am, can’t have a party without it. But it’s all free. I believe there is some dinner left, so be my guests and help yourselves.” He increased his smile and wished he could cast a glamour to get rid of them. The party was stopping as people looked and got scared.

  “Are you trying to bribe us?” The cop scowled at him.

  Ah, is that what they wanted? Bribes? They wouldn’t give him a license but they’d take his cash? “Oh, no. That’s an offense, isn’t it? I was merely offering you the chance to join the party.”

  “You will be fined.”

  “For what? Has there been a noise complaint?” Henry crossed his arms.

  “You need to run events past the mayor and pay the approval fee.”

  “Private party.” Henry corrected. “I’m sure I’m allowed to have them.” He felt more than heard Darah move alongside him. She slid her arm into his and he immediately knew she was up to something.

  “Is there a problem?” Her voice was like liquid gold. Warm, rich and with a slight sparkle.

  Henry felt the urge to shake his head and say no, and she wasn’t even asking him. He recognized the feel of magic on his skin. He knew then what she was doing. Darah was casting a glamour and clouding the cops’ thoughts. It was no wonder fairies looked down on humans when they could manipulate them so easily.

  The cop who’d done all the talking looked confused for a moment. Then he took a step back. “It’s just a private party.”

  Darah nodded. “Yes it is.”

  After a couple more heartbeats, the cops edged away, looking a little dazed, and left. A few Greys scampered after them, pausing at the door as if checking for permission. Henry gave a slight nod and they vanished in to the night. Those cops wouldn’t be sleeping well tonight.

  He didn’t feel sorry for them. They were the Mayor’s personal shit-kickers.

  Tonight he had other problems. He turned to look at Darah. She’d helped him even though she didn’t have to. Like any fairy, she would now expect something in return. The question was what?

  “Nice work.” He did mean that. Casting glamours was a skill he could use around here. While banished fairies could cast a glamour, using magic brought them closer to death so most didn’t. The silence hung between them as they assessed each other.

  Who would flinch first and display their hand? He didn’t let the smile form. Darah could be a dangerous ally or a callous enemy. He already knew which he’d prefer.

  “Did you plan on throwing me out, or can I stay?” She raised both eyebrows in challenge and he was almost ready to accept it. Then he blinked and remembered that she was probably the most dangerous fairy on the floor.

  He considered her for a long moment, neither of them willing to look away first. He didn’t trust her, which was both a reason to let her stay and a reason to send her on her way.

  He wanted to know why she’d come to his city out of all the cities in the world.

  Curiosity was a fairy’s drug of choice. Something that could never be quenched no matter how much was discovered. In that respect, he was no different than any fairy. He loved intrigue. And Darah was intriguing.

  She was beautiful in a way no mortal or banished fairy could be. She radiated with the magic of Annwyn. Like any Grey, he longed to touch it even if he couldn’t hold it.

  She also had no soul, which meant if he kissed her right now she wouldn’t end up dead. Lust gave him a kick in the groin. He couldn’t decide if that was a pro or con to her staying in his casino.

  Greys he could deal with. A fairy exiled from Annwyn was a whole other bundle of trouble. He liked to keep a close eye on trouble. “Be my guest.”

  Chapter 5

  That was almost too easy. Darah didn’t trust easy. She generally didn’t trust anything at all. A life at Court had trained her well in that regard. It had also taught her how to gamble and act like she was having fun
.

  Now that Henry had invited her to stay, she was going to make use of the time she was here. She ate a little of the mortal food—her stomach was used to it after several weeks of eating it—and moved around the tables, betting with the colored chips they were using instead of money. But she was careful not to win too much, and not attract too much attention.

  The whole time she was trying to work out what information Henry wanted and why. Along with why the Greys treated him like their Lord. What had he promised them? Making deals with the banished was a crime…but she still needed a verbal admission, if not concrete proof. Catching him in a lie was all that Felan needed to bring Annwyn against the darkling and break up the gathering of Greys.

  While she had only seen three chase after the police, there were others here. She could sense them. But she didn’t want to acknowledge them, much less talk to them.

  A few mortal men favored her with a smile, but none actually said anything to her. Perhaps seeing her with Henry had put them off, or perhaps they’d figured she’d shoot them down as quick as they opened their mouths. She wasn’t here to toy with humans or get herself with child, which was the main reason fairy women dabbled with mortal men. Maybe another time, when her place at Court was more secure…when the Court was open again. Every fairy was waiting for the Queen to give birth and bring summer to Annwyn.

  The Queen was taking her time. Because fairy time was slower than mortal time, the longer she spent in Annwyn, the longer her pregnancy would last and the longer Court would be closed. Felan had claimed it was to give fairies a chance to rediscover their hearts.

  The notion was ridiculous. Who would willingly offer another their heart?

  She’d married for power, like all fairies, and she was sure her husband had started sleeping with the old Queen for exactly the same reason. It wasn’t slighted love that had made her seek revenge. Shea had promised her they’d rise together, and they had for a time. Then he’d moved on without her and broken the deal they’d made in private. He’d gotten what oath breakers deserved; banishment and death.

  Love was a dangerous thing for a fairy. She’d seen people at Court torn down, their love interest used as a pawn. Even the once great Verden, ex-Lord of the Hunt, had fallen when his lover was threatened.

  She’d get back the power Shea had thrown away and be on the Council in her own right. Even thinking his name brought contempt, when once it had meant ambition and cunning. Traits to be admired in a fairy man.

  Her gaze slid to Henry. Was he ambitious and cunning like a fairy man? It was too early to tell. Despite his fairy good looks, he could be inflicted with a mortal’s delicate heart as well as a borrowed soul.

  Gradually people began to leave the casino.

  Henry was by the front door seeing everyone off. She moved closer to watch, as it was no simple goodbye. He was handing every person a roll of paper. Money, she realized. The same as what Felan had given her. Some people gladly took the notes, others refused at first but Henry laughed and said they had played well and that he was glad to see the casino in use despite the Mayor’s wishes. That seemed to be enough to tip most people over the edge and they accepted the money. No one asked where it had come from.

  Where had it come from? Was it his? If it was, what did he hope to gain in throwing it away? Was handing out money classified as interference in mortal lives, according to Annwyn?

  Greys weren’t supposed to interfere, and yet he wasn’t technically a Grey. One of his parents had been though. That was how darklings were created. A changeling was a fairy born in the mortal word and thus afflicted with a soul. A darkling was much more complex, and they rarely survived past their first year because no soul could live past a year and a day in their body.

  She watched Henry, carefully. She wasn’t sure this interference could be called harmful. Generally benign interference was ignored. The whole time the banished fairies that could have run amok had behaved. No one here was giving Annwyn a bad name.

  On the surface there was nothing to report back to Felan. That was enough to make her want to stick around. Nothing was simple and obvious when it came to fairies, or darklings in this case. There was a lot Henry was hiding.

  Henry caught her watching and smiled, the gesture full of warmth and razors. She was familiar with those smiles. He didn’t trust her. He shouldn’t, and yet she wanted him to. Needed him to.

  The only interest she had in Henry was working out what he was up to. And why he was gathering a small army of Greys. That alone made her twitchy. Greys in bigger groups than four made Annwyn curious. It was no wonder Felan had wanted someone on the inside. Grudgingly, she admitted that Felan was right to choose her—her cover story wasn’t a lie. She could very easily hate him for letting her be a shadow servant when he should’ve protected her. After all, she had stolen the Window for him…and conveniently sealed her husband’s fate. It had almost been worth the punishment.

  Not that she ever planned on having that conversation with Henry.

  The endless amount of money didn’t run out, and when the last person was gone, he closed the doors and locked them. Someone knew the signal and most of the lights and all of the games shut down. The room was silent, except for the footsteps of the Greys drawing closer as they eased out of the shadows like a hundred different nightmares.

  She was in enemy territory. This was no courtly game without real danger. Her heart skipped a beat and danced a little faster.

  Darah stepped back and Henry was right behind her. She hadn’t heard him move.

  Even at Court when Queen Eyra had been at her worst, Darah had never felt quite so precariously balanced, as if any wrong word, or look, could bring her downfall. A Court fairy would never be accepted here…but would they go so far as to hurt her?

  She wasn’t sure.

  Henry’s hand touched her hip and she tried not to jump. “Did you enjoy our little party?”

  Darah laughed—centuries of practice made sure that it didn’t come out like a nervous titter. “That was little? What do you plan to do for a real celebration?”

  “I don’t know yet.” He stepped away from her. “This is Darah, who is currently seconded to the mortal world.”`

  A few of the Greys laughed. “Is that what they are calling it now?”

  “Must be exiled, because she sure isn’t banished. I can smell Annwyn from here,” someone muttered.

  “What did you do to piss off the new King?” a voice from the shadows said.

  “Is he restoring banished yet?”

  The voices came at her from all around the room. She wasn’t sure who was speaking. The tall thin man? The ugly short thing—that was no doubt quite powerful if it had given up looks and stature to keep power. Then there were the tiny ones, Greys who could have sat on the palm of her hand, so close to fading away to nothing. She’d never seen so many in one place. Over a dozen, probably closer to two.

  She tamped down her growing fear of being trapped with all these Greys, keeping her features carefully schooled the way she always had. The Greys were more animated than most fairies, as if being in the mortal world had freed them from the rigid constraints of Court behavior.

  Perhaps with death trailing them, drawing ever closer, they had nothing left to fear. She couldn’t imagine living like that. She also couldn’t imagine living surrounded by the ugliness of the mortal world. All the banished had greying, dull skin, as if life was being leeched away. It was a stark reminder that fairies did eventually die, even if they appeared immortal.

  “Well, Darah? They are eager for news from Annwyn. Entertain us as we have entertained you tonight.” He smiled and signaled to a gaunt woman whose cheek and collarbones threatened to press through her skin with every movement. Yet she moved with grace and purpose and Darah was sure this woman was desperate to keep what looks she had left, even if that meant she’d waste away to nothing in the process.

  The woman brought a bottle of wine and glasses and gave them to Henry. He poured one f
or Darah. The liquid was dark, darker than berry wine, but this was no fairy brew designed for taste and color. This was mortal wine, designed for kick. And it was alcoholic. She hesitated. Henry clinked his glass against hers and then took a sip.

  “You won’t be bound here by drinking this wine.” He gave her a sly smile as if he knew all about Annwyn and the danger it presented to mortals. Did he realize the dangers the mortal world held for fairies? Probably not.

  If she drank this she could get drunk, something she had done many, many decades ago on a visit to the mortal world…a masked ball if she remembered rightly, in a horrid city with canals instead of roads. She suppressed a shudder at the memory of all that water. She had no intention of getting drunk tonight and letting her guard down, yet she couldn’t be a bad guest so she took a sip and smiled. It was quite sharp and heavy, nothing like what they called wine in Annwyn.

  In that moment she missed home so much it made her heart ache and her stomach cramp. She hadn’t been part of it for so long. As a shadow servant she’d been able to see and hear, but not speak and interact, only obey. Could she even remember what Annwyn smelled like in summer, when leaves crowned the castle and vines trailed flowers from the ceiling?

  She would see it again.

  “Annwyn is in spring.” She smiled even though she didn’t want to. Spring was a good thing. The long spring wasn’t. “However, it seems that the new King and Queen want to keep the place in limbo for as long as possible.” She managed to inject just the right amount of disgust into her voice—which wasn’t hard. Tradition said that the Queen spent time in the mortal world so the baby grew faster and summer arrived sooner. Summer always arrived with the baby.

  That caused a murmur. “What does that mean?”

  She shrugged. That the King and Queen were being selfish, thinking of themselves and not Annwyn? But that didn’t fit with Felan’s words and his desire for a kinder rule. Perhaps he was just establishing himself and his Queen and making it clear that things would be different. But expressing sympathy for him here wouldn’t fit with who she as supposed to be. “He’s making a point, I guess, that he’s going to do things his way.”