Tithed to the Fae: Fae Mates - Book 1 Read online

  Daisy was cross-legged on the hearth-rug, looking as plump and harmless as a nesting hen. Cuan, having not forgotten her pain-hooks, was still maintaining a respectful distance from her.

  The small, narrow-faced woman called Jack leaned on a wall nearby. She toyed with her hammer, staring at him as though he was a crooked nail. He had the distinct impression that she was still reserving judgment on him.

  At least the final woman, who Betty had introduced as Cathy, had abandoned her frying pan. Without being asked, she’d made hot drinks for them all. This turned out to involve the small beans that he’d pilfered earlier. Sadly, the bitter black concoction had proved to smell better than it tasted.

  Cuan put his steaming mug down before he broke it. He clenched his gauntleted hands on his knees, fighting for calm. He was painfully aware that it was perilously close to midnight.

  Shining Ones, keep Tamsin safe.

  He could only pray that Morcant would not snatch her away the minute the appointed hour passed. Instinct howled that he should rush back to her now, now, but he held back the urge to reach for his callstone.

  This was likely his only chance to speak with the Wild Hunt women. He had to wring all the information he could from them.

  Tamsin’s life depended on it.

  “Does it matter that we don’t know exactly where the seelie were going to take Tamsin?” Cathy asked. “Couldn’t Cuan just escort her to their lands anyway?”

  “It’s got to be better than leaving her in the hands of evil psychic vampire elves,” Daisy agreed. She shot Cuan an apologetic glance. “Uh, no offense.”

  “None taken, Mistress Daisy,” he said, rather wryly. “Though I would suggest that you refrain from referring to any other high sidhe as ‘elves’ to their faces, should you be unfortunate enough to encounter any.”

  “That was the part of that description you objected to?” Cathy murmured.

  “We’re getting off-track,” Betty said. She sighed. “Again. Focus, people. We are seriously short on time here.”

  “Agreed.” Cuan looked around at them all. “Doubtless you think I am biased, but I sincerely believe that Tamsin would be in even greater peril if I blindly took her into seelie lands. Even if I managed to get her across the border without being shot in the process, she would likely fall into the hands of one of their war bands in short order.”

  “Which would not be good,” Betty agreed. “The Summer Knights are not sympathetic to humans. We need a better plan.”

  “Well, it would be a lot easier to come up with one if all this wasn’t completely new to most of us,” Jack grumbled. She shot Betty and Hope a pointed look. “You two should have told us about the fae months ago, not just when Tamsin went missing.”

  “You’re our friends,” Daisy said, turning wounded blue eyes on the hellhounds as well. “We trust you. I thought you trusted us too.”

  Betty, to her credit, looked a little chagrined. “It’s not a matter of trust. Shifters in general aren’t allowed to tell normal humans what we are. And the Wild Hunt is even more secretive. Even most shifters don’t know what we really do. Or that the fae exist, for that matter.”

  “Anyway, it’s kind of a hard thing to work into casual conversation,” Hope said, flashing a small, wry smile. “Hello, we’re your new neighbors, nice to meet you, sorry in advance for all the howling, please let us know if you need any help chasing gremlins out of your cabbages.”

  “There are gremlins too?” Daisy sounded delighted, which made it clear that she had never seen one of the creatures. “Can you chase them into my cabbages?”

  Cuan cleared his throat. “I apologize for the rudeness, but I am truly very short on time.”

  “Right. Let’s think this through logically.” Jack frowned down at her hammer, as though wishing she could bash a solution out of someone. “We can’t bring Tamsin back here, because the curse means she’ll die. We can’t take her to the seelie, because she’ll end up in the wrong hands. And we definitely can’t leave her with the unseelie. What does that leave?”

  There was a small, unpleasant silence.

  “There has to be something,” Cathy said. “What if—what if we all went back through the portal? We’ve got iron, after all. Could we help Cuan protect Tamsin?”

  Her hands twisted together. She looked nervous and frightened, and if the back of Cuan’s head hadn’t still been throbbing from her blow with the frying pan, he would have dismissed the suggestion immediately. As it was, he found himself giving it serious consideration.

  Shining Ones. She really did half knock my brains out if I am genuinely contemplating leading five human women—however valiant—against Morcant.

  …I would not bet against them, mind.

  “You can’t go, Cathy,” Jack said, while Cuan was still entranced by the arresting mental image of Daisy squaring off against Morcant. “You can’t leave your son. Kevin needs you. But that still leaves the rest of us. Who’s with me?”

  Daisy bounced to her feet, brandishing her weapon. “You have my sword!”

  Jack rolled her eyes. “Daisy, that’s a crochet hook.”

  “You have my crochet hook!” Daisy proclaimed, in exactly the same portentous tone. She cocked her head, eyes widening. “Oooh. Can I get a sword?”

  “Nobody is getting any swords,” Betty said firmly. “And nobody is going to the fae realm. I mean, technically, according to tradition, someone could offer to take Tamsin’s place as tithe—”

  Daisy’s hand shot up. “I volunteer as tribute!”

  “But that’s not an improvement,” Betty continued, as Hope gently pushed Daisy’s arm back down again. “We’d just end up with someone else trapped and in danger. I mean, if I could, I’d take her place, but unfortunately that’s out of the question. As a hellhound shifter, I’m technically a fae beast, so I’m not eligible.”

  “And the two of us can’t just storm the place and grab her, much as we’d like to,” Hope said. She grimaced at Cuan. “I’m sure you understand what would happen if members of the Wild Hunt attacked an unseelie sidhean.”

  “It would mean open war between the realms.” He rubbed both hands across his face, massaging his aching temples. “You cannot risk that. Not for one woman. I understand.”

  She put a hand on his shoulder, her blue eyes soft and sad. “We would if we could. Tamsin is our friend. But we’re bound by certain restrictions, just like you are as a member of the unseelie. Our rules are a bit different to yours, though. We can cross into the fae realm, sometimes, but only under strict conditions. We’re not allowed to attack the unseelie in their own lands, or interfere in their business. That’s why we have to rely on the seelie for any kind of direct opposition.”

  “I’m still don’t understand why no one from the seelie seems to have tried to rescue Tamsin already,” Cathy said, frowning. “Hope, you did say that they’d sent a message that they would, right?”

  “They did,” Hope confirmed. “And he or she should have been there by now. I don’t understand what’s happened to them.”

  A dry, pained bark of laughter escaped his tight throat. “They are seelie. You put faith in their honor?”

  “He’s got a point,” Betty muttered. “You’re too trusting, Hope.”

  Hope wrinkled her nose at her mate. “I have to be, to balance out your suspicion. The seelie have come through for us before. This isn’t the first time the Wild Hunt has had to enlist their help to haul a tithed woman out of an unseelie sidhean.”

  Cuan looked up sharply at that. “You have freed other tithed women?”

  Betty blew out her breath. “Well. Not entirely. Our mysterious seelie friend assured us that the women are safe and sound at a secret hideaway. But we haven’t been able to bring them back home yet. We have to break the tithe-curse on them first.”

  “A mage of my acquaintance has been turning his considerable skills to that end,” Cuan said, thinking of Aodhan. “But to no avail as yet. Have your own mages managed to progress fur
ther?”

  “We don’t have mages,” Hope said, one corner of her mouth quirking up. “The Wild Hunt has a rather more direct approach. We hunt down whoever offered the tithe at this end. Then we strongly suggest that they give back whatever they got from the fae.”

  Betty’s eyes gleamed with a red flash of hellfire. “Very strongly.”

  “That’s all?” Jack asked. “Dude just hands back the gold or magic stick or whatever, and the tithed person is free to go?”

  “Well, usually the Wild Hunt has to kill the wizard.” Betty shrugged, looking distinctly untroubled by this. “They don’t tend to give up their gifts quietly. But in my opinion, the world is better off without the sort of person who would shove a fellow human being through a stone circle into the arms of the unseelie.”

  “Wizards are generally not nice people to start with,” Hope put in. “And getting power from the unseelie makes them even worse. Kind of a corrupting influence.”

  “Anyway, undoing the bargain with the fae—either voluntarily or not—breaks the tithe-curse,” Betty went on. “Problem is, we haven’t been able to track down this particular wizard. He’s really good at evading us, somehow. That’s why the Wild Hunt ended up stationing guardians at every known active sidhean. We hoped we could catch him in the act.”

  “I take it you have still had no success in locating this man,” Cuan said. “And that you are unlikely to be able to do so within the next span of minutes.”

  Betty grimaced at him. “Right. And I can’t promise that we’ll be able to get him any time soon. How long do you think you could keep Tamsin hidden in the unseelie lands?”

  “Wait, wait,” Jack said, waving her hammer. “Isn’t there a more obvious solution? You said the tithe-curse breaks if the bargain is broken. It takes two people to strike a bargain. Cuan currently owns Tamsin, right? So can’t he just give her back, whether the wizard dude likes it or not?”

  “Technically, yes,” Betty said. “In practice, no. Cuan’s unseelie. The unseelie can’t break a bargain.”

  “You mean the same way that he can’t lie?” Cathy asked.

  “That is because I am high sidhe, in fact,” Cuan said. “But it is true that no unseelie could ever—”

  And the answer came to him, just like that.

  Only a few hours ago, he would have found it a nightmarish prospect, if he’d even been able to entertain the idea at all. But now…joy filled him, bright and pure. It was so simple that he almost laughed.

  “Mistress Betty.” He smiled at her. “I think I have a solution.”

  Chapter 33

  Tamsin didn’t have to play up her fear to keep Maeve’s court interested. The icy feeling in her gut was entirely real.

  Cuan, where are you?

  Even with Morcant’s cold stare fixed on her like a cat watching a mouse, her worry was mostly for Cuan. Not that she wasn’t anxious about her own fate, but she’d face that when it came.

  From the way Morcant hadn’t shown the slightest interest in her public meltdown, she was pretty sure he didn’t want to suck her soul dry, at least. And he hadn’t so much as glanced at her body, not even once, so she was betting he wasn’t planning to add her to his own sex dungeon. Whatever he did want with her…well, she’d just have to deal with it.

  But she couldn’t deal with something happening to Cuan. That was what made her palms sweat and her heart hammer against her ribs. She didn’t know what she feared more—that he wouldn’t show up, or that he would.

  She knew he wouldn’t have just left her like this, she knew it. He would have crawled on broken legs across the monster-filled void between the realms to return to her. Even if it was hopeless, even if he could only try to buy her a second to escape by flinging himself onto Morcant’s sword…he would have come.

  Don’t come, half her heart silent begged Cuan, while the other half howled in anguish, knowing that something must have happened to him. Save yourself. Stay away. Don’t come-

  “My lady,” said that deep, beloved voice from behind her.

  Tamsin whipped round. Cuan stood in the arched entranceway to the great hall, the door ajar behind him. He had one hand braced on the stone wall. There was a huge purple bruise blooming on one temple, and he looked distinctly the worse for wear. But he was there, with Motley at one shoulder and Aodhan at the other.

  “About time, beast,” Maeve said crossly from the high table. “You have kept us waiting.”

  Cuan bowed, though his gaze stayed fixed on Tamsin. When he spoke, it still wasn’t Maeve that he addressed. “I am sorry for the delay, my lady. I came as fast as I could.”

  Tamsin pelted for him, all dignity abandoned. He made the slightest oof sound as she crashed into him, but caught her in his arms. She pressed herself tight against his armored chest, hot tears of mingled relief and terror leaking down her cheeks. He was warm and solid and she knew, in that moment, that she was never, ever going to let him go again.

  “We have to go,” she whispered. She looked over Cuan’s shoulder at Motley. “We have to go now. Motley, open the door, to anywhere, hurry!”

  Cuan pressed a kiss to her forehead. “All will be well. But it is time, Motley.”

  The raven shifter opened his mouth, but whatever he’d intended to say was lost in the grinding scrape of silver against stone. Morcant had risen, pushing back Maeve’s heavy throne in a sharp, impatient movement.

  “Let us finish this at last.” The prince stalked forward, his ether armor appearing around his body in a glitter of light. He drew his blade from thin air, pointing it at Cuan. “Will you surrender, or face me?”

  Cuan ignored the prince. He kissed Tamsin’s brow again, then released her. Turning, he exchanged a silent yet meaningful glance with Aodhan.

  Then he took Motley’s wrist. “Take care, my friend.”

  The raven shifter gripped Cuan’s forearm in return. He smiled—that sweet, joyous, unreserved smile.

  “Good,” Motley said, sounding satisfied. “Right, this. Will see you again. Promise.”

  “What-?” Tamsin started, but Motley was already backing away, reaching behind him for the door handle. For the briefest instant, Tamsin smelled fallen leaves, damp loam—and then the door closed, and Motley and Aodhan were gone.

  “If you have finished your farewells,” Morcant said, with ice edging his voice. “Perhaps we can finally begin?”

  “No,” Tamsin breathed. Catching Cuan’s arm with one hand, she put out the other, pushing frantically at the door. It swung open a crack, revealing nothing more than the dark corridors of the sidhean beyond. “Cuan, you can’t, don’t throw your life away for nothing!”

  “I am not.” He touched her face, very gently, fingers lingering on the curve of her cheek. “Tamsin. All will be well. Trust me.”

  Her first impulse was to hang onto his arm and try to drag him away from Morcant…but something in his golden eyes made her hesitate. They were very calm and steady, just like they had been before the other duels…yet there was something new there, a kind of brightness, that she’d never seen before.

  “Trust me,” he breathed, and she did.

  She let him go. Cuan strode to the center of the room confidently…and straight past Morcant.

  The prince did not seem used to being ignored. For a moment he just stood there, blinking at the spot where Cuan was supposed to be, as though doubting the evidence of his own senses. By the time he finally turned round, Cuan was already down on one knee in front of Maeve.

  Lady Maeve stared at Cuan’s bowed head, looking just as nonplussed as Prince Morcant. “What is this, beast? Yet another last farewell before you meet your fate?”

  “Yes, in a way.” Cuan lifted his head, meeting her eyes. “Lady Maeve. You gave me a place when no other would. It was perhaps the only kindness you ever showed me, yet I am grateful for it nonetheless. Without you, I would not have met my mate. No matter what else, I thank you for that.”

  Maeve, for once, seemed lost for words. The court was m
otionless, watching as though spellbound. Prince Morcant stirred impatiently, his blade held low and ready.

  “I have tried to serve you faithfully and well,” Cuan continued. He didn’t raise his voice, yet every word carried clearly through the silent hall. “But that ends now, here. I renounce my fealty to you.”

  Maeve started up, her hands gripping the arms of her chair. A shocked gasp ran round the court. Morcant went absolutely still.

  Cuan’s voice rang out, steady and measured, cutting through the rising murmur. “I renounce your court. I renounce this sidhean. I renounce my place here.”

  “You cannot!” Maeve’s faemarks glittered with rage, bright against her white face. “I do not accept! I forbid it!”

  Cuan shook his head. “Do as thou wilt is our highest law. We are high sidhe. We go where we will, do as we will, and choose who we serve. Of my own free will I joined your court, and of my own free will I leave it. None may forbid me that choice. Not even you, Maeve.”

  A mass hiss from the court showed that Tamsin wasn’t the only one to notice the lack of title. Hearing it, Maeve flushed, a wash of dull red appearing across her cheeks underneath her blazing faemarks.

  “I care not whether you align yourself with this sidhean or some other,” Morcant said loudly. He swung his sword up to point at Cuan again. “I still challenge you for this human woman.”

  Cuan turned away from the red-faced, rigid Maeve to look calmly at the prince. “I am not finished, Prince Morcant.”

  What is he doing?

  Tamsin could only trust that Cuan was going somewhere with this. She clenched her hands together, having to forcibly stop herself from running over to him.

  “I will not go to any other sidhean,” Cuan said. “I renounce all fealty. I will no longer bow to the Winter King’s rule.”

  Utter. Silence.

  Cuan glanced across at her. The corner of his mouth hooked up, in that slight, wry smile she’d come to love so much. That strange, dancing light in his golden eyes brightened.