Dark Kiss: A Reverse Harem Fairy Romance (The Twilight Court Book 12) Page 17

  Raza gave me a warning growl, and I widened my eyes at him.

  “Dad, are you okay with watching them a while longer?” I asked Keir.

  “Are you kidding?” Keir tickled Caelum, who was perched on his lap, and my son giggled. “We're having so much fun, aren't we, children?”

  The children cheered.

  “Rowan and I love having the rest of our family with us,” Keir declared. “And Aunty Aideen has been visiting her mommy, so she's been playing with us too.”

  “Aideen is there?” I asked eagerly.

  Aideen's a Twilight Dryad friend of mine, who I hadn't seen in a while. She was one of the loveliest people I knew, and she was also the daughter of my Dad's fiancé. Oh, yeah, Dad had proposed at last. He and Eibhleann would be getting married in a few months. A fairy kingdom was about to have its first non-Sidhe ruler. I'd like to think that in our new Fairy Realm, it wouldn't matter, but I knew there would be a lot of angry Sidhe. Probably not in Twilight, but the other kingdoms. Sidhe are elitist bastards and even though Danu herself had condemned them for it, I doubted that they had all changed so drastically.

  “Yep, she's here helping her mother plan the wedding feast.” Keir grinned and gathered his grandchildren into a loose hug. “And these four are helping too.”

  “We taste the cakes,” Falcas said with his usual seriousness.

  “Do you now?” I grinned. “That's an important job.”

  My son cracked a grin, his shadowy hair—black with shifting gray highlights—moved around him as if lifted by a breeze, the silver streak at his left temple flashing. That streak matched his eyes—exact replicas of his father's—but also gave a nod to me and my purple ombré lock of hair. Fairy genetics is a funny thing.

  “Mommy, can we be flower girls and ring bearers?” Rowan asked, her pale green, snake eyes blinking hopefully.

  Even with those reptile eyes, Rowan looked like a little Irish angel, her red curls loose today, hanging to her waist, and her pale skin flushed with happiness to have her siblings with her. Those looks didn't lie either, that girl was sweetness incarnate. It was almost as if she and Falcas had been made to keep me sane when the other two threatened to drive me nuts.

  “Of course, you can,” I said. “Although, I'm not sure how Grandpa is going to have two ring bearers for one ring.”

  “There are two rings, Seren. One for Eibhleann and one for me,” my Dad reminded me. “You've had four weddings, I'd have thought you'd know this by now.”

  The children giggled while I grimaced.

  “I forgot,” I admitted. “In my defense, the title is ring bearer, not rings bearer.”

  “Because rings bearer sounds silly,” Dad said. Then he peered at my husbands and his voice sharpened, “See that you take care of my daughter. There are enough of you that you shouldn't have a problem.”

  The children went still, staring up at their normally cheerful grandpa while my husbands bent their heads in shame, as if my getting taken were their fault.

  “Hey!” I pointed at my dad. “I am responsible for myself. Don't you dare act as if they are stronger than me or that I need their protection.”

  My dad blinked and jerked back as my children jumped up and down, cheering for me.

  “That's right!” Shahzy pointed at her grandfather. “Mommy is strong, Grandpa! Girls kick butt!”

  “You tell him, Shahzy!” Raza said approvingly.

  “They're a team, Grandpa,” Caelum said. “Daddy and Mommy together. They protect each other.”

  “Girls have magic too,” Falcas said sternly. “Sometimes better magic than boys.”

  Rowan just patted my father's face as if he were a simpleton that she felt sorry for.

  “All right, all right!” My father held up his hands in surrender. “Stop with the grandpa bashing! I know your mommy is strong, she's my daughter after all. But, as Caelum said, when you're married, you're a team, and your fathers must protect your mother just as she looks after them.”

  The children pondered this, then settled down.

  I smirked at my father. “That'll teach you for trying to shame my husbands, Dad.”

  “Indeed.” He grimaced. “Still.” He narrowed his eyes at my men. “You heard me.”

  “We heard you, Dad,” Killian said with a touch of the whine I often used when speaking to my father. “We're doing our best over here, but you know your girl.”

  Keir sighed. “I do. At least you have some of your guards with you this time.” Then he realized what he'd just said. “Come to think of it, I need to have a word with them as well.”

  “Enough, Dad,” I said firmly. “We've got a lot of work to do here. I'll scry you later, okay?”

  “Okay,” he gave in.

  “Goodnight, my babies!” I blew kisses at my children.

  A discordant chorus of “Goodnight, Mommy!” and “Goodnight, Daddy!” was shouted back at us.

  Despite the cacophony, my husbands and I grinned blissfully, and the men said goodnight to their children. Then we ended the scry and sat there for a moment, smiling at each other.

  “They make it worth it,” Daxon murmured.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Everything,” Raza said, and we all agreed.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  The next morning, we were back at Drostan's home in St. Louis except that this time, it really was Drostan hosting us. His security team had been given some time off to fix whatever damage their absence had done to their personal lives, so all of us staying with him was like free security—his words. Ana had been horrified, then overjoyed when her true employer had come home. She confessed that she'd thought Drostan had been acting strangely, but it wasn't enough to ring alarm bells for her. The poor Kitsune felt so bad over not recognizing the impostor that she made a massive breakfast in the morning and fawned over Drostan so much that he finally begged her to sit down and have something to eat herself.

  Killian had spent hours touching things at Varcan's hideout before we left but got nothing helpful and was a little mopey this morning because of it. He said he hadn't heard a single thought, which was especially unusual, and the images he'd received were of people walking around the place or of Varcan trying to insanely court me. To sum it up, all Killian got for his efforts was annoyed. I could tell he was annoyed at himself more than anything. If he hadn't destroyed the bedroom, he might have found something useful there.

  I laid my hand on Killian's lap and gave him a reassuring pat. “It's not your fault. Don't worry about it.”

  Killian nodded but didn't say anything.

  “You know, it makes that vision of his fears even more disturbing,” Daxon murmured, his gaze going distant.

  “What exactly did you see?” Wayne asked.

  “I'm not sure what it was exactly,” Daxon admitted. “There was fire, screams, roars, and creepy laughter.” He blinked, then said, “Fangs and horns. I got flashes of fangs and horns.”

  “Well, who isn't afraid of fangs and horns?” Raza drawled smugly.

  Daxon just frowned pensively.

  “I can't believe he redecorated my house,” Drostan muttered into his coffee cup.

  We were in the dining room—my husbands, Wayne, Extinguisher Lance Sloane, Drostan, Lord Nightblade, and me—with a nice fire going in the fireplace and bellies full of hot food, both serving to warm us despite the chilling conversation. Drostan looked better in his clothes than his impersonator. I can't say what it was exactly, maybe it was just me projecting, but he seemed to fill out the corporate-casual clothing better. There was an air about Drostan that radiated confidence and control. He was comfortable in them—that was it. They were his clothes, so he was comfortable. It made perfect sense. Although, there was also a shadow in his eyes, one I recognized. You don't walk away from imprisonment without some kind of mark on you. At least Drostan hadn't been tortured; he'd be fine. I'd seen fairies recover after I'd freed them from the dungeons of Castle Seelie and Castle Unseelie, and they'd been horri
bly tortured for years. Horribly.

  “It's just stuff,” I said gently. “You can replace it.”

  “Oh, I know.” Drostan smiled at me. “Believe me, I don't care about the furniture. It's the fact that he made himself at home in my home. In my very skin. It's unsettling. I'll have to contact all my business associates today and make sure he hasn't damaged my reputation.”

  “Business associates,” Wayne murmured thoughtfully.

  “You're right!” I pointed at Wayne, catching his thought instantly. “Follow the money. If it was Varcan all along, he probably used Drostan's money to fund his operation.”

  “I'm going to fry that bastard,” Drostan growled. “Extra fucking crispy.”

  “What she means is, your money could be a clue to finding him,” Wayne explained. “We need to look through your accounts. There could be a trail to follow.”

  “I'll contact my attorney and accountant.” Drostan stood abruptly. “I can have them here within the hour.”

  “Wonderful!” Wayne got up too.

  “Yes!” Lance slapped the table in excitement. “A fucking solid lead. I'll send a team out to that area we investigated before—the Jeff-Vander-Lou neighborhood. Maybe we can get some hits on that new drug, Dark Kiss.”

  “Wait, hold on.” I got up a little slower, distracted by a thought. “You're not gonna find that drug on the street. It's similar to ecstasy, and that's a party drug. We'll have to look for Dark Kiss in bars or at music festivals, that sort of thing.”

  “There aren't any music festivals in St Louis at this time of year,” Drostan said with a scowl.

  “No, but there will rave clubs.” Lance tapped the table. “Good thinking, Ambassador. I'll put the team on canvassing for the hottest clubs.”

  “Are raves still a thing?” I asked in surprise.

  Lance frowned. Blinked. “I don't know. I haven't been out in a while, and I always go to extinguisher clubs.” Then he brightened. “I guess we'll find out.”

  “It's all good. No problem out there,” Conri declared as he swept into the room. Then he spotted breakfast. “Why didn't anyone tell us there was breakfast?”

  Wayne and Lance chuckled at Conri as they strode past him, out of the room.

  “Because your task was more important,” Raza snarled at Con. Then he looked behind Conri, at Tybalt, one of the knights in his King's Guard. “Is it holding?”

  “I just said it was,” Conri huffed as he grabbed a plate and started filling it.

  Tybalt nodded somberly. “Yes, Your Majesty. It's solid.”

  “Good. Let the others know that breakfast is waiting.”

  “Thank you, Sire.” Tybalt turned so sharply on his heels that his long, black hair swung out behind him.

  “Thank you, Sire,” Conri muttered under his breath as he grabbed a sticky bun.

  “Do not mock my guards for being proper guards,” Raza snarled at Conri.

  Both Tiernan and Raza had a King's Guard, as I had a Princess' Guard, AKA the Star's Guard. When my husbands had come to Earth, they had brought their Guards with them. Which meant the guest house was full and so were all of Drostan's guest rooms in the main house. Also, Raza was right, Conri was an improper guard, but that's part of what I loved about him.

  Conri straightened and cleared his throat. “Sorry, Your Majesty.”

  “Someone want to tell me what that's all about?” I asked with irritation as I waved at Conri.

  “We set a ward around the house last night after we returned,” Tiernan explained. “Because we didn't know who we were warding against, we had to do a general ward that would only recognize certain people—our people. It was complicated, so we wanted to check on it this morning and make sure it was holding. The last thing we want is Varcan popping in here and grabbing you again.”

  “A ward,” I whispered. “Damn, I should have thought of that.”

  “You were tired, mo shíorghrá,” Raza said as he took my hand.

  “I should have thought of it too,” Drostan said. “That was how they grabbed me. They just appeared in my office.”

  “How did they get your security team?” Nightblade asked.

  “Varcan lured them into a room, one by one, and other men appeared and took them,” Drostan said. “I'm going to cast my own ward after this is over or I'll never be able to sleep again.”

  Wards were complicated spells, not just magic. They could be cast with all sorts of magic, but they weren't instantaneous like my firethorns were. There was a process to them that involved certain words and gestures depending on the result you wanted, and the larger an area was, the more power it took to protect it. Also, if you had similar magic to that which empowered a ward, you could potentially find a way through or even destroy it. Which is why my husbands had pooled their magic to create the one around Drostan's home. With a combination of Seelie, Unseelie, and Twilight magic, the ward should be indestructible.

  “You're welcome to keep ours,” Raza offered Drostan.

  “Thank you, but I'd like to have pizza delivered once in a while.” Drostan grinned.

  “It's only around the house,” Raza reminded him. “You've got a four-foot extension, so they won't be able to ring your doorbell, but you could always meet them in the driveway.”

  “Oh.” Drostan blinked. “In that case, thank you for the ward, Your Majesties.”

  “It's the least we could do,” Tiernan said. “Thank you for your hospitality, Baron Drostan.”

  “My pleasure.” Drostan grinned at Tiernan.

  They weren't exactly friends, but Drostan had been one of the few Sidhe nobles who didn't look down on Tiernan for defending his mother. In fact, Drostan had left the Seelie Court shortly after Tiernan had been banished. In a court where Tiernan, as its king, still faced secret disapproval, Drostan was a precious ally. Unfortunately, he didn't live at court. Still, maybe they could become friends now. Friends are always good to have, wherever they may be.

  Chapter Thirty

  Drostan not only called in his accountant and attorney, but he also spent some time with a sketch artist and came up with a sketch of Varcan and a few of Varcan's men. All three—the accountant, attorney, and artist—had to be escorted through the new ward. But since two of them were fairies and the third a councilman, they understood.

  The councilman sketch artist had left—his sketches now taped to the dry erase board—but we were still meeting with the accountant and attorney. The attorney being Margaret Walsh. Margaret was a partner in the firm, Byrne & Walsh, and her entire staff, like herself, were Baobhan-Sith. Also known as White Women—that's a title, not a racial thing—Baobhan-Sith are basically vampire fairies who feed on blood and life force. I thought it was fitting that they were lawyers.

  I knew about Margaret's staff because I had met her before. She had stonewalled us when we went to her seeking information on Ubaig Inc., the shell corporation that had been connected to Newt. Well, of course, it had been Drostan's—transferred to Verisande at his request. Or Varcan's, rather.

  Margaret now sat across from me, looking impeccable in her designer suit, with her black hair drawn back in a smart chignon. But there were lines of strain on her face and her long, sharp nails absently scratched at the tabletop as her gaze flicked between Drostan and Raza—Drostan because she'd just learned of his impostor, and Raza because he was her King, and she had disobeyed his direct order the last time she'd seen him.

  Margaret seemed both surprised and relieved to discover that someone had been impersonating Drostan. When Varcan had approached her about creating the shell corporation, she thought it out of the ordinary, seeing as Drostan was an upstanding businessman, but it was bad business to judge her clients—her words. However, now that she had Drostan's approval, she could divulge all the dirt, obeying her King's order at last, and had handed over folders on the numerous properties purchased by Varcan in Drostan's name.

  That being said, the strain on Margaret's face wasn't merely in response to the news that Drostan
had been imprisoned for the last few months, or the cold looks she was receiving from Raza. Ms. Walsh had found herself in a most unusual position. Because her client demanded that she share all the information on the illegal activities his impostor had been doing in his name, she had to hand it over. But where Drostan was innocent of the crimes, she wasn't, and she was, in effect, being forced to implicate herself.

  “We're not going to charge you with anything,” Wayne finally said when he noticed how nervous Margaret was getting. “Relax. We just need your help.”

  Margaret let out a long breath—a far cry from the cocky attorney I'd met a few months ago. As a fairy working in the human world, she had loopholes she could take advantage of. They had protected her from Raza's retribution as well as extinguishment, but those loopholes wouldn't help her now, not when she was handing us evidence of her crimes.