Rise of the Seven (The Frey Saga, #3)(32)

Chore accomplished, I thought I might be able to finally get some sleep. But just before I pulled from the hawk’s mind, I spotted Steed in the yard. I drifted down, landing on the parapet to watch him prepare for the trip to Camber. His humming stopped the moment my talons touched stone. I smiled, though he would never see it. Wings stretched, I glided past him, not missing the way his shoulders tensed as the bird passed behind his back. He latched the pack tight against his horse, resolutely not looking my way. I swung around to settle on a post opposite him. Stone-faced, he cinched Grey’s pack to the second horse.

I waited him out, certain he couldn’t keep his gaze from finding mine for long. When he at last broke, I held utterly still. And winked. His expression was priceless. With a much-needed laugh, I returned to myself and kicked off my boots to finally get some rest.

It was the last I’d have, because when I woke by the light of dawn, there was someone in my room.

Instinct tore at me to move, but I was trapped. Some unseen force had turned my limbs to lead and I could do nothing but stare up into the face of a fey idol.

Veil held himself above me, bare torso inches from mine, fisted hands on either side of my immobile shoulders. I opened my mouth to curse, but my chest had the same heaviness as the rest of me and my lungs seemed empty of air.

“You should have heeded my warning,” he whispered so quietly I had to strain to hear. “You have disregarded the gift in your eagerness for vengeance.”

I stared up at him, contemplating whether to hear him out or risk using magic. My chest rose and fell unbearably slow beneath him. He glanced down.

Suddenly, as if he realized too late what my reaction to such a gesture would be, he was closer, peering into my eyes as he whispered, “No. Do not tempt me by using your power.” He was so near I could see his pulse hammering, but I didn’t know whether it was fear or excitement. Sometimes with the fey they were one and the same.

He shook his head. “Revenge tastes sweeter with time, my Freya.” His gaze roamed my face, the dark strands of hair across my pillow, the bare flesh of my neck.

I narrowed my eyes at him, and felt the thickness in my throat giving. It wouldn’t be long before I was free of the dust. A few more minutes and I would strangle him. Veil could see the change in me and his mouth turned down in what I would have called a grimace on a less attractive man. His wings flicked once in frustration.

He knew he was out of time. I wondered who stood guard behind my closed door, unable to hear his words, no louder than a breath.

Veil’s warm eyes met mine, the color of honeyed tea in the morning light. But no, darker this near... more like maple sap over stone. I mentally shook myself, trying to work through the drug. It wasn’t the same as Ruby’s blend, but it wasn’t right, either. He waited for me to focus on him again, he wanted my attention.

“If you do this,” he warned, “you will leave me no choice.”

As far as warnings went, this one was pretty clear. I wondered briefly why he’d taken such an un-fey-like action. And then I wondered how he could possibly smell so good. And then I remembered I hated fairies and wondered if I could drive the spiked pendant on the table through his side without risking my magic. The last thought made me smile, which clued both of us in on the fact that I’d regained muscle control.

We reacted at the same time, my head snapping forward to slam into his chin just as he moved back and off the bed. I flipped myself up to land beside the bed, but I wasn’t fully recovered and my legs crumpled beneath me. From nowhere, Veil grabbed my upper arm to steady me. My right fist swung across to strike him in the side. The scuffle had lasted only a fraction of a second, but it was enough. Rhys burst through the door and Veil was gone.

“Find Ruby!” I yelled, my voice weak but anger propelling the command with sufficient force Rhys didn’t stop to question it.

I stared down, panting, body struggling to manage the effects of dust and adrenaline. It seemed like only seconds later when Chevelle showed up, but it must have been longer, because my breathing was steady and I could feel the tingle of my legs and the cold of the stone floor where I sat.

He surveyed the room, searching for any lingering threats, and I knew the instant his gaze found the glitter on the bed.

My head fell into my hands, a very unlordly gesture, and my shoulders shook with silent, frustrated hysteria.

Chevelle was staring down at me. “What did he want?”

“To warn me.” I took a deep breath before attempting to stand. “The fey don’t want us to take out council.”

“Since when do the fey care about elvin politics?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know, but if they know we’re coming, then council does.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Chevelle said. He stepped closer. “Tell me what he said.”

I took another deep breath.

He waited.

“If you do this,” I sighed, “you leave me no choice.”

Chevelle’s fist slammed into the bed post, splintering the wood to pieces.

“It has to mean they have always cared about our affairs,” I said. “But the power was shared before, split between the north and the villages.”

He didn’t respond, staring blankly across the room, through the empty space where the bedpost had been.

“So if we remove the remaining leaders of council,” I continued, “then I alone control the realm.”