Storm's Heart (Elder Races #2)(99)

Niniane clenched her teeth and grew teary. Carling gave her a brief disinterested glance as she stepped to shore. Then the Vampyre’s attention moved to Rune and paused for what could have passed for a heartbeat.

Niniane turned to Rune too.

He stared at Carling. His handsome face was carved into stark lines, the bones standing out. The lines of his body thrummed with tension, the muscles cut with rigidity. His golden lion’s eyes blazed.

Carling turned from the sentinel. She plucked her clean caftan from the bush and shrugged it on, her movements languid and unhurried. Her expression remained bored, and her face and body gleamed with radiance.

“Perhaps we should talk in my tent,” Carling said.

Niniane followed Carling back to the campsite. The Vampyre stepped inside her tent, which was a large, modern nylon affair with zipped-up windows. Niniane paused at the entrance. She said to Rune, “Please wait here. I know Tiago wanted me to stay with one of you at all times, but I’m only going to be on the other side of this canvas.”

Rune nodded without speaking.

She hesitated. She didn’t know what she was tempted to ask him, maybe just if he was all right, but his expression was tight, closed-in, and his body language warned her away. She sighed. Sometimes Wyr were inexplicable.

She stepped in the tent. Inside it was decorated with the damask silk hangings and the mahogany inlaid trunk from the hotel. There were no chairs, just a scattering of pillows on a rug. Carling poured two glasses of red wine. Her dark wet hair lay sleek against her head. She turned and offered a glass to Niniane, who took it. Then Carling sank down to sit cross-legged on a floor pillow. Niniane tried not to show her struggle as she eased her aching body down onto another pillow.

Carling sipped wine. “What do you need?”

“Some advice, if you can give it.” Niniane rubbed her eyes. There was no point in beating around the bush. She asked the Vampyre, “Do you know if any of the Dark Fae in this group tried to kill me?”

“No,” said Carling. “I do not.”

Niniane struggled to verbalize her next question. It was surprisingly hard to ask. “How do they—feel to you?”

Carling shrugged. “They feel like people.”

“I mean emotionally. Could you tell if one of them was feeling violent?”

Carling’s eyebrows raised. “Certainly. I can also tell when they are feeling sad or angry, and when they feel dislike or joy. None of these emotions have anything to do with whether or not they have committed, or have conspired to commit murder.”

Niniane ground her teeth and growled. “This is so frustrating. I just spent time with each one—well, except for Arethusa, who’s been busy this evening. I enjoyed each one’s company. They all acted like they liked me.”

“No doubt they do like you, and why wouldn’t they? You are an engaging person.” Carling smiled. “But I have killed someone I liked before. I have killed someone and felt regret. I have also sensed violent emotions from you, but you have not erupted into violent action. Emotions are like colors, Niniane. Thoughts and actions provide structure and purpose to a person. It is only when you put them all together that they begin to form a real picture. The Dark Fae are a complex people, with many years of memory and motivation to influence their actions and ambitions.”

“Okay,” Niniane said. She swallowed wine. “I guess I was looking for a shortcut, and there isn’t one.”

“I’m sorry, no there isn’t.” Carling paused then said, “But now that we have a chance to talk, I would offer you a word of advice about something else.”

“By all means.” Niniane drank more wine. “Please do.”

“I suggest you go carefully with Tiago. All of the Dark Fae are feeling threatened and aggressive about him, except perhaps for Aubrey, whose reaction has been surprisingly low-key.”

Niniane asked, “How has Aubrey reacted?”

“I would say he’s concerned, maybe even troubled, but I have not picked up feelings of aggression from him.”

Did that mean Aubrey was taking Tiago’s presence well, or did that mean he wasn’t too threatened by Tiago’s presence since he planned on killing her anyway? Argh. This kind of thing was going to drive her around the bend. She tossed back the last of her wine.

Carling continued. “I think there is only so far you can take your relationship with Tiago and hope to hold the throne in peace. No Dark Fae will ever tolerate a Wyr as ruler. In fact, I will take that statement further. No other Elder demesne will tolerate it. Power among the United States Elder Races is carefully balanced. The Wyr cannot be seen as taking more than their allotted share.”

“Tiago and I have discussed that,” Niniane said. “He has no interest in the throne.”

“I am not talking about just Tiago,” Carling said. “I am talking about any potential heir.”

Niniane went still. Even her mind stopped working. She said past a sudden rasp in her throat, “You mean any children I might have?”

“Let me be blunt,” Carling said. “You cannot take the throne, have children with Tiago and hope to avoid war, either civil war with the Dark Fae, or war with the other demesnes.”

The restrictive band around her chest was back. She moved carefully to set her wineglass aside and forced herself to take slow deep breaths.