A violinist hurried to obey, and the voice of his instrument wavered into the stillness. Hearing it, the others resumed their playing, too. Viessa and I were halfway to a small doorway when someone called after us, “She should be questioned!”
Viessa stopped short, forcing the Guardians around us to do the same. It was almost comical how everyone turned at once.
The speaker was none other than Lord Micah. Surprisingly, he hadn’t conformed to the fur fiasco, and his olive skin stood out strikingly against the white dress shirt he wore. My reaction to seeing him was identical to how I’d felt meeting Nuvian in the passageway, but this time I swallowed the sigh.
Viessa, on the other hand, did nothing to hide her irritation—icicles grew from her fingertips like long, deadly claws. The faerie lord ignored this and held his dark head high. I am not afraid of you, the gesture said.
“Did you say something, Micah of bloodline Shadi?” Viessa asked after a tense pause.
“Someone is murdering council members, Your Majesty, and Fortuna Sworn has made multiple threats against this Court. Publicly, I might add.” Micah shot a jeer at me, and a fresh surge of dislike went through my veins. I didn’t miss having to deal with this faerie. Maybe I should finally kill him, now that I was no longer obligated to let him live. Or maybe I should just let this mysterious vigilante continue their work. Sooner or later, Micah would be on the hit list, if he wasn’t already.
I was still considering the possibility when Viessa asked, “Do you need to be reminded, yet again, that the council has been disbanded? Because I tire of these reminders, Lord Micah.”
Silence swelled in every part of the room.
I kept my eyes on Micah, my instincts as a Nightmare perking. He was afraid of her, I realized suddenly. As the Unseelie Queen waited for a response, the temperature around us dropping, I saw his throat move. It was barely perceptible, but something told me that was only due to his centuries of courtier experience. What had Viessa done to elicit such fear?
“No. I am not speaking as a council member, Queen Viessa,” Micah answered at last. His high cheekbones had reddened. “I’m merely saying that before we welcome the Nightmare with open arms, an investigation should be conducted.”
Viessa allowed one more pause to thicken between them. The air seemed to crackle with hostility and clashing power. None of that showed in Viessa’s voice, though. Instead it was pleasant and downright eerie. “The next time you decide to question my decisions,” she said, “I will have one of my Guardians cut your tongue out. Enjoy your evening, Lord Micah.”
The tiger padded after us again. We hastened through the side door, brushing past two armored faeries standing on either side of it. There were already more of them waiting within the passageway, of course. The moment there was enough room, the fae warriors planted themselves ahead and behind Viessa, and consequently, me. I felt my shoulders physically tensing, and I forced the tightness back out, exhaling under my breath.
I didn’t miss that, either—the Guardians. Constantly feeling watched, hounded, judged. Whatever guilt I’d been feeling about abandoning the Court to Viessa was overpowered by my relief, and now I really didn’t regret the choice I had made.
Something bumped the back of my leg. When I saw it was the tiger, my heart launched like a rocket, and I fought the urge to run.
“Oh, don’t mind Paul,” Viessa said, noticing the exchange. There was affection in the way she looked back at the enormous animal.
“You named your tiger Paul?”
Viessa didn’t appreciate my tone; she shot me an irritated glance. “I can see you disapprove. I suppose I can’t fully claim innocence, since he is a pet, after all, and wild animals shouldn’t be treated as such. Would it make any difference to know the life I’ve given him is truly the best alternative? Paul was born in captivity, and by the time we met, he was too old to be released into the wild. To make matters worse, the witch selling him cast a spell to make the sale more enticing. She advertised what she’d done on a cardboard sign—wrote it in black marker. I’m not sure why that’s always bothered me.”
Her voice had gone quiet with remembrance. I peered back at the cat again, telling myself that I had too many questions to ask the Unseelie Queen. I didn’t have any energy to spare on chitchat.
“What was the spell?” I asked. Okay, I’d admit it. I was invested in Paul the fucking tiger now.
The corners of Viessa’s mouth deepened, not out of humor, but sorrow. “It was a binding drenched in docility. He’s unable to attack anyone. He struggles to consume meat. He even has an aversion to using his teeth. All those beautiful, ferocious instincts silenced forever. Out there, Paul would starve. I’ve paid dozens of witches to try reversing it, but every one of them says the same thing. The spell can only be undone by the one who originally created it.”
“Let me guess,” I said softly. “She’s dead.”
She nodded. “It took my investigator a year to find her, but by then, it was too late. The medical report said her heart had given out. I suspect it was an effect of all the black magic. You’re familiar with tragic stories, of course. It’s easy to forget that about you, since you’re one of the strongest creatures I’ve ever met. Godly, really. I get incredibly jealous sometimes.”
Her voice was matter-of-fact. The compliment took me off guard, and I faltered. I cleared my throat. “Thanks. So what did you do that made Micah so—”
“Viessa.”
Nuvian’s came from behind, making me jump. He’d been silent for so long, and I’d gotten so absorbed by Paul’s story, that I had started to forget he was there. Or anyone else, for that matter. Viessa just let out another sigh and stopped. I followed the queen’s gaze to her brother, who’d halted in the middle of the path.
“Yes?” she said, visibly striving for patience.
Viessa wasn’t the only one. Nuvian’s words were clipped, his expression dark as a stormcloud. “A word with you, please.”
She sighed again, but this time it was through her nostrils. In the brief time it took to do this, a girl appeared through the wall of muscled faeries. I felt Gil go rigid, a dead giveaway that she was human. I’d learned things from the echoes of his hunger, one of which being how potent mortal blood was. There was something more urgent about it. More vital.
Why was she here?
This mortal didn’t look prepared to defend herself against a vampire in the grips of bloodlust. She wasn’t frail or cowering, but her fear tasted like pepper and wariness lived in her eyes. Her clothes looked more suited for an office than a den of vipers. Was she a visitor to the Unseelie Court? A… friend of Nuvian and Viessa’s?
My questions were irrelevant right now. I monitored Gil, worried this was the moment he lost control. Viessa addressed the girl in a far kinder tone than the one she’d used with Nuvian. “Rachel, show our guests to their rooms,” she instructed.
When I saw the girl bow, my uncertainty vanished. All at once, my power rushed to the surface, crackling just beneath my skin. Sensing something was amiss, the girl fumbled over her response. “Of c-course, Your Majesty.”
Viessa turned back to me, already frowning. She’d felt the shift, too. Some of the Guardians had unsheathed their weapons. “You made a blood oath,” I said with stiff-lipped fury.