Beauty (A Faery Story 3)

Roan stared down at the boy, his mouth a harsh line. “Your son is certainly a consort or what you would call a bondmate. I see his glow as clearly as the female consorts here.”

“And any vampire would be horrified at his condition,” Dellacourt assured them.

Lach felt a building rage. Torin hadn’t meant to sell this boy. No vampire would accept that his consort had been treated in such a way. “I’m not a full vampire, but I know for a fact that the one way to have gotten the council to enter this war was for word to leak that consorts were being abused. They would have invaded.”

Gillian kneeled by the bed, laying her hands on the young man. She closed her eyes and seemed to be calling on that part of herself that worked magic. “He’s been fed upon, but not in any way I understand.”

Lach’s stomach turned. He remembered the vision the hag had sent him. “The hag. She’s been eating at his soul.”

Nate made a low moan of pain and clutched his son’s hand. Zane turned a stark white.

“What does it mean?” Zane asked.

Thank gods his smarter half liked to study. Shim folded his arms across his chest. “It’s not as bad as it sounds. Hags, even some non-corporeal dead, can feast on the living. What I believe she’s trying to do is absorb his psychic power.”

“She wants to be able to bond?” Bronwyn asked. “Why?”

Shim shrugged. “I don’t know, love, but it would explain the ritual of soul eating. It would take a long time. She would have to drain him over a couple of days or weeks. She would take his blood, withhold food and water. She would torture him. Anything to break down his resistance. The body needs a soul. It would rather die than go without one so she has to be careful. If she simply killed him, the soul would go wherever souls go.”

“Through the door,” Duffy said. Lach felt his heart twist as his brother, his little champion, spoke. His small hands clenched together. “There’s a door and light. It calls to a soul, tells you to go through, that more adventures are waiting, just waiting past that door.” He shook his head and a deep breath filled his lungs. “Or that’s what I’ve heard.”

Shim looked at Duffy, suspicion clear in his eyes, but he continued anyway. “She has to bring him to the brink of death, little by little so the soul hovers, unsure whether it’s time to go or not. And she catches it and consumes it in a ritual. I’ve only read about it, of course, but technically it should give the hag any powers the soul contained. Consorts and bondmates have measurable psychic energy. I’m sure that makes her spells more powerful.”

“She’s making up for the lack of three.” Charlie’s eyes opened, his voice strained.

“Don’t, son,” Zane said. “Rest. We’ll have you home to your mother soon.”

Charlie’s head shook. “Already feel a little stronger. How did you get into the dungeon?”

“Believe it or not, a sluagh guided us. He knew how to sneak in.” Nate gripped his son’s hand. “I know this sounds crazy, but he looked just like the old king.”

Bronwyn sniffled a little. “My father. I was told he fought to stay even after he died. He’s still fighting for his kingdom.”

A kernel of guilt opened inside Lach. Duffy’s words echoed in his ears, but he wasn’t going to let them sway him. Bronwyn needed to be safe. Duffy needed to be safe. It was better than any cause.

Charlie’s head turned at the

sound of Bronwyn’s voice. “It’s you.”

She smiled, a little sadly. “I am Princess Bronwyn. I am so sorry I haven’t done anything to help.”

“No. Not the princess. You’re the voice. You’re the voice in our heads. Goddess, I can’t believe you’re real. Can’t you all hear it? Do you hear the hum?”

Kaja walked to the bed. “I have heard it for days, but Dante thought it was all the vampire technology.”

Gillian’s eyes turned down. “I’ve heard it since the day I met her as a girl. But it was faint. Just a hum in the back of my mind until the last few days.”

Lach closed his eyes, the enormity of what his wife was hitting him squarely in the chest. He didn’t want to be sure, but he had to. “Bronwyn, think something.”

She glanced at him, confusion on her face. “I am almost always thinking something.”

Shim seemed to understand immediately. “Think something at Gillian. Specifically. Try to get her to hear you.”

Bron turned toward Gillian and her brow set in a serious line.

Gillian, Kaja, and Charlie all winced, each holding their heads. “You don’t have to shout.”

“Sorry.”