Drink Deep (Chicagoland Vampires 5)

"Wel put." After a heartening breath, he pul ed his han sul m the ad into a fist and rapped on the door.

After a moment, it opened with a grating, metal ic sound.

A man in black - a fairy of the same dress and build as the ones who guarded the House, stood in the doorway. He asked a question in a quick, guttural language I didn't understand, but thought might be Gaelic.

"We ask if the queen would deign to see us," Jonah said.

With a jaundiced eye, the fairy looked us over.

"Bloodletters," he said, the word obviously a slur.

"We are what we are," Jonah advised. "We make no attempts to hide it. We are here as emissaries of vampires."

The fairy's lip curled at the mention of vampires. "Wait,"

he said, then closed the door in our faces.

"As if we could do anything else," Jonah muttered.

"Not up to pushing your way into a fairy enclave tonight?"

"It's not high on my agenda," he said. "Not that you couldn't take them, of course."

"Of course," I al owed. Before we could continue the back-and-forth, the door opened again, and the fairy stared out with raven-dark eyes.

Before a second had passed, his katana was at my throat, and a second guard - this one female - was positioned behind Jonah, her katana pointing into his back.

"You are invited into her abode," the fairy said. "And it would be rude to decline the offer."

CHAPTER TEN

THE MAD HATTER'S TEA PARTY

We lifted our hands into the air.

"We can hardly say no to such a sweet invitation," Jonah dryly said.

The fairy dropped his sword just enough to al ow us to pass, while the one behind us poked us in the back like cattle until we maneuvered in the door. Once in the tower, they shut and bolted the door again and took point beside us, katanas at the ready.

I'm not sure what I should have expected to see in a fairy queen's abode in the top of a tower. Ancient, dreary furnishings encased in a thick carpet of dust and spider silk? A broken mirror? A spinning wheel?

The round room was larger than it should have been given the narrowness of the tower, but it was tidy and decorated with simple hewn wooden furnishings. A canopy bed sat across the room, its round, fluted columns wrapped in flowering vines that perfumed the air with the scents of gardenias and roses. A giant table of rough-hewn, sun-bleached wood sat nearby. There were draperies of cornflower blue silk along the wal s, but not a window to be seen.

What I thought was a delicate chandelier hung from the ceiling; on closer reflection, I realized it was a cloud of monarch butterflies. There were no bulbs in the chandelier, but it glowed with a golden, ethereal light.

And katanas weren't the only weapons in play. As I suddenly heard the echoing sound of a lul aby played on an antique child's instrument, the pressure in the room changed. A panel of wispy fabric was moved aside on the canopy bed . . . and she emerged.

The fairy queen was pale and voluptuous, with wavy strawberry blond hair that fel past her shoulders. Her eyes were dusky blue, and she was barefoot, vul m s pal dressed in a gauzy, white gown that left nothing of her curvy form to the imagination. A crown of laurel leaves crossed her forehead, and a long, ornate locket of gold rested between her br**sts.

She walked toward us with shoulders back and an unmistakably regal bearing. I had the urge to genuflect, but wasn't sure of the etiquette. Was it appropriate for an enemy of the fairies, for a bloodletter, to bow to their queen?

She stopped a few feet away and I felt the rush of dizziness again. I pushed it back and focused my attention on her face.

She looked us over, and after a moment, raised her hand, palm out. That being their cue, the guards lifted their swords.

"And you are?" she asked, a soft Irish lilt in her voice.

"Jonah," he said, "of House Grey. And Merit of House

"Jonah," he said, "of House Grey. And Merit of House Cadogan."

She linked her hands together in front of her. "It has been many years since we al owed bloodletters to cross our threshold. Perhaps the riddles are not as strong as they once were. The magic not as concealing. The guardians not as careful." Her eyes darkened dangerously, and I decided I had no interest in crossing Claudia.

"We have need to speak to you, my lady," Jonah said.

"And those who offered the riddle of your location were wel rewarded for it."

For a moment I saw the same avarice, the same lust for gold, in her eyes that I'd seen in the guards.

"Very wel , then," she said. "You are here to discuss contracts? It seems money is al vampires and fae have to speak about these years."

"We are not," he said. "We're here to discuss events of late in the city."

"Ah, yes," she said with slow deliberation. She moved across the room to the table, then glanced back over her shoulder at me and Jonah.

She was quite a sight to behold, like a character stripped from a fairy tale painting: the hidden fairy queen, equal y ethereal and earthy, gazing back at the mortal with innocent invitation, beckoning him into her woods.

I'd known women who used their sexuality to advantage.

Celina, for one, was the type to entice men to do her bidding with overt sensuality. But Claudia ensnared men differently. The sensuality wasn't a tool; it was a fact. She had no reason to try to entice you. You would be enticed.

And if you were, God help you. I couldn't imagine succumbing to the seductions of the Queen of the Fae, accidental y or not, was a safe course of action.

I looked at Jonah, wondering if he felt the pul . There was general appreciation in his eyes, but when he looked at me, it was clear the gears were stil turning. He gave me a nod.

"I have means at my disposal other than seduction, child,"

she said in a chiding tone, then took a seat in one of the tal , weathered chairs at the table. "We wil speak of many things. But first, you wil sit. You wil join me for tea."

I had a moment of panic. Didn't the myth say you were supposed to avoid any food or drink given to you by a fairy?

"My lady," Jonah careful y said. "We have need of - "

"Silence," she ordered, the single word carrying enough power to lift the hair at the back of my neck. "We wil speak of those things in due time. If you ask a boon, you shal give a boon. Sit at my table, bloodletters. Sit, and {ersf my ne let us speak of pleasantries. It has been many moons since I have shared my hospitality with your kind."

I wasn't thril ed about the delay, but I didn't think the two mean-looking mercenaries at the door would al ow a slight.