Ink Exchange (Wicked Lovely 2)

By the time Niall had most of the Ly Ergs retreating, Gabriel had bloodied Bananach severely enough that she was leaning against the one Ly Erg who’d held back from the melee. But even so, she fought until Gabriel punched her hard enough that she swayed backward and tumbled to the ground.

Gabriel told the single unwounded Ly Erg, “Take her out of here before Chela notices I’ve had another tussle with her.” He snarled at the rest of the Ly Ergs, who’d eased closer. “I keep getting into fights with Bananach, Che’s going to get all territorial. Don’t none of us want that, do we?”

The Ly Erg didn’t speak but merely stepped up beside the raven-woman. Bananach rested her head against his leg.

“You’re inconveniencing me, puppy. If necessary, I’ll see the ice queen or the kingling. Someone’s”—she snapped her jaw at Niall in what was either an invitation or a warning—“going to help me get this court set right.”

“Irial said how we’d handle things.” Gabriel stretched out his arms to show the raven-woman the spiraling orders on his skin.

“Iri needs to go. He’s in the way and not doing what needs done. War’s what we want. Need some proper violence. It’s too long.” Bananach closed her eyes. “And you following me everywhere’s getting old.”

“So stay put and I’ll stop following you.” Gabriel lowered himself to the pavement with a graceless gesture and began inspecting his wounds. He grimaced, a decidedly unpleasant sight with the blood flowing down his face, as he poked at a gash on his forehead.

The Ly Erg reached an already red hand down to caress Bananach’s bloody face and arms, nourishing himself on battle blood as his kind had once done on red-soaked fields. His skin shimmered as Bananach’s fresh blood seeped into his palm. Another Ly Erg walked up and laid his hand on Gabriel’s blood-covered face. Despite the fact that they’d all been trying diligently to skewer, maim, and otherwise incapacitate one another mere moments ago, they were almost cordial for a few bizarre moments. The Ly Ergs took the pain and blood into their skin, unmindful of past conflict in the moment of postfight pleasure and sustenance.

Then Gabriel swung at the Ly Erg who stood patting his still-bleeding wounds and said, “Enough. Get her out of here. Maybe you could try being obedient tomorrow?”

“Maybe you should try staying out of my way tomorrow.” Bananach stood and flicked her long hairlike feathers over her shoulder with a look of disdain. She might be bruised and unsteady on her feet, but she wasn’t cowed by anyone. Then, with a solemnity that was as eerie as her violence, she shifted her attention to Niall. “Think about what you want, Gancanagh—what’s right. Forgiving the Dark King? Forgiving the Summer King? Or letting me bring you justice, pain, and war, and everything you desire. We’d both be happy.”

Once she was out of sight, Gabriel asked, “You might have walked away from Irial, Gancanagh, but do you really want this lot influencing our court? Do you want to help her?”

“I’m not getting involved. It’s not my court.” Niall sat beside the Hound. He wasn’t sure, but it felt like one of his ribs had been cracked.

Gabriel snorted. “It’s yours as much as mine. You’re just too much of an ass to admit it.”

“I’m not like you. I’m not out looking for fights or—”

“You don’t back down from them, though. ’Sides, Irial’s not all about fighting either. That’s why he keeps me around.” The Hound grinned and gestured at the shattered windows and cracked bricks. “There’s more to the Dark Court than violence. You bring out another sort of darkness. We both belong in the shadows.”

Niall ignored the implications of Gabriel’s words. “I left the Summer Court. That’s why Bananach was here—because I am solitary, fair game, prey.”

Gabriel clasped Niall’s shoulder approvingly. “I knew you’d get it figured out eventually: you don’t belong with them. You get a few more things figured out, you’ll be all right.”

Then he lifted a broken brick and tossed it at a still-lit streetlight. As the glass shattered and clattered to the ground, Gabriel stood and started to walk away.

“Gabe?”

Gabriel’s steps didn’t slow or waver, but Niall knew the Hound was listening.

“I’m not letting him keep Leslie. She deserves a life. Irial can’t take hers like this.”

“You’re s

till a slow learner, boy.” Gabriel turned back. “She’s part of the court now. Just like you. Been part of it since that first touch of ink went in her mortal flesh. Why do you think we’re all called to be nearer her? I watched you try to resist it. Like draws to like. You’re both Irial’s, and with her being a mortal…”

Niall froze.

Gabriel gave him a pitying smile. “Don’t beat yourself up over things that are out of your control…or worry so much after the girl. You of all faeries ought to know Iri’s not going to give up on the ones he claims as his own. He’s just as stubborn as you.”

Then the Hound was in his Mustang and vanishing into the darkened street, and for the third time in less than two days Niall was left with answers that did more to confuse him than ease his worries.

CHAPTER 30

Leslie rolled over, out of Irial’s reach. Despite the vastness of the bed, she still felt too close to him. She’d meant to move several times already, to get up and leave. She didn’t. She couldn’t.

“It’ll get easier,” he said gently. “It’s just new. You’ll be fine. I’ll—”

“I can’t step away. I can’t. I keep telling myself I’m going to go. But I don’t.” She wasn’t angry even now, when her body ached. She should be, though. She knew that. “I feel like I’ll throw up, like if I move too far from you…”