Touch (Touched by the Fae 3)

I’m terrified that Nine will follow me right into an obvious trap only to be too weak to defend himself. I’ll take care of him—I’ll do whatever I have to in order to shield Nine this time—but hopefully the shadows will protect him for now.

We keep on pushing through the portal until, with a soft pop, it leads us right into a familiar space. I don’t want them to know what I did so I purposely dissolve the shadows as soon as we cross over.

And then I swallow my groan.

Oh, come on.

Fairy jail. The Seelie portal brought us right back to the same cell that Melisandre put us in the last time we were here.

“Open,” orders the lead soldier. The door opens and he says, “Inside.”

We walk into the cell together because, well, we don’t have any other choice.

The lead soldier gestures for two of his squad to stay put, watching over us, before heading off with the rest to tell the Fae Queen that we’re here.

Once we’re as alone as we’re going to get, I squeeze Nine’s hand. “You okay?”

A quick jerk of his head. A nod.

I exhale softly. Good.

Since the Fae Queen is the one who sent her soldiers to find us in Newport, I know she’s eagerly waiting for news that they managed to bring me back to Faerie. I don’t expect her to keep us locked in the cell for that long, and I’m not even a little surprised when, in no time, the lead soldier is back, ready to take us before her. In case he’s worried we’ll try something, every last one of his squad stands surrounding me and Nine, their swords at our back.

Whatever.

Let’s get this over with.

Just like last time, the winding trip through the freaking huge palace takes forever. You think it would be over in a blink of an eye because I’m dreading it. Nope. It’s just another layer of torture, the anticipating that each room we’re led to will be the last—before discovering there’s countless more we have to get through.

By the time he leads us into Melisandre’s massive throne room—full of way too many fae, both Light and Dark—forcing us by swordpoint to stand before the actual throne, I’m so keyed up that I just want to throw out my arms and be like, Fine, I’m here, what do you want now?

It looks like half of Faerie has come out to see this confrontation. Because of course they did.

The Fae Queen is sitting primly on the throne, the skirt on her violet dress fanned out beneath her. She’s wearing an opulent crown on the bed of her loose golden curls. Her lips are painted a soft pink. She smiles as her lead soldier bows, then retreats.

“Shadow. Ninetroir.” Her pale yellow eyes sparkle. Some might think she’s being sweet. Me? I know better. That’s pure malice. “So glad you can join us.”

From behind us, a loud, mocking voice calls out, “On your knees before the queen.”

“Aven, please.” Melisandre’s perfect face goes from innocent to scandalized to amused in a few flashes. The prim little ‘o’ formed by her pouted lips turns into a small smile. “Then again, my subject has a point. I am the queen.”

She lifts her hand, waving it, a gesture meant for the guards.

I can’t turn since I’m surrounded, a threat at my back and in front of me. I don’t know who called out—or what the guards are about to do—until Melisandre’s lips curl just enough to have a shiver shooting down my spine.

“Down on your knees, Ninetroir.”

Nine buckles.

No!

That’s not right. The name isn’t supposed to work. Not from her. She told me so herself. In Faerie, the fae can’t use another’s true name against them. It’s why she couldn’t just force Ash to hand me over when I was a baby, and Callie’s gift of seeing through glamour saved her from being touched. It’s why Melisandre turned them into statues—they were useless to her and, whatever her reasons, she didn’t kill them outright.

I don’t care about any of the threats around me. I only care about Nine. I turn to him—and that’s when I realize something. It wasn’t her command that had him moving, nearly falling forward.

Silver ichor pools beneath him.

Fae blood.