Ink Exchange (Wicked Lovely 2)

“Who cares?” she said.

Then he lifted her into his arms and carried her over the threshold into a world that was suddenly far more tempting than she’d realized it could be.

CHAPTER 29

Niall had walked out on his king; he’d failed Leslie; and he’d exposed his doubts and longings to Irial. He hadn’t had such a complete feeling of loss in centuries. He’d spent part of the night and the whole of the day walking aimlessly but had come no closer to any answers or even the right questions.

He’d seen the faeries watching him: Keenan’s and Irial’s and those who were solitary. Like I am again. None of them, even those who’d tried to speak with him, had made him pause. Several times he’d had to move them bodily from his path, but he hadn’t spoken a word or registered the words that they spoke.

But then Bananach was swaying toward him, moving like a shadow in the just-fallen night. The long feathers that spilled down her back fluttered and shifted in the breeze. She wore a glamour that made those feathers look like hair, playing mortal for him as she approached.

He stopped walking.

The smile she offered him was at odds with the malice in her eyes. She passed him, paused, looked back, and beckoned. She did not watch to see if he’d follow her as she walked into a narrow alley partway down the block. She did not glance back as she slipped under the metal fence or as she trailed her fingers over the razor wire that draped the top of that fence. It was only once Niall was standing behind her, like prey foolishly pursuing a predator, that she turned to face him.

Niall wondered if he was following her to his death: it was a fate he had considered and rejected after Irial allowed the Dark Court to torture him. It wasn’t the right choice then. Bananach would gladly have taken Niall’s life at the time had Irial not sent her away to indulge in her mayhem. It’s never the right choice.

But he didn’t retreat.

She leaned on the metal fence, her arm stretched over her head, her fingers curled around the loops in the fence. The barbed steel of the razor wire was just above her fingers, close enough that it looked like she was reaching for the poisonous metal. It was unhealthily attractive to him, her desire to touch pain.

He kept his distance and his silence.

She tilted her head to stare at him. The avian gesture contrasted with the mortal glamour she held on to as she waited. “Irial needs replacing,” she said.

“And you’re telling me this why?”

“Because you can give me change. He’s not right for us. Not now.” Her glamour shivered, flickering in and out. “Help me. Bring me my wars again.”

“I don’t want war. I want…” He glanced away, not knowing what he truly wanted. He’d followed her into a too-small space, pursuing the temptation of her violence. And leaving Leslie to figure ou

t the impossible on her own if I give in to the temptation of self-destruction. He’d run away from Irial, from Keenan. He was still running. “I’m not going to help you.”

“Smart answer, pretty boy.” Gabriel appeared beside him. The Hound held an arm out, tattoos racing furiously over his skin, and motioned for Niall to step back. “You need to move along now.”

Bananach snapped her mouth open and closed. Her glamour faded, revealing her sharp beak. “Your meddling is getting tiresome. If the Gancanagh wants to stay with me…”

Gabriel stepped in front of Niall just as Bananach launched herself forward. She shrieked, a sound that might have been laughter or anger or some combination of the two. Her hands were splayed open, her fingertips black talons.

“Court business, Niall. Go on now,” Gabriel said without glancing back.

Gabriel lifted Bananach and hurled her into the metal fence. Her feathers snagged on the razor wire, but she yanked herself away. Shredded feathers drifted to the ground behind her and were lost on the shadowed pavement.

Niall wanted to leave, to stay, to tell Gabriel to get out of the way so Bananach could end the confusion and depression that had been weighing on him, to tell Gabriel to rip into her. Instead he stood still, watching, no more resolved than he’d been when Bananach had beckoned him to follow her.

It wasn’t truly beautiful to watch Gabriel in action, but there was a brutal harmony in his movements. Like the Summer Girls’ dancing, Gabriel’s fighting had a rhythm to it, a song of its own. But the Hound’s moves were well matched by Bananach’s fury. The raven-woman was gleeful as she darted away and then returned to dive at Gabriel with abandon. From somewhere she drew a bone blade that glowed with preternatural light. Her black-taloned nails stood in relief against white bone and red blood as she slashed Gabriel from his left brow to his right cheek.

The fresh blood drew cries of pleasure from a group of Ly Ergs who filed into the enclosed lot from the street. Their red hands twitched in unison as they began circling Gabriel. They took some of their sustenance from freshly drawn blood, a habit that Niall had found disquieting when he’d learned of it. There weren’t enough of them to overcome Gabriel, but with Bananach there too…It’s not really my business. It’s Dark Court business. Which is not my court.

Niall started to step out of their path, but leaving Gabriel to a half dozen Ly Ergs and a blood-mad Bananach wasn’t something that set well with him. Gabriel’s arrival had prevented Bananach from seriously wounding or killing him. He owed Gabriel for that. The Hound might not expect it, but Niall expected it of himself. That was one thing he hadn’t lost, his honor.

He threw himself into the fracas—not for a court or a king, but because it was the right thing to do. Standing by while someone—even Gabriel—was outnumbered wasn’t an option.

Niall didn’t worry about consequences as he struck the Ly Ergs. He didn’t worry about where his king was. He didn’t worry about anything. He avoided some but not all of the Ly Ergs’ blows. Although the red-palmed faeries were more concerned with drawing blood than with inflicting permanent injury, they had murdered their share of faeries and mortals over the years.

Bananach darted past Gabriel and caught Niall in the upper abs with the tips of her boots. Searing pain rocked him back as the boots’ poisonous iron cut into his flesh. He stumbled, and she pressed her advantage with a swipe of her blood-soaked talons.

Then Gabriel grabbed her and steadfastly moved their fight away from Niall, back toward the fence, leaving Niall free to deal with the Ly Ergs. It was disturbingly good fun, salve for the gloom Niall had been trying to shake. It didn’t change anything but was refreshing.