Darkest Mercy (Wicked Lovely 5)

“We did,” a trembling thistle-fey said. Something had happened to the faery: his arm was bent the wrong way.

“She’s not in the house? Bananach?”

“No, my King,” another faery assured him. “She isn’t here.”

“I won’t let her hurt you.” Niall looked around at the battered faeries in the room. “None of you will leave.”

“Yes, my King,” they said.

He could feel their fear, their worry, and their desperation. It filled the room as thickly as the smoke from the smoldering furniture. The Dark King drew in their emotions, trying to fill whatever void had opened up inside of him. He considered asking them when the court had been attacked, but revealing his missing memories wouldn’t help his court.

Protect them, a voice urged.

Niall nodded. He wasn’t sure if he could, but he knew better than to show doubts. He blinked, and when he looked, he was in another room. A new group of battered faeries stood waiting. Two Hounds were in front of the faeries.

“Niall?” Gabriel came into the room. “Should I go get her?”

“Her?”

“Leslie has a right to know. He’d want her to know, but I can’t do everything.” Gabriel held out his forearms. They were covered in so much ink that they were unreadable. Words layered atop words; oghams blurred and moved.

Niall didn’t remember issuing so many orders.

“You can’t do everything,” Niall repeated. “Things . . . other things . . . There are other things.”

“Yes. Wise call, my King. I’ll send another Hound.” Gabriel’s relief washed over Niall. “And I can stay here for you and Iri.”

“Irial . . . He’s here?” Niall looked around. Something about that was wrong; something was wrong with Irial.

Gabriel stepped into Niall’s line of vision again, blocking out the sight of the faeries, who cringed when Niall’s gaze fe

ll on them. “Probably need to send a few faeries to keep Leslie safe.”

Niall’s gaze snapped to Gabriel’s face. “Leslie . . . yes. We need to protect Leslie. There’s danger. Bananach . . . she . . . Bananach . . .”

Images collided in Niall’s mind. Bananach had a sword-knife-talons-beak-knife. The Dark King blinked and repeated, “Leslie needs protection.”

But Gabriel wasn’t there. No one was there. He was in a room of shadows and smoke. Walls of darkness encircled him, and the Dark King couldn’t remember why. He walked through them, crossing the barrier of darkness and wandering through the house.

A sharp pain made him look down, and he realized that he’d lost something. It was in the house, but as Niall walked he couldn’t remember what it was or why he needed it. The house was in a state of destruction. How will I find anything? He looked around and saw a faery who appeared to be clinging to the wall.

“Did you bar the doors?”

“Yes, my King.” The faery swallowed audibly. “And the windows.”

“Good.” Niall nodded. “She won’t get in. You will tell the others to stay inside. I can’t protect you if you . . . Someone should tell Leslie. Where is Gabriel? My orders . . . I have orders for Gabriel.”

Chapter 17

Keenan opened the door and stared at her and only her. His queen looked as regal as any ruler he’d known. Her chin lifted. Her gaze was on him—not welcoming, but judging. Her once blue-black hair had sun streaks as if she’d lived at the beach, and within her eyes he could see a hurricane in motion. She still wore common clothes—jeans and a simple shirt—as she had when she was a mortal, but her bearing made them the clothes of royalty. Sun sparks of emotion danced over her skin. The tiny bursts of light made her seem to flicker like the sun itself.

She didn’t rise to greet him. Instead, she sat in judgment within the study that had been his retreat. It, like most everything else, was hers now; his court, his advisors, the struggle of correcting the court’s weaknesses, the challenge of finding balance—they all belonged to the Summer Queen as much as to him.

In the hallway beyond him, several of the Summer Girls sighed, and others started dancing. Keenan smiled at them briefly before returning his attention to the Summer Queen. Unlike his dancing Summer Girls, the queen was not smiling.

At all.

“Nice of you to remember where we live,” she said.