Beauty (A Faery Story 3)

Lach had his hand on his sword as he strode out the door. The light hit him, and he realized he’d forgotten his protective glasses. The light on this plane was too damned bright. It had been fine when they had traveled at night, but the full glare of afternoon reminded Lach of his vampire DNA.

“And just where are you planning on going?” Roan asked.

“Bronwyn is gone.”

Roan cursed and pulled out a small box he used to call his men in from their duties. “I don’t suppose you know whe

re she’s gotten off to?”

Shim stalked through the door. He stopped on his heels as the sunlight hit him. He slapped a hand over his eyes and stepped back into the shade of the house. “Damn me. What is that?”

Roan stood in the sunlight looking infinitely superior in his full military gear. His body was covered with lightweight clothes that protected his skin from the sun’s rays. As with many vampires he had implants that protected his eyes. They flowed around his face when in the presence of ultraviolet rays and disappeared when there was no longer a need for them.

Lach had not needed them before, but the sunlight in Tir na nÓg was taking a toll. He could stand outside, but his eyes ached. Shim, it seemed, couldn’t even stand to be in the sunlight at all.

“I should have known. Stay inside, Shim. You’ve had first blood, haven’t you? It’s why you’re stronger. I saw it the minute you walked downstairs. You feel it, don’t you?” Roan asked.

Shim put a hand over his eyes, staring out at the vampire. “I’ve never felt so damn healthy. Well, not since I was a child.”

“Consort blood. I’ve heard there’s nothing like it, but almost every royal taking consort blood knows that the ultraviolet effects get worse. Shim, you’ve had blood, but Lach hasn’t yet, has he?”

“No. I didn’t think we should both bite her,” Lach replied. His brother did look healthier, a fine flush to his skin where he’d been a pale white for years. After that terrible day so long ago when the connection had been cut between them and Bronwyn, and Shim had slipped into his long coma, he’d worried that Shim would never fully recover. He’d gotten healthier, but he’d never regained his full strength until this morning.

And now she was gone.

Dellacourt jogged up. “I can’t find Kaja. I’m worried she’s out there eating crap she shouldn’t be eating.”

Roan smiled. “I bet she’s run with our princess. Your Kaja is a smart woman, and she has a definite nose for trouble.”

Duffy stood beside Shim, his axe at his side. “I checked out the window. It looks like she used the sheets to climb down the side of the house. Why do you think she would do that?”

“Because she’s probably scared,” Dellacourt said, his irritation obvious. He pulled out his tablet and punched in some numbers. “You should have let me talk to her first. But no, you two had to jump in. I would assume at this point that the marriage has been consummated.”

“It wasn’t properly witnessed, but she is our wife and I’ll kill the man who tries to take her from us,” Lach snarled.

The vampire made a gagging sound. “Who thought it was a good idea for an Unseelie king and a royal vampire to get it on and create symbiotic twins? They should have known damn well it would produce a ridiculously over-the-top asshole. You don’t have to kill me, Lachlan. Bronwyn already got away. You might have taken a little time to talk to her. Introduce yourselves.”

“The mating fever did not allow for much talk,” Shim admitted.

The vampire’s head shook. “Well naturally. Are you part troll, too? I’ve heard they sometimes go insane and start eating brains.”

Lach felt himself flush. His cousin was a troll.

“I should have known. The Unseelie are not known for their pickiness when it comes to mates,” Roan said with a laugh. “Most Unseelie Fae have a little bit of everything in their family tree, unlike your Seelie brethren where there is a stigma attached to having mixed blood.”

“Do you think she ran because she was disturbed that we are Unseelie?” She would have been raised to think less of the Unseelie and their acceptance of the dark things of the planes.

Dante shook his head. “I think she ran because she woke up and found herself married to two strange men with very little explanation. Also her parents always thought she was a little touched in the head. She spoke of boys who played in her dreams. I suppose she meant the two of you.”

“Yes.”

“What would you think if you had spent the majority of your life believing in one thing and you wake up and find out you were completely wrong and what you believed was imaginary is real and has two penises and two sets of hungry fangs? I think Bronwyn can be forgiven for running.” He turned as the tablet beeped. “My Kaj, on the other hand, is going to get her sweet ass spanked. She’s to the northwest. What’s up that way?”

“Our land,” Gillian said, her face deeply sober as she stood under the awning. “She’s gone back to the tower. She wouldn’t leave without her knife.”

“She has her father’s knife?” Dante asked. “The one that matches his sword?”

Gillian nodded, taking a moment as she looked on the edge of some unnamed emotion. “She does. It was next to her body. I recognized it. I took it with me because I thought it would prove her identity. She’s protected it ever since. She would never leave it behind. She intends to kill Torin with that knife.”