Souljacker Read online

  Shayla said nothing, her gaze scorching through me like a laser.

  “I wanted to ask you if you could talk to Tricia…to get her to ease up…” I began to stumble over my words as the weretiger snarled again. She began to uncross her arms, and I had the feeling it wasn’t because she wanted to shake my hand.

  “You want to ask me to talk my friend into forgiving you? My friend who is burying her husband, because he was murdered with his pecker in your pussy?” Her voice was growing louder, and a couple of doors along the hallway opened. The last thing I needed was a pack of irate Weres after me. I decided to forgo pointing out that I hadn’t been having sex with Tygur when he got killed, and just get the hell out of Dodge.

  “Never mind! I’ll leave. But if you just think about it—” I didn’t have time to get the rest of the sentence out before she smacked me a good one. Her blow was so hard it flung me across the hall, landing me near the elevator. My side hit a garbage can, knocking the wind out of me.

  I scrambled to my feet, rubbing my jaw and holding my ribs.

  By her stance, it was obvious she was ready to go at it, and I wasn’t stupid enough to think I could come out on top. I backed away, one hand held out in front of me. Weres were volatile when they were roused, and she had that look in her eye that told me she had slid into hunting mode. I had no intention on becoming her quarry. Luckily, as I fumbled for the button, the elevator opened immediately and I jumped inside as she started after me. I hit the close button and, as the elevator started down toward the parking garage, I prayed that she wouldn’t be there waiting.

  Luckily, there was no sign of Shayla as I cautiously peeked out the doors. I raced for my car. She must not have been interested enough to take to the stairs. Either that or she had managed to cool down enough to let me go. Either way, I counted my blessings on getting out without more than a bruise or two. As I peeled out of the garage, Marsh appeared in the passenger seat again.

  “You were lucky,” he said.

  “I know.”

  “Where to next?”

  “It’s time for me to go see Wynter. You better make yourself scarce once we get there.” But all the way over toward Faeside, I kept thinking about Shayla and her reaction. I had a very bad feeling I wouldn’t be getting my business squared away again for a very long time.

  Chapter Thirteen

  On the east side of Lake Washington, across from Seattle, the area still held a swarm of cities. Most still went by their original names, but the Fae congregated around the Woodinville area, and once she had come out as a force, Wynter had set up her palace in what had once been known as Lord Hill Park, near Monroe. Since then, several of the big industry giants in the area had inexplicably pulled out, along with the military bases that had been stationed around there, and the population had dropped as the forest gradually reclaimed the outer edges of the developed areas.

  Agriculture had become the big thing as of late, and though Wynter kept things pretty chilly, the vineyards had broadened, and wine making—which had been an up-and-coming industry in the area before the Fae came out—had taken off. Western Washington was now renowned for its wines and spirits.

  As I drove through the countryside, Marsh stared out the window. When I had known him, it had been before I came to this part of the country. Given that he didn’t remember anything between his death and now, I figured he had probably never seen the area before.

  After a time, he cleared his throat. “What are you going to do about your business? That Shayla woman didn’t seem very amenable, to put it lightly.”

  I had been doing my best not to think about it, but realized that denial wasn’t going to help matters any. With a shake of my head, I said, “I don’t know. They’re out to ruin me. I might be able to convince my Fae clients to stick around, but the Weres? Lost cause unless they lift their sanctions. And Weres hold grudges. Since my clients generally only visit me once a month—I’m expensive—the remaining won’t be enough to make a living from, nor to satisfy my hunger. I’m not sure what to do.”

  “You can’t start taking humans as clients.” It was a statement, not a question.

  “Obviously. The truth is, I honestly don’t know what I’m going to do.” I paused. “When the Souljacker killed Tygur, he killed more than a client. He took down my business.”

  “Do you like owning the salon? I know you love sex, but…do you enjoy what you do?”

  I frowned. Nobody had ever asked me the question before. They just assumed I was horny all the time. Most people didn’t understand the nuances involved in the hunger that drove my kind.

  “There are worse ways to earn a living. I enjoy making people happy. Yes, I do envy women who can fall in love without worrying they’re going to kill their partner, but truth time? I’m proud of what I do. I give pleasure in a world full of pain. That has to count for something.”

  “It counts for a great deal, Lily.” He flashed me a smile, and I swear, for a moment it felt like the past had been transported into the present.

  “Damn it, why do you have to appear so corporeal? Why can’t you be all filmy and look like a real ghost?” I was only half joking. “You don’t know how much I’ve missed your laugh. You always could brighten my spirits when I was feeling down.”

  “I liked making you laugh. Your smile…I always loved it when you smiled.” He leaned to the side, staring out the window as we passed by a ravine. “The landscape here is wild and rough, isn’t it?”

  “You haven’t seen anything yet.”

  “By the looks of those mountains in the distance, I’d say you’re right.” Another pause. Then, he let out a soft sigh that sounded more like a whisper caught in the wind.

  “Lily, I don’t know what it means to be dead. If I ever did know, whoever summoned me made sure I have no memory of it. Or maybe I was just…nothing…until they brought me back? Maybe I’m not even real right now, but a construct?”

  “Maybe Dani can read the cards for you. She’s dealt with the spirit world far more than I ever have.” I didn’t mention my nightmare, but I intended to ask Dani about that, too.

  “Who’s Dani?”

  “She’s my best friend. She’s a witch.”

  If that fazed him, he didn’t let on.

  Another few miles in silence, and then we were onto the highway that would take us to Wynter’s palace. Traffic was light, but the Overpass Train zipped by, crowded as usual. Grateful again that I didn’t have to take mass transit, I kept pace, matching it for a few minutes before it rounded a turn and sped up for a straight shot up north.

  Another twenty minutes and we were nearing the gates of the Winter Court. I pulled over to the side of the road. “I have to change. I can’t be seen in court wearing this getup.”

  Marsh frowned. “You look fine to me.”

  “Not for appearing before Wynter, I don’t. There’s a strictly regulated dress code when it comes to the Courts of Fae. Now is not the time to buck it.” I eased into a gas station with a convenience store and parked around by the restrooms. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  After getting the key from the attendant, I quickly unlocked my trunk and pulled out a large garment bag. I had worn this outfit exactly fourteen times in my life, though I had owned it for two hundred years. I kept it in pristine condition because it had been terribly expensive. Even now, it would cost a fortune to have redone. As I gingerly opened the bathroom door, I was relieved to see the room was clean. No stains or grime on the floor.

  I changed quickly, shimmying out of my jeans and top. Shivering—there seemed to be no heat in the bathroom—I unzipped the garment bag.

  The dress made me catch my breath, as it did every time I saw it. Made out of silk, the dress had a fitted corset bodice, with boning down the sides. The neckline was scalloped, low but not immoderately so, and the torso was beaded with clear crystals and sapphires. Embroidery embellished the material, as well as lace—both tone on tone in an icy periwinkle blue. The skirt swept out w
ith a trumpet flare to gather at my feet, while sheer panels of tulle draped from the sides to gather in front, creating a cascading tiered overskirt. Thin spaghetti straps were actually strings of beads—faceted iolite.

  Originally, the back had been laced, but when the 1950s hit, I had consulted an expensive seamstress well known for her skill. She carefully altered the dress to include a side zipper, so I could leave it permanently laced in back, yet easily get in and out of the dress without help.

  Once I had it on, I gently draped a white fur cloak around my shoulders. I would never show the cloak to my Were friends—that was asking for trouble—but the Fae had no such qualms. It was thick, lush, and hooded, soft mink. I fastened it in front with a Celtic knotwork brooch and was ready to go.

  Marsh stared at me, open-mouthed, as I tossed my duffel bag of regular clothes into the backseat.

  I gave him a long look. “You don’t have to say a word. I love this dress, but I look like I’m going to a period costume ball. Right?”

  “I…I just was going to say you look more beautiful than I’ve ever seen before. It suits you. Really.”

  I smiled a thank-you. Ten minutes later, we reached the front of Wynter’s court.

  The compound was huge, covering two thousand acres, and smack in the center of the wintry realm sat the palace. Wynter managed to keep every inch of her home trapped in eternal winter, and as I drove up to the gates, I could see a massive amount of ice and snow beyond the magical barrier.

  “You need to vanish for the moment, Marsh, or they won’t let you in. Don’t show yourself to anyone while we’re here.”

  I opened my window at the gate and flashed my badge to the guard, identifying myself as a member of the court. No one was allowed inside without either a badge or an invitation. Marsh had disappeared, but the guard lingered on his side of the car, staring at the front seat with a long look. After a moment, he motioned for the gates to open. As I eased the car through toward the parking lot—no cars were allowed beyond the outer grounds—the temperature dropped a good forty degrees. My cloak was the only thing between me and shivering.

  “Is your cloak warm enough?” Marsh’s voice echoed from the seat even though I couldn’t see him.

  “Yes, actually. I also have a secondary coat in the trunk in case I need it. I keep one handy because of rainstorms. It’s just smart to be prepared.”

  “How did you come to belong to her realm?”

  “I was born to it,” I said.

  And it was true. All Fae, upon birth, were assigned a court, usually by lineage.

  Succubi, incubi, and a number of the more predatory Fae belonged to Wynter. Our lighter cousins were no less dangerous, but on the outside they didn’t appear quite as threatening. The humans who made the mistake of thinking so all too often discovered their mistake in fatal ways.

  The kelpies, for example. Kelpies belonged to Summerlyn’s court, but were just as dangerous as I was. They just tended to congregate in warmer areas. While the sirens belonged to summer’s domain, the undines belonged to winter. It was a complicated division, but there was some reasoning to it, even if it didn’t appear so on the surface.

  As I eased into one of the parking spots, I noticed there were few other cars there. Wynter had a limo, but that was—of course—near the palace, brought in through one of the back access roads that was off limits to the general public.

  I turned off the ignition and the soft quiet of the compound hit me. Wynter’s palace was muffled from the outer world, not just by the magical portal that spanned the gates, but the silence brought about by the blanket of snow and frost that clung to every corner.

  Once per month, regardless of the season, Wynter opened part of her grounds to families from all races whose children wanted to play in the snow. Like a theme park, it was an extension of goodwill from the Fae to the rest of society. The Weres threw county fairs and rodeos, and the humans staged parades and galas, all three cultures doing their best to honor the treaties.

  I glanced over to the passenger seat. “Are you still here, Marsh?”

  “I’m here. I thought it prudent to stay out of sight, given your suggestion.” Marsh hesitated. I could hear a pending question in his voice. “I never fully realized you belonged to the Fae when we were together. You told me, I know, but you slipped it in so carefully that I never felt comfortable asking you about it. Why didn’t you tell me about all of this? You told me you were a succubus, but I don’t think I ever fully understood what that meant.”

  “I didn’t dare. We weren’t out in the open back then. We couldn’t expose ourselves, even to the ones we loved, unless we were absolutely certain that it was safe to do so. There was too much danger of backlash and paranoia.”

  I dropped my keys in my purse and steeled myself for what was no doubt going to be an unpleasant visit. Wynter’s palace was beautiful. Wynter’s land was lovely. Wynter herself was gorgeous…and cold as ice.

  “I’m heading to the palace. You can either come with me, or stay here.”

  “I’ll stay here. If I follow and they catch me, I don’t want any fallout on you.”

  I nodded, my mind already running ahead to what I would tell Wynter and how I might be able to ask for her help. I slid out of the car and locked it, grateful for the heavy cloak. Fur worked to keep out the chill, and was standard in the court. I had changed into a pair of white walking boots that didn’t clash with my dress, so I was ready to go. Ready, and with no more excuses, I slung my purse over my shoulder and headed out to the path that led to the palace.

  The snow drifted down in a lazy fashion, brushing my hair, my nose, my eyelashes with big, fat, puffy flakes. The walkways were thick with chunky ice, covered with a thin layer of snow. They were slick, but navigable if one was careful. My dress dragged a little, but I paid no attention. The silk was strong, and the snow wouldn’t hurt it. The banks to either side were high—three feet in some places. Here and there, various members of the court wandered by, some heads down, intent on their walk, while others strolled by in a leisurely fashion.

  Humans still didn’t understand us very well. Stories and legends had pegged us generically, as if we were cattle, but not all succubi were the same, and not all of the sirens were alike, nor the dryads. We were as unique and individual as humans, and it had taken some time to get that through society’s head.

  The Fae, in general, were powerful, but nobody outside of the Fae Nation really understood that to us, Summerlyn and Wynter might as well be goddesses. They were the heart and soul of our people, commanding the seasons and the years.

  As I trudged toward the compound’s center, I could see the palace looming in the distance. A tall cathedral of what looked like blue crystal, it was spectacular, even from where I stood.

  My breath came in little puffs as I realized that I was more out of shape than I had thought. That and my run-in with Shayla were enough to convince me that maybe a little time in the gym wouldn’t hurt matters any.

  Finally, the gates surrounding the palace came into view. It was impossible to tell merely from looking whether the walls were crystal or ice. I knew from experience that it was the latter, frozen into shape by Wynter’s will. Behind the gates, the palace soared five stories high, with minarets spiraling into the sky. Frozen spires, they looked so delicate that any wind might bring them crashing down, but they had withstood intense storms. Like many of the Fae, the minarets were far more resilient than anybody would guess. I had no idea how far beneath the ground the chambers and tunnels led.

  Guards lined the frozen turrets, stationed every five yards. They stood as still as pillars of ice, looking neither left nor right, but straight ahead. Every other guard was armed with a bow and arrow, and the rest carried large silver swords. The colors of Wynter were everywhere—from the dark navy uniforms of the guards, to the stark white and silver flags flying from the spires over the palace. Windows gleamed from within with pale light, and against the snow, it looked truly like some faerie-tale cas
tle.

  As I gazed at the open gate leading into the palace, manned by still more guards, it occurred to me that I spent so much time with the Weres and humans that sometimes, I lost track of my own lineage. And that wasn’t a good thing for anybody. It kept me from remembering where my allegiance lay. Because I wasn’t a nomad and I wasn’t an outcast. I was a citizen here, a member of the court.

  Swallowing my fear, along with my pride—because stepping in front of Wynter was guaranteed to bring even the most resilient Fae to her knees—I stepped into line. As the guards checked my badge and motioned me through, I entered the land of eternal winter.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Three more stops and two hours later, the guards showed me through. Wynter had agreed to grant me an audience, especially after I had stressed it was an emergency.

  The guard to my left looked me up and down. “At least you dressed for court. We have so many now coming here who don’t bother with proper attire. It’s an insult, that’s what it is.”

  The guard to my left gave him an abrupt nod. “That it is. And the queen isn’t brooking insults. Come, we’ll take you to the waiting chamber.”

  I didn’t bother to tell them that I had considered leaving my court gown at home. But when you got down to it, I was a traditionalist in that sense. Honor given where due, and Wynter was due my fealty.

  The guards escorted me through the bustling courtyard. The courtiers were out in style, dressed in brilliant, outlandish gowns, their hair flowing wild and entwined with snowberry blossoms and holly vines. They were so decked out that I looked positively sedate.

  I wasn’t noble born, but my mother had been involved in court life, and I had been presented to Wynter when I was barely able to understand what was going on. Having actually been shown at the court proved to be a double-edged sword. It meant I had some standing with Wynter, and I could petition for an audience and carry a badge, meaning I wasn’t one of the nameless thousands. But it also meant that should Wynter choose to give me direct orders, I was expected to obey without question.