The Goodnight Kiss Read online

  “Do souls ever get trapped in the Veil? People’s souls I mean.”

  She nods. “Yes, which is why it’s dangerous to cross without a weapon like Seelenverkäufer. When you crossed with my grandson, which way did you come?”

  “Through a fairy ring.”

  She waves that off. “I mean, what was the transition in the other place? A bridge? A tunnel?”

  “A ferry.”

  “Did you see lights like multihued shooting stars?”

  When I nod she continues, “Those are the spirits of the Veil. If you’d fallen off that ferry, your soul would be consumed by those spirits, become part of the Veil.”

  An involuntary shudder courses through me. And I’d fallen asleep on the ferry, believing we were safe.

  Laufey places one long fingered hand on my shoulder, turning me back toward her tree house. “That was very brave, revealing yourself to the Hunt to save Aiden. Did you know they wouldn’t hurt you?”

  “No.” My memories of Freda had come charging back only after she had removed her helmet. I’m just lucky that Nahini had recognized me.

  “Then why leave the house?”

  I look up at her. How to explain when I barely understand it myself. “I didn’t want you to face them alone.”

  She blinks, as though I’ve said the last thing she expected. “I don’t know whether you’re terribly brave or terribly foolish.”

  “Both, according to my aunts.”

  Laufey laughs at that, and then gestures to the house. “Let’s go in. Fern will be beside herself with worry. For you see, I am also both terribly brave and terribly foolish, so you are in good company.”

  AS LAUFEY PREDICTS, Fern is atwitter, all wringing knobby knuckles and barely able to hold herself together. While Laufey explains what happened with the Hunt, I move to the table where Aiden still lies trapped by roots.

  I took care of the Hunt. They won’t be chasing after you for a bit. I tell him.

  No reply, though his head moves slightly.

  “No change, Fern?” Laufey takes up a spot on the other side of the table. With a casual gesture that speaks to deep affection, she runs her hand over his sweat dampened hair.

  “None.” Fern shakes her head sadly. “Should I try spooning some broth into him? He needs to keep up his strength.”

  Laufey catches my eye. “Let Nic feed him, if she wishes.”

  Her show of trust moves me. Funny, I never would have thought gaining the trust of someone that hadn’t liked me at all a few hours ago would feel so...satisfying. And physically caring for another? Out of the question a week ago. But Aiden has done so much for me. He brought me back from the freaking dead. Spooning a little broth into him is the least I can do. “I would, thank you.”

  Fern looks back and forth between us. “Well, how would you like to get cleaned up while the broth heats? Laufey can show you to the spare room while I get the supper on.”

  Laufey grunts and gestures for me to follow. Her steps are sure and light, belying no trace of the giantess within.

  “Why don’t you live in the castle with the others?” I ask as we ascend the spiral staircase around the tree.

  “They banished me ages ago.” Her tone is grim, and I notice her knuckles turn white where they grip the railing. Did I hit a nerve?

  Never one to give up my advantage I ask, “Why?”

  She shoots me a scathing look. “You are a curious sort.”

  I don’t bother to deny it or apologize for the probing question. “Because of your relationship with Fern?”

  She snorts. “No one cares about that. Nor did they care when Aiden’s grandsire raped me and planted a child in my womb because some mystic told him I was to be the mother of his line. Giants are much like your Unseelie Court, doing what they wish, whenever and to whomever they wish and not caring overmuch who is hurt. This will be your room.”

  Raped. She had been raped, forcibly impregnated. This creature that grew taller than trees, who’d faced down the Wild Hunt on her own. So, too had Aiden, if my dream-memories were accurate. The wolf inside him, the one that terrified Laufey and Fern, hadn’t protected him. He could turn to embers and slip through a screen but still he had been held captive, shackled somehow, and violated.

  My stomach twists. Even creatures as powerful as they aren’t completely safe.

  Laufey pushes through a tangle of swamp moss and reaches for a small stone door. It scrapes on the floor, rattling me out of the dull fog of horror. She ducks down and into the room. The door is only about five feet high and swallowing the bile that had crept up my throat, I force myself to follow. The small space beyond the door looks more like a forest glen than a room in a building. A hammock swings between two young beech trees, and cool clear water spills down over rocks into a pool large enough to bathe in. Stars twinkle overhead, the night sky visible through the lush canopy of the tree. The air is sweet and ripe with the rich scent of night blooming flowers.

  I glance down at my filth encrusted clothing. Mud and sweat stain this set, while the others smell of giant refuse. “Do you mind if I wash my clothes out in the pool?”

  “Here are some clean clothes.” Laufey reaches into nothing. One moment her arm is complete, then it vanishes at the elbow. A second later it reappears, holding a bundle of cloth. She shakes it out, revealing a long sleeved shapeless dress the color of oatmeal. The cut is simple, and I can tell the hem will hit me mid-calf. She reaches through the invisible air again, and pulls out a pair of sandals.

  I frown. “Where did that come from?”

  “My storage room.”

  “These look like they will fit me perfectly.” She couldn’t have just had them on hand.

  Laufey nods. “Beings come to me for knowledge and healing. I barter with them and they trade me goods for my services. I take whatever is offered. If it made its way to my door, it’s meant for me, even if I can’t see why yet.”

  I examine the fabric, spy the label at the neckline. “This came from my world.”

  “Almost everything here does. We have no textiles, no industry. If we want resources, they need to come from beyond the Veil.”

  At my sharp glance she elaborates. “You ever have something go missing? A spoon? A jar of peanut butter? Most likely it was a poor fey trying to feed his family. The courtiers, ones with stronger magic, like that of Seelenverkäufer can open portals into banquet halls, wedding receptions, and hotel kitchens anywhere on the globe. They can pick and choose, while the poorer subsist from whatever is within grabbing distance, through their own fairy rings and the In Between at Midnight. In ancient times, humans left offerings out for the fey, but that tradition is almost extinct. The species here have been living off humans for millennia, like remora feasting off a shark’s leftovers.” She pauses and taps her chin. “Of course, some just eat the humans, though that practice is...frowned upon.”

  “Because it’s wrong?”

  “Because it’s too easy to get caught. Better hurry and wash up. Fern will fret if the broth over boils.” Laufey pushes out through the moss, though she leaves the stone door open.

  I stare after her. Will I ever get my bearings in this mixed-up place? The water beckons and while I desperately crave some alone time to sort through all I’ve learned, I strip off my clothes instead. I haven’t bathed since the bioluminescent lake and feel as though layers of filth cling to my skin. Once naked, I retrieve my soap and shampoo from my bag. The book of Norse mythology falls out, and I set it aside, still unsure of why I brought it.

  The clear pool is an inviting lukewarm temperature and I wade in up to my hips. Lingering beneath the waterfall is tempting, but my stomach growls. My meager stash from the backpack is getting low, and there has been no sign of the food Aiden filched from the giants. Though asking for more than they’d already given galls me, I might have to beg a small meal off Laufey and Fern.

  With no towel, I use my soiled plaid shirt to wick away the water, I comb my damp hair, then braid it haphazardly
before slipping the dress on. The cloth is soft, some sort of woven knit fabric. The sensual feel is almost decadent against my bare flesh. Laufey hadn’t bothered to provide undergarments and the dress is long. After a moment’s hesitation, I decided to go al fresco rather than put the dirty items back on.

  I rinse all my own clothing in the waterfall then hang it to dry over a tree branch before heading back down the spiral stairs. Though I’ve only been gone a few minutes, the room has been transformed. Aiden, while still tied down, sleeps in a massive four poster bed before the fire. A plush armchair has been pulled up beside it and the steaming broth sits on a low table in a mug that looks like an upside-down acorn. On a piece of cloth beside it lies a rough-hewn wooden spoon.

  “Eat yours first,” Fern advises as she sets a loaf of sliced brown bread and butter down beside the mug along with a wooden knife. “You need to keep your strength up.”

  I smile in thanks, and pick up a piece of the still warm bread.

  Fern pulls up a stool beside me and produces a basket of knitting. “The broth is vegetable based, so no meat. Laufey mentioned you are vegetarian?”

  “Thank you and yes, have been all my life.”

  She chuckles, it’s a warm sound, like water bubbling over stones in a sunlit stream. “The Fates have an odd sense of irony. A man-eating wolf mated to a vegetarian.”

  “That’s how they raised me. Not that they were morally against meat,” Or killing. I take a bite of the bread. It’s warm with a crusty exterior and a soft interior. “This is very good.”

  “My own recipe.” She smiles. “My mother taught it to me and I passed it on to my own children.”

  “You have children?”

  Her expression grows sad. “Had. Two girls. They were killed in the uprising at the topside palace when—”

  She meets my gaze and the bread sticks in my throat. “The uprising when I was killed, you mean.”

  Fern nods. “They were house sprites in the topside palace, where the Unseelie Queen resides during her off seasons.”

  My appetite is gone but I force myself to sip some of the broth, knowing if I don’t eat, I’ll regret it later. “And Laufey couldn’t bring them back to life? The way I was brought back?”

  Fern shakes her head as though even the suggestion is blasphemous. “Even if it were possible, it wouldn’t really be them.”

  When I frown she says, “You of all people know what it’s like, to have a past life interfering with your present. Urges that make no sense, memories that aren’t your own. Dreams that are so vivid they drive you mad. Trapped forever stuck between who you were and who you long to be. No, they could come back, but they wouldn’t be my girls again.” She meets and holds my eyes and in her unwavering stare I see the same sort of strength as I’d witnessed in her lover. The kind that could only stem from moral conviction and absolute certainty. “Would you wish this sort of life on anyone else?”

  Revelations

  Aiden finishes my cup of broth and two more, one spoonful at a time. Though I try to communicate telepathically with him several times, it’s like looking for someone in a fogbank. Occasionally, I feel as though his mind brushes against my own, but he doesn’t respond to my voice.

  Fern sits with me the entire time, her three knuckled fingers clicking the knitting needles with superhuman speed. She finishes almost two thirds of a blue and green blanket before packing up her yarn and standing from her stool. “If you don’t need anything else, I think I’ll head to bed.”

  “Will Laufey be down again tonight?” I hadn’t seen Aiden’s grandmother since she showed me to the guest room.

  Fern shakes her head. “She’s probably fast asleep. Dropping and reestablishing her glamour always drains her.” She moves to a low chest and lifts the lid. Removes a finished afghan like the one she’d been knitting, this one in red and orange. She hands it to me with a smile. “In case you get cold.”

  “I appreciate it. Thank you.” I’ve uttered those words more since stepping foot into this house than I have in my entire existence. The odd thing is, I don’t know whether that says more about me, or my life to date.

  Alone once more with Aiden, I stare at his sleeping face and wonder how to reach him. With no one else in the room, I speak out loud.

  “The burn on my arm is almost healed.” I’d examined it while bathing and was surprised to see nothing more than some mild redness. “It doesn’t hurt at all.”

  Behind his closed lids his eyes dart back and forth. What is he dreaming about?

  “Please wake up,” I whisper silently. “The Hunt will be back in a few days and if I don’t agree to become queen again, to run their gauntlet, they are going to take you back to Brigit.”

  If what Freda and Nahini says is true, he’d been Brigit’s consort as well as my own. Again, that searing stab of rage bubbles in my veins. “What are you doing to me, Aiden? Why did you come looking for me? What is it you want?”

  No answer.

  Frustrated tears sting my eyes. I wipe roughly at them and then move to stand before the fire. Though my memories are full of holes, the thought of becoming an Unseelie Queen ties my insides in knots. My reaction to the Hunt is different. Part of me feels as though I belong with Freda and Nahini, leading the unearthly host, punishing the wicked. I’ve always been a hunter, even when it’s the prey that chases me.

  I damned Paul Anderson and those like him with my Goodnight Kiss. Perhaps I could go back, return to the mortal world and keep hunting the way I always had. Addy and Chloe will be pissed, but they’ll get over it eventually.

  But what about Sarah? My inner voice prompts. What about Aiden? Will you just abandon them to their fate?

  “There’s nothing I can do about that.” I mutter.

  “Of course, there is,” a female voice says.

  I frown, glancing around. The voice hadn’t sounded like Laufey or Fern. The notes were younger, sultrier. “Hello?”

  A hand breaks through the fire. Small and pale, delicate, with a live snake encircling the wrist. “Come with me.”

  Say what now? I kneel. “I don’t even know who you are.”

  “Hel.” The voice responds, soft and crooning. “I’ve been watching you, Nicneven.”

  No that isn’t a little bit creepy. “Hell? Isn’t that a place?”

  The snake writhes. The hand turns over, one finger curling and uncurling in a beckoning motion. “It’s both. Come with me.”

  “Why should I?”

  “Because, I can help you remember. Like the dreams I sent to help guide you.”

  I shake my head, backing away from the hand, all the hairs standing on the back of my neck. My instincts are screaming at me to run. I don’t trust this woman. “Why don’t you come talk to me here?”

  “I’m trapped in my queendom. Much like you can’t cross the Veil back to your own world without an In Between, I can’t fully cross into Underhill.”

  Her answer is far too convenient. “No thanks. I don’t want to risk getting trapped, too.”

  “You won’t be,” her voice is full of surety.

  My heart pounds. The craving for information goes deep. I yearn to know whatever this ethereal being will tell me.

  Again, the hand reaches out and I know she’s not going to say anything more until I agree to go with her.

  Swallowing, I lean down and reach for the ghostly hand. Hesitate.

  Behind me there is a thunderous roar. A crash.

  I whirl in time to see Aiden fighting his way free of the vines.

  “Quickly,” Hel prompts, her hand flailing. “Before he gets loose.”

  “Aiden won’t hurt me.” The words don’t sound at all confident. He looks mad, green eyes glowing, lips pulled back to expose his teeth. Another flash and then the man is gone. The wolf stands ready to spring.

  “Aiden,” I try, hoping to see him settle down. “It’s me. It’s Nic.”

  Saliva drips from his mouth, all his hackles stand on end. There is no recognition in hi
s gaze, it’s all animal, all predator about to strike.

  I take a step back and raise my hands to ward him off. Something wraps around my bare ankle. I glance down, see the serpent that had been coiled around Hel’s wrist now tethers me to her. She grips its tail, gives a yank. I fall to my knees and she drags me into the flames and down into the dark.

  My head cracks against a stone floor and for a moment, all I see are stars swimming in darkness. The stench is overpowering, like rotting food left out to mold. I sit up, gagging from the reek of it. The air tastes acrid, as though we’re in a musty room that hasn’t been exposed to the elements since its construction a millennium ago.

  “Forgive the deception. And the landing.”

  “Deception?” I ask, rubbing at the sore spot at the back of my head.

  “Your wolf sleeps still. An illusion to persuade you to come closer so my pet could ensnare you.”

  Then a face appears.

  Well, half a face.

  On the left, she is a pretty young woman, probably about my own age. Long dark hair like a river of night, blue eye the color of the ocean, flushed apple cheek, aristocratic nose and full red lips. The right side of her face is withered like that of a mummy, the skull visible through shriveled skin, the cartilage of the nose missing, the teeth exposed. Her body is covered by a cloak so there’s no making out her shape. I can’t tell if the disfigurement is isolated to her face or spread throughout her whole body.

  I’ve seen plenty of fresh corpses. But none of them have moved. Or spoken to me. A scream tears its way up through my throat and I scramble away from the horror.

  “Apologies.” It’s the same voice that came from the fire. That lovely hand and a skeletal one reach up to the hood on the back of her robe and tugs it forward, covering her face. “I forget that the living have such a negative reaction to my appearance.”

  “Where am I?” I glance around the space. Logs burn green on a hearth. It’s the only sign of color in the room. The rest of the chamber—it’s too large with too many columns to be called a room—is gray, monochrome. The carved columns, the long table, the stone steps and dais atop them, even the throne is the same bleak hue.