Ever After (29 page)

“You are a fool if you think you can defy me,” she spat.

“You're a fool if you think you can control me,” I countered.

With a cry of rage, she shoved me from her, surprisingly strong for such a petite woman. But the strength of the magic that blasted from her fingertips in the next instant was no surprise at all. Even with Lavender's warnings of her mother's tells before casting a spell, I only saw it coming a split second before the golden lightning bolt shot toward the center of my chest. I instinctively brought up my sword. The bolt of magic struck the blade, knocking it from my hand, and ricocheted, blasting a hole the size of a Prius in the wall.

I dove for my sword, snatching it up and rolling just in time to avoid another strike.

“Take him!” she roared, outraged at my evasion.

The guards immediately snapped to attention and came at me, unleashing hell as they did. I cursed under my breath as I defended myself, damning Mab for making me fight the very men I'd commanded. But there was no way around it. If I fell, Arabella would die. And that simply was not an option.

As I fought them off with sword and magic, I advanced toward Mab's dais, where she'd once more taken refuge, her eyes gleaming with maniacal intensity as she watched me throw off three guards who'd tried to jump me and physically take me down. As soon as they hit the ground, I dropped to one knee, driving my sword into the marble floor, sending out a blast of energy and knocking the remaining guards on their asses.

Now covered in blood and sweat, I slowly rose, turning my gaze upon Mab. “Enough of this, Mab. It's over.”

“I've called more guards,” she informed me. “They'll be here any moment.”

I said evenly, “And I'll dispatch them as I did the others.”

She lifted her chin defiantly. “You really think you can stop me?
You
, of all people . . .”

“I know I can,” I assured her, prowling forward. “And I will. For the woman I love. For my king. For all who have fallen here today.”

“I know you Unseelies of old,” she sneered. “You're nothing but the refuse of the fae world. You're not fit to lick the shite from my boots.”

“You didn't always think so,” I reminded her.

Her eyes widened in outrage at the reminder that she'd once tried to tempt me to her bed. And that I'd refused. But before she could do more than gasp at the breach of etiquette in a slave reminding his mistress that he had rejected her, a lazy drawl announced, “Allow me, my lady.”

I kept my gaze locked with Mab's, watching for the slightest hint of an impending attack. I didn't need to look at the speaker to recognize that smarmy voice. “Finally decide to come out of hiding, Reginald?”

“Let me deal with him, Mab,” Reginald continued, feigning a yawn and ignoring my comment.

Mab tilted her head to one side, regarding me with such contempt, it was staggering. “I would not put you in danger, my love.”

“Is that why you gave him cursed weapons when he came to steal Arthur's shield?” I asked. “Because you know he's not good enough—or brave enough—to face his opponent unassisted? He has to cheat? Is that it?”

“Figured out that was me at the Renaissance festival, did you?” Reginald chuckled. When I merely flicked an annoyed glance his way, he strolled toward us nonchalantly. “I admit, I was a bit surprised to see you and Arabella there. I could understand your running into the Huntsman at Guinevere's. Chalked it up to mere coincidence. But then you showed up looking for the shield, too, and I realized I'd been betrayed. Ah, well, that won't happen again, I assure you.”

“What have you done with Fabrizio?” I demanded.

“Oh, he's found a new home in a lovely mirror in an Ordinary's antique shop somewhere in Middle of Nowhere, Indiana. No more of this hopping around with Tales business, making bargains to barter for his escape.” Reginald
tsked
on a sigh. “Terribly sad, really. I can't imagine how he'll
ever
break his curse now ... But such is the price of treachery.”

“And you two would know all about that, wouldn't you?” I said.

Mab made a noise of disgust. “You of all people know what I've endured being married to the king, how many mistresses have shared his bed, the
children
I've been forced to welcome into my home.”

“You encouraged him to seek his pleasure elsewhere,” I reminded her.

Her eyes sparked with anger, but she didn't deny it. “Do with him what you will, Reginald,” she called over her shoulder. “But I expect you to discover where my husband is being kept. He and I have unfinished business.”

Reginald eyed me up and down, his arrogant grin growing. “Shall we have a rematch, Gideon?” he suggested. “See who really is the better swordsman?”

“I don't have time for your bullshit games,” I sneered. “I only came for Excalibur.”

Reginald sent an amused glance toward Mab. “Indeed? Well, you are welcome to it.” He drew the sword from its scabbard and held it out to me. But when I made a wary step forward to accept it, he snatched it out of my reach. “If you can take it from me.”

“With pleasure,” I ground out, my sword at the ready. I lunged forward, ready to pummel the bastard and take the sword, but a blast of magic shattered the marble floor, bringing me up short.

“Without magic,” Mab informed me. “If you want Excalibur, you will have to win it fairly.”

Yeah, right. I'm sure good sportsmanship was
exactly
what Reginald had in mind. . . .

“
Win
it?” I glanced between the two of them. “What are you suggesting?”

Mab waved her hand at the guards who'd just come rushing into the throne room to aid their queen, swords drawn. She batted her golden lashes innocently, sending up a fine sprinkle of fairy dust. “Why, you must reach him first.”

Reginald came to her side, positioning himself next to her throne, and smirked at me. “Come take it from me,” he taunted. “If you dare.”

I shook my head. “There has been enough bloodshed among the king's guards. Let these men live. If you want to have your little sport, I will take on Reginald right now, without my magic. I won't need it.”

Mab lifted her brows in challenge. “Indeed?”

The panicked shouts elsewhere in the mansion brought Mab's head up. From outside, the shouts continued amidst the rapid staccato of gunfire and the low rumble of a heated skirmish. She turned to one of her guards. “What is the meaning of this? I didn't give a command to any of the other guards. What the hell is going on?”

“I imagine that sound is your guards getting their asses kicked by my friends,” I informed her. “Your son-in-law and two of your stepdaughters are among them.”

An explosion shook the entire mansion, making the ground quake beneath our feet. Paint and drywall from the ceiling showered down upon us.

I grinned at the queen. “And that,” I said, “would be Merlin.”

Her face twisted in disgust; then she waved to the guards. “Go. Deal with the wizard instead. I will not have that idiot blowing up my home with me in it.”

The guards bolted immediately in response to Mab's command. A situation Reginald did not care for one bit. He sent a furious gaze Mab's way. “That wasn't the plan.”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh please, Reginald. Don't be such a simpering child,” she admonished. “Finish off the Unseelie trash and be done with it. I tire of this game.”

Reginald gaped at her. “My lady?”

“Oh for God's sake,” she said, laughing lightly. “He's just a
slave
. Have done with him already, Reginald. Your cowardice is beginning to bore me.”

“
Bore
you . . . ?” Reginald repeated, his voice thick with offense. His expression grew dark, his eyes blazing with a fury that alarmed me.

Before I even realized what was happening, he'd snatched a dagger from his belt. A cry of warning ripped from my throat too late as Reginald slashed the blade across the queen's throat, glaring down at her as blood poured from the wound. As she grasped her neck, gurgling and sputtering, her eyes wide in startled bewilderment, he turned with scornful dispassion and strode away, his steps unhurried in his arrogance.

I bolted to the dais in time to catch Mab in my arms as she tumbled from the throne. I pressed my hand to the gash across her throat, attempting to stanch the flow of blood, but her life slipped between my fingers, spilling into a crimson puddle upon the marble and spreading until it trickled down the steps. Seconds later she went still, her eyes staring sightlessly over my shoulder.

I gently laid her down upon the dais, knowing that Nate Grimm would soon be visiting to collect her soul and offer her the final care she required. I looked down at the blood on my hands, my shock turning to rage. Then my grip tightened around the hilt of my sword and I shifted, zeroing in on Reginald.

He stumbled back, falling on his ass when I emerged directly in front of him in the path leading to the garage where his car was parked. His eyes widened when he saw me standing there. Bloodied and furious, eyes blazing with rage, I must've been a terrifying sight, for he scuttled backward quickly in an attempt to get out of my reach and onto his feet. He managed it only a split second before my sword swung down at him.

He brought up Excalibur just in time to block the blow. My sword arm hummed with the vibration from contact with the fabled blade. But my surprise at the strength of the weapon vanished as vengeance took its place. I struck again and again, hammering at him with every ounce of my strength, repeatedly driving him back to the ground when he tried to regain his footing, my speed and determination making up for what my blade lacked in enchantments.

But Reginald wasn't going down so easily, his talent for self-preservation a powerful motivator. He finally managed to spin away at the last second, rolling to his feet, immediately at the ready. Then it was his turn to move in. He was skilled, graceful in spite of the weight of the sword he wielded. If I'd had any doubts that Reginald had been the masked executioner at the Renaissance festival, the way he moved, the ruthlessness with which he fought, would've removed them. But his weaknesses were laid bare within a few moves.

Shorter than I by several inches, he ducked under my arm, slamming Excalibur's hilt into my back near my kidney as he dodged behind me. I grunted, cursing the lucky blow he'd landed as I stumbled forward a step. But with a roar of rage, I spun around, switching my sword to my left hand as I turned, and knocking his blade off target before it sliced across my gut.

Reginald's brows twitched together in confusion just before I swung my right arm, my fist catching him in the jaw. Blood and teeth sprayed onto the grass. Reginald stumbled a few quick steps, using Excalibur as a crutch to keep himself upright, but the blow had cost him. His eyes were unfocused and he swung sloppily. I easily sidestepped his attack and sliced my sword across his abdomen in the same motion.

Reginald dropped to his knees with a startled gasp, Excalibur falling from his grasp to land on the grass beside him.

I slid the toe of my boot under the sword near the hilt and pitched it into the air, catching it as it flipped, the moonlight glinting off the blade. I moved to stand directly before Reginald and pointed the tip of Excalibur at his chest. “Do you yield?” I ground out.

Reginald knelt before me, panting, his intestines slipping between his fingers as he gripped his belly. “Go to hell.”

“It's over, Reginald,” I assured him. “Excalibur is mine.”

He laughed, spraying blood onto his shirt. “Take the fucking sword,” he snarled. “It won't do a damned bit of good.”

“What are you talking about?” I demanded. “It's the final relic.”

He chuckled again. “Doesn't matter.” He shook his head, blinking rapidly to clear his blurring vision. “Your little whore wasn't
fading
because she was sick. She was
cursed.
Mab cursed her because she was half-Tale. She thought they were an abomination. She cursed them all. Arabella. The king's bastards with the Ordinaries. All of them.” He tittered with maniacal glee. “Mab was the only one who could save her by lifting the curse. And I
killed
her.”

Reginald's laughter died abruptly. And as I turned to walk away I heard the dull thud of his severed head when it hit the ground.

A
s I came around the house in search of my friends, I slowly became aware of the battle that raged around me. All the guards had awakened from Merlin's sleep spell but whether still under the vestiges of Mab's spell, confused by the presence of intruders, or true traitors at heart, they still fought against Merlin and the others, filling the darkness with bursts of fairy magic that lit up the sky like fireworks. Fire blazed on the lawn, ignited by the dragon Merlin had called. Merlin's backup plan, apparently, the beast stood guard near its master, steam curling from its nostrils as it snorted, impatiently waiting for the command to attack again.

I fought my way through the melee and to Ivy first where she was huddled within a bubble of magic, arms over her head as three of the guards blasted her shield in an attempt to get at her. My instincts to protect the king's family overrode my resolve not to harm anyone, if at all possible. With a cry of fury, silver bolts flashed from my fingertips, knocking each of them from their feet as if they truly had been struck by lightning. Ivy's head came up, her shock and fear quickly morphing to relief.

“Go!” I cried, waving my arm. Instantly, she shifted, taking herself far from the fray and out of harm's way.

I quickly glanced around, searching the darkness for the others. Several of the guards already lay wounded, though I could not tell if they had already succumbed. In the distance, Nicky was locked in hand-to-hand combat with one of my finest guards, their skills evenly matched. I was hurrying toward him to intervene when a great white wolf suddenly leapt out of the darkness, tackling the guard and landing on his chest, teeth bared.
Seth.
His coat was matted with blood, but he appeared to be only slightly injured.

When I reached them, I wrapped a quick binding spell around the guard, noting the look of confusion and apology in his eyes.

“Gideon?” the burly guard muttered. “What the hell is going on?”

I traded a glance with Nicky before answering, “The queen is dead.”

“Nate should be on the way,” Seth said, rising to his feet, human once more. He laid a hand on my shoulder.

I nodded, and then let my gaze travel over the estate, my heart sickened by the devastation. The south wing of the mansion had caught fire now, the flames rising higher and higher, licking at the night sky. Several guards were emerging from the various exits, dragging their fallen comrades out with them.

Movement out of the corner of my eye drew my attention. The dragon had taken wing and was flying back to its roost. And against the backdrop of the flames, Merlin and Lily came toward us, bedraggled and exhausted, but seemingly unharmed.

“We'll need some help here,” I murmured. “These men will need medical attention.”

“Already on it,” Nicky assured me, his cell phone up to his ear. “The FMA's sending a few teams out now. They should be here soon.”

I nodded. “Thank you,” I told them softly. “Thank you all. I . . .” I didn't have the words to continue. I'd asked them to do battle alongside me, to take up arms to help me save the woman I loved, and they'd fought valiantly, asking nothing in return.

“Gideon.”

I turned at the sound of the voice behind me to see Nate standing there, a forlorn look on his face. My heart stopped beating as fear constricted my chest. “Arabella?” I gasped.

His dark brows drew together, the shadows that lingered around him growing darker. “We've found the children,” he told me, his raspy voice rougher than usual. “Arabella and your king both insisted upon going.”

“What?” I cried. “How the hell could you let either of them go anywhere? Neither of them has any business being out of bed!”

Nate held up his hands in front of his chest. “When we sent a car for Trish to bring her to the scene, the king had rallied and was in a rage, demanding to know what was going on, where his daughters were, where you were.”

Having seen the king in an imperious rage, I could only imagine the scene at Trish's house.

“When he discovered that we'd found the children,” Nate continued, “he demanded to go with Trish to the scene. Trish wasn't about to tell him he couldn't come along to liberate his own children. Gideon, this facility . . .” He took a deep, bracing breath, going visibly pale at the thought of what he'd witnessed there, and ran a hand down his face. “Fuck. I thought we were going to have to cuff Al Addin to keep him from beating the shit out of the Agency guards when we stormed the place.”

As much as the news pained me and as heartbreaking as the scene must've been, there was one Tale whose well-being Nate still hadn't divulged. “And Arabella?” I prompted. My heart, having resumed beating, was now pounding painfully in my chest. “She must be doing better if she could go with Trish and the king. Lavender's treatments are helping?”

The look on Nate's face told me the answer even before he said, “Lavender was able to give Arabella enough strength to get her to Agency headquarters to see the children, but . . .” He placed a hand on my shoulder, his brows furrowing in sorrow. “I just got a heads-up call on her, Gideon. It won't be long. Go. I'll help handle things here.”

I cast a glance at the others, but they nodded. “Go on,” Merlin said, his voice tight with emotion. “We'll be fine.”

I didn't wait another moment. I ripped open a rift and stepped through, zeroing in on Arabella. When I emerged on the other side of the temporal passage, I found myself standing in front of the Agency's headquarters. Several ambulances and FMA vehicles were parked in front of the building. FMA agents were milling about, escorting the Agency's agents to an area of the concrete steps where they were detaining them for further questioning. Those agents who were Tales working as liaisons in the Ordinaries' organization were handcuffed, their heads hanging low in shame.

And then I saw them, the children as they were being escorted from the building, their slight forms gray and nearly translucent, their muscles atrophied from their extended stay in the Agency's headquarters. They were walking skeletons, their cheeks sunken and hollow, their eyes haunted.

My king, still recovering from Mab's attack, was pale with horror as he took in the state of his offspring. “Come to me, my little darlings,” he called, opening his arms wide and drawing them all close to him. “Come, little ones.”

Even the oldest of the children, adults, allowed themselves to be led forward. They didn't know the man who called to them, but it was as if they instinctively could feel the love of their father as he drew each of them close, pressing kisses to the tops of their heads, murmuring softly to them.

I slowly came forward through the bustle as Tale paramedics encircled the king, eager to help, but he gave them a harsh look, making them take a few steps back. Then the king knelt in front of one of his children, a little girl of perhaps seven years old. He brought her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to her skin. “I bind you to me, little one. I forbid you to
fade
.” He then took the hand of the boy next to her, murmuring the same words.

The screech of tires made my head snap around toward the sound. A man with carefully coiffed blond hair emerged from the car that had come to an abrupt halt and strode angrily toward the building.

“What the hell is going on?” he demanded. “These children are the property of the Agency!”

I hadn't seen Al Addin until he burst from the crowd to grab the man by the throat and throw him up against the wall. “They are no one's
property
, you son of a bitch,” the formidable director of the FMA growled. “They are children. And thanks to your scientists, who had the good sense to release them to us, they will be returned to their families.”

“You're making a mistake by interfering, Director Addin,” the blond man warned. “You'll pay for this.”

Al shoved the guy away from him. “We'll see about that.”

I dragged my gaze away from their confrontation and continued to search the crowd for the one face I craved most. Arabella was there somewhere, I could feel her, but her signature, her essence, was growing fainter.

Then I saw Red coming down the steps, cradling a small bundle in her arms. When she saw me, she held my gaze for a moment, her sorrow and heartache twisting her emotions into a knot.

I hurried toward her, my heart beating frantically. “Where's Arabella?” I asked in a rush.

Red jerked her chin toward a pretty little fountain in a walled courtyard adjacent to the building. I hurried toward it, my heart pounding with joy when I saw Arabella sitting on the edge of the fountain. But my elation vanished when she lifted her face.

Her skin was ashen except for her cheeks, which raged with fever. Dark shadows surrounded her eyes, giving them that same sunken look I'd seen on the faces of the king's children. When she saw me, she blinked slowly as if the effort to do even that much had cost her.

I hurried to her and dropped down on my knees, laying Excalibur across her lap. “I have the sword,” I told her, gently taking her hand and placing it on the hilt. “There y'are, lass. You've the final relic now.”

“They found the children,” she murmured, her eyes unfocused.

“Aye, that they have,” I assured her, smoothing her hair. “They're with the king.”

She attempted to focus on my face, but her eyes soon clouded over again.

“You'll be fine soon, lass,” I told her, placing her other hand on the flat of the blade. “You've all yer father's relics now. All will be well again.”

She shook her head, staring over my shoulder. “I don't feel any different.”

I cupped her face, the heat of her skin sending an adrenaline-infused spike of panic through my veins. Not knowing what else to do, I scooped her into my arms and stepped over the side of the fountain. I sank down into the water with her, the chill stealing my breath, but it seemed to soothe her.

Shivering, I cupped the water in my hand and poured it over her head. “There y'are, lass,” I whispered. “There now.”

As I held her, wetting her hair to cool her fever, I remembered that day so long ago when I'd pulled her from the river and laughed with her upon the bank. I'd been so enchanted by the way her hair had clung to cheeks, how her smile had first captured my heart. Little could I have known how deep my love for her would run, how it would define me from that point forward, how no other woman could ever fill my heart the way she did.

But as I sensed her slipping from my grasp, the thought of her hanging over the falls as the waters raged around us assaulted my memory. Once more I felt powerless to stop her from falling away from me and disappearing into the mists forever.

My lips trembled as I bent and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“I'm slipping,” she told me, her voice breaking. “Don't let me fall, Gideon.”

“Hold on, lass,” I breathed, feeling as helpless at that moment as I had the day in Make Believe. “Don't let go this time. I cannot lose y'again.”

Arabella's fingers drifted slowly up my arm, then my neck until she finally found my cheek. I lifted my head just enough to peer down into her face, blinking away the tears that blurred my vision.

“Marry me,” she rasped, her dry lips cracking as she spoke the words.

I forced a smile and tried to chuckle, but it died on a stifled sob. Still, I managed to say, “I thought you'd never ask.”

Her lips curved ever so slightly, her eyes drifting shut for a moment before she dragged them open again. “I want ‘ever after,' Gideon. I always did.”

I nodded. “Then you'll have it, lass. I'll hold y'in my arms forever more.”

She dragged in a shaky breath. “And we'll live in a cottage.”

“And I'll make love to you every night,” I reminded her.

Her hand drifted from my cheek to the pendant about my neck, her fingertips caressing the symbols. I drew the necklace over my head and slipped it over hers, letting the pendant come to rest on her chest. Then I drew her up enough that I could whisper my full name in her ear. Instantly the bond took hold, making us both gasp with the intensity of the magic and love infused in the silver.

“I'm yours now,” she managed, her voice barely audible. “And you're mine.”

I kissed her, fighting back the sobs of dread as her lips grew cold. When I lifted my head, to peer down at her, her eyes were closed, her lips turning blue even as I looked on. I didn't have the king's ability to bind Arabella to me and forbid her to fade away as he had done to his children. But I'd bound her to me in love, that kind of bond the strongest of any I'd ever known. And the king's words drifted to me:
“I believe her love for you was so strong, it kept her in a . . . sort of magical limbo. And, eventually, she made her way back to you.”

I gathered her close, burying my face in her hair as her hand fell away. And I held on to her, held on to her with every ounce of my strength, praying that this time it would be enough.