Fields of Blood (The DeathSpeaker Codex Book 2) Read online

  “There have?” I said, mildly stunned. “Any of them still around?”

  He shook his head. “The last DeathSpeaker has been gone for a century or more, and the previous at least as long before him. Only those who’ve known them still live,” he said, staring grimly out the window. “And to reach them, we must travel to Arcadia.”

  The sound of that word stirred my blood, every time I heard it. “The Fae realm?” I said. “You want me to go to Arcadia.”

  “You cannot go alone. The Unseelie territory is a deadly place, even to those who belong there. And you’ll likely need to pass through Seelie lands, perhaps the Autumn Highlands as well. Then there are the Mists and the Eternal Springs to contend with. You’d not survive an hour, brother.” His faint smile faded. “I’ll have to accompany you…I’ll have to return home.”

  His voice caught on the last word, and I could feel the pain in it. “Maybe there’s another way,” I said. “Couldn’t one of them come here, or something?”

  “Not likely. Few Fae enjoy being in the human realm,” he said. “Most here have been banished, for one reason or another.”

  “Except you,” I said.

  “Aye, but I may has well have been. The Winter Court will not look favorably on my return.” He let out a shuddering breath. “We’ve no choice. We will go, and soon,” he said. “On a more personal note, perhaps you’d care to explain your tattoos?”

  For a few seconds I didn’t know what he was talking about. Then I remembered the soldiers in the arena, muttering about the freaky glowing tattoos on my back. I’d forgotten that little event had been televised—and Taeral had to watch it. “I’d love to explain it,” I said. “But I had no idea they did that. Never saw my back in the moonlight before.”

  “I’m not certain the moonlight caused them to glow,” he said. “Where did you have them done?”

  “It was years ago, when I was starting college,” I said. “This weird place in Midtown called The Grotto.”

  Taeral drew a quick breath at the name.

  I raised an eyebrow. “You know it?”

  “I’ve heard…rumors,” he said carefully.

  “Um. What kind of rumors?”

  “That The Grotto is a haven for banished Fae.” He drummed his fingers on his leg. “And the owner is a bastard Seelie prince.”

  “Cobalt?” I remembered the owner. Nice guy, strange name. He’d actually done my tattoos himself—he took pity on the dumb college kid when I managed to explain that I wanted to cover the scars, and did them all for free. I probably should’ve questioned that a little more than I had. “He didn’t seem like a bastard,” I said.

  Taeral gave a slanted smile. “Bastard, as in his father and mother were not wed. Something of a scandal, and very hushed among the Summer Court,” he said. “If he’s given you those tattoos, I believe we should pay…Cobalt a visit.”

  “Yeah.” Now I really wanted to know what he’d done to me, because they definitely weren’t normal. I made a mental note to never accept free tattoos again. “I guess The Grotto is on the to-do list, then.”

  But the first thing I wanted to check off that list was getting home.

  CHAPTER 46

  The Castle showed no signs of gunfights, bombs, or otherwise fiery destruction. So that was a good thing.

  It also seemed extremely quiet. I wasn’t sure how good that was.

  I parked the newly remodeled van out front. Sadie, who’d been asleep most of the way, stirred and sat up fast. “We home?” she said.

  “Yes, we are.”

  “Good. I’m going to sleep in my bed.” She yawned and stretched her arms over her head. “Wake me up next week sometime.”

  I suspected that about covered it for all of us.

  We climbed out, and Taeral took the lead to the door. I knew he’d been worried about Daoin, even though he said he wasn’t. The three days we’d been gone felt like a lifetime. A lot could’ve happened here.

  Most of it probably happened to Reun. I was sure Denei, at least, had come up with some new and painful activities while Taeral wasn’t here to threaten her.

  Grygg was in the same place, wearing the same expression. But he actually turned his head when we came in—and almost smiled. “Welcome back,” he rumbled.

  “Thanks.” I returned the smile. For him, that was practically a keynote speech.

  Faint voices came from the parlor, so I assumed we were headed there first. About halfway across the lobby, Sadie caught up with Taeral and touched his arm. He stopped. “Hey,” she said. “Are you going to be all right if I go to sleep now? I’m so beat, I’m not sure I’ll even make it all the way back to my room.”

  A sneer started to form on his lips, and I almost knew what he was thinking—that he didn’t need her help. But he made it disappear and gentled his expression. “Of course, a’ghreal,” he said. “Go and rest.”

  I kind of had to admire him, now that I knew firsthand how hard it was for him to do that. To not give in to that instinctive, cold superiority.

  “Thanks.” She smiled, and her hand lingered on him a little too long. “You know where I’ll be, if you want to talk later.”

  “Aye,” he said.

  Okay, so maybe I was still a little jealous, too.

  She broke away and sent me a casual wave. “Goodnight, Gideon.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “See you next week.”

  She laughed as she headed for the stairs.

  “Not a word,” Taeral murmured when she was out of earshot.

  “Wouldn’t dream of mentioning it.”

  “Good.”

  We kept going toward the parlor. The voices got louder, but I didn’t recognize any of them. Then I started to hear other sounds. Screeching brakes, gunfire. And…dramatic background music.

  I also could’ve sworn I smelled popcorn.

  We went in to find that things had been rearranged.

  The tables and chairs were pushed up to the front half of the room. At the back was a big-screen television with a DVD player and a stack of movies, and two couches in front of it. Reun and Denei sat on one, with Daoin and Zoba on the other.

  They were watching Die Hard. The first one.

  “Interesting,” Taeral said loudly.

  Reun flinched and stood quickly, turning to look over the back of the couch. Behind him, the image on the screen showed Bruce Willis holding a machine gun and staring wildly through a broken skyscraper window. “Welcome to the party, pal,” drifted from the TV, just before the image froze as someone pushed pause.

  Appropriate.

  “Taeral,” Reun said, more than a little flustered. “You’re back.”

  “Oh, you’ve noticed. How observant.”

  “We were just…”

  “Relax, Unseelie.” Denei rose and turned, standing next to Reun. “You know there ain’t much to do in this place, and we can’t exactly get cable installed.”

  “I was not concerned about the television,” Taeral said flatly.

  Just then, Daoin stood and walked around the couch, wearing a cheerful smile. “My son. You’re back,” he said to Taeral. “I don’t remember movies, but I must have liked them. Didn’t I?”

  “Aye, Father. I suppose you did.” His smile turned brittle as he regarded Reun and Denei. “Am I to assume this is your idea of untold pain and suffering, swamp child?”

  Denei flapped a hand at him. “We did the pain thing,” she said, and her smile took on a wicked slant. “Tell the truth, I’m pretty sure he liked it.”

  Reun coughed and looked distinctly uncomfortable. “I’ve held to my promise,” he said. “Miss Duchene and I have…come to an understanding.”

  “Oh, yeah. We understand each other real well, now.”

  “But no harm has come to Lord Daoin,” Reun rushed out, shooting a glance at her.

  Damn. All this happened in three days? I guessed Denei moved fast when she really wanted something—but I sure as hell couldn’t imagine why she decided to want Reun.
r />   “I hope you had a good time with your friend, Taeral. That’s what a father would say.” Daion smiled like he was proud of himself, and then looked at me. “Gideon. I know you,” he said, and his smile caught slightly as he moved toward me. “You are…my son. Like Taeral.”

  I blinked rapidly and shot an apprehensive glance at Taeral. I had no idea what to say. The last time he brought this up, he’d broken down and retreated into his terrified shell for days. But he seemed lucid now.

  “Aren’t you my son?” Daoin said.

  From the corner of my eye, I caught Taeral’s faint, cautious nod. I swallowed hard, and rasped, “Yes. I’m Taeral’s brother…your son.”

  Daoin beamed. “They told me you were dead, but they lied. You’re not dead,” he said. “And now I have two sons. Two great sons, who can watch this movie with me. This Die Hard. There is also one called Die Harder.”

  As he shuffled back to the couch, I leaned my head back and found something interesting on the ceiling until I could breathe again.

  “What’s happened to him?” Taeral said hoarsely to no one in particular.

  Reun moved around the other couch with caution, like he expected Taeral to attack him any seconds. “Daoin still retains his memories,” he said. “I’ve probed his mind—”

  “You did what?” Taeral roared.

  “I had to. He…reacted badly, the first time he truly realized you were gone. He thought they’d captured you—and he was determined to rescue you.”

  “Fine,” Taeral said tightly. “You may as well tell me what you’ve found, then.”

  Reun drew a deep breath. “His memories are locked away with powerful magic. He appears to have done it himself, as some kind of defense mechanism,” he said. “I’ve not the ability to break the seal, but I managed to recover a very small fraction of the memories that please him most. Those of his sons.”

  “I suppose I’m to thank you for that,” Taeral muttered.

  “No. The debt I owe you, and your father, is far greater than a few small memories.” Reun’s jaw clenched briefly. “I believe he can be restored, made whole again,” he said. “But not here…”

  “Of course,” Taeral breathed. “He must be taken to Arcadia.”

  “Yes. The greater magic there may enable him to break the seal himself.”

  Taeral fell silent for a long moment. Finally, he glared at Reun and said, “You will continue to keep your promise, and serve my father until we’re ready to depart for Arcadia. Is that understood?”

  Reun smiled. “I desire nothing less.”

  “Fine. You’ll stay here, then.” His shoulders slumped, and he looked at me. “I suppose we are watching Die Hard.”

  I grinned. “Great. Who’s got the popcorn?”

  From the couch, Zoba held up a big plastic bowl. Then he flourished the remote and made a noise that sounded like get your ass over here, or I’m starting the movie without you.

  So I got my ass over there.

  It was good to be home.

  Thanks for reading!

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  About the Author

  Sonya Bateman lives in “scenic” Central New York, with its two glorious seasons: winter and road construction. She is the author of the Gavyn Donatti urban fantasy series (Master of None / Master and Apprentice) from Simon & Schuster. Under the pseudonym S.W. Vaughn, she’s the author of the Skin Deep paranormal M/M erotic romance series (Loose Id) and the House Phoenix thriller series.

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  Table of Contents

  SONYA BATEMAN

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  CHAPTER 19

  CHAPTER 20

  CHAPTER 21

  CHAPTER 22

  CHAPTER 23

  CHAPTER 24

  CHAPTER 25

  CHAPTER 26

  CHAPTER 27

  CHAPTER 28

  CHAPTER 29

  CHAPTER 30

  CHAPTER 31

  CHAPTER 32

  CHAPTER 33

  CHAPTER 34

  CHAPTER 35

  CHAPTER 36

  CHAPTER 37

  CHAPTER 38

  CHAPTER 39

  CHAPTER 40

  CHAPTER 41

  CHAPTER 42

  CHAPTER 43

  CHAPTER 44

  CHAPTER 45

  CHAPTER 46

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