The Torn Wing (27 page)

“Larkin.” Tiki said. “I shouldn’t be surprised.”

Chapter Thirty-Six

L
arkin twirled once, sending her skirts flying about her ankles. “I always do love a party. Especially when you’re here, William.” She laid a gloved hand on Rieker’s chest and smoothed the silk lapel of his black jacket.

For a second, Tiki’s stomach surged with a jealous twist. How could Rieker resist someone so breathtaking? But she knew that was exactly what Larkin wanted her to feel.

“You haven’t answered the question,” Rieker said in a tight voice. “Why are you here? Your gambit with the stone and Donegal didn’t pay off. Frankly, I’m surprised you escaped.”

Larkin gave Rieker a shrewd look. “You don’t enter the pit of the snake unless you have an exit strategy.”

“Of course not. But surely, you’re done with us now.”

“I’m debating our next steps. We must push forward as time is of the essence.” A fan dangled from one of Larkin’s wrists and she tapped Rieker on the chest. Her eyes were as turbulent as the sea crashing to the beach. “It’s only days until Beltane and there’s already been an attempt on Leo’s life. Your queen is in danger as are both of you.” She snapped the fan open and shielded her face from all but Tiki and Rieker. “I need you alive.” Her gaze flicked over to Tiki. “Sadly, I need both of you.” Then she walked away.

“Arthur must have been right about ‘other forces’ being involved,” Rieker said under his breath. “I don’t think she’s here because of us.”

“No, she doesn’t seem to be.” Tiki watched the back of Larkin’s dark blue dress until she disappeared in the crowd of people.

“Let’s try to keep an eye on who she’s talking with tonight.”

The orchestra struck up a waltz and Rieker led Tiki into a throng of dancers. She slipped her right hand into Rieker’s much larger, gloved hand, as he rested his other hand on her tiny waist. With a slight nod, he began the dance. At first, Tiki had to concentrate and count the steps of the waltz in her head. But after a moment, she began to relax and the steps came naturally. The music soared around them, Rieker guiding her across the room.

The dance ended and Rieker twirled her to a stop. For just a second he slid his arm around her waist and pulled her close so their bodies pressed together, his cheek warm against hers. Then he stepped back and bowed, a perfect model of decorum.

“Thank you for the privilege of dancing with you, Miss Dunbar.” He grinned at her. “As light on your feet as I imagine a faerie might be.”

Tiki smiled. “Who would know better than you?”

Rieker chuckled as he lifted two drinks off the silver tray of a passing footman and proffered one to Tiki. “Let’s go mingle with the crowd and see if we can spot anyone else who seems out of the ordinary. And remember to sip that. As I recall, you have a nasty habit of choking on fine wine.”

Tiki smiled and slid one hand under Rieker’s arm as he led her through the room. It was easy to talk with people she didn’t know with Rieker by her side. He seemed to know everyone in the room. They chatted with lords, barons, dukes and duchesses, all with more titles than Tiki could track, as if they were old friends.

She could see the curiosity burning in their eyes as Rieker introduced her, but aside from a few questions about her family, which she and Rieker had practiced answering before attending tonight, their conversations were pleasant and superficial.

“WHAT DO YOU think?” Rieker asked several hours later as he pulled Tiki into a secluded corner. He cast a glance around the room, frowning. “I haven’t seen anyone beyond Larkin who looks questionable to me.”

Tiki brushed a piece of lint from the lapel of Rieker’s coat, letting her hand linger. “Only Larkin.”

“Wait here. I’m going to go ask Arthur if we can see Leo now.” Rieker strode off into the crowd and Tiki moved toward the wall to sit on an upholstered bench. It felt good to rest her feet. Though the shoes that matched her gown were beautiful and exquisitely made, they had very tiny heels on which she had to balance and the pointed ends pinched her toes. The old pair of boots she’d worn as a pickpocket had been shabby and the stitches were starting to give but at least her feet could breathe and she could run for her life, if necessary. A smile curved her lips at the thought of trying to flee in these shoes. She would be forced to run on her tiptoes. Or, better yet, she’d kick them off and run barefoot.

“You look like you’re enjoying yourself.” Larkin—in Isabelle’s glamour—slid onto the bench next to Tiki.

“Where did you come from?” Tiki asked.

“Oh, I’ve been here and there, watching the crowd.”

It irritated Tiki at how vague Larkin always chose to be. For once, Tiki wanted to get some answers. She raised her hand to shield her mouth. “What do you know of the assassin Donegal sent after the Queen?”

To her surprise, Larkin didn’t hesitate. “I know he’s here in London.” The faerie’s voice was low and serious. “I’m expecting something to happen tonight. Donegal isn’t sure who is guarding the ring now but it doesn’t really matter anymore. His plan is simple enough: decimate the royal family, leaving London in chaos simply from lack of leadership. Sooner or later he will find who guards the ring of the truce and dispose of them as well.” She gave Tiki a side-ways glance. “Then the UnSeelie king will claim another throne.”

Tiki squirmed in her seat. “There must be something that can be done.”

“Perhaps,” Larkin said. “Donegal plays a dangerous game. To raise a
liche
from the night, you have to give over part of your own body. This one was said to have already been staked when he was found. Donegal must have made a significant offering to revive him.”

Tiki cringed. “Is it true he’s eating the hearts of his victims?”

“Yes, that’s the one.” Larkin fanned herself and gazed around the room. “He could be here tonight.”

Tiki’s heart thumped against her ribs. “How is he stopped?”

“You can drive a stake through his heart, but there is only one way to guarantee he won’t return—you have to destroy the body of the
liche
so he can never be raised again.”

The whispered warning of the Dryad came back to Tiki. It was what she had said as well. She thought of the Ash stake that Sean had given her which she’d hidden in her bed chamber—just in case. That flimsy piece of tree hardly seemed enough to kill such a vicious creature.

Larkin tapped her fan against her knees. “We need a way to lure him to us. Creatures of his type often seem to have a predilection for young people.” She gave Tiki a calculating look. “We need someone to be our bait.”

Tiki scowled at the faerie. “I hope you aren’t suggesting me.”

“Actually, I wasn’t.” Larkin snapped her fan closed. “You’re too important to draw Donegal’s attention to you again.” Larkin toyed with the pendant that hung around her neck. “I was thinking of that girl who lives with you. The dark-haired one. What’s her name?”

The hair on the back of Tiki’s neck stood up. “
What?”

“Oh, look.” Larkin pointed into the crowd. “Rieker has found a friend.”

Tiki followed the line of Larkin’s finger to the dance floor. It only took a second to recognize Rieker’s tall shoulders and dark head among the swirling skirts and coattails. He was dancing with a young woman with long dark hair. She wore a gown of red velvet with an off-the-shoulder neckline that emphasized her well-endowed chest.

Tiki gasped. “Is that—”

“Yes,” Larkin said in a voice that did little to hide the pleasure she was taking in the moment. “I believe it is Pashan. You met her before, didn’t you? Though her glamour does a good job of making her look mortal, don’t you agree?” Larkin’s teeth glittered as she smiled, reminding Tiki of fangs. “I guess everybody loves a party.”

Against her will Tiki’s gaze returned to the dance floor in search of Rieker and Pashan. Though they moved in and out of the swirl of other dancers, it was easy to track Pashan’s red dress. Even from this distance it was obvious what a striking pair they made, with Rieker’s tall, dark looks and Pashan’s exotic beauty.

Rieker’s hand rested on the faerie’s hip in a familiar way and it looked to Tiki like he was smiling into her eyes, just as he did with her. Tiki fought to keep her voice even.

“How did she recognize Rieker? He was in a glamour when she met him in the Otherworld.”

“Oh that.” Larkin fluttered her fan in front of her face, as if suddenly warm, though Tiki knew the faerie rarely felt a moment of discomfiture. “I invited her here tonight. Every set of eyes is helpful right now.”

Tiki bit the corner of her lip, willing herself not to ask the question but she couldn’t stop. “But how did she recognize Rieker?”

Larkin shrugged. “I doubt she does. I pointed William out and told her to keep an eye on him. I guess she takes her job seriously.” Tiki watched as the couple twirled, both laughing at something that had been said. “Though William does seem to be enjoying himself. That’s the happiest I’ve seen him look all night.”

Chapter Thirty-Seven

W
ithout another word, Tiki pushed herself off the bench and hurried through the crowd. She didn’t know where she was going but she wasn’t going to sit there one minute longer and let Larkin fill her head with poison. It didn’t matter that Rieker was dancing with Pashan. Larkin just wanted her to think the worst.

Tiki clutched the fine silk of her skirt as she navigated the crowd, trying to cool her anger. And to suggest that Fiona be used as bait. The faerie was as heartless as she was beautiful. Tiki came to a stop in a corner of the large room, maneuvering so she was hidden behind a group of women chattering. She released the death hold she had on her skirts and took a deep breath to calm down as she tried to smooth the wrinkles away.

“Tiki?”

She turned and recognized him instantly. Slouched against a nearby wall, he was dressed in a black suit with long tails, his sun-kissed blond hair falling carelessly across his forehead above familiar blue eyes. He held a half-full glass of wine, and slowly swirled the burgundy contents as he watched her.

“Dain?”

“Or perhaps I should say Miss Dunbar?” He pushed off the wall and reached for her hand— “so nice to see you again.” He bowed and kissed her fingers, his mocking eyes locked on hers.

Tiki’s breath caught in her throat. What was he doing here? She wondered if he’d thought of her half as many times as she’d thought of him since she’d returned to London. Tonight he looked every inch the charming and handsome aristocrat—so different from the gruff and wounded Sean. “How are you?”

“Still alive, which is saying something anymore.” He straightened, releasing her hand. “And yourself? No worse the wear for your adventure?”

Tiki threaded her fingers together, trying to maintain her composure. “Fine, th—” she swallowed her words. “Yes, just fine.” There was a magnetism to him that was as compelling as the first time she’d met him, but there was also a sharp edge tonight, as if he were angry.

Dain smiled, his expression softening. “Had I not met you in London before and seen this different glamour I would never have recognized you tonight—though you are breathtaking in either form. Your gown reminds me of the hills of Ireland, though even the lady
Éríu
herself doesn’t hold a candle to the beautiful green of your eyes.”

Tiki felt like a fly caught in the snare of a spider’s web—a beautiful spider who she tried to convince herself not to trust.

“I see William found his way safely back to London, as well,” he said.

Tiki forced herself to take a step back. She needed to remember he was dangerous.

“Yes.” She fingered the dance card that hung from her wrist as she wondered if Dain recognized the similarities in his and Rieker’s features, as well. “What are you doing here?”

The faerie measured her over the rim of his glass before he took a long draught of wine. “In case you haven’t heard there’s a war going on.”

“And you felt the need for fresh air?”

His lips twisted in a half-smile. “Usually that is the case but my presence was requested tonight.” He reached out and fingered the edge of her dance card. “Actually, I wanted to see you.”