Page 15 of Sharpen Your Claws

The growing crowd scrutinized their king, daring him to defy Richard’s request. King Ellis’ smile didn’t reach his eyes. He didn’t openly rage, but one could taste the frustration in the air, as if it poured from the king’s frozen heart.

“Thank you for bringing these troubling matters to my attention. Tell me what you need and I will see what I can do,” the king replied.

“There needs to be regular surveillance in the outer banks and a team to search into the disappearances. If His Majesty knows of another healer to tend to the clinic, I would appreciate it, so I could have more time to look into things myself as well,” William said, hoping he hadn’t pushed too far.

Richard assured him the king would be more lenient than usual, but after all he had done to so many men, William couldn’t fathom the king knowing what the word lenient meant, let alone practiced it.

“So be it. I will look into dealing with these matters, but for now, please, enjoy the rest of your evening.” King Ellis returned the findings and vanished into the crowd.

William didn’t speak until the king was long out of earshot. “Do you believe he meant what he said?”

“Some of it,” Richard replied. “He’s likely to up surveillance, at least for a week or two, and find you a more permanent doctor, but I doubt he will dedicate a team to look into the disappearances.”

“We’ll make do with what we are given. Thank you, Richard,” Charmaine said.

“Don’t thank me. I wish I could do more, and perhaps I might.” Richard cast a smile over his shoulder. “I’ll see to getting more donations. The two of you should head home.”

“I am more than happy to.” William nodded at Charmaine. “I’ll summon the carriage. Grab a few snacks for your mother. She’ll like a late night treat.”

“Thanks for reminding me. She’d have my head if I returned home without any.” Charmaine pushed through the crowd in search of said treats.

Frowning, Robert kept his eyes on the ground. “I’m sorry either of you had to come.”

He waited as if he genuinely believed Robert would look at him. It never happened.

“Don’t apologize for what isn’t your fault. I’ll have the carriage sent back for you.” He went for the exit, hesitating outside the doors to peer down the hall where the lounge door hung open. He felt Nicholas’ presence like a lost soul lingering between light and dark, but the fae remained out of sight. He knew that wouldn’t last long.

6

Nicholas

Themirrorreflectedastranger, a fae wearing a cruel smile and amethyst eyes, incapable of focus. When Nicholas touched his cheek, the reflection did the same. The smile fell, replaced by a peculiar twitch beneath his skin.

He grasped the edges of the porcelain sink. His eyes flickered pink, as if something sought to breach the surface. Bright fuchsia. That should be their color, but they weren’t, and he was suddenly frightened, incapable of taking a solid breath. He touched the glass. An ache formed in his temple. His thoughts muddled like a vicious swarm of wasps protecting their nest. Then he slammed his fist against the mirror. Shattered shards fell to the floor.

In their broken pieces, he glimpsed the pink light fade, overcome by violet. His nerves calmed, breathing steady and smiling wide. He couldn’t remember what bothered him, why he could care about the color of his eyes, or why he would panic. Everything about him was perfect, better than ever before.

“What a mess,” he said, picking shards from his bloodied knuckles.

Stepping out of the bathroom, he snatched his clothes and approached the castle window.

The rooms at King Ellis’ castle were better than the tent he slept in for years. Depictions of birds decorated the walls, their silhouettes a darker shade than the maroon background. An empty bottle of faerie wine laid on the nightstand. A bed sat against the far wall, crimson sheets ruffled from his restless sleep.

All he dreamed about was William and the dance shared, especially after the party. While others drank and danced, he lingered in the shadows, avoiding conversation because no topic caught his thoughts like William.

He let William leave the other night because he looked distraught. Even Nicholas understood how troubling it had to be for William and Charmaine to attend the event. The war was rough on them, and the kings were uncaring. He had the occasional urge to break their fingers and toes, to watch the kings scramble across the dancefloor in fear like many of the soldiers had to. To seek revenge on William’s behalf, show the kings what true terror was, and hopefully receive a reward. William’s smile, his thanks, his laughter, even the briefest brush of his fingertips along Nicholas’ cheek would be more than enough. He merely wanted William’s attention.

He threw open the window, intending to seek that very attention. Mortal cities reeked of sewer and coal. Smog rose from factories along the horizon, coating the sky gray. The sight reminded him of the Deadlands. Gated yards circled the castle like the sight of old homes and busy work streets were too offensive to be so near. They lived in the castle’s shadow, believing they could reap from its power in closeness alone. Far, far in the distant stood trees, isolated and abandoned, struggling to rise higher than the smothering fog of humanity. He couldn’t fathom why mortals yearned to live in their brick houses, enclosed by a putrid stench, when beautiful woods were so near.

“Where are you off to now?” Laurent asked.

His entrance had been silent. His silhouette appeared too tall for the room, like he couldn’t have possibly fit through the door. For all Nicholas knew, his father simply materialized. It wouldn’t surprise him if Laurent could do so.

“To see William, where else?” he replied.

A chill seeped from Laurent. After all he did, nothing kept Nicholas from William. Searching for the surviving shadowed disciples and the scars Fearworn opened preoccupied him, but that did not mean he hadn’t checked on William. With the war over, more fae crossed from Faerie to Terra. There were deals to make and lands to explore. Nicholas may not have been home long, but he heard of all the trouble his kin caused. Mortals flocked to Faerie in the shadows, refusing to admit how intrigued and greedy they were. While they spat or cursed at any who brokered deals with fae, behind everyone’s back, they eagerly did the same. To take a chance and ask for gold, glory, and admiration, as Laurent hoped. That meant there were more than enough fae in Terra who could check on William in his stead.

Mortals were foolish enough to believe making deals with any of Darkmoon would render them superior, safer than their peers. Once, he would be among his kin seeking havoc, but he hadn’t thought of striking a deal in years. Evera was right in that regard. He thought little of anything other than William.

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