Page 25 of Cruelest Kiss and Fairest Blood
A doe and fawn step into the clearing. “Oh, there’s Miriam and Zinnia.” Birth is challenging in the animal world. They have no doctors to intervene when things go wrong. I followed Miriam’s cries and got to her just as the light left her sorrowful eyes. I was able to bring both her, and her stillborn fawn, Zinnia, back. Seeing them together brings me such joy.
“Floppy, the carrot thief.” The massive russet rabbit bounds our way. He took one too many carrots from a local farmer and ended up on the wrong end of a rifle. He was being offered to our cook when I spotted him, barely clinging to his soul. My need for a midnight snack served me well that night. Otherwise, I would have been tucked in bed instead of seeking something sweet. I snatched him up, rushed from the kitchens, and brought him back.
“And little Sweetpea.” The curious fox took an unforgiving bite of a rat who had recently ingested a hunk of poison-laced cheese. I loathe the inhumane traps that sit in the darkened corners of the castle. She suffered for hours before I found her, collapsed, at the edge of the forest.
The last of the current group of onlooking animals is one of my favorites. The tiny brown creature rushes up to me, rooting beneath the edge of my skirt where he loves to hide and play. He was doomed to end up a scarf on the fat neck of some pompous earl’s wife. I hate to see real fur used in fashion. Animals are living, breathing creatures, not accessories.
“Lastly, we have Beazel the Weasel.”
“Beazel the Weasel? What a horrid name.” Harrow grimaces.
My mouth pops open at the judgy remark. “And what would you choose to call a northern brown weasel?”
Harrow’s lips purse in concentration. “Furry Sausage Rat.”
A bark of laughter slips out, startling several of the nearby animals. “Oh, sorry,” I apologize, lowering myself to settle onto the ground. “That is a vile name.”
Harrow grins. “Perhaps the animals keep away from me for a good reason.”
“Fear of being named something horrendous?” I smile back.
Harrow peers down at me, sending a flush rushing up my neck. I avert my gaze, choosing to give Sweetpea a scratch behind the ear. Harrow joins me on the ground, stretching his legs out and propping himself on his elbows. He looks so casual, so normal from this angle. Head-on, it becomes evident he’s something that does not belong here. His face is remarkably lovely. All hard lines and icy beauty. Those liquid silver eyes are both angelic and damning all at once.
“How many have you brought back?” Harrow extends a cautious hand toward Miriam. The gentle doe takes a step back, but her fawn steps forward, giving Harrow a curious sniff before retreating to the safety of her mother’s legs.
“Not as many as I wish. A few dozen, maybe more.”
“A few dozen? And you’re being hard on yourself?” He shakes his head, causing a pale blond strand to fall across his eyes. With his hair in his face, he has an almost boyish charm to him.“That’s remarkable. You’ve managed to keep an entire silver garden full of creatures out of my domain. I doubt they’ll ever cross over now. Too bad. Animals quite enjoy the gardens of the Underworld.”
“Your domain. Right.The Underworld.” I rethink what he said. “The Underworld is filled with gardens?” The question sounds mad leaving my lips.
“You were picturing fire and brimstone?” he asks, cocking an eyebrow.
“Well, yes. Fire and torture and smoke. The usual.”
“There’s bit of that too.” He smirks.
“You’rereallyRuler of the Underworld?”
“I’mreallyRuler of the Underworld.”
I chew on my lip, thinking it over for the thousandth time. “Can you prove it?”
Chapter 10
Harrow
“Are you asking me to steal someone’s soul on the spot? Wow, Roseheart, your appetite for death has grown.” My grin widens when she flushes.
“No, I am not asking you to kill someone.” She stops, peering back up. “Do you kill people? You said something about not being able to take life out of order.”
“I did say that. I can kill, but I usually only do so when the natural order has been violated by another.”
She purses her lips as more questions form. “How would they do that?”
“Magic, life-prolonging spells, those sorts of things. You’d be surprised how many try to cheat death.”
Lenore plucks at the blades of grass. “So, you can’t prove it without killing someone?”
