Fey Regency (Fey Lords #3)

19. Chapter 19

Chapter nineteen

“ I ’m not stepping into a void!” I yell.

“It is not a void,” says Tristan. “It is a portal.”

“I don’t care what it is called, I’m not going near it!”

My arms are crossed over my chest and I’m sounding rather shrill, but I couldn’t care less. There is a swirling dark abomination of defied gravity and time, in the middle of Tristan’s sitting room, and there is no way in hell that I am stepping into it. It looks like a Black Hole or a doorway to Hell. Nothing good could possibly come from going anywhere near it.

“It is so much quicker than travelling by carriage,” Tristan says.

“What part of, I don’t care , do you not understand?” I spit through gritted teeth.

Tristan sighs and steps towards me. This motherfucker is going to try to grab hold of me and drag me into the void. No fucking way. I aim a punch towards his face, but he catches my wrist easily and keeps hold of it.

I glare up at him in furious outrage. He smirks down at me.

“Are we fighting or flirting? I get confused,” he says sweetly.

I growl and try to launch myself at him, but he uses his hold on my wrist to lock my arm into place and keep me away from his body. Then he steps towards me. Bastard. Quickly, I step back. We perform our dance until my back hits the wall.

Suddenly, his free hand is in my hair and I’m utterly immobile. I growl at him as he forces my head up. His red eyes gleam as his head lowers towards me.

Oh no. No. No. No.

“Don’t you dare fucking kiss…Mmpgh!”

His lips attach to mine and I can no longer talk. I can no longer think. Can no longer do anything. I am not sure if I am even breathing. Tristan’s lips are soft and warm. They are pressing against my lips insistently. Taking control of my mouth. Filling me with warm golden pleasure. Possessing me. Setting me a blaze with passion.

His lips leave me and with a soft whimper I chase his touch, but he is so damn tall I can’t reach him. He pulls me forward and I stagger. Then I fall. Through darkness and time and all of existence. I open my mouth to let out my scream, and then suddenly it is all over. It’s daylight again and I’m in a large, empty ballroom. Even though it is as fancy as hell, it is not Buckingham Palace. We are somewhere else.

I collapse to my knees and then fall forward onto my hands. I’m gasping and dry heaving and my head is spinning like I’ve been on the Waltzers for hours.

“See! It wasn’t that bad!” exclaims Tristan brightly.

Motherfucker! I’m going to kill him. Just as soon as I can stand. And see straight.

“What an unexpected honour, Your Highness,” says a gentle voice .

My head snaps up. I hadn’t realised that we were not alone.

The person staring back at me blinks. It is a human. He is cute and short. And wearing a pretty yellow dress that is partially covered by a white apron. His brown hair is up in two pigtails. He also has a large feather duster in his hand. I think we interrupted him in the middle of doing his chores.

“Luci!” bellows Tristan far too loudly as he yanks me to my feet. “This is my pet, Ollie. He is a vessel like you. You can tell him all about it while I talk to your husband.”

Then, without another word, Tristan strolls away, out of the ballroom. With complete and utter nonchalance. He may as well have done it with his hands in his pockets whilst whistling.

Asshole. Leaving me here with this stranger. I flick my gaze back to the unknown person. He stares back at me for a moment and then seems to rouse himself. He hurriedly wipes his hand on his apron and then steps forward and holds it out.

“Count Consort Felford, Lucien Colville. It is a pleasure to meet you.”

I have no idea what is happening. I’ve never been so confused or so lost in my life.

Numbly, I shake his hand. “Oleander Evans,” I mutter, since we seem to be doing introductions.

“Let’s have tea,” says my unexpected host.

A short while later, I’m sitting in a sunny room, at a table set with a pristine white tablecloth, while the stranger pours tea from a silver teapot.

“Where is Tristan?” I ask pathetically. I could really do with something familiar right now .

“In the library, with my husband, Count Felford. Probably discussing magic theory.”

I take a sip of tea. Holy smokes, this is good tea. Really good tea. However, it’s not helping my complete and utter bewilderment, not even one little bit.

“Husband?” I grumble. “Why is everyone I meet, gay?”

My host narrows his eyes. “Because you are lucky?”

I blink. I don’t know what response I was expecting, but it wasn’t that. My gaze reassesses my host. They are wearing a dress and Tristan called them Luci. Oh lord. I am so out of my depth. I’ve never met anyone like this before.

“Are you a girl?” I blurt.

“No,” says Luci calmly. “I am a boy. But it was good of you to ask.”

Was it? Was it not a social faux pas? I don’t mind being rude, but I like to do it on purpose. Not by accident. Frantically, I sip some more tea.

“May I ask you a question?” says Luci.

Well, that would only be fair enough. I nod, a little too vigorously.

“Forgive me, but I’ve never met anyone who looked as fey as you do, and everyone I know is a fey descendent.”

My eyebrows lift in surprise. That’s interesting. I was under the impression that there weren’t many of us. And is Luci saying he himself is a nisny and not just a vessel? He looks fully human to me. I suppose that is why he is asking his question, he is just as confused as I am at the differences between us.

I shrug. “I’m from a tiny Welsh village. There is not much else to do and not much choice of people to do it with. ”

It is my only theory, and it seems reasonable to me. The answer is simply that I have more fey blood than he does.

Luci’s eyes grow large and pink tinges his cheeks. Oh crap. Was that vulgar? I was trying not to be. I’ve never met a posh human before and it seems their standard for polite conversation is a lot higher than I am capable of.

“You don’t sound Welsh?” says Luci, expertly steering the conversation onto safer ground.

“My family moved to England for a few years when I was a kid and the accent stuck,” I explain.

I’m not going to overshare and ramble about my teenage rebellious phase and how it worked out well because now I really don’t want to sound like I belong to a community that hates me. And I’m definitely not going to babble about Granny’s wankstain of a boyfriend being the reason we moved, because that really is irrelevant.

Luci nods as if my heavily edited explanation makes sense, and he takes another sip of his tea. Oh stars. He isn’t going to tell Tristan that I’m Welsh, is he? That would blow my eavesdropping powers.

I suck in a breath. I’m being paranoid. It is not a topic of conversation that is likely to come up. Besides, it is too late now, so there is no point in panicking.

“What do you know about being a vessel?” Luci asks.

“Zero,” I reply. It is the easiest question I have ever been asked.

Luci gives me a soft smile. “Well, that is an easy enough starting point.”

Urgh. I think I’ve been introduced to another nice person. As if Jamie isn’t bad enough. Nice people are exhausting. It is so hard trying not to be a nasty shit, and when I fail, I feel awful. Give me a fellow asshole anyday. So much simpler.

“The very basic premise is that you absorb magic from the world around you, but it is difficult for you to wield it, so you need to give it to a mage.”

“Difficult? I thought I couldn’t?”

Luci gives me a long look. “It is very complicated.”

I glare at him. Is he calling me stupid? Is that what he is doing?

Luci fiddles with his teacup. “Actually, if you have not been raised by Old Blood, perhaps it is not complicated at all. There is nothing to unlearn.”

Okay. Now I am confused. Who the fuck are the Old Blood?

“I was brought up in a world that treats vessels terribly,” says Luci. “They are considered property. Subjugated and controlled. Taught to submit, obey and serve.” Luci pauses and shakes his head. “But you don’t need to know that. The fey will not treat you that way.”

My hand goes to my collar, and I tap it. “Um…the fey have made me a pet?”

Luci winces, briefly closes his eyes, and then continues. “Ah…well…yes. The main thing you need to know is that you do not need penetration to give up your magic. Any sort of orgasm will do.”

My eyebrows rise. Now look who is being vulgar. I’m assuming Luci means the cock-in-ass kind of penetration. And I never thought that was needed in the first place? Because Tristan has emptied me just fine and we haven’t got to that sort of penetration, yet.

Oh stars, I’m just going to ignore that presumptuous, ‘yet’ that tucked itself onto the end of my thought .

“There are other ways to give your magic. But orgasms are the easiest way for your soul to surrender control.”

Well, that is fine by me. If it ain’t broke don’t fix it, as the saying goes. If Tristan wants my magic, giving me an orgasm for it, seems like a very fair exchange. There really is no need to faff around trying to figure out other ways.

“And it depends on natural ability, and it can take many years of intense study, but it is entirely possible that you could learn to wield some of your own magic.”

Wow. I was not expecting that, and now I’m intrigued. Wielding magic sounds fun, but the many years of hard study bit does not. I’m a lazy bastard at heart, so I can’t see myself putting the effort in. But who knows, one day in the future if I ever get super bored.

Luci’s head is down, and he is slowly turning his teacup around and around. He is not enjoying this conversation. I think it might have brought up bad memories.

“You were raised to believe that you needed to be subservient?” I ask as my mind digests everything he has told me. “And that you needed penetration to release your magic?”

Jesus, am I glad no one found me until Tristan did. I don’t like the sound of these Old Blood dudes at all. They seem like abusive, perverted freaks.

Luci nods. “It’s complicated, but, yes.”

Fucking hell. Poor Luci, that really sucks. I wish I was the touchy feely sort and could offer him some comfort.

“That fucking blows!” I exclaim helplessly.

Luci coughs, splutters and then giggles. “It really does,” he agrees. He meets my gaze and gives me a tentative smile.

Well fuck me sideways, I might have made a friend.