A while back, I went to work on a Vampire x Fae M/M story. I have to say upfront, I haven’t written M/M in decades and only read it from time to time. Apparently Vampire/Fae is a thing, which I also haven’t read much of. Instead, I approached this story from the perspective of a historian. (Hello, that’s me. In a previous life I even earned an MA in history with a focus on Juvenile Legal History in the 1900s. Somehow that turned into me being a pop culture historian.) It was my hope to tie my beautiful vampire to the fae and to real historical events. For now, he lives here but perhaps we’ll make more.
The real event that sets the scene for this short story is The Cottingley Fairies Hoax from 1917. This event has inspired several films and other pieces as well. The horror of the vampire and the love between him and his fae are secondary to this history for me as a writer and a history nerd. However, I believe it’s still worth reading for the vampire, the fairy, and the sex.
SEX?! Yes, this piece is NSFW.
CW: Blood, Swearing, M/M open door, fade to black.
Word Count: 5,600
A treat for you, dear reader, on this Halloween:
Hunting Fairies by Sherrie A. Bakelar
I hate court. Row upon row of eyes glued to you, judging you. If you’re lucky, they’re judging you behind your back, not to your face. When they do judge you to your face, it never goes well. I’m sure others who attend court have a better experience than me. The audience, the ones who watch from the dark shadows, the ones who never stand before the elven queen, they enjoy the spectacle. The relief that washes over them as they pass judgment on others is palpable. When I go to court, it’s always against my will. My duty, not my honor. I’m the one who must stand before the queen. The guards near the doors fear me. Their hands nervously fidget with ceremonial weapons every time I make an appearance. I count myself lucky that the troll king never gives me the time of day. It’s only ever the queen who wants to see her “Wayward Sedge.” She enjoys flaunting her consorts, parading them before me, knowing I long for them.
Tonight’s spectacle was no exception. The guards, with their needle-sharp swords and ceremonial poleaxes covered in beaded sashes, rendering them useless, shifted away from me when I walked through the door. One bailiff—Indigo by name—left his eyes on me too long. I returned the stare, daring the sylph to let slip his true thoughts: disgust? jealousy? I waited. Lily-colored eyes, so rare, so beautiful at court, faltered and turned away as he redoubled his grip on the poleaxe, beaded sash be damned. I imagined the thin-lipped smile I wore held just the right amount of menace.
Joining the others gathering in the center of the hall, I awaited the Queen’s pleasure. When the elf queen turned toward us, we all bowed. Others may have meant it. I followed along with the niceties, playing my part, not wanting to give anyone another excuse to hate me. Queen Calathea peered down her nose at us, her lips painted to appear permanently pursed, deep maroon on flat white. A living alabaster doll with stars entwining her deep green tresses, she glittered as she moved. Her night-black eyes dazzled in the half-light of the court. They fell on me, and I froze. “Why, it’s our Sedge,” she greeted softly, a voice formed of dew-laden spider silk. “You smell of…graveyards.” Tittering laughter bounced around the room, following her comment. With a sigh, I knew the meeting was going to go downhill from there.
I returned to my grotto near the hour of darkest night, with dawn still a few belltower chimes away. Choosing to walk home from the fairy ring allowed me to burn through my anger and doubt, although it meant arriving home later than expected. From the outside, the grotto passed as a simple mine, closed and in disrepair, set against a wooded hillside. Those who might stumble upon it would opt for the relative safety of the first few feet inside the entrance. Beyond this moonlit opening, the cavern narrowed to a hidden keyhole tunnel. Squeezing beyond this obstruction, I followed the cave for several minutes before entering the main chamber.
Here, a wispy waterfall tumbled through a narrow crack in the ceiling. During the day, sunlight filtered in as well, lighting only a narrow section of the chamber. At the fall’s base, the water collected in a deep, rippling pool before running off and disappearing into a sink near the wall. Other than the verge of the pool and the sink, planks, carpets, and skins formed the grotto’s floor. A single wax candle burned near the entrance, welcoming me home.
“Ah, there’s My Steed.” The words drove shivers across my skin as they drifted toward me from every velvet shadow in the cave. My surreptious glance around the chamber found both the table and chairs empty. The bed, too, where it lay on the floor, far from the waterfall, was empty. I crossed the chamber slowly, a note of uncertainty bracing my heart, and stood just shy of the pool, the toes of my boots right to the verdant edge, then closed my eyes, my back to the room. “How was court?” the disembodied voice asked.
“Who said anything about court?”
Closer, stronger, the voice replied, “You smell of holly and burdock, which you only smell of when you’ve been to court.” Right behind me, he continued, “But usually it is accompanied by the bitter musk of anger. No anger today.” His words as soft in my head as satin to skin, his breath tickled across my neck a moment before he kissed me softly. A single kiss just above my shirt’s collar to let me know he accepted my invitation.
This briefest of touches drove away my tension, and I smiled, eyes still closed. “No anger today. The queen had her moment of fun, but I ignored it. You would have been proud of me.” Solid hands and strong arms wrapped slowly around my waist from behind and I opened my eyes. The arms holding me wore stiff linen in white with plain cuffs. His pale, elegant fingers nearly glowed in the light from the candle.
“I am always proud of you, My Steed,” he whispered in my ear. I shivered in response. Then I turned in his arms, smiling. Our eyes met fleetingly, but we both looked away. It had been decades since one had last accidentally ensorcerelled the other. Glamour does not build trust. Raffaele released me and turned away, giving me space—an invitation to touch him. “After she had her fun,” he prompted. He had accepted my invitation and he knew I’d accept his.
We’d been playing this game so long, it was now second nature. First one invitation, then the other. Once, when power politics had first thrown us together, the part of the sacrificial lamb meant to appease the ascendant vampire played by Wayward Sedge, the careful niceties had kept us both alive. They’d allowed us the time and space to understand each other, to turn a bad situation into first grudging respect and then love.
The dark hose Raff wore had once been fashionable, a few centuries ago. They matched the doublet he started fussing with, which hung on the back of the nearest rough-hewn chair. Over the years, we’d managed to put together other outfits for him, of course. Yet his old clothes comforted him when he was worried. I’d noticed years ago that occasionally he’d don them on evenings that followed the full moon. Evenings after I’d been called away to attend the Queen. He worried about losing me to the other fae. But returning to court meant losing him.
I crossed the room to him and cautiously encircled his waist, my own thin hands snaking beneath his arms to caress his midriff, my green skin bright against his white linen. “You’ll love it, Raff,” I said, risking a soft kiss to his neck. “Apparently humans are out running around in the woods near here trying to photograph fairies. The queen has instructed everyone to stay hidden. We wouldn’t want further proof of the fae falling into human hands.”
Clean, sharp eyebrows arched over his dark, sunken eyes as my words turned him back around to face me. Our eyes danced past each other once more, and he gifted me with a tight smile, the kind that would hide his fangs. “You don’t say.” I nodded. “Humans wandering around in the dark, hunting fairies?” Raff’s smile grew, still hiding his fangs. “We should do something about that.” Smiling myself, knowing that Raff’s thoughts had turned to food, anticipation filled me.
Dusk found us curled together in our bed. I woke first and slid from between his arms, leaving the box and Raff to wake up once the sun fully set. After a quick shower in the waterfall, I slipped on my dark brown breeches, leaving my chest bare, before combing my long dark hair into a topknot. Raff stirred as I finished my hair, the first breath of unlife rattling in his lungs. A death rattle in reverse. The low hardwood box we slept in was a compromise, somewhere between a coffin and a normal bed. Graveyard dirt lined the floor beneath it and a feather-stuffed mattress filled it. Returning to the bed, I stared at Raff as he woke, my eyes tracing the delicate perfection of his chest. Finely muscled arms and legs belied his strength, and my body tightened as I remembered the strength of his hands holding me down.
He’ll be hungry when he wakes. I pictured him rising from sleep and leaping for me, tearing my flesh as he fed. In the thought’s wake, my heart skipped a beat, and excitement coursed through me. While he could feed from me, fae blood was heady, and if Raff drank from me tonight, it would be another few days before either of us left the grotto. The key is to not be the first thing he sees. And on its heels, another thought: But oh, the beauty of my lover’s kiss. I slid around to the top of the bed, just shy of Raff’s head. Then I took one step back from the box, away from his line-of-sight, and waited for the vampire to stir.
Raff flexed his jaws as his will grew stronger, teeth gleaming in the candlelight, a predator awakening. Returning to life slowly, his full body stretched, bowing upward and outward. The stretch brought me into sight. Raff’s dark eyes burned feverishly, dancing lights in twin Stygian pits. Raw will to live. His facial expression softened as his mind returned. “My Steed,” he greeted in a faint whisper. “I hunger.”
“Get dressed, and we will go hunt, My Corpse Lily.” His lips twitched at the pet name. He pretends to hate it, but secretly he loves it. I kicked the box. “Come on.”
“Mind your manners,” he warned, rising, his voice gaining strength. Even with his short brown hair mussed, my heart fluttered at the clean line his body cut in profile. I studied Raff a moment, trying to judge his mood. Pushing him could be fun, leading to tantalizing new games to play, or it could end in an agitated vampire at my throat; the consequences of being fae-drunk be damned. Best get him fed first. I bowed as an apology and stepped away without turning my back to him. Keeping Raff in sight, I grabbed a simple tradesman’s shirt to wear and waited beside the entrance, flipping my bowler hat in my hands, while Raff finished dressing.
Once we both looked like we could pass for hunters stalking game at night, we squeezed through the grotto’s entrance and set our sites on the little stream running through the nearby village. Walking together through the dark brought its own delicious thrill, a building anticipation of things to come. Raff made no sound as he walked, dancing instinctively from one tree’s shadow to another. However, as I walked, I happily made as much noise as possible. Wayward eyes would see only me, skimming over the fleeting shadow of the vampire. They would think nothing of a lone hunter out in the evening. With luck, the human would feel sorry for me, an unlucky hunter going home for the night without his supper. They might even come closer to offer me food. If only they knew.
On Cottingley’s outskirts we paused. Much of the rolling fields and woodlands had disappeared long ago. Their loss still drew a sweet bead of anger to play with at the back of my mind. Yet, the wild stream that ran through the village had defeated the humans. They’d built up all around it, leaving a verge of forest and greenery along its banks. It was this wood that the queen had forbidden any fae to enter.
Raff closed the distance between us and whispered, “There are humans in the woods.” Hunger made his voice sharp, his body taut; he practically thrummed in the air beside me. “Go find me a snack, My Steed.” He faded into shadow as I nodded. Turning off the road we’d been following, I broke into a long-legged, leaping run through the fields and gardens of the nearby homes, ducking around gates and fences, joining Raff, lost in the shadows, until I reached the forested edge of the stream. There, I splashed into the cold running water and let my physical form melt away.
I waited a moment, lurking below the surface in water form, hoping the splash itself would draw the fairy hunters. Too easy. When no one appeared, I swam upstream, flowing over rocks in the shallow stretches, a glistening blob of water moving against the flow, until I reached a deep pool into which a tumble-down waterfall spilled. Taking my physical form, I swam up out of the water and, with a thought, dressed myself in court finery to rival the king. Pulling a panpipe from the air, I perched on a large river rock near the tumbling water, my feet dangling into the pool. I wonder if I should try for wings. Don’t all fairies have wings now as far as humans are concerned, thanks to that Barrie character? I blew a low, quiet note on the pipe, hoping it would blend with the forest sounds and the nightbird calls. Curious, scared humans always tasted best, My Corpse Lily said.
Another few lonely notes sent drifting through the night brought the humans. They came crashing through the woods, whispering about being quiet. Behind me, through the trees opposite, a harsh whisper danced through the leaves, and a stray breeze caressed my bare chest, letting me know that Raffaele drew near. I closed my eyes and bent to the pipe, playing slowly, a tune from memory.
A human gasp shattered the trance I’d been building with my tune as a pair of men broke through the underbrush and saw me. I slipped into the water, disappearing with only the slightest ripple. “Damn!” the middle-aged man cursed. “You saw it, right?”
“I did!” the younger man concurred. “We’re close, Edward.”
“Set up the camera,” Edward instructed before climbing cautiously down the bank to stand at the river’s edge, surveying the water with his hands on his hips. The clothes he wore marked him a gentleman scholar, not a hunter. While he had no hat, his younger friend’s white boater practically glowed in the dark. Their thick trousers, waistcoats, and plain shirts were well-suited for hiking about the beck.
My hands itched, longing to grab him, but I waited, wondering what scheme the humans had in mind. Did they want a photograph of me? Perhaps they could get one of Raff. The thought brought a chuckle to my throat, and I blew a few merry bubbles at the water’s surface, confident the humans couldn’t see me beneath the waves.
“There,” the younger one hissed, pointing toward my laughter.
“Hello?” Edward cooed. “Are you a fairy? One of the fairies of the beck?” he asked, voice lilting as if he were talking to a young child. Smiling, I splashed through the water, away from the rock I’d been sitting on, around the deep pool once and over to where the froth of the waterfall was thickest. “We mean you no harm,” Edward continued, trying to follow my movement with his eyes as he took a step closer.
From below, I studied his intense, earnest gaze. Then, through the eddies, the moving shadows behind Edward’s young friend caught my eye. Raffaele’s form grew solid, unnoticed by the humans, as the shadows parted for their master. “Maybe it wants a gift?” the young man suggested. “Don’t they like gifts?”
“Do you want a gift, my friend?” Edward asked, the lilt in his voice growing forced. He turned toward his young companion.
Realizing he’d see Raffaele, a twinge of panic ran through me. Popping out of the water to my chin, I asked, “A gift?”
Edward turned back toward me, waving a hand behind him, signaling to his companion. “Yes.”
I latched onto his eyes, my glamour taking hold of him. His pupils danced wildly about, trying to sort out my form from the water and rocks. No doubt delving into whatever knowledge he held in his brain, hoping to classify me. “What gift?” I asked, rising out of the water to my navel. I swam closer, undulating, holding his attention.
“Well, what would you like? Maybe a coin? A shiny button?” He held out his wrist to show me the shiny buttons on his shirt cuff.
Perfect. Grabbing his extended hand, I sank my teeth into the tender flesh and pulled. Edward screamed, as did his younger companion. I glimpsed Raff enfolding Edward’s companion, dragging him backwards, away from the river’s edge. Delicious. Hauling Edward with me, I made for the bottom of the pool at the base of the tumbling waterfall. The human’s blood seeped across my tongue. He struggled, pulling against my grip and tearing his flesh through my teeth. We went under, and Edward’s screams filled with water. Gurgling and bubbles and thrashing filled my senses as I reveled in the warm sweetness on my tongue.
Then I released him and pulled the buttons off his cuff. Losing my physical form, I drifted to the bottom of the pool, watching Edward thrash toward the surface, unable to find his footing, struggling to breathe. Once he’d cleared the water and clambered back up the steep embankment, I dropped one shiny button on the river bottom, tucked away under the frothing waterfall. The other I kept with me. Joining the babbling flow of water, I floated downstream and away from the village.
Raffaele had taken the young man far from the stream and the woods, out to a lonely field. That was where I found him after searching several meadows and orchards, even the graveyard. Raff sat with his back against a small stone wall, nearly invisible in the shadow cast by a stout oak tree. The young man lay cradled in the vampire’s lap, unconscious. Raff had sated his hunger, his pale skin filled with color and warmth. I dropped to my knees at the human’s feet. “He lives?” I asked.
“For a moment more,” Raff murmured, the words rolling luxuriously off his tongue. He had enjoyed the young man we’d captured. I shifted closer and took hold of the human. Pulling up his trouser leg, I bent to take a bite. Raff hissed, arresting my movement. I glanced up at him but did not retreat. “Who said you could eat?”
“I choose to eat while he still lives.” Only ghouls and sluaghs eat the dead. “You ate. It is my turn.”
“He is mine, Sedge. You took the other in the pool.”
When Raff resorted to my name, there was little room to stand against him. Hesitating, a part of me wanted to push him. He could be so masterful, as his strength and anger honed any punishment he would gift me. The thought of his hands on me, pinning me down, sent a shiver through my frame. His face hardened as I hesitated, shaking me out of the reverie I’d drifted toward. I looked away but did not release the human. “I did not take the other. I took my gift from him and let him go.”
“You let him go?”
Raff’s incredulity brought me back around to look at him. “The deed done, the gift won. You had the prey,” I explained, my eyes dancing past his. When he said nothing more, I gingerly opened my mouth to take a bite once again, watching Raffaele the entire time. His brows lowered, his gaze intensified, and for a moment, it seemed that would be the end. Then he tipped into rage, and the feral beast that lurked inside Raff raised its head. Holding my breath, prepared for the vampire to strike, I closed my mouth and sat back.
Mewling deep in his throat, Raff bent over his prey once again, latching on to the hole he’d torn before. His jaws worked, and the blood flowed again. Bending the human backward at an odd angle, Raff turned his face enough to watch me and make sure I did not eat. Slowly, the human grew cold as the last of his blood fed the vampire. As it did, my anger grew. I risked more! But I dared not feed while Raff’s countenance held such wild hatred.
I settled for impatiently fidgeting with the long grass near my knees as the human’s life fluttered, fading. Then, the vampire pulled away from the wound. “Come, Sedge,” he beckoned. Hesitantly, I crawled forward, straddling the human, lying half upon him. The man’s heart beat like a trapped bird beneath his shirt, fading. Inches from the wound where blood still pooled, I glanced up into Raff’s eyes, flinching at the anger roiling there. “No Sedge,” Raff whispered. Then he licked the blood from the man’s clavicle, mere inches from my mouth, slowly teasing it along his lips, watching me. A desperate cry built in my throat and spilled into the space between us. I hadn’t realized I’d been holding my breath until it left me, shaky and thin. “Did you even ask?” the vampire lowed.
“Please. Life fades, Raff.” I couldn’t keep the desperation out of my voice. “Please, may I feed?”
“From me, you may. Hurry, the soul has nearly flown.”
Desperate, excitement building, I thrust forward and licked Raff’s mouth, sucking blood from his skin and questing into his mouth for more, licking it from his teeth. He let me, his lips parted, pliant. But the rest of his body felt hard, ready to spring on me, held down by a thin and fading will. I pulled back, and our eyes met, sparking glamour and allure from each of us that forced us to look away once more. “Please,” I whispered, pulling myself up to kneel before Raff, one knee at his leg, the other entangled with the prey. My hips moved against the vampire, my excitement building. I whispered into his mouth, “A bite before he dies.”
“Take yours, then I will take mine.”
He means to have me.
I sank to the wound that Raff had made and pulled warm flesh from it, eating quickly, until death set the man’s fluttering heart free. I pulled back reluctantly, the warmth of the blood and the flesh still filling my throat. But dead meat did not interest me or the vampire. There were other games at hand. Raff stood and pulled me up to stand beside him, facing him, as the discarded corpse fell away. He leaned his head against mine, forehead to forehead, eyes closed. My body sang with need.
“You’ve fed me, and I’ve fed you,” Raff began. Strong hands caressed my chest and played lower, immaculate nails etching lines across my stomach that burned as blood seeped out. “I’m going to ride you now, My Steed.” His head moved suddenly, a snake striking in the dark. Sharp fangs pierced my shoulder. I cried out, a startled sound that turned into barely stifled pleasure. His hands pulled me into him, and I tossed my head back, fighting for control. I tried to pull away, fleeting attempts that encouraged my lover to use more of his strength. Strong hands quelled my movement as Raff’s mouth worked against my shoulder, worrying the muscle and making it bleed more. I moaned, my heart beating faster. It called to my lover, and he bit deeper. Panting now, pleasure raced through me, spreading outward from where Raff fed, reaching through my core to tug on my groin, making me hard. Raff rocked against me, kicking a foot out from under me. Knees buckling, tumbling backwards to the ground, my lover rode me down. Stars burst across my vision as my head hit hard against the stone. Fuck.
Candy colors coated the world, all too bright, saturated, and sugar-sweet in the afterglow. Raff, now fae-drunk, lay with his head on my chest. He giggled, a murmur at the edge of his throat, every time I breathed—taken by the novelty of a life function he hadn’t experienced in centuries. The sound of innocence bubbling up from Raff pulled at my heart. A remnant of his human self, only visible when he was drunk. I held my breath and waited for him to frown at me before I took another breath. The pain will be coming. “We have to go, My Corpse Lily. Back to our bed to sleep in each other’s arms.”
“First I will ride you again, My Steed.”
It was my turn to laugh. My body quivered with the chuckle, causing Raff to join in. He smiled wide, his fangs bright. “Yes, you will ride, Raff. But first we have to stand.” He slid off me, and I regained my feet, moving slowly, trying not to awaken nerve endings that had been rubbed raw, torn, or ravaged by my lover’s attention. I reached down gingerly and picked up the vampire. He clung to my neck, his arm rubbing against the shoulder wound that would take some time to heal. My breath caught quick and sharp, and I adjusted my grip on the vampire until he was clinging more or less to my back. Then I lifted him and, at the same time, pulled on my horse form. Fast stuck to my hide, Raff complained and grumbled for miles, only falling silent when we reached the grotto and I returned to my physical form.
Together we managed to slip into the mine, squeeze through the keyhole, and stumble into our chamber. I peeled Raff’s blood-covered clothes from him, dropping them in a pile that would have to be burned. Then I added my own. Raff had crawled to bed while I undressed. He lay there, watching me, his eyes lingering on the scratch marks across my stomach and the bite on my shoulder. “You are so tasty,” he whispered. Reaching out to me, he commanded, “Join me, My Steed.”
“You are drunk on my blood, My Corpse Lily,” I reminded him with a smile. “I think it would be wiser if you slept.”
He pouted. “It’s not dawn yet.” Hand out, he continued to demand my presence. “I insist,” he added, voice dropping low.
Danger lies with you. I shook my head no. “I must disobey. You have taken too much, and I must heal.”
“You will be punished,” he snapped, hitting our mattress with an open palm.
Punished later or killed now. I smiled and turned away from him, certain he wouldn’t make it from the bed. As before, it was an invitation to him to close the distance, to touch me. Anticipation built in my shoulders as I waited for his hands or his fangs, the thought of further punishment awakening my hunger once more. Instead, a heavy thud. I turned back around and sighed, keeping my smile small.
Raffaele laughed from the floor. “You knew I couldn’t stand.”
“I will help you back to bed if you keep your fangs to yourself,” I cautioned.
“My fangs, I promise,” he stopped laughing and clamped his lips shut. I rolled my eyes but closed the distance between us and bent, grabbing him under his arms. His fingernails sank deep into my skin, the right hand digging into my bite wound, drawing new blood and fresh pain. I hissed, and my knees nearly gave out. “No fangs, My Steed,” Raff laughed as I dumped him into the box bed. He lay there, licking blood from his fingers—a sweet, but messy, treat that he couldn’t let go to waste.
I retreated to our table and its wooden chair. Once he fell asleep, I’d be able to join Raff in bed. Until then, I’d wait. Soon the afterglow disappeared. It no longer pushed away the burning of the new scratches or the anger of the reopened wound. No allure drowned my inhibitions; only pain as my body reacted to our romp.
Near dawn, Raff withdrew from his body, the soul fleeing the glory of the day. I stood slowly, stiff in all the right places. Good sex will do that. Moving carefully, I first checked on the vampire. He lay awkward in the bed, legs twisted and entangled in the covers. But there was room enough for me. One foot in the box, I heard a thick splash in the pool behind me. With a sigh, I turned to the waterfall as my visitor pulled on her physical form.
That was fast. I waited, not moving to greet the intruder. The nixie gave me a dour look, her green skin and hair made of reeds and fronds catching the pre-dawn light from the crack above. “I was just at court, Galingale,” I complained.
“And then you and your boyfriend spent the night in the beck after the queen expressly forbid anyone from doing so.” A simmering anger melted her words, as if I’d personally offended her.
“The queen does not rule the undead,” I needled her, not hiding my smile.
She scoffed. “You are summoned to the Noon Court, Cousin.” Then she vanished, melting back to her water form and swimming up the waterfall.
Noon Court wasn’t as bad as Midnight Court. The bright sun drove many fae to ground. Indeed, the courtisans often spent the day sleeping off their liquor and sex, meaning few attended. Few, if any, to witness this new meeting with “our Wayward Sedge.” The guards with their fancy poleaxes still fidgeted nervously as I stepped out of the fairy pool, slipping from water form to physical. I nodded to them anyway as I crossed the room to where Galingale stood.
She eyed me with disdain. “You should dress appropriately.”
I’d purposely worn only my breeches, and her discomfort made me happy. Her eyes kept flitting from my face back to the bite on my shoulder and the scratches across my torso, fascinated by my wounds. Smiling, I looked down at the clothes I wore. “I feel this is perfectly appropriate. The queen has summoned me in the middle of the day. She is lucky I dressed at all.”
Exasperated, Galingale turned away and hurried to the reception hall, waiting for me to catch up. Until then, she could not fulfill her escort duty. I followed her at a leisurely pace. No point in rushing to receive my tongue lashing. At the door, more guards dressed in finery stepped aside, allowing me in to the Queen’s presence. Once I entered, Galingale stepped away, disappearing into the fae warrens with a frustrated huff.
Noon Court meant no finery for Queen Calathea either. Her green hair had been pulled back into a no-nonsense bun, and she wore a plain chemise. She’d left off the flat white makeup as well. I stopped several feet short of her throne and waited for the elf to speak. I wonder if that wrinkle in the middle of her forehead is there because I didn’t bow. She clicked her tongue at me and shook her head. Or perhaps the bite mark?
“You were forbidden from entering the village, or the stream, or the woods, Sedge. You stood in that very spot not three nights past when I directed my people to leave the humans alone.” She was too regal to slump, but her words held a bone-numbing weariness.
“I cannot help where the vampire chooses to hunt.”
“Your Majesty,” she added, a reminder of her title and how she ought to be addressed. “It looks like you were his prey last night in addition to the missing human.”
“I–”
She held up a hand, cutting off my words. “The stories today are of fairies attacking humans in the woods. There’s even one with bitemarks on his arm and a tale of nearly drowning.” I smiled and bowed. “No Sedge, that is not a good thing.”
“He offered a gift, and I took it,” I explained. “Once he would have been mocked by his fellows for being duped by a kelpie. Now the Fairy Queen comes to his defense?” She stared a long time, the storm in her night-dark eyes growing dangerous. I’d hit a nerve.
“I had hoped that the humans would find no further evidence of fairies and move on. You ruined that, Sedge.” I shrugged at her words. Long minutes passed. Then at last she sighed. “Go away, Sedge, but try to remember you are tolerated because you are supposed to be controlling the vampire. He does not dictate where he hunts, you do.”
Me? Maybe once, long ago, I had a chance to control Raffaele, but no more. He has me right where he wants me. The thought sent pleasure rippling through my core.
“You smell like court again,” Raff said, coming up behind me as I sat at the table. He kissed my neck, careful not to brush the wound on my shoulder. “That strange court smell that has no anger.”
I smiled at the table. “The Queen sends her regards.” Raff moved to sit next to me. Our eyes danced near each other. “She says you’re not to go hunting in the woods.”
Raff giggled, still fae-drunk. “No need to hunt, My Steed. I have you.”
I smiled at him, a thrill chasing away the doubt that had been growing since the queen’s dismissal. Indeed you do.
The End