Page 79 of Gemini Hunted
With my mortal enemy.
Barely lit by a dim spill of light slipping through the cracks, Zephyr’s sharp-featured Dark Fae face peers down at me. The narrow slash of his eyepatch bisects his olive skin. His moss-green hair, somehow still sleek under a film of silver dust, spills down on either side around the sharp tips of his ears. I’m lying across his sinuous dragonscale-sheathed legs, with my aching head cradled in his lap. His ridiculous codpiece nudges my ear.
But a cloth, gloriously soaked with cool water, soothes my throbbing brow. Gradually, I realize this Dark Fae tyrant is… tending my wound.
With deceptive gentleness.
In fact, the trickle of water over my skin is what woke me.
“Back among the living, I behold.” Zephyr sighs. If I didn’t know better, I’d almost fancy that Fae sounds… relieved… that I didn’t expire in his arms. “This being the case, I suppose you’d better try to drink a little.”
By some miracle, he’s holding a water bottle to my lips. I grope to steady the bottle, my hand closing over his. Too parched to quibble with the intimacy or the indignity of my circumstances, I guzzle mouthfuls of the delicious liquid without complaint.
Ambrosia.
I can’t abide the grit of dust between my teeth.
“Slowly,” he cautions—easing the bottle away before I’ve drunk anything like my fill, the prick.
“Go to hell,” I mumble, trying to reclaim the bottle.
But I’m pathetically weak. Easily my rival eludes my clumsy grasp, even while otherwise occupied, bathing my aching forehead with an alarming semblance of care.
“Fucking sadist,” I grumble.
His single jade eye narrows in a frown. “I’m not being needlessly cruel, beautiful one. I’m no expert in human anatomy—far from it—but I am mated to a healer who enjoys talking about his trade. You appear to be suffering a possible concussion.”
“Tell me something… I don’t know.” With a sigh, I let my heavy eyes close.
Sounding carefully neutral, as though he wishes to betray nothing of his feelings, Zephyr clears his throat. “In your condition, ’tis likely you shouldn’t sleep.”
“’Tis likely you shouldn’t care.” Merciful fuck, I sound petty. But I feel far too wretched to give a shit.
After a moment, his cool fingers graze my cheek. Without bothering to open my eyes, I swat his hand away.
The prick leaves me in blessed peace for approximately five seconds. Then…
“I fear I may have slain your father,” Zephyr says casually. “I hope you don’t mind?”
Well.Thatwakes me in a hurry.
My violent twitch of reaction drives a white knife of pain through my skull. With a gasp, my eyes fly wide. My nemesis is still peering down on me from above, watching me alertly in the half-light.
I fumble about for something snide to say. Fumble to snatch up the saber for another vicious bout of our verbal fencing.
Alas, my addled wits fail me.
The blade of my spite droops like a wilted daisy.
“How?” I struggle to form the words. “My father… has built an entire career upon… his spectacularly bloody start in life as a trained assassin. He’s considered… rather difficult to kill.”
“Not for me.” Zephyr’s feral mouth curves in a secret smile. I swear, that sly smile curls my toes in my boots. “I kill as I please, with none to deny me. I am the Unseelie King.”
My tongue darts out to touch my upper lip. His gaze tracks my tongue like a snake tracks a bird.
“How?” I whisper.
Not onlyhow did you kill him?But alsohow do I feel if it turns out to be true?
