Possessed by the Fallen. Sharon Ashwood

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СКАЧАТЬ prison firmly closed.”

      “Is that all?” Jack asked.

      “We’re also tracing one of our own.” That much was true. Of course, there was more she hadn’t said.

      “Who are you seeking?” asked King Renault. “Is there some official assistance Marcari could offer?”

      “Perhaps, Your Majesty,” Lark replied.

      The king gave a nod, his expression carefully neutral. “Go on.”

      “The spell that would release the Dark Queen requires very specific ingredients, including blood from the Haven clan of the Light Fey. My mission is to locate the two remaining members of that family and ensure their protection. After years of living under a false name, the last full-blooded member is on the move.”

      “Therrien Haven?” Jack asked, sitting back in his chair.

      “Yes. A week ago he paid cash for a plane ticket from Prague to Marcari under a false name. It seems he has a half-human daughter living here whom he hasn’t seen since she was a girl.”

      “Her name is Lexie.” Jack frowned. “I had no idea Therrien was aware of Lexie’s whereabouts.”

      “The photographer who is to shoot my daughter’s wedding?” King Renault asked.

      “Yes, Your Majesty. Haven has followed his daughter’s photography career,” said Lark. “His apartment in Prague was filled with clippings from magazines that featured her work. He must know she will be at the wedding. He might have come hoping for a reunion with his daughter.”

      “Or to protect her,” said Jack. “She’s a potential target of the Dark Fey, too.”

      “A father would be likely to do either,” Renault murmured, no doubt thinking of the princess.

      “Haven booked a room but never checked in,” said Lark. “As far as I can tell, he’s vanished. My next step is to question his daughter.”

      Jack’s eyes narrowed. “I can tell you right now, she doesn’t know a thing.”

      Lark bridled at his tone. “That’s something I’d like to figure out for myself. I’ll tread softly.”

      Jack held her in his ice-blue gaze, his expression stubborn. It was clear he was protective of this woman, Lexie. Then his manner shifted as if he was mentally turning a page. “Are there other reasons that you’re in Marcari?”

      The angry suspicion in his tone made her pulse jump, but the king spoke before she could reply. “Why do you ask that, Jack?” He didn’t sound pleased.

      Jack leaned forward. “Ms. Lark suffers from complicated loyalties, sire, since she’s both an agent of the Light Fey Council and the Company. Given what has just happened in the woods, I’m certain there is more that she’s not telling us. I don’t believe in coincidences. There is a connection between the attack and her arrival in Marcari, even if it is an innocent one—and I’m not easily convinced of innocence among the fey.”

      “Jack!” Lark protested, her already pounding heart now speeding with apprehension.

      King Renault had clearly heard enough. “Unfounded suspicions are beneath us, but neither can we afford to be careless. Perhaps Ms. Lark should relax in a private room while you and I discuss what has become of the Company compound. Then I’m sure we’ll have questions for her to answer, and she shall answer them.”

      Lark sprang to her feet, instinct screaming at her to flee from the king’s stern presence—but it was Jack’s eyes she sought. “No, you have this all wrong.”

      But his expression told her she’d run out of free passes. For an instant her old guilt robbed her of the will to fight, sapping her strength like a deadly fever. It was only for a heartbeat, but it was enough time for Jack’s hand to close around her arm.

      “That’s an excellent idea, sire. I’ll make sure Lark is comfortable.”

      His frown said she’d be anything but.

       Chapter 7

      The tiny room where Jack left Lark was mostly empty, with a chair and side table and not much else. Lark swore under her breath. The lock was electronic, operated by a keypad. In other words, she’d need more than a knack with handcuffs to get out of this mess. Lark prowled the few feet of floor, frustrated and longing for her guns. Blasting the guts out of the lock would have suited her frame of mind.

      Finally, she slumped in the chair and buried her face in her hands. All at once the sheer awfulness of the past hours slammed into her like an avalanche. She leaned forward, folding her arms on her knees.

      Disaster had struck. Even if, by some miracle, some of the local agents had survived the blast at the Company’s headquarters, every sense she possessed told her the casualties had been high. No doubt Jack and the king were putting wheels in motion—securing the site, calling the other Company offices, preparing a cover story the human newshounds would believe. Then would come even more activity—forensics, notifications, burial arrangements. The Company had a protocol for every contingency, even one as dire as this.

      But their orders only covered action, not emotion. Fine souls had been lost this night—good friends and brave hearts. The world was a poorer place now.

      Face after face flashed through her mind, each one tearing away a piece of her. Tears slipped down her cheeks, the first signs of a coming flood. Alone and with nothing to distract her, Lark soon gave in to a storm of sobbing. And Jack thought I played a role in that terrible destruction!

      She should have known her reunion with Jack would not go well. I could have stayed in the shadows, but I approached you because you’re slipping, Jack, and I’m the only one who knows why. You need someone who understands. Helping him was the only way to make up for stealing his secret in the first place.

      To make matters worse, what good had her betrayal of Jack done? He hadn’t possessed the spell or formula or supernatural stardust that would restore the Light Fey to their former strength. His extraordinary power was a curse—not at all something they could or would want to duplicate for themselves. And now, with the Company in ruins and the Dark Queen on the brink of freedom, the stakes were getting steadily higher.

      Lark rose and crossed to the window, fishing in her pocket for a tissue. She mopped her nose, her eyes feeling scratchy and raw. It was dark out, but there were lights enough to see the palace gardens below. They were clearly trimmed and manicured to human tastes—nothing like the half-wild gardens the Light Fey preferred.

      She wondered how long those gardens—or the Light Fey—would last. What chance did her people have against the coming of the Dark Queen?

      There was one last gamble, and that was why Lark was in Marcari—and why she had to get out from under lock and key.

      Lark examined the windows. They were casements, opening out over a sheer drop to the rocky garden path below. Not her first choice of exit. She leaned her forehead against the glass. She was exhausted, and there was so much she had yet to do before the night was out.

      She returned to the door with its keypad. Oddly, СКАЧАТЬ