《Soul Thief》Chapter 12 - The Steward's Domain

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When Beth woke, her fingers were still tangled in Ronan’s hair. Their positions on the bed, however, had changed drastically.

His head was on her chest and he had an arm tightly strapped over her stomach, clutching her against him. One of his legs rested over one of hers and her other hand was resting on his shoulder. He was tense, mumbling under his breath. Beth realized that he must be having a nightmare and instantly her heart ached for him.

She stroked his hair, hoping to soothe him. “It’s okay,” she whispered.

Was this the violence that Sebastian had spoken of? It seemed to her that he was using her as a teddy bear. She burned with curiosity to know what was going on within his mind.

The sun was out overhead. It had been nearly dawn when they’d passed out. It must be mid-morning now. Ronan uttered a growl and squeezed her tighter.

“Hey now,” she chided, scratching her nails against his scalp lightly. “Be nice, sleeping husband.” He was heavy and hot, half on top of her like he was. He clung like someone was trying to tear her away.

Ronan woke abruptly, his breaths coming in heaves. Beth didn’t stop her ministrations against his hair. It seemed to only take him a moment to orient himself because it took only a moment for him to stop moving completely. Even his breathing stopped.

Beth felt the first ounce of fear she’d felt since he’d lain down beside her. His muscles were tensed, like a viper waiting to strike.

“You okay?” she asked, her voice wavering slightly.

He took a deep breath, then another, then seemed to relax as he pulled away, disentangling himself from her. Immediately she missed him pressed against her, but held her tongue on that front, turning on her side to face him.

He stared hard at the skylight, his chest moving up and down slowly, deliberately. “I’m fine. I’m sorry for making you uncomfortable.”

“You didn’t make me uncomfortable,” she admitted. “A little hot, maybe. But the rest of it was … a nice way to wake up. What do you dream about?” She couldn’t stop the words before they escaped from her mouth.

He glanced sharply at her. “Nothing.”

“Sure thing,” she said, too into self preservation to challenge him on that.

Beth sat up and yawned, stretching slightly. She tried not to look at Ronan’s chiseled and oh so bare chest.

“What would you normally be doing on a day like today? Before you married me.” His voice was gruff, whether with morning or annoyance she wasn’t sure. Perhaps it was even embarrassment for how he’d been so tightly wrapped around her.

“Mm. Waking up. Getting dressed. Either smoking with Benji or sparring with Sebastian before going to the Glen for my shift.” She stood, pulling the large t-shirt over her head and going to stand in front of her closet, giving him her bare back while she picked through her clothes.

“We go back to see Maeve soon.” His tone was grave, and rightly so.

Beth felt herself stiffen as a shiver traversed her spine. “Color me not looking forward to that.”

“Me either.” Ronan moved to the edge of the bed and swung his legs over. “You’ve no idea how nice it is not to be a summons away from her.”

“You mean you don’t miss having sex regularly?” she teased, tossing him a glanced over her shoulder. She was startled when his dark eyes were fixed on her ass. Apparently not even knights were immune to yoga pants.

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“No,” he replied.

She pulled on a bra, not exactly digging that answer. Beth usually wasn’t a sex-starved hussy, but Ronan kind of made her feel like one. To know that she didn’t return the favor was slightly disappointing.

She picked out a blue tank top and turned around. Somehow he was already back in his leather pants. She hadn’t even heard him move.

“Your shirt should be in that basket. The twins finished the laundry for me.”

“Nice of them,” he murmured, crossing to the basket and digging through it.

“So what are we going to do today?” She watched him carefully place aside a thong before pulling out his tunic.

Ronan pulled it over his head and immediately Beth missed his abs.

“Didn’t you want to see the Steward?”

Beth perked up. “Rose? Yes. Let’s go see Rose.”

“Maybe we can make her a stop on our way to see Sylvie’s hermit?”

She pouted, deflating. “Do we have to?”

“Do we have to go see who is ordering the smuggling of detached Fae souls into the mortal realm? Yes. It is in the interest of our people.”

“Our people? I am not Queen, nor are you King. We don’t have people, Ronan. Not like that.”

He raised an eyebrow at her and crossed his arms. “And if we don’t protect them, who will? Maeve?”

Beth dropped down onto the window seat. “I guess you’re right.” She was his wife now. The well-being of the Unseelie citizens was now just as much her responsibility as it was his. “They’re jerks though.”

“Who?”

“Our people. The Unseelie Court.”

“The courtiers are jerks, for the most part, yes. But think of the others. Those hidden away in the cracks of the mortal world, avoiding Maeve’s eye just as you have done all these years. Those who simply want to survive. People like your friend Trina.”

Beth glared at him. “My friend who you would have killed.”

“In defense of you. I would not have taken her heart until she no longer needed it. Maeve doesn’t care when I do things, as long as I do them.”

“Oh, look at that. The tin man does have a heart.” Beth crossed her arms petulantly.

“Did you just reference the Wizard of Oz at me?” Ronan looked a little incredulous. “And of course I have a heart. I’m meant to be feared, I’m a symbol of the Queen’s wrath, but that doesn’t mean I’m a callous killer when I don’t have to be.”

Beth continued to glare at him, unsure of how to respond. Afraid to let herself think that maybe underneath all that blood and swordplay there was a decent guy. Afraid to let herself feel sorry for him more than she already did.

Ronan sighed, his frown hinting at his distress more than his scowl. “I can’t protect everyone though. I can’t protect you.”

“Aren’t you under oath to protect me, husband?” She tried not to sound condescending, but she wasn’t sure she achieved it.

“I am. But I can’t protect you from Maeve. From what she wants you to do.”

Beth pulled her knees up, hugging them to her chest as she fought off the chill that his words brought. “I’m dreading it.”

“As am I.”

They were silent for a moment, pondering the difficult tasks ahead.

“Ronan?”

“Yes?”

“Did you ever know, in the palace, a servant named Delphine?” Beth wasn’t sure why she hadn’t asked him about her friend before. It was possible that he would have answers that Katherine and Rose didn’t, being so close to Maeve.

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“It doesn’t sound familiar.”

Her heart sank. “Oh, alright. She’s Benji’s cousin and a good friend of mine from when I was a child. She was running errands for the Queen, whatever that means, and then disappeared. I-I just thought you might have heard something.”

“I haven’t, I’m sorry. I’m privilege to most of Maeve’s plots, but not all.”

Beth nodded, sighing. “Speaking of the palace and what we must do, what I must do … aren’t you worried about me being around more detached souls? Last night was difficult. If you hadn’t kissed me …”

“I know.” His dark eyes bored into hers as he moved closer, standing directly over her. “I am concerned. But the more exposure you have, theoretically the easier it will be to control it when Maeve forces you to suck souls out.”

“But these aren’t like those will be. These aren’t dipped in a hard candy shell like any soul I’m going to have to consume. These are raw, exposed, not muted at all.”

“And if you can build up a tolerance to them then a hard candy shelled soul will be a piece of cake.”

“We’re mixing too many sugary metaphors here. All it’s doing is making me hungry. There isn’t a point in building up a tolerance. If Maeve orders me to devour a soul then I have to do it, whether or not I can resist the gooey filling.”

Ronan held out a hand to help her up. “You’re right. But still, a little practice is never a bad thing.”

She shot him a dark look.

“We have to go regardless. We have to find out how someone besides you is extracting souls. And maybe it will give us a clue as to the sudden arrival of revenants into the mortal realm.”

Beth bit her lip, anxious. “Where’s the thermos now?”

“Hidden. Don’t worry about it. And don’t look like that.” He brought a hand up to her cheek, brushing a finger against it. “I won’t let you do anything.”

“Ronan, you saw me last night. I was a crazy person. Just thinking about it now has me all shaky.”

“I won’t let you do anything,” he repeated, gazing into her eyes. His dark irises held a promise and foolishly Beth wanted to trust him.

She sighed. “Fine. But we spend two hours minimum with Rose.”

He chuckled, the seriousness leaving his face. “Deal.”

The Glen was not yet packed when Beth, Ronan, Sylvie and Sebastian arrived. Sebastian had been talked into it by Sylvie, though Beth suspected that he would have come easily and was just making the selkie work for it for his own entertainment. After not having seen each other for a couple of years at least, the two of them had fallen back into an easy rapport, with Ronan on the outskirts. Beth couldn’t help but wonder if it had always been like that for the three of them.

The Glen was just as Beth had left it. Warm, dim lights twinkled from the vaulted ceiling and none of the chairs were where they were supposed to be. She pushed a few in on their way back to Rose’s office.

Ronan reached the door first but waited for her before knocking. There was a moment of silence and then the door opened and Rose appeared, her hair up in a flyaway bun, stuck through with a pen and an icepick.

The Steward of the Gate took them all in with a glance, then pulled Beth wordlessly to her and wrapped in a tight embrace.

“I’ve missed you so much. I was so worried.” Her aunt’s voice was breathless in Beth’s ear.

Beth hugged her back hard, relishing the warmth and familiarity. “I’ve missed you too.”

The two women pulled apart and looked each other over. Beth shared Rose’s golden hair and slightly upturned nose, but her eyes were different. Rose’s were a dark, chocolate brown.

After a heavy moment, Rose stepped aside. “Come in, come in.”

Sylvie and Sebastian must have hung back because they were nowhere to be seen. Ronan and Beth each took a seat before Rose’s big cherry desk.

Rose sat across from them, her eyes shining with unshed tears as she smiled widely at her niece. The smile was shaky though, and sad.

“I’m so sorry, Beth. For all that had happened to you. If I could ring your mother’s neck I would.”

“As would I, have no doubt,” Beth said, leaning forward. “I’m a puppet for the Queen now, nothing more.”

Ronan made a sound in his throat that sounded like disagreeing. “That’s not true, Elizabeth. As my wife you’re a symbol for all the Unseelie people.”

“A symbol of arranged marriage,” she mumbled.

He shot her an annoyed sideways glance and cleared his throat. “Regretfully, we cannot stay long, Steward. We’re on our way to the Drochaid.”

The color drained from Rose’s face. “Why are you going to the Drochaid?”

“We’re following a lead on some smuggling.” Ronan’s voice was level.

“Smuggling?” Rose said, her tone taking on a sheen of disbelief. “If someone were smuggling through here, I’d know.”

“Not drugs,” said Ronan. “Detached souls.”

Rose’s mouth opened and closed soundlessly.

“Right?” Beth said, picking at hole in her jeans. “Everything has gone to hell.”

Rose’s wide, pleading eyes fixed on Ronan’s and Beth could swear something silent passed between them. His nod confirmed it and then both he and Rose stood.

“Wine,” the Steward said, turning at last to her niece. “Let’s catch up, shall we?” She came around the desk and held out a hand for Beth, who took it.

Sylvie and Sebastian sat at a round table nestled in the back corner that Beth had always despised because it was difficult to clean under. Now she claimed a seat at it, sitting down next to Sebastian.

Rose sat on her other side. “There’s my favorite winemaker. Still refusing to sell to me?”

“Sorry beautiful, I’m selfish.” Sebastian grinned at Beth’s aunt.

“Obviously not for money,” said Rose as Ronan sat between her and Sylvie.

“Hello Steward,” the selkie said.

“Hello Sylviana.” Was Rose a little stiff? Beth wondered if there was a history here that she didn’t know about. It wouldn’t be the first instance this week. “So you all are travelling to the Drochaid?”

“I’m staying behind. Business to attend to,” said Sebastian. Beth could almost swear she saw him wink.

Sylvie pouted at him.

“What? You three are perfectly capable of investigating a cottage in the woods.” Even though his words were nonchalant, his tone belied a bit of worry.

Beth understood that a trip into the Drochaid was nothing to take lightly, though she’d never been there herself. Katherine had warned her, Benji and Delphine away with her stories, much like she’d done with the Hedge.

Apparently Beth was going to break all of Katherine’s rules within the span of a single week. She wasn’t overly frightened though. Perhaps she really trusted Ronan when he said he wouldn’t let anything happen to her.

Even Ronan seemed tense, however. “We should be fine. Just be ready to heal any injuries upon our return.”

“Any idea on when that’ll be?” Sebastian searched his friend’s face, his tone more serious than before.

“It shouldn’t take too long. It’s only a few hours ride to the forest’s edge. We should be back by daylight here. If all goes well at the cottage.”

“And if all doesn’t go well?” Rose asked, leaning forward and biting at her full bottom lip. “It’s not as if you can call us on your inter-dimensional cell plan. I swear, Ronan Mac Nevin, if anything happens to my niece -- “

“I’m aware, Steward,” Ronan interrupted. “I’ll keep her safe.” He kept her gaze for a moment.

Beth sat back, not wanting to get between the intense staredown. “So we’re riding. Like, horseback?”

“Fae horses. But yes.” Ronan finally broke away to glance at her.

“So … bigger.” Faerie was like Texas. Everything was bigger, and had sharper teeth.

“We’re avoiding the castle though, right?” Sylvie asked, roping Ronan into a different meaningful staring contest.

Was everyone keeping secrets? Beth was on the verge of being sick of this.

“We’re stopping by the stables. That’s the closest we’ll get.” Ronan assured her.

It assured Beth too. The stables were a good fifteen minutes walk from the Pale Palace. Maeve didn’t like the stench of the beasts, which suited Beth just fine, since she didn’t like the stench of Maeve.

“Where’s the wine?” Rose asked suddenly, glancing around the empty tabletop. She raised an eyebrow at Beth. “You didn’t get any wine?”

Beth couldn’t help but let out a surprised laugh. “Silly me. I assumed the person actually on staff would serve us.” She pointed with her thumb at Gerard, the shy half-fae who usually just did the cleaning. It looked like he’d been promoted in her absence, though he seemed to be hiding behind a potted tree in the corner.

Rose frowned as she looked the poor boy over. “Gerard is … trying. I think.”

Beth rose and made her way to the bar. Oh, how she’d missed this bar. She ran her hand over the polished wood as she rounded the corner and grabbed a tray. She filled it with drinks and brought it back just in time to hear Sylvie say, “Well, obviously she’s insane.”

“Who is?” Beth asked curiously, setting each drink before its intended owner and stowing the tray on an adjacent empty table.

“Maeve,” Sebastian said, pulling his wine toward him. He took a sip and made a slightly disapproving face.

“See?” said Rose. “Yours would be better.”

“We might be able to make a deal. But only because you have the greatest niece ever.” Sebastian took another sip and swished it around in his mouth before swallowing.

“Right?” Rose reached over and pushed a lock of hair behind Beth’s ear. “You should let me braid your hair before you go, sweetness. It’ll keep it out of your way. And is that all you’re wearing. I have a sweater in the back that I’ve been wearing. It might be yours, actually …” She got up and wandered toward her office.

Beth watched her go, takin ga long pull of her own wine. She’d missed Rose so much. She turned back to the group and found Ronan’s dark eyes assessing her, his brows drawn into that delicious scowl. She raised an eyebrow at him in response.

The corners of his lips quirked up.

Beth took another pull of her wine to hide her blush. When she looked back up, Sylvie was rolling her eyes.

“You two are ridiculous,” she all but spat.

“Come now. Have you ever seen our boy so happy?” Sebastian joked. He didn’t seem surprised when Ronan’s scowl was turned upon him.

Beth decided to change the subject. “So, full disclosure. I’ve never ridden a horse, mortal or Fae.”

Sylvie snorted. “This’ll be fun.”

“You’ll ride with me,” Ronan said dismissively. He looked over her shoulder at the approaching Rose.

It was Beth’s sweater, after all. A deep green knit with a hood and even a belt. She took it and hugged it. It still smelled a little like weed.

Rose took a seat behind Beth and finger-combed her hair before dividing it into sections, then began to braid.

“So,” she said conversationally. “Are you sure it’s not drugs being smuggled through? I hear there’s a new one being circulated. Fae-based.”

Ronan leaned forward. “What’s it called?”

“I heard someone say Cthonic.” Rose’s deft fingers worked swiftly.

Sebastian blinked. “I’ve heard of it too. I didn’t realize it was new. I just thought it was a reimagining.”

“A reimagining?” Sylvie asked quizzically.

“Yeah. Like how people are calling cocaine snowflake.”

“Hadn’t heard that one either.” Rose secured the braid with a hair tie.

“I had,” Beth said, tipping the last few drops of her wine into her mouth before reaching for Ronan’s untouched goblet. He didn’t stop her.

“It has to be new. The Queen stopped all Faerie-made drugs from being produced, right?” Sylvie’s goblet was now empty too.

“For the most part,” Ronan answered. “But there are always ways. It could certainly be a reimagining. Or it could be our soul juice.”

“Soul juice?” Rose asked, alarmed. “What the hell is that?”

“It’s detached Fae souls,” Beth told her. “All bottled up like milk. Sylvie was playing milkman for some guy in a cottage. The one we’re going to check out.”

Rose frowned, worry written clearly across her features. “You be careful, Beth. Ronan, I swear --”

“Still aware, Steward.”

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