Baby-daddy drama goes to Hell.

A week past her due date and not in the mood for anything other than chocolate, the last thing Envy wants to deal with is some fairy demanding she chose a consort. Unfortunately, she can’t exactly tell the Gwinth to piss off without him releasing the wild hunt on humanity, and she’s in enough trouble after the whole sealing-the-veil-and-frying-portions-of-the-planet-thing.

It’s bad enough she’s not exactly on speaking terms with Kyle, Berk, and Morgana. Brennan’s way different since she released his fiend. So is she. Assimilating Lilith’s memories and powers are throwing her for a loop, and her own messy feelings on motherhood aren’t helping. Then, Brennan disappears after a devastating scandal surfaces, and everything Envy thought she knew comes crashing down…

AIR & DARKNESS, the second novel in the Dae Diaries series by urban fantasy romance author AK Nevermore.

Before

When we last saw Adam…

 

Adam stood in prayer before his Creator: “Sovereign of the universe!” he said. “The woman you gave me has run away.”

At once, the Holy One, blessed be He, sent three angels to bring her back.

Said the Holy One to Adam, “If she agrees to come back, what is made is good. If not, she must permit one hundred of her children to die every day.”

The angels left God and pursued Lilith, whom they overtook in the midst of the sea, in the mighty waters wherein the Egyptians were destined to drown. They told her God’s word, but she did not wish to return.

—Excerpt from Ben Sira’s Alphabet

But I mean, come on…Would you?

 

17 Days, 6 Hours, 32 Minutes

Right, so quick recap if your night was anything like mine, and why, yes, alcohol was involved. Sobriety and I aren’t really on speaking terms right now, but that’s a common theme around here lately. Especially the not speaking-to-me part.

Nope. Not bitter about it.

Anywho, the last time you and I chatted, I told you all about how I was set to die on Midsummer’s Eve and uncovered an insidious plot to subjugate fae and normals alike. Yep. That whole clusterfuck of doom revolving around Lilith, the elemental goddess of fire, who’d been imprisoned in an anathema, then secreted away in my chest when I was a kid. Yeah, that sucked. I appreciate the condolences.

But spoiler, I didn’t die. I did end up becoming fully fae and melding consciousnesses with her. Yup. For all intents and purposes, we’re pretty much the same person now, insofar as her memories feel exactly like mine, and I have to deal with whatever messes she still has lying around.

Trust me, there’s more than you’d think, and sharing my brain with a primordial deity sounds way cooler than it is. I mean, I guess we’re making it work—well, I’m making it work. She’s data dumping crap about my inherited past on a need-to-know basis. It’s irritating as fuck, but a hell of a lot better than what my erstwhile friends have got going on. Not that Morgana was ever my friend, but—

Why, yes, suckering her, Berk, and Kyle into letting elemental gods wear them like meat suits was entirely my fault. Thanks for reminding me about that little tidbit.

Guess I don’t have to go into my why-they’re-notspeaking-to-me spiel.

Ugh. Wise it. We’re not here to talk about that. I mean, not yet anyways. You wanted to know about the kid.

So, I know it’s gonna be a shocker after how smoothly Midsummer’s Eve and assimilating with Lilith had gone, but things took a nose dive prior to the blessed event. I mean, all Hell didn’t break loose for another seventeen days, but whatever.

It all started with a goddamned raven.

Yeah, a raven. Fae are stupid about technology, and what happened totally wasn’t my fault. I mean, Socks wouldn’t have tried to eat a text. Hmm? Oh, sorry. Socks is my snake. You know, the one from the Garden of Eden. What? No, it’s not his actual name, it ’s—look, you had to be there. We’re talking about him eating the messenger. Well, attempting it.

Anyways, when Brennan, my dae-licious baby daddy and I—Yep, he was still putting up with my shit, and yep, it surprised me, too—had gotten back to our cliff-top flat after the whole Midsummer’s debacle, it was seagull central. The miserable winged rats had taken over the place. Like, crap literally everywhere. Socks put the fear of God into them and developed a serious taste for birds in the process. Any stupid enough to land on the balcony had become a treat. So when the raven showed up, things got real, fast.

And let me tell you, it was pretty freaking funny seeing the imps go ape-shit trying to make him regurgitate the thing. Peter, Brennan’s head house imp, has pics of it somewhere, along with one of everything else. Talk about Christmas gift turned obsession, imps are so—

Oh, the bird was fine, I mean, it was bedraggled as all hell, but it took off quickly enough. Brennan wasn’t amused. Like, with anything aside from me since his fiend had been released. And after he read the snake slobbered note that’d been tied to the raven’s leg, his mood got even blacker.

“What’s wrong?” I’d watched the entire fiasco from bed. It was either there or the couch these days. No lie, I was freaking huge.

Brennan mussed his hair. It wasn’t slicked back anymore and was all messy, falling over his eyepatch. We were still negotiating his chin scruff. He was such a wimp about it being itchy. Still, half a sexy pirate was better than no sexy pirate.

Anyways, Brennan came over to lie against the pillows, lighting a cigarette. It flared. Crap. That was never good.

“My father ’s asking to meet you.”

Like I said, crap. Meeting the rest of his family had gone so well.

Not.

I didn’t exactly glare at him, but the whole anathema-in-my-chest, people-wanting-me-dead thing was still a little raw. I’d gone nine solid months racking up days without incident and wasn’t interested in breaking my streak.

He smiled like he knew what I was thinking and exhaled a fitful stream of smoke. “It won’t be anything like that, Lovely. Kennet has every reason to be as protective of you as I.” He gave me that crooked smile of his, caressing the massive tumor I’d been toting around on his behalf.

I thought about taking his hand off at the wrist.

What? Pirates have hooks. And newsflash, in case you’ve never had the pleasure, being pregnant straight-up fucking sucks.

Don’t look at me like that, I’m serious. The first few months are all about the vomit, followed by maybe three seconds where you’re rockin’ a cute bump. From there, it’s a quick slide into the bloated, sluggy shape of a certain George Lucas-inspired space-gangster. Then the damn kid drops down, and you’re straddling a bowling ball, waddling around like a constipated duck. Ironically, it’s mainly to the bathroom.

Ugh. I hated it. I’m supposed to be the gold bikini chick!

I know, I know, first fae born of fae in like, I don’t know, a couple millennia. Blah, blah, blah. Apparently, it was a huge deal. I didn’t care. I mean, I didn’t wish the little bastard any ill will—Yeah, all right, that wasn’t totally true. I was four days past my due date, and the longer it hung out in there, the more I thought about selling it to the circus. Oh my God, please. Like Brennan would let me. You should see the nursery he’d set up.

He was watching my face while all of this went through my head, and I could tell he was just freaking tickled. I hated him, too. Well, maybe not totally. It was hard to hate someone who spoiled the crap out of you. Karen, my version of Peter, might give foot massages to die for, but Brennan could work my hips like nobody’s business.

Yeah, I meant that the way it sounded.

I rolled onto my side, and he started rubbing one of them like I’d rung Pavlov’s bell. I wiggled a little hoping Brennan would ring mine. I’d read somewhere that sex can trigger labor, and that was a hell of a lot more palatable than shooting back castor oil. I swear they made shit up just to see how desperate pregnant women were.

Of course I tried it. And the match-by-the-toe crap.

Shut up.

Brennan laughed and kissed my temple. “Karen says any moment—”

“She’s been saying that for a week.” And yes, an imp was my obstetrician. We’d bridged that gap between Brazilian and baby. Brennan’s thumbs hit something just right, and I gave a little moan, tipping my rear.

“If you keep arching like that, this is going to digress rather quickly.” He kissed under my jaw. I arched more, and he chuckled low in his throat. “But you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Duh.

Being pregnant also kicked your libido into high gear. Well, mine anyways. He wasn’t complaining, and the situation did digress. Progress. Mmm. Like I said, man could work my hips. He was no slouch working his, either.

Anywho, the only response it triggered was my eyes rolling back into my head and a brief conversation with the Almighty. Not that that was anything to sneeze at. Guess we’d have to try that whole stimulating-labor deal again later. Aw, shucks.

So there I was, staring at the ceiling with a smile on my face. I should’ve just kept my mouth shut, but we all know that’s not one of my fortes.

“I thought you were tight with your dad before Amelda banded you.”

Hmm? Oh. Long story. Brennan’s mother used a fae-band to put a geas on him, locking away the fiend, aka his elemental nature. Needless to say, he has—well had, considering she’s dead too—mommy issues.

“Why are you upset your dad wants to meet me?”

“We were close”—Brennan reached for another cigarette—“but it’s the way he asked. He’s not coming as my father; he’s coming as the Gwinth’s representative.”

I still didn’t see the problem. The Gwinth leads the wild hunt, which is basically all the unredeemable nasties of Fae. Think of it as a prison work-release program, and he’s the warden, with a really stupid title.

I mean, who the heck wants to be known as the Gwinth?

You’d think—

Hmm? No, you’re not missing anything. I totally sealed off the Fae realms from Earth by filling the

Neither with crazy bug-zapper spray foam after I became. What? The Neither? It’s a veil between Earthand Fae. Kinda like that gross, super-thin onion-skin slime that’s not a part of the layers and only exists tomess with your tacos. Same deal with the Neither, but now everyone’s proverbial taco is safe, because ain’t nothin’ getting through what I flung in there.

Not that there’s a ton of fae left in the realms to request visas.

Brennan had once made a comment about elemental lords being assholes and lesser fae preferring to chill out on Earth. Little did I know at the time that the imps had put the word out, and ninety percent of Fae’s populace jumped ship when they heard what was going down. The wild hunt came along for the ride.

Yep. Fae had basically invaded.

Normals freaked. I suspect I couldn’t blame them. I mean, waking up to find a boggart in the kitchen would definitely ruin my day, but most of that had been sorted. Brennan ran a tight ship and laid down the law pretty early on; normals were not food, and using them as entertainment was frowned upon. The lethal kind, at least.

And to make sure no one “forgot” the rules, Brennan had struck a deal with the hunt to terrify the lesser fae into compliance and to put a stop to normals snuffing out halflings. See, Our Lady of the Blessed Inferno had gained a ridiculous amount of popularity after I’d been blamed for frying their base of operations, and piety of the genocidal kind was at an all-time high. Normals actually made freaking pilgrimages out to that stupid divot in the desert where the Priory had been. Seriously, and I’m talking bus tours. They’d declared it a holy site, which made no freaking sense. Ugh. You’d think they’d listen after their professed deity told them to fuck off.

And I had, verbatim. CNN was still airing the interview, and the sound bite was all over the internet. Trust me, I didn’t stutter.

No wonder God was all absentee, and He’d only burned a bush.

Whatever. I’d taken a page from His book, and so had Berk, Kyle, and Morgana. They had their own worshippers, too. Kyle was the only one who got off on it. Last I’d heard, he was set up with a harem of honeys in a Himalayan shrine, but that’d been months ago. He and Brennan had gotten into it after Kyle, who was the closest thing I’d ever gotten to a boyfriend, had accidentally-on-purpose poofed in on me in the shower.

Yeah, that didn’t go over well.

God, how the hell did we get here? Whoever tells you baby brain isn’t a real thing is full of crap. This stupid kid was literally sucking everything out of me but my will to live, and that was a fine line some days. It needed to freaking go. Like, get a job already.

What? Did I know if it was a boy or girl? Really?

We were talking about Brennan’s father coming as the Gwinth’s representative. Stop distracting me.

“Is him visiting a bad thing?”

“Potentially. Though it will be good to see him. It’s been a long time.” He smiled and his eye laughed at me.

Hmm? Oh. His half brother gouged the other one out in a mega-dick move that ended up with him dead. It’d grown back, but Brennan still couldn’t see out of it. Trying gave him a headache. “You’ll need to dress for dinner. Jonas, Stewie, and the other Riders will be here, too. If it’s a state visit, we need to show our strength.”

I groaned. Not because Brennan’s besties would be here. I just didn’t want to get dressed. And judging by the sky outside, I didn’t have a lot of time to do it.

Look, I’d never been big on clothes, until I was too big for my clothes, and I didn’t care if I had a super imp who could whip me up whatever. Maternity anything was ugly. Christ, even the word maternity is horrible. It sounds like some kind of an institution that comes with bars, just like marriage.

Whatever. I lugged my stupid stomach into the bathroom and let Karen do her magic.

So, as much as I’ve bitched about being massive, I gotta give credit where credit is due. Karen really was a super imp. By the time she’d finished with me, I looked like some kind of fertility goddess…which I guess I technically am, but it’s hard to remember that when you’re picking sour cream and onion chips out of your cleavage.

That had become even more impressive than usual, I might add. My boobs, not the chips.

Anyways, I wasn’t kidding about the goddess thing. Karen had swept my hair up and put me in some mauve, drape-y Grecian whatnot. Yeah, the color sucked, but after becoming, I’d lost the monochrome look and my seasonal skin tone had gone from a winter to a fall. She kept trying to expand my closet color-wise and knew she was pushing her luck with anything remotely pink. I glared at her, and she didn’t even try to get me into shoes.

Smart lady.

So, if you don’t remember, the flat is pretty much this big terrarium on a cliff in the middle of the ocean. All the walls are glass, and as soon as I hit the hall, five sets of eyes plus one followed my progress to the dining room. They all stood, rapt. Don’t ask me why, but apparently a pregnant fae is a serious turn-on. Brennan’s expression made me want to grab him by the lapels and drag him right back into bed. Jonas looked like he wanted to eat me, but he always looked like that. Him and the rest of the Riders. Well, not Stewie, but he was way into dudes and making some serious eyes at Brennan’s dad. I couldn’t fault him there. Kennet was a smokin’ hot older guy. Kind of a Sean Connery meets Robert Downey Junior. Brennan had said he’d been a Welsh chieftain before the hunt had picked him up. I could totally imagine him in a kilt instead of his khaki trousers and crisp polo. He definitely had this whole pagan badger vibe going on with his mullet and grey-streaked goatee. Is it weird that a mullet was sexy? On him it was.

He intercepted me on my way to Brennan with the same crooked grin. “And ye can be none other than Envy.” Yeah, he totally had that panty-dropping brogue. He took my hands in his, kissing my cheek. I blushed, and he gave a deep-throated laugh. “Gah, she’s a beaut. How the hell did a shite like ye land this one?”

“It was entirely her idea.” Brennan came to stand at my side, putting an arm around my waist.

I shifted my weight to lean against him, and he kissed my temple. The flash and wind of Peter’s camera sounded in the hall, and I tried not to roll my eyes.

Brennan caught my struggle and smiled. “Let’s find your seat, shall we, Lovely?” He escorted me over to the long ebony and chrome table and pulled out my chair. The Riders sat down as I did. Kennet took the seat across from me, and Brennan the one at the end, between us.

“No accounting for taste then.” Kennet smiled and gave me a wink.

I smiled back, and so did Brennan.

“None whatsoever, though I’m not about to correct her. We’ve a very satisfying arrangement.”

His father picked up the glass of scotch Peter had just poured him. “And what is that, exactly?”

“I think we’ve settled on intended.”

“Intentions are for shite. Ye need to snap her up before someone else does, laddie buck.”

“That’s entirely her choice.” Brennan’s voice had an edge to it that made me look up. He still had the fiend under wraps, but that became touch and go where I was concerned, and Kennet grunting like he didn’t agree wasn’t setting a great course for how this evening was gonna play out.

I think his dad knew. He tried to recover with a brilliant smile. “I’m starved! What’ve ye got t’eat? Nothing green, I hope.”

I looked over the dishes the imps were setting out, surprised. It was not our usual fare. Brennan’s tastes ran by way of French gourmet. This was pretty much Cracker Bucket take out. There were beans that might’ve once qualified as green, but they sure didn’t now.

Jonas winked at me from just past them, already loading his plate with meatloaf. I’d say out of all the Riders of the Apocalypse, he was probably the most intimidating with his piranha teeth, tusks, and scar-pocked hide, but after catching Brennan’s bestie and the other guys crocheting granny squares? Not so much. In their defense, the resulting blanket had a skull on it, but still. You can’t unsee that.

“Lookin’ real good, Miss Kitty,” he noted mid-mouthful.

“When you gonna pop that kitten?”

I glowered at him, and he laughed.

“Any time now,” Brennan said, filling his plate along with the others.

God, I was tired of hearing that. Peter put a salad in front of me, and I blessed him, though I was planning on snagging some of that mac-n-cheese, constipation be damned. Kennet moved the entire platter of country ham in front of himself. No one but me batted an eye.

“How’s huntin’?” Jonas asked him.

Kennet gave a little shrug, ignoring the fork and taking his own knife out from God knows where. He sliced and stabbed a chunk of meat, then nibbled on it as neat as you please. “Routed more of them fanatics. It’s like playin’ whack-a-mole, but the host enjoys it.”

I frowned as I chewed. Stupid cult. How the hell do you get people to unfollow you? I wished it was as easy as being banned from social media.

Don’t ask.

“Ye’ve done well with the lesser dae. Can’t say we’ve had much call t’keep them in line. Them damn naiads is another story. It’s like nobody’s runnin’ the bloody show for Water.”

“The holder of that anathema hasn’t transitioned well,” Brennan said, saving me from answering. He knew I felt like shit about the whole Morgana thing. Hmm? Yeah, seriously. It was bad. “Your note said you had the Gwinth’s business to discuss.”

Kennet finished chewing, then glanced over at him with a sigh. “Well, I suspect now’s as good a time as any. He’s sent me t’open up negotiations with Envy for her next consort.”

Crap.

The temperature in the room instantly dropped about thirty degrees and filled with murk and shadows.

Brennan’s eye glimmered like ice. “Envy is mine.”

“Then ye better put a ring on it.”

I laughed. Come on, Sean Connery quoting

Beyoncé? That’s freaking classic.

Oh, I guess I should explain. Fae queens are required to have a consort. Yet another stupid fae rule and part of the whole power-being-tied-to-fertility thing. Although I was about as graceful as a humpback in the Sahara right now, I could also command more power than I knew what to do with, and that filtered down to every other Fire elemental. While I carried Brennan’s child, he was my consort by default, but because I hadn’t made it official, as soon as I gave birth, I had a year and a day to choose my next consort. Conversely, if some wily fae managed to get me pregnant again before that, they would gain the title. Good fucking luck there. Fool me once, and all that.

Brennan wasn’t as amused. Like, at all. He pushed his plate away and lit a cigarette. It didn’t quite incinerate. “I did, and he’s a bit premature, don’t you think?”

“Banding isn’t the same, and ye damned well know it. In case ye hadn’t noticed, with the veil sealed up, there’s a dearth of fae ladies.”

He was right about that. Just me and Berk. Well, kind of Berk. He had the right equipment after merging with Mother Earth and the inclination for dudes had always been there, but wrapping his head around the mechanics of being in a female form was a whole ’nother story. I mean, he was pretty zen about the anathema turning him into a woman, all things considered, but definitely not up for dating.

Morgana? I don’t want to talk about her.

Brennan’s teeth gritted together at the “dearth of fae ladies” comment. “What’s your point?”

“S’what I told you, man. Normals ain’t gettin’ knocked up by us no more.” Jonas winked at me from around his mouthful of potatoes. “We’ve been tryin’ our damndest to do our civic duty and all, but no dice.”

Brennan stared daggers at him, and Jonas shrugged, going back to his plate.

I tried to chew real quiet.

Kennet turned to Brennan. “The Gwinth needs an heir, and he’s running out of time.” The temperature dipped again, like, enough for me to see my breath.

“Mind yerself, laddie. Ye know better. It’s politics, same as me and yer stepma. Don’t mean what’s between ye has t’change, save for whose babe she’s carryin’.”

Kennet took another bite of ham like he was totally at ease, but a bead of sweat was tracking down his temple, despite the chill.

With good reason. The shadows had thickened into a sentient darkness and begun threading across the table.

Oh, trust me, it was aware. With his fiend released,

Brennan acted as a kind of doorway for it, letting it in from wherever it hung out. I was pretty sure that wasn’t someplace you’d want to go on vacation. It listened to him, but the damned stuff took liberties when it thought it could get away with it. I mean, it always gave me a wide berth, but the rest of them weren’t so lucky. Case in point, a tendril flicked against Stewie’s forearm, and he flinched, making the gin fizz in his glass jump as he went to take a sip. It was totally messing with him, independent of Brennan’s will.

He wasn’t having it. Brennan stood, slamming his hands down onto the table, scattering it back to the corners of the room. He yelled at Kennet in some rough, guttural language. His father’s face spiked red, and he answered in kind. The Riders all subtly shifted in their seats.

Me? I sat there, feeling sick.

Look, I told you, the Gwinth is like the warden for the wild hunt. He’s under some geas that allows him to hold them together, you know, keep them focused on whatever their chosen prey might be. It’s a tough job. So tough that he gets serious burnout, and every couple hundred years the geas needs to be passed on, along with the ridiculous title, to an heir of his body. That’s another of those stupid fae rules. Pretty sure Water came up with that one; they’re big on nepotism.

So what did this have to do with me? If the Gwinth couldn’t pass on the geas, it would kill him. That would give all those fae nasties a get out-of-jail-free card. That was bad. Like, releasing a couple hundred bloodthirsty psycho fae on unsuspecting normals bad, and according to those same stupid fae rules—

“Och! Ye damned well know once she has yer babe, she’s back on the table!”

My head snapped around to glare at Kennet. I might’ve hissed. Everyone at the table looked at me like I did. “You can stop talking about me like I’m not here, and I’m not some freaking broodmare. I don’t see how any of this is my problem. I might be the only female fae this side of the veil, but he’s not the only male I could choose as consort.”

Okay, so I totally could see how it was my problem,

I mean, potentially. Having all those degenerate fae running amok would be bad for everyone, but I’m not exactly a take-one-for-the-team kind of gal. Kennet glared at Brennan, running a hand through his hair as he sat back down. “The Gwinth disagrees. He’s setting this as his wergild for ye trapping the hunt here.”

I laughed. Guess who didn’t.

“You expect us to believe he’s just thinking of the succession now?” Brennan seethed, dropping into his chair. His glass of cognac had a rime of ice coating it. I couldn’t remember ever seeing him so pissed. It was almost scarier than hot.

“Nay, but ye damn well know the Cleansing wiped out nearly every halfling this side of the veil, and his other get are back in Fae. As long as he’s trapped here, none can assume his mantle.”

My pulse was very loud in my ears. Being reminded of the halfling genocide that’d been kicked off courtesy of my mother didn’t help. Neither did knowing that the handful of halflings still breathing were on lockdown with the lesser fae. Yeah. “For their safety.” True though it might be, it was still a raw fucking deal.

What the hell was it with me and unintended consequences? Literally, all I’d wanted to do was leave all that fae bullshit behind me. Well, that and screw a bunch of people over in the process, but it wasn’t supposed to screw me back even figuratively, never mind in the biblical sense. My stigmata crackled across my skin. Kennet’s gaze jumped to me, and I locked it down with mine.

“The Gwinth can go fuck himself. He should’ve been in the Fae realms with them. It’s not my job to bail out his dumb ass.”

The look of sorrow that crossed Kennet’s face was a surprise. So was the ultimatum he slapped down. “He thought ye might feel that way. I’m t’tell ye that he’ll allow ye time t’have the babe, then he’ll release one of the huntsmen every night until ye agree to let him pay ye court.”

Allow me? My blood pressure went through the—

Every glass in the room exploded, and Kennet landed on his back, still in his chair. Brennan had gone over the table and held the man’s own knife to his throat.

Yeah…like I said, Brennan’s control over his fiend had gotten dicey. His dad was a hell of a lot calmer than he had any right to be.

“Ye really want it t’go this way, lad?”

“There’s not a fucking chance that son of a bitch is getting anywhere near Envy. I don’t care who or how many he releases. He’ll not be blackmailing her into his bed.” Brennan spat to the side and pushed off him. The knife clattered to the ground.

He moved to my side and put a hand on my shoulder, watching his father pick himself up. Brennan’s breath came fast, and his touch was so cold it burned. The Riders circled behind Kennet, all of them grim. He shook glass out of his hair and laughed, regardless of the cuts peppering his skin.

“As ye said, that’s entirely her choice.” His eyes met mine. “He’s giving ye till the first sunset after the babe comes t’decide. He’ll send a raven for yer answer; try t’keep the serpent from the next one.” Then that brilliant smile crossed his face, and his cheek dimpled at Brennan. “Well done gettin’ the drop on me, laddie. Next time ye won’t find it so easy.”

“Next time you’ll be dead.”

His father’s eyes freaking sparkled. “There’s a good lad.”

And poof, he was gone.