Otherworld Renegade. Jane Godman
vampire’s eyes flickered briefly with surprise before she froze, becoming a statue of loveliness.
“She has some nasty friends.” Jethro was struggling to his feet. “And they won’t be far behind. Let’s free Dimitar and get out of here.”
He turned to where Dimitar hung in his manacles. The halt command had worked on him as well and he was frozen in position, his mouth open, revealing new, fully formed fangs. Even behind the mask of blood that covered Jethro’s swollen features, Lorcan could see the pain on his face.
“They did this to him because of me. He lost his immunity when he switched allegiance. I won’t leave him here for them.” The words were wrenched from Jethro.
“We can’t risk taking a vampire with us. He will want to feed.” Ali’s voice echoed high and panicky around the dungeon.
“I want to get him out of here so I can stake and decapitate him. That way he can rest in peace instead of being in torment for all eternity.” Jethro’s response was hard, flat and—some might have said—uncaring.
Lorcan gestured to Ali for the keys and, once the manacles were opened, Jethro hoisted Dimitar’s stiffened frame onto his shoulder.
“These tunnels will take us beneath the city and closer to the coast.” With Ali in the lead, they made a silent, cautious trek through the tunnels. Some time later they exited out into the mimosa-scented Moroccan night.
“There is a fishing boat waiting near the lighthouse. It will take you to Barcelona. Until we meet again, necromancer.” Ali clasped Lorcan’s hand. The little sidhe gave Jethro, who still carried Dimitar’s body, a wide berth. Lorcan began to walk toward the beach. He was halted in his tracks when Ali called out softly. “I almost forgot! You asked us to let you know if anything happened to Princess Tanzi.”
“Yes?” Lorcan’s heart gave an uncomfortably loud thud. Just when he thought he’d trained it not to do that at the mention of her name. “What about her?”
“Word came from Otherworld earlier today. She has disappeared.”
Running away from home. Surely more the action of an angst-riddled teen than a mature adult? And certainly not one upon whom the political future of her dynasty depended. But Tanzi had agonized over her options before making this decision. There was no one in whom she could confide.
Vashti was recovering well from the injuries she had sustained during the battle, but she was still weak. And could her sister be trusted not to share Moncoya’s feelings in this matter? Although they were twins, they had never been close. We are too different. She sees black and white, I see color. We both choose the fast lane, but she focuses on the road ahead, while I enjoy the scenery. Vashti is our father’s daughter. I am said to take after the mother we never knew. No, Tanzi could not share her plight with Vashti.
Her instincts told her she could trust Cal and Stella. Intuition and certainty were two very different things, however. Did she want to give them more proof of her father’s depravity, even if it might lead to protection from the marriage he planned for her? The faeries were in turmoil, unsure of their loyalties, their confidence in tatters. Every day further proof of atrocities under Moncoya’s leadership emerged, yet he was still revered by his people. Tanzi felt the weight of her responsibility to the faerie dynasty and her sidhe heritage. She could not publicly denounce her father, no matter how villainous his latest scheme might be.
That left her with only one option. If she was to avoid this marriage, she had to get away from Otherworld. She must put her trust in Cal to do the right thing for the faeries in her absence. There was only one person she could turn to. As crazy as it seemed, Tanzi was going to put Lorcan Malone’s promise to the test.
The decision to seek refuge with him, once made, brought her a whole new set of problems. How would she find him? He had told her he would know if she needed him. But that must have been bravado. Something to impress the girl he had just rescued. Necromancers did not possess psychic powers. No, she would have to go in search of him. It was a daunting prospect. She knew little of the mortal realm. The only times she had interacted with humans in their own world had been when she was sent by her father to attack, assassinate or kidnap them.
There was talk of a place in Barcelona, a resistance safe house. So well guarded it was impossible to gain entrance unless you knew the right people. Cal was known to be a resistance sympathizer, so perhaps his best friend also had links with the freedom fighters. La Casa Oscura, the dark house that led from the mortal realm to her father’s Otherworld palace, was also a conduit in the opposite direction. It would take her directly to the mortal city of Barcelona. If she went there and asked for Lorcan, perhaps she could get a message to him. It wasn’t much of a plan, but it was all she had.
Moncoya had always forbidden his daughters from using the portal. He had instilled in them a fear of the mortal realm that remained strong in Tanzi, teaching them that the earth-born were the enemy of the fae. Those thoughts persisted as she made her plans to leave. Not that she did much planning. She didn’t have time. Moncoya would act swiftly. Tanzi must do the same.
That was how, two days after her meeting with Moncoya, she came to be standing on the Barcelona quayside, surrounded by a growing crowd of interested sailors, dock workers and one or two tourists. Patiently, Tanzi repeated the message she had rehearsed.
“I need Lorcan Malone.”
“Is it a publicity stunt? A trailer for a new film, maybe?” a passing tourist asked her husband. “I’m sure I know her face. Isn’t she that American actress, the one who won all those awards recently? She’s just as stunning in real life, and that outfit she has on must be worth a fortune.”
Damn. She hadn’t thought the wardrobe aspect through. Hadn’t thought anything much through. Once she had decided to go she had done just that and gone, pausing only to stuff a few items of clothing into an overnight bag. Until now, she hadn’t given what she was wearing a second thought. The delicate lemon lace dress with its full, knee-length skirt and layers of petticoats was perfect for the dinner she had been about to attend with Cal, Stella and a number of Otherworld dignitaries. Her nude heels, piled-up hair, and understated makeup and jewelry were all precisely matched to the dress. It was what people expected of Princess Tanzi, Otherworld fashion icon. Instead of going to the dinner, she had thrown a soft, calf-skin jacket over the dress and marched out of her old life forever. With hindsight she should have taken the time to match her outfit to the new location.
“Necesito Lorcan Malone.” Was she pronouncing his name wrong in their language? Did he use an alias when he was here? The faces of those around her remained blank.
A sailor staggered close. “You can call me Lorcan Malone, querida. Before, during and after.” The eye-watering alcohol fumes on his breath caused Tanzi to take a step back. He followed, reaching out a hand to grip her arm. When she shrugged him off, he lost his balance and staggered, cursing. Tanzi didn’t dare hit him. One blow and she’d break his neck. She couldn’t risk drawing that sort of attention to herself. Unfortunately.
There were too many people around her, and anywhere in this city was too close to La Casa Oscura. Her father’s spies were everywhere. Walk away, head down. Find somewhere quiet to come up with a better plan. Whatever you do, don’t draw any more attention to yourself. All good advice. Putting it into practice wasn’t going to be easy. The heels were not designed for a swift getaway. Note to self...if you find yourself in this situation again, raid Vashti’s street-inspired wardrobe before leaving.
As Tanzi left the quayside—acutely aware of the small group of men following in her wake—the sheer magnitude of her error became instantly apparent. Barcelona wasn’t just a big city. It was enormous. Crowds thronged the pavement and traffic was bumper to bumper in the street. Noise, life, color and smell all assailed her senses at once, stunning her into immobility. Buildings spread out around her, stretching high onto the hillsides as far as the eye could see. A laugh rose in her throat and met a