1

The summons reverberates through my body like a drumbeat. I haven’t been called in almost a year, but I recognize the sensation instantly. One of the charmed objects I’ve handed out in the mortal world has been activated.

Good timing, because I’m weary of this party. My cousin Torin insisted I accompany him tonight, even though I was feeling morose and useless and I would rather have stayed home. As it turned out, the gathering he had in mind was practically an orgy—not my scene, but what Torin thinks I need.

I enjoy elegant parties with fine feasts and beautiful clothes. I’m less interested in mushrooms, group sex, and heady cocktails than Torin is, so I’ve been lounging on a sofa, watching him grind with every available female—and most of the males too. Torin is more like my father than his… or at least he resembles my father in his younger days, when he was careless and wild. Sometimes I envy my cousin. Not a thought in his head but having fun .

For my part, I would like my life to mean something. So I rejoice inwardly when the magical summons drums through my brain and blood.

Someone needs me, at last.

I lunge off the couch and approach Torin, touching his shoulder. He whirls around and almost kisses me on the mouth before he realizes who I am. He laughs, wine-drunk and wicked.

“Come to join the fun at last, Killian?” He hooks an arm around my neck and pulls me into a side-hug.

“I have to go.”

“Spoilsport.”

“You’ll have plenty of sport without me.” I ruffle his black hair. Even though Torin is a head taller than me, he’s two decades younger. My mother and his are sisters, and our fathers are cousins. The circumstances of my birth were unusual, but his birth was even more dramatic, and he possesses a unique set of gifts as a result.

Since both of us have human blood and unusual talents, we’ve always been close. Sometimes I feel closer to him than to my older sister úna.

Torin looks at me keenly, a momentary awareness cutting through his haze of mushrooms and wine. “You’ve been summoned.”

“Yes.”

“Be careful.” His vivid blue eyes pierce mine.

“Always.”

“Good, because if you die, I’ll be stranded on this island, and I’ll be forced to barter my gorgeous body for enough magic to get home.”

“I’ll be back for you tomorrow,” I promise.

“I’ll fuck an extra girl on your behalf.” He winks and turns back to his companions.

A few Faeries bid me goodbye as I make my way out of the crystal mine. Torin and I are not on the main continent of Faerie, but on one of the outlying islands. Thanks to my gift, I can travel easily from Faerie to the mortal realm, or from point to point within either realm. It’s a talent I occasionally offer to my uncle Lirannon, High King of Faerie, when he needs to travel himself or if he must send an ambassador to an outlying province. But most often I travel alone, or I bring Torin with me. Without my cousin, I’m afraid I might become rather contemplative and dull.

The crystal mines of Sybaris Island are one of my cousin’s favorite places to experience a thoroughly debauched revel. The semi-precious stones sprouting from cavern walls thrum with sensual energy, their colors growing warmer and richer as the party continues and the activities turn more lecherous. Any orgasms experienced in their vicinity are enhanced and echoed, lending a secondary thrill of pleasure to everyone within the crystals’ sphere of influence.

I leave the pink and orange glow of the mines and walk a few steps into the dark forest. The frenzied music, the laughter, and the chaos fade as I turn my attention inward and focus on the spell that’s summoning me.

Now that I’m alone in the quiet, I can feel the agony of the one who summoned me. This mortal has suffered deeply. They are teetering on the brink of ultimate despair, almost ready to give up on everything, including life itself.

They need me.

When my eyes are closed, I can see my destination in my mind, and I can decide where I want to appear. In this case, the location is a barn, and I choose a dark corner as my entry point. Then I create a portal and step through.

I emerge in a gloomy, rundown building, illuminated by a couple of lanterns. The smell of cows and goats hangs thickly in the steamy air. A young woman moves among the animals, speaking to them in the sweetest, softest tones I’ve ever heard. Her voice is like a blanket, like the warm sun in the dead of winter, like a tender flower blooming out of black ice .

For a moment I simply watch her. It’s a pleasure to observe her interacting with the beasts. She seems like a gentle soul.

She milks one of the cows, then inspects another cow, touching its flank where a wound festers. “That looks painful, sweet thing,” she murmurs. “We’ll have to get the farrier out here to look at you. Not sure where we’ll find the money to pay him, but…”

I can’t bear the ache in her voice, the strain of worry and deprivation. Now is the perfect moment to introduce myself and allay those worries.

“If you’ll allow me,” I say quietly, stepping forward.

The girl startles visibly, covering her mouth, but she doesn’t scream. “What the actual fuck?”

Her voice is sharper now, almost caustic, and her body goes rigid with defensiveness and suspicion.

I chuckle at the dramatic shift in her personality. “I always try to avoid startling people, but I rarely succeed. Mortals can be so terribly jumpy. You’re doing very well though. You haven’t screamed yet, so…”

I stretch out my hand toward the cow, intending to heal it, but the girl grabs a pitchfork and pokes it at me. The sharp tines slash my clothing and scrape against my skin.

Well then. She has far more spirit and fire than I first gave her credit for. My cock stirs slightly at the sight of her poised there, pitchfork at the ready and blue eyes afire. She is definitely prepared to impale me.

It takes a few careful words and a demonstration of my magic to ease her fears a little. During the conversation that follows, I try to ignore my body’s reaction to her, determined to focus solely on why I’ve been summoned. She’s in trouble, but she doesn’t trust me enough to tell me everything. Instead, she asks to attend a royal ball.

My mind begins to whirl instantly, playing through various colors that might complement her skin tone, designing the most fabulous gowns I can imagine. This job is going to be delightful. Not only do I have the loveliest of subjects, but she wishes me to do what I do best—design clothing for her. I couldn’t have chosen a more perfect task to pull me out of the rut I’ve been in lately.

That’s what I’ll fix my mind on—the creative element of the mission. Not the fact that this girl is violently angry and in excruciating emotional pain. Not the fact that the more savagely she speaks to me, the more I want to pull her close and kiss her until she melts—or, if she prefers, allow her to spend her rage on my body through a brutal fucking.

Torin would applaud such lecherous thoughts. “So proud of you,” he would croon.

But I am a being of great power, in proximity to a desperate young woman. I’m not above flirting shamelessly with her, but I won’t fuck her unless she conceives of the idea and suggests it herself.

When I return to the crystal mine, I don’t go inside. Instead I wander the woods until dawn arrives, and then I enter the cavern, pluck Torin’s sleeping body out of the nest of naked Fae he has made for himself, and carry him home.