Chapter 15

Izael wasn't quite sure what to do with himself.

He had about twenty-four hours to live.

What an odd concept. He had lived several hundred years at this point—and suddenly it all felt like a blink of an eye. So much he hadn't done—so much he still wanted to do. But that path was gone from him now.

He was going to die.

For the woman he loved.

How noble. How utterly heroic.

By the Morrigan, he hated it.

It was charming, in an odd way, to think that he was going to die "heroically." And rather ridiculous, when one thought about it. He was Unseelie! He was the Duke of Bones! He had no right, dying like that. Especially when nobody was going to know about it.

Maybe he could convince Puck or Abigail to build a statue of him. How lovely would that be? It wasn't like anyone else would know of how good his death would be. The humans would never know of the charming and mighty snake who had saved their world.

Saved their world under duress, sure—but he was still going to save it. That was what counted, right? It had to be.

Tucking his dark teal tie into his black Jacquard vest, he smoothed the fabric and smiled at his own reflection. He did look good, didn't he?

It would be his last night on Earth. His last night out on the town. And he intended to make it count. He had purchased—fine, stolen—a dress for Alex to wear. It was a stunning sheath dress, matching his vintage style, and black with dark purple stitching. When she walked out of the bathroom wearing it, he knew he had chosen correctly.

She smiled sheepishly at him. "I feel like an idiot in this outfit."

"You look phenomenal." It took everything in him to keep his mouth from watering. Her cheeks went just the barest bit pink as he walked up to her. He flicked his forked tongue out between his lips, scenting the air. She was sad. Nervous. But there was a hint of something else, something close to desire that he couldn't name. It wasn't excitement. Not exactly. It honestly perplexed him.

But whatever it was, it tasted delicious. He kissed her, careful not to smear her dark cherry lipstick, loving how starkly the nearly-black, crimson shade contrasted with her pale skin. Flawless. He could not have dreamt up a better woman in his wildest dreams.

All right, fine. Her as an Unseelie had topped this, with her curled horns and pale purple skin. But her true human self was certainly second best. Taking her hand, he pulled her into a dance, miming the steps to a slow swing song that wasn't playing.

"Can we at least take the collar off for tonight? I'd like to hear the music." She went along with him as he twirled her before pulling her back.

"Your ears work."

"I mean really hear the music."

"Hm." Pondering it for a moment, he shrugged. "Well, I suppose what's the harm. You turn a whole jazz club into birds or hypnotize them into being your devoted slaves. I suppose we can't be any more dead than we already will be, come the morning." Very well. With a snap of his fingers, it unclasped from her neck.

The look on her face was one of such relief and happiness, it brought his dance to a stop. Shaking her head, she looked away. "Sorry." Her eyes were painted a dark, misty purple, shaded at the edges with blue. A perfect example of how women preferred to wear their makeup some eighty years earlier, if certainly never in that color combination.

"What is it?" He frowned, turning her back to look at him.

"It's—I guess I didn't realize how much I missed it. The music." She chuckled and looked away, still trying to hide from his scrutiny. He didn't allow it. With a crooked finger under her chin, he brought her face back toward him.

"Songbird."

"Sorry. There's no point in getting sappy. There's a reason I couldn't wish away my magic—I want it. I don't want to lose it. I love hearing the world like this—the sound of everything. Of life." She rested her palms on his chest, idly toying with the edge of his lapel. "I've really missed it."

"We will need to put the collar back on when we return to Tir n'Aill. We must look like everything is going as planned." That put a frown on his face. "I am sorry."

"It's fine. Considering that it'll be shortly before we get splattered all over the countryside by Valroy, it'll be the least of my concerns." She smirked.

"That's the spirit." Wrapping his arms around her, he clasped his hands by the small of her back and held her close. "Can I tell you how utterly cross I am with you, though?"

"What'd I do now?" She arched an eyebrow.

"You've made me the hero. I'm going to die as the good guy." Making a face, he stuck out his tongue. "It's disgusting. Utterly horrendous and insulting. It's against every proper law of nature."

Laughing, she reached up and tucked a loose strand of his sea-green hair behind his ear. He liked looking rakish—and tried very hard to be just on the mussed side of perfectly put together. "You're right. It's not a good look for you."

"I know! That's what I'm saying!" he whined. "But at least tonight, we can dance—we can get entirely smashed on alcohol—and I can finally, finally hear you sing."

"I never did actually agree to that." She poked him in the middle of his chest. When he stuck out his lower lip in his best childlike pout, her stern expression cracked into a smile. "Fine, fine. I'll sing."

"I wasn't really going to give you an option, you know."

"I know." Her smile didn't falter. "I—I know I'm not supposed to say this, but I'm going to anyway. Fuck it."

"You say that all the time."

"That's not what I was—" She sighed. "Don't ruin the moment."

"We're having a moment?" It was his turn to arch his eyebrow.

"Iz."

He did love the nickname. Smiling patiently, he let her speak.

"What I was trying to say was this. Thank you."

"Dangerous."

"What the fuck's the worst that can happen now? You're already going to have my soul. I'm going to die. What's one more favor?" Alex rolled her eyes and went to pull out of his grasp. He wouldn't allow it, keeping her stuck. She was being bashful again. By all the gods above and below, she was adorable when she was being bashful.

"What am I being thanked for?"

"I know you've been trying your best. For me. You've been going about it like a, well, like an asshole—but you're Unseelie. I suppose that's part of the gig."

He huffed, feigning insult, but his smile wasn't kidding anyone.

"Anyway, I don't know. We have fun together. The most fun I've had in years. I enjoy my time with you. I just…I'm sad it's coming to an end. So, I just wanted to say thanks. For the laughs."

"And the epic sex."

Clearly wanting to hide how funny she thought that was, she rested her forehead against his chest. "Don't ruin it, Iz."

"Me? The Duke of Bones? Ruin a charming, emotional moment?" Bending down, he scooped her up without warning, carrying her in his arms like a human bride being carried across the threshold. She squeaked in surprise. With an ear-to-ear grin, he finished his reply. "Always."

She kissed him. Gently. Sweetly.

It almost broke his heart.

Growling, he looked up at the ceiling. No, he would not cry. He would not. He refused! First, she had debased him by making him honorable. And now she was going to make him cry again? No. No! He would not allow it. "Tonight is meant to be a celebration. We are going to paint the streets red, my dear, and then I am going to take you to my home and fill every hole you own until you beg me for mercy."

That had her cheeks reddening.

She put her hand on his chest. "I'm not ready to go yet."

"What do you need to do? You look fine."

Chuckling, she wriggled until he put her on her feet. She tugged her dress down her legs, straightening it back out. "I need to talk to Puck."

"But—" Izael felt paranoia rising instantly. "Why?"

"Don't give me that look. It's about Pumpkin." She walked out of the bedroom, heading toward the main living space. "I can't just leave him here without knowing he'll be okay."

Scratching the back of his neck, he followed her into the living room. That made sense, he supposed. But he disliked bringing the half-breed into anything. It always complicated matters. "Be wary of what we tell him."

"Why?" Alex sat on her sofa, reaching out to scratch the head of the cat in question. Pumpkin let out a mrrp before yawning and shifting to curl up closer to her. "I'm betting he's eavesdropping, anyway."

"Am I that predictable?" Puck appeared in a blink, sitting in a chair in the living room across from Alex.

Izael grimaced. Despite their…moments, he deeply disliked the half-breed.

"Kind of?" Alex chuckled. "Hi, Puck."

"I'll have to try harder to be random." The silver-eyed, silver-haired fae grinned back at her. "So! How's the suicide pact planning going?"

"Do you have any other ideas?" Alex seemed to adapt to Puck's nature far easier than Izael. She might even be a little fond of the half-breed. That thought made Izael dislike the other fae even more, if it were possible. "If so, I'm all ears."

"Nah, sorry. I'm all out of clever plans." Puck paused, his chipper demeanor turning dour. "I'm sorry. But limiting the blast radius of all this is the right thing to do."

Alex took a moment to watch Pumpkin as she petted the orange ball of fur. "Are you going to warn Abigail?"

"I would, if I thought you actually stood a chance. But no. No need to get her all worked up over this. Besides, she's fond of you, Alex—she'd meddle and slam the brakes on the whole thing. Which means Valroy would learn what was happening, you'd get clapped in irons and chained to the front of the Unseelie war machine, yadda-yadda-yadda, everybody dies." Puck gestured dismissively. "It's a shitty timeline."

"Sounds it." Alex paused again, her shoulders slumping just slightly as she clearly braced herself for what she needed to say. "Puck, can you take care of Pumpkin when we're gone? I don't want him to go back on the street. He likes it here. And he deserves a home."

"That little shit owes me twenty bucks, so sure." Puck plopped his feet up on the coffee table.

Izael walked up to the half-breed to shove his feet off the furniture. Izael did it all the time, but it was his right. Puck was an interloper.

The silver-eyed fae huffed and crossed his legs underneath him instead, muttering something under his breath that Izael was happy he didn't catch.

"How does a cat owe you twenty bucks?" Alex laughed, bemused.

"He cheated at chess. Lost the match."

"I did not lose, I walked away." Pumpkin replied, yawning. "A boring opponent is not a worthy one."

Alex's expression was one of vague horror. She was still adjusting to "hearing" animals talk. Especially since Pumpkin wasn't particularly talkative, and the moments were few and far between. "That's still so fucking weird."

Puck ignored her and replied to the cat. "No, you picked up my king in your mouth and put it underneath the fridge. That's cheating. You lost."

Pumpkin didn't reply, except to lift his rear leg and start cleaning his asshole.

Cats.

Puck rolled his eyes. "Whatever. You still owe me twenty bucks." He turned his attention back to Alex. "I'll make sure he's safe. I promise. I'd take him back to Tir n'Aill to live with Abigail, but cats are definitely Unseelie."

Alex snickered. "That's fair."

"And who knows!" Puck grinned, pushing to his feet. "Maybe you'll win. Maybe you'll kill Valroy and Abigail, and then the Duke here ends up being the Unseelie King." There was a beat before he busted out laughing.

Alex was trying not to laugh as well, but the feeling of impending doom was probably keeping that at bay. Izael wanted her all to himself—for as little time as they had left. "All right. Your business is concluded. The cat will be fine. Now go away, Puck."

The silver-haired fae looked up at him with a pout. "But I wanna go to the club."

"No." He glowered back.

"I'll tell you what, Puck. If we live, we'll go to the jazz club, all three of us." She stood from the chair, smoothing her dress down again. "Iz just wants to spend as much time alone as possible, given the situation."

"Alone together. In a crowd of people." Puck wrinkled his nose. "That doesn't make any sense."

Alex chuckled and walked over to Izael, hugging his arm. He smiled down at her. At least she understood. "It shouldn't, but trust me, it's a thing. Well, I'm…sure we'll see you before all this is over." She smiled over at the half-breed. "You're a good friend, Puck. I really appreciate it."

Puck let out a breath. "I'm gonna miss you kids. You're fun."

"I have a favor to ask of you," Izael tried not to get sick at the statement. "One that you must understand I'll be too dead to repay."

The half-breed smirked. "You want me to cause a distraction while you're trying to get to the center of the Maze. Valroy needs to be preoccupied or else he'll just squish you the moment you set foot in there."

Izael blinked. Anger at being correctly predicted took over before he remembered that the little bastard could travel through time. "Yes. Exactly."

"Sure." The other fae shrugged. "But I'm doing it for her, not you. I'll keep an eye on you. The moment you go to the Maze, I'll go…cook up some drama. But I can't guarantee how much time you'll have."

Alex smiled at him with genuine fondness. "It'll give us the best shot we have."

"Yeah, yeah." Puck grumbled. "I still hate this, but whatever. All right, enjoy the club. Good luck, try not to eat too many humans, Iz." Puck cackled at the use of Alex's nickname for him before disappearing in a blink.

"I hate him." Izael grimaced.

"I know. But he's being helpful. He's doing his best." She hugged his arm tighter, smiling at him, trying to cheer him up. "I'm glad he's on our side."

"Having that thing on your side always means that there's something terrible about to happen." Izael huffed. "Usually, I enjoy the attention. But this time, I think I would prefer to be less interesting."

"You ‘n me both. I guess this is what I get for wanting to be important." She sighed. "Enough moping. C'mon. You wanted to go out? Let's go out. I think I'd like to get a little drunk tonight."

With a grin, he couldn't help but crack a joke. She'd left the door wide open for him. "Your wish is my command."