But there will never be a wedding, and you will never treat me as anything other than your whore.Faye wasn’t sure whether she’d said it or not, but if she had, Finn showed no sign of having heard her. Instead, he dipped his head, watching herwith devilment in his eyes, and kissed her slowly, tortuously, making her writhe in the sheets.
‘Don’t forget me.’ He smiled, looking up at her, denying her pleasure now. ‘The King of Murias awaits you at your pleasure, Faye Morgan. If you desire Murias, it desires you. Only by admitting your desire for me will you find your way back here.’
She opened her eyes, feeling the heat in her body and the wild beating of her heart as magic resonated in her bones and thrummed electric under her skin. Desire was the way back, but she’d made her choice.
As London’s grey morning light infused her cells and readjusted them back to mundanity, she felt shame that she hadn’t thought of Aisha once in the dream. Lyr had offered her a way to rescue her. Yet, Lyr’s way was as cold as his seduction and abandonment of Moddie. Faye wouldn’t subject another woman to that, and especially not the innocent child that she’d be required to donate to the faerie, to fight in a war, as a decoy, as meat, to be sacrificed for another, more favoured child.
That was no fate for anyone.
24
Faye could hear the music from two streets away and almost turned back more than once before reaching the club where the London covens were holding their annual Samhain party.
It was pronouncedsow-in, the old Celtic name for what was now Halloween. In the old pagan days, it was the festival announcing the onset of winter, and traditionally the time when the division between the ordinary world and the otherworlds – the elemental lands of faerie, the spiritual origin of nature and the lands of the dead – were easiest to transgress. Samhain was the night witches remembered loved ones that were in spirit, and traditionally, it was a night for divination and all kinds of mediumship, being that it was so much easier than usual to talk to the ones in the next world.
At home, Faye always set a place for Grandmother and Moddie at the dinner table, sharing stories and memories of them with Annie. Then they would usually read each other’s cards for the year ahead and walk down to Black Sands Beach to dance under the moon, perform a ritual they had planned out in advance, or just sit companionably and watch the waves.
Yet tonight, as the city’s children dressed as ghouls and wizards and collected sweets door-to-door, Faye found herself standing outside the wide steel doors of a club on the south side of the river, uncomfortable in a pair of black stiletto-heeled boots and a short black dress that she was glad her coat hid. As it was Samhain, she’d made her makeup darker and more dramatic than usual, and curled her reddish auburn hair into long ringlets. Tonight, Rav was going to some work drinks again – he’d asked her if she wanted to come.It’s Halloween! Your thing, right?he’d asked, but she’d explained she had a Samhain celebration to attend. He’d looked disappointed, but not enough to persuade her not to go.
As she stood there, Faye gazed up at the stars. The night was dark, velvet, magical. The deep layers of the past spread out in black-gold layers; each star, each tree, each leaf a door to another life, another time. Samhain always gave her this special feeling; it was a time of magic, when anything could happen, when the otherworlds were close, and slippage could occur.
Faye was waiting for Annie and Susie. Annie had suggested they invite the cast ofCoven of Love‘for research’, but in actuality the guest list was too exclusive: only members of London covens or their approved friends and contacts were permitted, and no one without one of the ornately foiled tickets got past the two tall, tattooed men on the door. Ruby had organised tickets for Annie, Susie and Faye.
She tried not to stare at the people filing into the club, but in some cases, it was hard not to look twice. Not everyone was hiding their evening wear under a long coat, and in fact, if anyone apart from Ruby at theCoven of Loveset had attended, their preconceptions would only have been confirmed: tonight, there were plenty of floor-length gowns, velvet or otherwise. Faye was reminded of the faerie ball in Murias, where some attendees wore elaborate fae costumes with wings, leatherleaves and flower crowns; some wore gothic outfits that fitted the stereotype of the witch or wizard, with black cloaks and pentagrams hanging from their necks.
Yet also, there were a number of other amazing looks and outfits, from prom dresses with delicate fascinators to a man with a pink Mohican who, Faye could see as he removed his jacket to enter, was stripped to the waist and wearing only a pair of sequinned shorts. The variety of London’s witches was staggering.
‘Wondered if I’d see you here.’ Faye felt a hand on the small of her back and turned to see Gabriel Black, who was dressed in his trademark black tailored suit and white shirt, but this evening had the addition of a black bowler hat and red pocket handkerchief. ‘May I escort you into the ball, Miss Morgan?’
‘Hi, Gabriel. Looking sharp.’ Faye gave him a shy kiss on the cheek.
‘Ah, well. One must do what one can,’ he demurred. ‘Are you waiting for someone?’
‘My friend Annie and her girlfriend. You can wait with me, though.’
‘I’d be delighted.’ He took the pocket handkerchief out, refolded it and replaced it in its pocket. ‘How are you?’
‘Okay.’ She sighed. ‘You?’
‘I think we’ve gone past the social niceties by now,’ Gabriel replied, nodding and smiling at some people going in. ‘Customers,’ he said, by way of explanation.
‘Most of the coven will be here tonight. I know you told Ruby, but are you going to mention your adventures in Falias to them, or…?’
‘If you don’t mind, I’d like to keep it between us. For now, at least. It’s personal.’ She frowned, wondering if she should tell the rest of the coven. But she wasn’t a real member and, she rationalised, she didn’t owe them anything.
‘Of course.’ Gabriel nodded, and there was a comfortable silence between them until a moment later when Annie got out of a taxi with Susie and yelled at Faye from across the street. ‘Your friends, I assume?’ He tipped his hat to them as they crossed the road.
‘That’s them.’ Faye felt a rush of happiness as Annie, dressed in a skintight black PVC catsuit and black biker boots, danced over to them and planted a kiss on Faye’s cheek. Even though she had to keep her hair long and blonde forCoven of Love, she’d curled up the ends into a sixties’ style.
‘Howaya, sweetheart?’ Annie took a double take at Gabriel. ‘Who’s this, aye? I didnae tell ye I was goin’ to be Emma Peel tonight, but look, ye’ve found ma John Steed for me.’
‘Annie, this is Gabriel Black. Gabriel, this is my best friend Annie and her girlfriend, Susie.’
‘Delighted to find a fellow fan of vintage British espionage.’ Gabriel shook Annie’s hand, laughing. ‘And I assure you, it’s a happy accident. I’m afraid I usually look this way, though the bowler isn’t an everyday thing.’
‘Charmed. Hi, Faye.’ Susie kissed Faye on her other cheek; Faye suspected that she now had red lipstick on one side of her mouth and pink on the other. Annie’s girlfriend was dressed in trousers, a gold waistcoat under a nicely cut jacket and her hair was arranged in a sleek blonde bob. ‘She’s Emma Peel, I’m Pussy Galore,’ Susie explained. ‘Formidable women of British cinema.’
‘Right.’ Faye laughed. ‘Bewitching, both of you.’
