“Geez, do you have a poster of him on your wall?” I asked.

  “Shut up, human!” he snapped, and he drew my head back as if he were about to bash it into the wall.

  “You don’t want to do that—I won’t warn you again,” Rell said.

  The guy seemed to consider Rell’s words, though he hadn’t let go of the side of my head, and in fact, he pushed it into the wall again and started slowly pushing like he was trying to crush my skull. When the wall suddenly moved, I found myself toppling over and spilling out into someone’s waiting arms. I was a little groggy, and having trouble seeing, although I had a bag over my head so there wasn’t much to see to begin with.

  But I knew whose arms I’d fallen into.

  Haircut.

  The Viscount.

  I could identify his scent anywhere; that strong, floral, masculine aroma that could only belong to a creature that wasn’t entirely human, even though the very idea of it was insane.

  “She’s hurt,” he said, his voice soft, and low.

  “My apologies, Viscount,” said the man who’d been sitting next to me a moment ago. “It spoke, and—”

  “—you and your men are not to touch her again, is that understood?”

  “I… yes, Lord Viscount.”

  “Wow… and here I thought you didn’t care,” I managed to say.

  A pause. “Worry not. I simply meant the privilege of inflicting pain on you is reserved only for me.”

  Chapter 7

  The Viscount removed the bag I had over my head, and for the first time, I caught a glimpse of where I had been taken… and it stole my breath.

  I knew I wasn’t in the city anymore, so I wasn’t expecting to be met with dull, gun-metal skies, choking fumes, and the huge, glittering concrete slabs of the city I’d grown up with. I was expecting dark clouds, rain, and cold, endless, deep green forests. This place was anything but.

  The skies were clear and blue, the sun shining so brilliantly that even glancing at it was too much for my eyes. The air was fresh here; wild and vibrant. Birds chirped overhead, a warm breeze pushed and pulled around me, tugging at my red hair and carrying with it the scent of spring. There wasn’t a car for miles. No droning hum, no hissing tires, and no chance of getting soaked by the sidewalk.

  But that wasn’t all.

  I had been brought to a mansion, or maybe a castle. It was tall, wide, and long, with a gorgeous, light brown façade and more windows than I could count. It was like something straight out of a storybook. There were towers, parapets, and people guarding those parapets; people wearing green and gold armor that sparkled as the sun touched it.

  A horse snorted, stealing my attention, and I saw the vehicle I’d been brought here on. It was a carriage; an honest-to-God carriage painted in shades of green and covered in stunning, gold livery. And the person riding it? He was wearing a black, finely pressed suit, with a ruffled white undershirt. When he looked at me, I saw his eyes first; vibrant and clearest blue. He was pretty, fit, and young, but he sneered when he saw me, the corner of his lip curling like I disgusted him.

  Then I saw his ears.

  They were long, pointed, and definitely fake.

  “I’ve been kidnapped by thespians,” I said. “I don’t know if I should be afraid or embarrassed.”

  “It could be worse,” said the Viscount, “You could have had the misfortune of being captured by the winter Fae. It’s warm here, at least.”

  I tapped the side of my head. “Oh, sure, uh-huh. It probably is worse with the winter Fae. Why didn’t I think of that?”

  “Because you are human.”

  “And you are…?”

  The Viscount’s eyebrow arched. “Fae.”

  “Right, just checking.”

  “Move,” he said, and he pulled me by the arm.

  I started moving, walking along the path that led up to the front of the building, fully aware of the many eyes that were on me. Most of the people watching me looked to be soldiers—athletic looking men and women wearing suits of full-plate armor, helmets and all. Each of them carried two thin swords, one shorter than the other, and each of them had some kind of scowl for me as I walked past.

  I wasn’t sure what I’d done to annoy them already, but they all seemed to hate the very sight of me. Luckily, that was something I was already used to. All my life I’d lived surrounded by people who would take whatever they could from me at a moment’s notice if they thought they could get away with it. No one who ever left the neighborhood I grew up in ever got out without scars on their thick skin, and I got out with plenty.

  The smell of spring itself was heavy in the air. Near the building’s front door was a massive array of flowers of all colors, each in perfect bloom. Bees buzzed between them, fluttering from one flower to the next. I thought I could almost see the pollen in the air, sparkling like floating glitter. Last I checked, we were in the depths of the fall and plunging into winter, but this place seemed to have missed the memo.

  “Where are we?” I asked the Viscount, who had my arm in a vice-grip.

  “Speak when spoken to,” came the reply, curt and short.

  “You’re really getting some kind of power trip over here, aren’t you?” I shrugged. “Who am I to spoil your fun.”

  “You are going to learn your place, and you’re going to learn it quickly if you want to survive here.”

  “Survive? I thought the lizard thing did that hospitality thing.”

  “The lizard did indeed pull a stunt I had not anticipated, but your accommodation and treatment here are up to my discretion. I can make your new life here bearable, or I can make it miserable.”

  “Wow, I’m really spoiled for choice.” I paused. “Wait, what are you talking about, new life?”

  The Viscount stopped just as we reached the walkway that led to the front door. He didn’t look at me, but at the building we were standing in front of, as if he were talking to it instead of me. “Do you think you are going back?” he asked.

  He finally turned his head to the side, and I stared at the side of his face. There was something about the way the sunlight touched him, the way it shone against his deep, dark eyes, the way it seemed to illuminate his skin. He was beautiful, but he’d kidnapped me, and I had kissed him.

  I wasn’t sure whether to be attracted to him or disgusted with myself.

  Probably a little bit of both—not something I wasn’t used to.

  I shook my head, trying to break the spell, realizing suddenly that he wasn’t wearing fake ears like the rest of the people around here. I couldn’t help but feel like that was a strange choice, considering everyone else was committing to their roles at this weird, renaissance themed compound of whackos and nutjobs.

  “Are you telling me you aren’t going to try to ransom me?” I asked.

  “You are here because you must be, not because anybody wants you here,” said the Viscount. “Had that sprite not invoked hospitality, I would not have inherited this mess. Such as it is, you are my mess, and I will deal with you accordingly.”

  “Wait a minute, mess? What mess?”

  “You. A human, in Emerald Hall. Do you have any idea what kind of a scandal this is?”

  “Oh, right, because you’re all Fae and I’m not. I get it. Except, that’s a load of bullshit that I’m still not buying.”

  A small grin appeared on the side of the Viscount’s face. “Did your small, human brain lock away last night’s events so they wouldn’t give you nightmares?”

  “Maybe it did, but only because I was drunk.”

  “Indeed…” a pause, then the Viscount squeezed my arm and yanked me toward the entrance to the building; toward Emerald Hall.

  Now, I decided, was the time to protest. I dug my feet into the ground, grabbed the Viscount’s hand, and pulled away from him, forcing him to stop. He turned around, this time fully, catching the full view of me in front of him. I stared into his eyes, defiant, the cool, spring breeze picking up strands of my red hair and making them dance.

  “You resist?” he asked, his voice a low, soft, and quiet threat.

  “It was funny at first, but there’s no way I’m letting you lock me in that place.”

  “Emerald Hall is no mere place. It is a structure that has stood for centuries, it is the ancestral home of my family, the seat of my house, and the magical, beating heart of this land. The Kingdom of Spring exists in a state of perpetual bloom due entirely to the fact that these buildings stand and are kept in immaculate order. No human has ever set foot into this great hall—you should consider yourself lucky.”

  “You can dress it up however you want, but a kidnapping is a kidnapping. Someone’s going to realize I’m gone sooner or later.”

  The Viscount’s eyes narrowed. “Never have I heard a sadder, more bald-faced lie in my entire life.”

  “I’m lying?”

  “You are lying to me, and to yourself.”

  “And how do you know that?”

  “Because I see you, Avery Rose. I can look into your eyes, and I know… you have nothing and no one. No friends who would care enough, no family you have spoken to in any reasonable amount of time, certainly your landlord won’t notice your absence.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong. My landlord never forgives a debt.”

  “Perhaps not, but he will forget your debt just as quickly as he will forget you ever existed.” The Viscount squared up to me, and I realized then just how much taller he was than me. I remembered having to throw my arms around his neck when I’d kissed him last night, but he must have been slouching because he seemed to have gained a foot or so since then. “No one is coming for you. You belong to us, now; you belong to me. I suggest you do as I command, otherwise it will be the dungeons for you.”

  Maybe it was the closeness, or the rumbling timbre of his voice, or maybe it was the continued threats, but my heart was starting to race. I could feel it in my chest, picking up speed like a locomotive just getting started. I swallowed hard, the gravity of the situation starting to weigh around my shoulders.

  I couldn’t remember much about last night, but if the bits I did remember were true, I needed to stop mouthing off and think. Whether these people were just weirdoes in costumes or if I had in fact crossed some threshold into another world—into Arcadia—I was in grave danger.

  As the thought finally clicked into place like another piece of this puzzle, I decided to loosen my stance and allow the Viscount to escort me toward Emerald Hall. I needed to get out of here, that much was clear, but I wasn’t going to do that with him looking directly at me. Even if I made it past him, there were enough armed guards out here that I’d never make it to the fountain near the front gates.

  I had to plan my moves carefully, but before I could do that, I needed to do some reconnaissance.

  Two, broad shouldered soldiers stood sentry by the front door, watching our approach. Without saying a word, the soldiers separated and bowed, showing reverence to the man walking between them. A moment later, the door to Emerald Hall opened all on its own, without encouragement, without anyone touching it.

  Magic? Nah, has to be a sensor or something.

  Stepping past the guards and through the door, I found myself losing my breath for the second time in just a few minutes. Having never set foot inside of a mansion like this, I wasn’t entirely sure what I was in for, so I couldn’t have pictured it before stepping inside.

  Rays of glittering light sparkled in all directions, radiating from the billion-foot chandelier hanging in the center of the hall unfolding all around me. Above it, a massive skylight let in the flood of sunlight that touched every corner of this room, every window, every bit of furniture, every surface. Flowing, airy drapes billowed out of open archways, carrying with them a lush, flowery breeze and the sound of conversations being held just outside of view.

  A flutter of birds raced out of one of those arches, startling me. They rapidly encircled the chandelier, then zoomed up its length and shot out of the skylight and into the sun. That had to have been impossible, because I could see the sun reflected on the skylight’s glass panes, but they’d done it anyway, moved through it like it wasn’t there.

  It was then I realized I couldn’t find the struts supporting the chandelier. What the hell was keeping it held up?

  “Oh… my God,” I whispered, one hand moving up to my lips.

  “This is the grand foyer,” said the Viscount.

  “It’s…” I trailed off, staring at the chandelier. “How is it doing that?”

  The Viscount turned his head to the side. “You thought it a moment ago, did you not?”

  I frowned. “What did I think?”

  He cocked a playful eyebrow, a smug smirk to compliment it. “Magic.”

  I instantly felt faint, the blood draining rapidly from my head. Had the Viscount not already been holding me upright, I would’ve toppled over. “Holy shit,” I breathed. “It’s all real.”

  “It’s more real than the world you just came from, I can assure you. Now, try not to break your brain before we get to your quarters.”

  Chapter 8

  The Viscount had to drag me through the foyer, because I had almost lost all of the power in my legs. The light falling from the sky was too bright, the flowery scent in the air too strong, and the utter madness of the situation too heavy for me.

  I wasn’t totally aware of what was happening anymore. It was as if I’d just had an out of body experience, and I was watching myself from above. My heart was pounding, my chest felt like it was way too tight, and my limbs felt gangly and uncoordinated.

  As the Viscount moved through the manor with me in tow, I caught flashes of beautiful—elfin—faces in the rooms we passed. Whatever conversations had been taking place before I came into view all stopped just as soon as I was spotted. That was when the whispering started.

  “Human,” one whispered.

  “Why is it here?” asked another.

  “What is he doing?” came a third voice.

  They were all around me, these pretty people with the pointed ears and expensive costumes. They were keeping their tones hushed for the most part, but I was able to pick out the parts that mattered the most as I floated past them all, faint, and about to collapse at any given moment.

  Light from a fireplace caught my eye, giving me something to focus on as the Viscount dragged me through a huge study. Long, luxuriant couches decorated the place, flanked by small tables covered with bowls of strange fruits, and a bookshelf that ran along the length of the wall opposite the fireplace, but there was something about the fire that caught my eye.

  It shimmered and swirled as it burned in shades of orange, red, and yellow, but it didn’t crackle or pop, and I couldn’t see any logs underneath it. The fire itself had no source, no fuel—it burned all on its own, and it was… looking at me.

  “Holy shit,” I shrieked. “That fire has eyes!?”

  “Be silent,” the Viscount snapped, making the chorus of whispers in the room start to rise.

  He quickened his pace, and as I lost sight of the fireplace, I found myself moving through a doorway and into a dining room that looked like it stretched for miles. A man in a black suit, wearing white gloves, was setting the table, carefully placing cutlery over cloths. He stopped to look at us as we rushed past; his narrow, hazel eyes studying me carefully.

  “Where are you taking me?” I asked as we reached the next door.

  “I will not ask you again,” warned the Viscount. “Do not speak unless spoken to.”

  Stepping through the door at the end of the dining room, we entered a kitchen filled with people. Instantly I was hit with warmth, noise, and the smell of cooking vegetables and meats. A mad rush was taking place in here, with cooks fluttering from one dish to the next, from one pot to another, hurrying to get things ready.

  It reminded me of the bees outside, and it strangely calmed me.

  Unlike the other people in the house, none of the kitchen staff seemed to care I was here. They were too busy cooking and cutting; preparing food for what looked like an entire army. My stomach churned and my mouth watered. It all smelled delicious in here, and yet, I couldn’t identify any of it.

  One woman was chopping up something that looked like a carrot, but it was green, with bits of orange inside it. Another was mashing potatoes in a bowl, but the mash was coming out pink, and it smelled strangely sweet. Something was wrong here. Strange. Different. I still wanted to eat all of it.

  I was about to ask if any of this was for me, when I remembered the Viscount’s threats. As much as I wanted to, I was probably better off keeping my mouth shut for now and seeing where this went. I was, at least, able to notice the outer door here in the kitchen. So far, I’d seen no other way out of the building save for the main entrance.

  This looked like a backdoor, with a window overlooking a patio, or a garden.

  The Viscount yanked me toward a large, metal slab of a door. From one of his pockets, he produced an ornate brass key. He then slid the key into the lock, turned it, and unlocked the door. When he opened it, I was greeted instantly with darkness and a stairwell angled down, into a cellar.

  Of course.

  “I thought you said you weren’t going to stick me in a dungeon,” I said.

  “This is the cellar,” said the Viscount, “Not the dungeon.”

  “What’s the difference?”

  “A dungeon has bars, sharp things, and is generally reserved for prisoners.”

  “So, I’m not a prisoner? You told me I couldn’t leave this place.”

  “And you cannot—but whether you are a prisoner or a guest is up to you.”

  The Viscount urged me to take the first step into the cellar. Not wanting to go ass over tits into the dark, I took a careful step, then another, and another. It was instantly colder in here than it had been in the kitchen, but then again, there had been a lot of burners going up there, a lot of steaming pots and frying pans.

  Reaching the bottom, a soft, warm, yellow glow began to rise bringing a little illumination to the gloom. I couldn’t see any lights, or light switches. I couldn’t see any torches, or fires. A moment ago, here had been darkness, and now there was light.