The Unseelie Duke (Deal of Shadows Book 1), page 1
THE UNSEELIE DUKE
DEAL OF SHADOWS: BOOK ONE
KATHRYN ANN KINGSLEY
Copyright © 2023 by Kathryn Ann Kingsley
ASIN: B0BY9QBXK1
Paperback ISBN: 9798393850623
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.
CONTENTS
Forward or Warnings
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
For More by me…
Follow Me!
About the Author
FORWARD OR WARNINGS
This series is an entry point into the world of Tir n’Aill. You do not have to read Maze of Shadows to enjoy Deal of Shadows.
Every now and then I get a lead male character who demands that I put aside all other things and give him his time in the spotlight. Izael, our Unseelie Duke, is one of those characters. He has been an absolute joy to write, and I hope you find him as fun to read as I had making him up.
This series is a dark fantasy that centers around a love story. I can promise you that there is a happily-ever-after ending; it just might be a little bumpy getting there.
But for the sake of making sure you know what you’re getting yourself into, this series will have scenes of graphic (non-sexual) violence, murder, and horror. The sexual content in this series is always consensual, but may involve scenes of mild bondage, breath play, and the like.
He’s a constrictor half-snake Unseelie fae with a dubious attachment to reality. What do you think is going to happen?
CHAPTER ONE
Alex had lost everything.
It was amazing how one little problem could send the whole house of cards crashing down.
And what little she had left was going to follow suit real fast.
Plucking her cellphone out of her pocket, she checked the time as she made the walk back home from her former place of employment. The coffee shop was closing its doors. Business in Cambridge just wasn’t what it used to be, now that most of the companies around the Boston area had shuttered their doors to all work from home. At least she hadn’t been fired. At least there was that small benefit.
But she was already behind a few months on the rent, and her clunker of a car had finally died three weeks ago. She had barely been able to afford the cost to get it towed out from the front of her place, let alone get it fixed.
Without what little money she had coming in…poof. It was all going to disappear. Her shitty apartment. Her meager life. Gone.
There was no point in even trying to comprehend how much she owed in student loans. Her BFA diploma in music would make a great umbrella for when she was homeless. She had known there wasn’t money in being an artist, but she hadn’t known exactly how bad it would be.
Her landlord was understanding enough, but that was only going to go so far when he learned that she lost her job. A few random gigs here and there, singing in the local bars, wasn’t enough to pay the bills. It wasn’t predictable. Tucking her midnight purple hair behind her ear, she let out a wavering breath. She wanted to cry, but she refused to let it happen.
She hated crying. Tried never to do it. And the few times in her life it’d gotten away from her, she’d been furious with herself. No, there had to be a way out of this mess.
Somehow.
Maybe I could start an OnlyFans. She snorted at the idea. It wasn’t a terrible one—she had no problem with people who did that. But she’d have to drop a lot of money on the setup, and…it just seemed like a lot of work.
And she’d need money immediately.
She had no family to move in with. Well, no family worth mentioning, anyway. There were no friends she could call to ask for a loan. None of her friends were in the position to help her. And besides, that felt so wrong. Especially seeing as she had no way of guaranteeing any kind of schedule of repayment.
Fishing her apartment keys out of her pocket, she walked up the stairs of the dingy three-family building she called home. Hers was on the top floor, a small one-bedroom that had once been an attic, but it was all she could afford. Or rather—had been able to afford.
Locking the door behind her and flipping the bolt, she collapsed onto the sofa and threw her arm over her eyes. She hadn’t even bothered taking her shoes off first. It wasn’t like the carpet could get any dirtier. It had been that way when she’d moved in, but she didn’t care enough to pester the landlord to get it replaced.
And she certainly wasn’t in any position to bargain.
Fiddling with the necklace she wore, she stared up at the flaking paint of the ceiling and tried to think of a way out of her predicament. The ridges of the snake carved out of bone were worn smooth over the years. Fidgeting was a bad habit of hers, and the necklace she’d owned since she was a child was the most frequent target.
There wasn’t going to be any solving her problem tonight, she figured. Not when her thoughts were bouncing between dread and borderline panic. Pouring herself a stiff drink, she put a bowl of ramen into the microwave and sat at the vinyl-topped kitchen table that looked like it dated from the fifties. It had that telltale ridged metal trim around the edges, but she wasn’t honestly sure when it dated to. It had come with the place. She couldn’t complain; it served its purpose.
After eating the world’s saddest dinner, she took a shower and did her best to calm down. It was a pointless attempt, and she knew it, but she didn’t know what else to do except turn off the lights and enjoy the hot water in the darkness.
Changing into her pajamas, she headed into her bedroom and sat on the edge of her bed. Her frustration boiled over and, with a snarl, she slammed her fist into her thigh a few times. The pain somehow made her feel just a little better. She wasn’t sure why.
Letting out a shuddering breath, she decided to grasp on to the only thing she had in times like this—as silly as it would be to outside observers.
She was going to cast a spell.
She had been a witch since she was young, falling deep into the New Age section of a Barnes & Noble, and she had never quite come back out. Tarot cards, crystals, herbs, and trinkets—she collected them all. But the things that decorated her altar the most were bones.
Animal bones, to be specific, ones she found on hikes in the woods. The skull of a fox she had painted and decorated with symbols sat prominently in the center of her arrangement.
Opening the curtains to let the moonlight in, she began her preparations. First, she lit a stick of incense and took her candles out from her dresser drawer and began setting up a circle in the middle of her bedroom. Next was placing a copper bowl down in the middle. She gathered up various herbs, sticks, and leaves from her collection.
To top off the bowl was the skull of a rattlesnake.
Kneeling at the bowl, she shut her eyes and tried to center herself. Once her breathing was slow and regular, she lit the candles around her and held the match in front of her, watching the dancing flame.
It was going to be an unusual spell, but she didn’t know what else to do. “I don’t know who’s listening, if anybody. If you are? I don’t really know if I care who you are.” She cringed. “But I need help. Please. I’m desperate. And I’ll trade you for anything I have left. Anything at all.” Dropping the match into the bowl of odds and ends, she watched as it caught fire and blazed.
Murmuring words of prayer and thanks to all the old gods she could think of—covering all her bases, really—she repeated it until the bowl was nothing but ashes and a now charred and blackened snake skull.
Tomorrow, she would bury it all in the back yard. Blowing out the candles, she placed the bowl on the windowsill in the moonlight and crawled into bed.
Shutting her eyes, she turned on her side and clutched her favorite stuffed animal to her chest, and after a long bout of tossing and turning, she finally fell asleep.
And what do we have here?
What a terrible little place this is. Is this how mortals live now? Pathetic.
Izael emerged from the darkest shadows of the room. He had heard a prayer, whispered in foolish words. A wish made by moonlight. An open door. And who was he if not the kind of person to step through it?
He loved open doors.
They were the absolute best kind.
Especially those left there by silly mortals.
The room smelled of cloves and sandalwood. The pungent incense made him wrinkle his nose. Pleh. He could have done without that nonsense. The odor of recently burning candles almost made him roll his eyes.
Superstition.
Magic was a matter of will. Of focus. Such tools were only toys for the weaker practitioner. He kept his steps silent as he approached an arrangement of trinkets on top of a dresser. A black velvet cloth covered the surface, and it was absolutely cluttered with bits and pieces of everything he could imagine. Dried flowers, crystals and rocks, carved bits of wood, and whatever else the little spellcaster thought might serve their purpose.
But what made him lick his lips were the bones. Sadly, nothing too salient or fresh—and all belonging to little woodland creatures. Damn. But beggars and choosers, and all that.
It was then he noticed the bowl of burnt cinders and a blackened rattlesnake skull in the center of it. A vicious, hungry smile spread over his lips. That would be why the invitation was sent to him in particular. I wonder if my new friend knows what they’ve done. He highly doubted it.
The old ways were not dead. But they were sorely misunderstood.
Where was his host, now that he thought about it?
Hearing noise from behind him, he turned. He hadn’t seen the mattress at first—it was small. It sat without a frame or supports up against one wall. And on it was…
“Oh, hello,” he murmured, his grin growing wider. Was this his new favorite friend in the whole wide world? He very much hoped so.
What a pretty little thing she was. Hair the color of the darkest amethyst pooled about her on the pillow. She was wearing barely anything at all, which he did sincerely hope was the new fashion on Earth. Not that he was ever starved for flesh in Tir n’Aill, but there was something to be said for unwrapping presents.
Her exposed arm was covered in markings—tattoos, he realized. Images of skeletal creatures and monsters crawled through stylized graveyards. Atop one grave was a very stern looking raven. It was an elegant, if entirely morbid, array of art. He wondered if she had any more. He very much hoped so. He wanted to find them all.
She was a beautiful thing, he decided. Curvy in all the right places. Fleshy enough to sink his teeth into, but slender at the waist and perfect for him to coil around and squeeze.
Hunger surged in him, sudden and strong. Her scent was all of that in the room—of spices, of clove, a hint of coffee. Of char and smoke. It was delicious.
Kneeling very carefully on her sad little mattress, he prowled over her. He balanced his weight and moved slowly, not wanting to wake her up. Not yet.
She was short. That was fine. Easier to manhandle. He wondered what color her eyes were. He hoped they were blue. Slowly lowering himself onto his elbows, he bent his nose close to her and inhaled.
A shudder passed down his spine. How he wanted to taste her. How he wanted to devour her. But that would have to wait. His insatiable hunger would ruin the fun before it began. And he had the opportunity of a lifetime before him.
He was so bored with the fae. The Seelie were droll and uninteresting. The Unseelie were prickish, stuck-up, and irritating. Humans, however? Humans were fun. Unpredictable, technological geniuses, and their society was everchanging. Not stuck in the mire of agelessness like his people, mortals were forced to live fast since they lived short.
He loved Earth.
But ever since the damn fucking miserable treaty was signed, it was off limits. Abigail, the Seelie Queen, and Valroy, his liege and the Unseelie King, had finally penned an end to their interminable back-and-forthsy game of fighting.
Nobody was allowed on Earth without an expressly signed contract with a mortal.
And it meant he was trapped.
And trapped meant bored.
And he hated it.
But this girl presented an opportunity. An ice cream sundae piled with sugary, tasty goodies. His stomach grumbled. It had been eighty years since the treaty was made and he had been able to visit Earth. He did hope they still had ice cream.
The young lady murmured and rolled onto her back, facing him without realizing it.
Why, yes, he would have some, thank-you-very-much.
He kissed her. Slowly at first, loving the feeling of her against his skin, warm, soft, and supple. She tasted just as good as she smelled! When she let out a furtive, still-sleeping moan against his lips, he couldn’t help himself.
Deepening the kiss, he wound his fingers into her dark purple hair. What a wonderful surprise for her! Waking up with him in her bed. What a treat for both of them. He would make passionate, violent love to her until dawn, and when he had to slink back to the shadows, he would do so, inked contract in hand, and a new mortal plaything to enjoy.
He loved new toys.
When she let out a startled “mffh!” against his lips, he knew she was finally awake. He pulled back, grinning broadly. She would surely welcome him into her arms, ready to seal their tryst in more ways than one. “Hello, my—”
He broke off as she screamed in his face.
And promptly brought her knee up into his gentleman parts. He groaned in agony and fell onto his side on the mattress.
So much for that.
CHAPTER TWO
Alex kicked at the man a second time as she flew off the bed. “Holy shit!” She ran for the light switch and turned it on as fast as she could, not wanting to leave her back turned to the intruder-and-probably-rapist for any longer than she had to.
The man was still lying in a heap on the bed, holding his privates where she had nailed him with her knee.
“Ow,” he muttered into her pillow.
“Get out! Who the fuck are you? I’m calling the cops—”
She grabbed her phone from the floor next to the bed. It had only taken an instant. But when she looked up, the man was…gone. Just entirely gone.
There was only one door in and out of her bedroom, and there was no way he had made it past her. She turned in a circle, searching for him. No one. Anywhere. “What the…?”
Picking up a candlestick from her dresser, she held it over her head like a weapon. “Where’d you go? Come out! Stop hiding!” But nobody answered. Fighting panic, she searched her apartment. All the windows were shut and locked. The door was still bolted. There was no way anybody could have gotten in.
Had it been a nightmare? She was shaking, the adrenaline still crashing through her system. She had gone into full fight mode, but now in the aftermath, she wasn’t so sure. Maybe it had been a night terror. Or sleep paralysis. She’d never had anything like that before, but she was under a lot of stress.
But the man had felt so real.
She checked all the doors and windows a second time. Checked every closet. Even looked under the sofa, as stupid as that was. Nothing. No sign of anyone. It must have been a nightmare. There wasn’t any other option. People didn’t just vanish into thin air. She left the lights on in the rest of her apartment, just in case, as she went into the bedroom and plugged her phone back into the charger.
Straightening, she turned around to turn off the light.
And walked right into someone. “Boo.”
Screaming, she shoved at the person, but they barely budged an inch. She balled up her hands and punched at him, going straight for the face. She didn’t even stop to see who she was hitting. She didn’t care.
“Gah!” The man pulled back to dodge one of her swings. “What a little hellcat you—ow!” He snarled as she kicked him in the leg.
“Get out! Get out!”
Hands grabbed her wrists. The man was twice her size and far stronger than she was. Before she could react, he spun her around and placed her back to his chest, his arms banding around her and pinning her to him. “You want me to leave? But you just summoned me here.” His voice was sharp but low. “How confusing you humans are.”
