The Iron Queen (The Iron Fey #3)

He stared at me with a hopeful expression. I squirmed uncomfortably. “I’m not going to promise anything,” I warned, “so you can stop threatening me.”


“Who said I was threatening you?” One-Eye held up his hands with a quick glance at Ash. “I’m just giving you a friendly warning. I thought, hey, she’s killed the Iron bastards before. She might want to do it again.”

“Who told you that?”

“Oh, please. It’s all over the streets. We know about you—you and your Unseelie boyfriend here.” He curled a lip at Ash, who stared back stoically. “We heard about the scepter, and how you killed the Iron bitch who stole it. We know you returned it to Mab to stop the war between Summer and Winter, and that they exiled you for your trouble.” One-Eye shook his head and gave me a look that was almost sympathetic. “Word travels fast on the streets, princess, especially when the Iron fey are running around like chickens with their heads ripped off, offering rewards for ‘the daughter of the Summer King.’ So, I’d watch my back, if I were you.”

He snorted, then turned and spat on one of his flunky’s shoes. The other redcap snarled and cursed, but One-Eye didn’t seem to notice. “Anyway, there it is. Last time I checked, the bastards were nosing around Bourbon Street. If you do manage to kill them, princess, tell them One-Eyed Jack says hello. Let’s go, boys.”

“Aw, boss.” The redcap who was spit on smiled at me and licked his fangs. “Can’t we chew on the princess, just a little?”

One-Eyed Jack slapped the offending faery upside the head without looking at him. “Idiot,” he snapped. “I have no desire to pick your frozen guts off the pavement. Now move, you stupid lot. Before I lose my temper.”

The redcap leader grinned at me, gave Ash one last sneer, and backed away. Snapping and arguing with each other, the redcap gang ambled into the darkness and vanished from sight.

I looked at Ash. “You know, there was a time I wished I could be so popular.”

He sheathed his sword. “Should we stop for the night?”

“No.” I rubbed my arms, dropping the glamour and the queasiness that came with it, and peered into the street. “I can’t run and hide just because the Iron fey are looking for me. I’d never get anywhere. Let’s keep moving.”

Ash nodded. “We’re almost there.”

We reached our destination without further incident. The New Orleans Historic Voodoo Museum looked exactly how I remembered it, faded black doors sunk into the wall. The wooden sign creaked on its chains overhead.

“Ash,” I murmured as we walked quietly to the doors. “I’ve been thinking.” The encounter with the spider-hags and the redcaps had strengthened my convictions, and I was ready to voice my plans. “I want you to do something for me, if you would.”

“Whatever you need.” We reached the doors, and Ash peered in the window. The interior of the museum was dark. He scanned the area around us before turning to place a hand on one of the doors. “I’m still listening, Meghan,” he murmured. “What do you want me to do?”

I took a breath. “Teach me how to fight.”

He turned back, his eyebrows raised. I took advantage of the moment of silence and plunged on before he could protest. “I mean it, Ash. I’m tired of standing on the sidelines doing nothing, watching you fight for me. I want to learn to defend myself. Will you teach me?” He frowned and opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, I added, “And don’t give me any crap about defending my honor, or how a girl can’t use a weapon, or how it’s too dangerous for me to fight. How am I going to beat the false king if I can’t even swing a sword?”

“I was going to say,” Ash continued in what was almost a solemn voice, if it wasn’t for the faint smirk on his lips, “that I thought it was a good idea. In fact, I was going to suggest picking up a weapon for you after we’re done here.”

“Oh,” I said in a small voice. Ash sighed.

“We have a lot of enemies,” he continued. “And as much as I hate it, there might be times when I won’t be there to help you. Learning to fight and use glamour will be crucial now. I was trying to think of a way to suggest teaching you without having it blow up in my face.” He smiled then, a tiny twitch of his lips, and shook his head. “I suppose I was doomed either way.”

“Oh,” I said again, in an even smaller voice. “Well…good. As long as we understand each other.” I was glad the darkness hid my burning face, though knowing Ash, he could probably see it anyway.

Still smiling, Ash turned back to the door, placing a hand on the faded wood and speaking a quiet word under his breath. The door clicked and slowly swung open.