The Ruby Kiss Read Online Free PDF Page A

the eastern end of the Gathering hung a shimmering dome of blue-white light where the crowds concentrated around a pair of glittering thrones occupied by a glowing man and woman. Nightshade guessed these were the Seelie king and queen of the blessed Scottish Fairy Court, although in his experience light and beauty did not always equal goodness. And he knew for a fact that the Unseelie Fairy Court, renowned to be dark and dangerous, couldn’t be all bad; his friend Devin spent time there.
    At the western end of the crowd, woven from twisted branches, a solitary dark throne stood empty in the center of a circle of swaying lanterns. A huge bonfire roared behind it, what must surely be the Unseelie king’s throne. Drunken revelers congregated nearby, around a group of musicians beating out a tribal rhythm on drums and backlit by flame.
    On the south side of the Gathering, a long bar serving food and drinks divided the meeting area from the woodland. The crowd waiting to be served swarmed along the length of the bar, except for in a small oasis of space at the western end. Nightshade dropped lower and smiled when he recognized the glowing golden-haired man causing the break in the crowd: Troy the Deathless. He was immortal, and it had not surprised Nightshade to learn he was a Norse god. He supposed there must be other gods in the world, but he’d not met any—unless one counted his djinn friend, Devin, who sort of qualified. With Troy as a father and a scary djinn queen as a mother, Devin was one of the most powerful people he knew, though one would never guess to look at him. Like his father, Troy, Devin seemed to have a hand in many of the fairy courts in Britain and probably in other parts of the world. Although,Nightshade had never been farther than Ireland so he didn’t know everything his friend got up to.
    Even drunk, the merrymakers knew to keep a respectful distance from Troy. Luckily for Nightshade, the small clearing around Devin and his father made a perfect spot to land. He descended carefully, not wanting to create too much downdraft with his wings. The crowd scuttled back as he landed, obligingly giving him more space.
    “You made it!” Devin shouted over the din, striding forward to embrace him. The fragrance of incense clung to his golden skin. Devin grinned and scooped an errant strand of dark hair behind his pointy ear. “When you didn’t come yesterday, I thought you’d chickened out.”
    “You stink of perfume, djinn,” Nightshade teased.
    His friend punched him on the shoulder. “You stink of woman, stalker. Pray tell me what—or who—you’ve been doing.”
    Nightshade pivoted to greet Troy rather than answer any embarrassing questions. Devin’s father lounged indolently on a barstool, decked out extravagantly as usual. He wore a fitted blue tartan jacket and matching kilt—royal blue plaid shot through with golden thread—while his blond hair was fixed up on his head using a small gold sword with a matching tartan rosette on the pommel.
    As Troy’s unearthly blue gaze met his, a grin spread across Nightshade’s face. “You’re wearing a
skirt,
man,” he roared.
    Devin laughed, and an expectant hush fell over the watchers. All wanted to know how his father would react. Troy the Deathless was not known for acts of tolerance or benevolence. He normally displayed all the warmth and compassion of an assassin.
    “When in Scotland . . .,” Troy intoned, his rich melodic drawl sliding down Nightshade’s spine like a caress. Then hecrooked a finger, beckoning Nightshade closer. “Devin tells me you’ve come here hoping to persuade Dragon to give up his rights to Rhys.”
    Nightshade pressed his palm against the jeans pocket where he had stowed his father’s Magic Knot: three linked stones containing the essence of the fairy’s mind, body, and spirit. He’d acquired it the last time they had a fight. He hoped his father wanted it back badly enough to agree to his demands, although