“I agree.”
“And, if, somehow, I can access that power, or close the void inside of me altogether—it will not only make it impossible for Heather to control me again, but I’ll have actual magic.” Her eyes glitter with the possibility as she meets my gaze. “Delaney asked around, so she thought it was possible. And if it is, this could be exactly what we need to beat her.”
Swallowing hard, I consider. “That void is a part of you, a direct result of the day and year you were born. If it’s even possible to close it—what if losing that piece changes you?”
“Having it, understanding what it means, has made me afraid of myself,” she admits. “Last night, when I was lying on the floor in the middle of everything, I nearly blacked out.”
My hand tightens on the mug of coffee still in my grip. “You didn’t tell me that.”
“It has happened nearly every time I’m faced with near-death or overwhelming grief. So basically, I’m used to it now.” I know she’s thinking of the day Delaney was killed and how it was her first blackout. “I know I’m more powerful after I’ve tapped into it, the trouble is I never know if I’m going to come out of it. But if the void was closed—”
“You’d have access to all that power without having to lose yourself to gain it.”
She grins. “Exactly.”
Fear over losing her when I’ve only just gotten her back nearly has me on my knees, begging her to think of another way. But I promised her I wouldn’t shield her—that I would let her be what she needs. Let her do what her legacy demands.
And I also swore to fight beside her.
So, despite my concern, I nod. “It would give us an edge,” I agree. “So let’s have a chat with our fae friend to see if he knows whether or not it’s possible.”
“He’s going to be pissed that we keep interrupting his mornings,” she jokes.
Knowing that adds a bit of joy to this errand. “I hope we do make it a habit.”
Rainey laughs and gets to her feet, pulling me with her. “Then, let’s give him a call, shall we?”
27
Rainey
After getting dressed and making a quick phone call, we’re standing in Fearghas’s penthouse, the irritated fae releasing my hand and crossing the room to his kitchen.
“How exactly did you people manage to get around without me?” he snaps. Hair mussed, he looks like he recently finished working out just like the last time Jane and I crashed his place early.
“It was nearly impossible,” I joke. “But we made do.”
“Ha, ha.” He sets the carafe beneath the drip, and leans back against the counter, folding his arms. “Any particular reason you called me so early?”
“We have an idea,” I say with a glance at Elijah. Back stiff, I can see he’s less than thrilled about the risk, but if the reward pays off? It’s more than worth it.
“Based on your hunter, here, I’m assuming I won’t care for it.”
“It could work,” is all Elijah says.
“I started having blackouts two years ago when my sister died. I came to in the middle of a decimated vampire nest, broken bodies everywhere. I shouldn’t have been able to take on that many and walk away.”
“How do you know it was you?”
I glare at him.
“She nearly killed Jack Keller during one of those blackouts,” Elijah informs him. “I was there for that one. Never seen anything like it.”
“Okay,” Fearghas says cautiously. “And I’m assuming this information has something to do with your idea?”
“I want to try and close the void,” I tell him, probably a little more giddy than I should have been, considering what I was asking. If it’s possible, I can’t imagine it will be comfortable, and there could be very real risk involved.
Fearghas gapes at me. “You want to close a part of your soul? Seriously? Do you have any idea how painful that will be?”
Excitement surges through me. “But it’s possible?”
He shakes his head, mouth hanging open, then turns to Elijah. “You would agree to this?”
Elijah shoves both hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Rainey is her own person. I will support any decision she chooses.”
“You both are fucking mad.”
The coffee pot signals its completion, so Fearghas turns away from us and fills a mug. I walk into the kitchen and grab the bottle of whiskey on the counter.
“Here, add this.”
“That’s whiskey.”
I stare at him. “And?”
“And it’s nine in the morning. I’d hardly consider it time for a happy hour.”
My smile spreads. “All day is happy hour when you’re facing the end of the world.”
After a moment, he nods and pours a hefty amount into his steaming mug as I rejoin Elijah near the couch.
Fearghas doesn’t talk, and I give him a moment to gather his thoughts. He didn’t say it was impossible, and I’m taking that as a good sign. After all, if anyone would know how to close a void, it would be the original supernaturals.
Drinking his whiskey-infused coffee, he begins to pace the length of his living room while Elijah and I stand in silence. Just as I’m getting ready to say something—anything—to get this conversation moving, Fearghas turns to me.
“You do realize you’re asking to have your soul ripped from your body, where you will lurk in the veil for a time before you’re shoved back in, and that for all intents and purposes, you will be dead for at least two minutes while this is completed.”
Elijah shifts and takes a deep breath.
All I feel is renewed hope. “But it’s doable?”
Fearghas scoffs. “Of course it is. But it’s not something anyone can do, and it’s fucking painful.”
“I can handle the pain.”
“Can he?” Fearghas asks, gesturing to Elijah. “Your bond may be broken now that he’s no longer a vampire, but that doesn’t mean he won’t suffer alongside you. Do you have any idea what could happen to you if this merger is unsuccessful?”
“What?”
“You could be trapped in the void—in the veil—for eternity.”
Elijah’s beating heart increases, thundering rapidly as he tries to keep his feelings to himself. He did promise to let me do whatever I think is best, and I know it would be foolish of me to not realize he would be suffering right alongside me. But I know in my gut that this is the right answer.
It has to be. Something has to give or Heather is just going to continue running this town and eventually the entire supernatural world. “I want to know who can perform this magic, and I want to talk to them.”
“This is really just—” he trails off, shutting his eyes and shaking his head. “Let me get dressed.”
Fearghas vanishes, so I turn to Elijah, who is purposely not looking at me. Instead, his focus is on the cityscape outside the floor-to-ceiling windows spanning the entire outside wall of Fearghas’s apartment.
“Are you okay?” I ask cautiously.
“Am I okay?” He laughs, darkly. “That’s one hell of a loaded question.”
“Elijah—”
“Do you hate living that much, Rainey?” He turns to me, and I can see tears glittering deep in his ice-blue gaze. “Do you truly want to die that badly?”
“No. I want to survive this,” I insist. “I want us all to survive this, and if I have to suffer a little—”
“A lot,” he interrupts. “Can you imagine what it would feel like to have your soul ripped from your body?”
I think back to Aoife, back to the screams that still fill my mind when I’m calm for even a moment. “I can.”
He continues to stare at me. “Because you’ve seen it.”
“Yes.”
“Then why the hell would you want to do it to yourself?”
“Because I believe this is what we need. It’s what I need. Heather could come right back inside me, take me over again, and make me do all those horrible things again. I
can’t live through that again.”
“We know the risk now. We had no idea before.”
“We also have no idea how to beat her. And the last time you went up against her, she nearly killed you. We can’t win unless we’re playing on a level field, and right now, that bitch holds all the cards.”
Fearghas reappears back in the living room. “This is a horrible fucking idea,” he says as he stalks over toward us. “And I will never forgive you for making me do this.”
Before I can ask what he means, he’s grabbing Elijah and me. The apartment disappears, and when I blink again, we’re standing in the middle of a grassy meadow surrounded by trees.
“Where are we?” I turn in a slow circle, trying to spot anything that might give me the slightest hint.
“Faerie,” Elijah replies tightly.
“I’m sorry, what? You brought us to—” Before I can finish the sentence, the door to a small cabin opens, and an older woman steps out, wearing a bright purple dress and a white apron covered in what looks suspiciously like flour.
“Well, well, well, hello, Fearghas.” Her accent is thick, even thicker than Fearghas and Elijah’s, and when she glares across the clearing, I have the strong urge to bow my head in shame. For what? I have no damn clue, but she has that whole ‘disappointed mom’ stare down to a T.
“Mother,” he replies tightly.
And now I see why. “Mother?” I look from Fearghas to the woman joining us in the meadow. The similarities are there—dark hair, dark eyes. “Seriously?”
“Yes.”
“You wouldn’t think I had a son though,” she says angrily. “Given that I haven’t seen Fearghas here in quite some time. How long has it been, dear?”
“Seven hundred and thirty years by my count.”
“Ah, yes. Still angry?”
“Angry?” He laughs, but it lacks humor. “You killed her!”
The woman rolls her eyes.
“Wait, who killed who?” I ask, trying to keep up with this insane conversation.
Fearghas grinds his teeth together and doesn’t bother looking my way when he answers. “She killed my orchid.”
I gape at him, certain I misheard what he just said. Because there’s no one in his right mind who would hold a grudge over an orchid. Especially not one who’s lasted this long.
Elijah seems to have found a bit of humor in our situation and is trying hard not to laugh. “Your mother killed your flower, and you’ve avoided seeing her for over seven centuries?”
“It was a gorgeous orchid that I’d meant to gift to someone, and because I didn’t have a gift, she married someone else!”
“You spent years not making a damned move, you fool! ’Twasn’t the flower that made her move on. Was the fact that you’re a daft lad with no romantic inclinations at all! Just like your dad.” She scoffs, and I nearly choke on my own humor.
“This was a mistake.” Fearghas groans and pinches the bridge of his nose.
“You’re pissed at your mother over a flower? Seriously?” I ask, still not entirely sure how this badass fae can be this pissed over something with petals.
He glares at me. “She ripped it out by the roots and tossed it onto my bed.”
His mother rolls his eyes. “Please, lad, I saved ye some trouble in the first place. She’s a bit of a whore, that one, sleeping her way through faerie without a care in the realm.” Wiping both hands onto her white apron, she turns to Elijah and me. “Would you two care for some tea?”
“Sure, thanks.” Still not entirely sure how I’m supposed to navigate this situation, I take Elijah’s hand, and together, we make our way up the steps. “I thought we weren’t supposed to eat or drink in faerie? Won’t it make us get stuck here?”
Elijah chuckles. “Old rumor, my love. There’s nothing to be worried about unless Fearghas decides to abandon us here.”
“Don’t tempt me,” he growls.
“You do realize your fear-o-meter just went down by a significant amount, right?” I ask, curiously, as we make our way up the steps. “It’s hard to be intimidated by someone up his own ass about a flower.”
“It was a damned spelled orchid,” he explains, exasperated. “Meant to never die and very rare.”
“Still just a flower, mate,” Elijah reminds him as we step inside.
The entire cottage is covered in flowers of different colors and styles. Bright blooms adorn every inch of available space, and the rest of the house is lined with bottles and books. It’s comfortable—in a hoarder sort of way.
“Where’s Father?” Fearghas questions as we step further into the house.
“You know, here and there. He’ll be home soon.”
We follow Fearghas’s mother down a hallway lined floor to ceiling with books. And not because they’re in bookcases. They are literally stacked, front covers up, on top of each other in pillars that look like they might fall over if one breathes too hard on them.
As soon as we reach the kitchen, she gestures to a table flanked with two long benches instead of chairs. “Please have a seat.” While she preps the tea, I take the time to survey the room.
It’s cleaner in here, more organized, but not by much. There are a bunch of plastic bins overflowing with freshly cut flowers in the corner, a pair of mud boots seated beside a door leading outside.
The entire place is so human that it’s strange.
“So, since Fearghas is too daft to introduce us. I’m Heelean.” She sets mugs down in front of the three of us before taking a seat herself.
“Rainey,” I reply.
“Elijah.”
“Great, now that we’re introduced, to what do I owe this homecoming?”
“We need your help,” Fearghas replies tightly.
“I gathered as much. Hadn’t expected you for another few decades at least.”
“I’m sorry, I can’t believe you two haven’t seen each other in over seven hundred years.” I take a sip of my tea.
Heelean shrugs. “To be honest, this isn’t the longest grudge our family has held. Fearghas’s aunt wouldn’t speak to me for nearly nine hundred years when I got married.”
“Nine hundred—shit—that’s a long time.”
“Not when you’re immortal, dear. So hunters, huh? Interesting. I’ve never seen one up close.” The way she studies me is incredibly disconcerting as if I’m an ant beneath a microscope and she’s trying to light me on fire.
Golden eyes miss nothing as they travel from me to Elijah. “Now what can I do for you?”
“Rainey is a lunar witch,” Fearghas blurts out, and his mother spits her tea all over him. “What the bloody hell, Mother?!” He yells, getting to his feet.
“You can’t be just blurting things out like that without givin’ me some warnin’!”
“I said she’s a lunar witch, not a blasted unicorn. This is ridiculous.” He disappears, leaving Elijah and me seated at his mother’s kitchen table in the middle of fucking faerie.
The asshole better come back, or I’ll stomp on his orchids.
“I’m assuming you’re here because ye wish to not be a lunar witch anymore?”
“Is that something you can do?”
She nods. “I’ve done it before. Though ye should know ’tis not an easy thing to do. The transformation is excruciating.” Her moss-green eyes soften. At least, until Fearghas reappears in fresh clothing.
“What did I miss?”
“Not a damned thing,” Heelean replies. “I was simply warning Rainey here of the repercussions to her choice.”
“I already warned her. She’s as stubborn as they come.”
She winks at me. “The best ones are. Now, are ye sure this is something ye want to do?”
I swallow hard and look to Elijah, who’s merely watching me, waiting for an answer I know he won’t care for. But I can’t help it—I have to do this. I can feel the rightness of this decision deep in my bones. “Yes.”
Heelean nods. “Then come with me.” She gets to her f
eet and heads over toward the back door. Only, instead of opening it and walking outside, she reaches up for a comically large teaspoon mounted to the wall. After pressing the handle, a wooden panel slides away, revealing a set of stairs going down into the ground.
It reminds me of the bunker back in Salem, but I force myself to descend the stairs behind her and Fearghas. The moment Elijah and I are inside, the door shuts behind us.
“Déjà vu?” he whispers behind me, and I nod.
Thankfully, the stairs are a hell of a lot shorter than the ones back at the bunker, so within seconds, we’re stepping into a brightly lit room. The contrast between the chaos upstairs and the pristinely organized space down here is nearly shocking.
If one were to see the two spaces separately, you’d never know they belonged in the same house.
“I let Jack know we were here,” Fearghas tells us as his mother walks over to a man hunched over a table, a black coat over his back. “When I went to change out of my tea-stained clothing,” he adds sharply.
“Thanks.”
“Don’t thank me. He’s pretty damn furious you two left without letting him know.”
“He’s not my keeper,” I say as I study a chart on the wall. The diagram is of a flower, each part labeled, but not with words I immediately recognize.
“Rainey, Elijah.” We turn to Heelean. “This is my husband, Fearghas the First.”
The man straightens, and I realize it wasn’t a coat on his back. As soon as he’s at full height, two large, black wings spread out, spanning at least five feet, he flexes them before tucking them away again and turning to face us.
Dark hair, soft eyes, the man is an older version of the fae we’ve come to know over the past few days. “Hello, Rainey, Elijah. ’Tis nice to meet ye both.”
“Fearghas has brought us a lunar witch.”
Fearghas the First’s eyes widen, and he stares at me with new appreciation. I swallow hard and do my best to appear confident when, in reality, I’m questioning every decision that brought me to this place.
He’s completely terrifying. Especially when his gaze shifts to Fearghas, and both eyes narrow. “Nice to see you, Son.”
Blood Cure: A Paranormal Vampire Romance (Vampire Huntress Chronicles Book 3) Page 18