Moment of Truth

by Edwards, Hailey

  “We outfitted Ares with an ankle monitor,” his mother added. “If she turns on us, she won’t get far.”

  The thick bands contained GPS chips for tracking but could also deploy several needlelike spikes designed to pierce skin and pump the wearer full of bronze nitrate with a press of a button. Between the two, Ares wouldn’t evade recapture. It was as good as they could hope for, given the circumstances.

  “Hope for the best,” he said. “Plan for the worst.”

  “The coven has reminded us of that,” she said somberly. “We take nothing for granted.”

  Midas turned to Hadley, but her troubled expression hinted she was chewing over all they had learned.

  “I have to go.” His mother smiled as two enforcers, who had chased after them on four legs, caught up with them. The few blocks barely winded them. “I need to check in with the others.”

  Tongues lolling, her guards followed her out to organize their forces from the frontline.

  “I’m going to coordinate with Tisdale,” Bishop said. “We need to keep our people all on the same page.”

  The pair set a course for the enforcers, heads bowed in conversation, the guards trotting after them.

  The scent of witchborn fae blood tickled his nose, and Midas spun to find Remy, bathed in flaking crimson and reeking of copper and black magic, walking toward them.

  “You made it out.” Hadley tackled her with a hug. “Thank the goddess.”

  “Ow, ow, ow.” Remy shoved at her. “Even my bruises have bruises right now.”

  Midas examined her, but she appeared to be all in one piece. “How did you escape?”

  “Natisha thought she knocked me unconscious. I wasn’t out, I just had to catch my breath. I bolted up the stairs the second she turned her back.”

  Hadley beat him to it. “The hearts?”

  “She passed out the hearts from the backpack to five of her daughters and kept one for herself. They ate them, and then left with five more coven members.” Remy lifted her tee to reveal vicious gashes crisscrossing her side and back, made by gwyllgi claws. “The remaining daughter was supposed to force me to sacrifice the last practitioner in exchange for my life, but I wasn’t in the mood.”

  Natisha’s ruthless practicality didn’t surprise him, but her disregard for life still turned his stomach.

  “How much of that blood is yours?” Hadley’s hands shook. “Are you okay?”

  “Okay as I’m going to get.” She tugged her shirt down again. “I hamstrung the final daughter, and the practitioner stayed to watch over her. I couldn’t get through to Faerie. You guys smashed the portal too well. I had to return to Buckhead, pick up my car, and race back here.”

  The way she drove, race was the exact word he would use.

  “The circle is still holding then.” Hadley blew out a huff of breath. “No one’s broken it to trip the alarm.”

  For whatever reason, Natisha had decided to stay within the circle, close to the portal.

  “There are strange gwyllgi in the streets with the stink of Faerie on them.” Remy rubbed at a dry stain on her cheek. “How did they get here?”

  A deep frown gathered in the corners of Hadley’s mouth. “Good question.”

  As they watched, Natisha linked hands with her daughters and their sacrifices around the portal.

  Both hands, as in, she had two arms. He looked again, counted again, and was stunned all over again.

  Hours passed at half-speed in the archive, but he had never witnessed such a feat in so short a time.

  There were definite perks to being a fae healer as old as stardust.

  “We need to get in there,” Hadley murmured. “Break up their party before it gets started.”

  “I know what Liz is carrying.” Remy grabbed her arm. “You can use her, and the baby, as leverage.”

  The idea of bartering a child left a bad taste in his mouth, but the coven had brought them here. He despised the idea of Hadley lowering herself to the coven’s level, but she had to speak a language they understood.

  Torn between hanging back to listen and rushing forward to confront Natisha, Hadley rocked on her heels. “This is about to get worse, isn’t it?”

  “Archie—whatever his name was—struck a bargain with the coven, okay? He wanted to breed more fae blood into his pack to strengthen their magic. The deal was, the coven kept the girls and the pack kept the boys. It worked until a girl was born with immense power, and Archie decided to keep her. He lied to the coven, told them she was stillborn, but they could sense her. They found the baby, called Archie on his lie, then slapped him in the face with the fine print on their contract. Near as I can tell, he literally sold his soul in the bargain.”

  “You’re not serious.” Hadley gawped at her. “His soul?”

  “The patriarch of our pack was an idiot,” Midas realized. “I’m shocked Natisha let us live this long.”

  “You’ve still got your looks.” Remy smirked. “That’s what really matters.” She snickered. “To Hadley.”

  “Hello?” Hadley snapped her fingers at the end of Remy’s nose. “Get to the point.”

  “Natisha jumped in bed with the coven after they added her wolf man to their closet.” She slapped away Hadley’s hand. “She wanted him back. Not because she loved him or whatever. She wanted to punish him. They refused. Told her they couldn’t hand him over even if they wanted to, which they didn’t, but anyway. He was spirit, not flesh.”

  The origin story for his pack had always been told the same way, handed down from parent to child, as a way to honor those long-distant relatives who founded their pack with an act of love. He figured it had been embellished, the edges smoothed, but he never considered it might be entirely false.

  Archimedes had spun a story to earn him condolences and his children acceptance. He spread it as his pack grew, passing it down through the generations until it was known, until it was fact, until it was truth.

  But it was a lie.

  Maybe not every single detail, but enough to change the narrative in his favor.

  To rub salt in the wound, Archimedes had given his daughters their mother’s true name so they could call on her in times of great need. They had passed it down through their line, forcing Natisha to watch as her children’s children were born, lived, and died. From the outside. Without ever knowing them.

  The cycle was never ending.

  Neither was the servitude.

  No wonder she fisted her grudge with both hands. No wonder she wanted to wipe out his family line.

  “She did all this to get his soul back?” Midas pursed his lips. “What good would that do her?”

  “Plenty.” Reaching out, Remy booped him on the nose. “If she could reincarnate him.”

  “Oh frak.” Hadley got there before he did. “That’s the child price?”

  “Liz is pregnant with the spirit of Archimedes?” Midas stared, dumbfounded. “That’s…”

  “Creepy.” Hadley shivered. “It’s morbid to impregnate someone with your ex-lover’s spirit.”

  Not to mention it cost the baby Liz conceived its soul to make room for Archimedes to claim its body.

  “Will he be himself when he’s born?” Midas’s protective instincts roared to life within him. “Or will he truly be a child?”

  “He will be himself,” Remy confirmed, “fully awake and aware. That’s the point. She wants to make his life a living hell, and she plans on starting from day one.”

  Using shorthand, he texted his mother a condensed version of what they had learned to prepare her.

  “Goddess,” Hadley breathed. “Natisha has truly gone around the bend.”

  Done with his update, he pocketed his phone. “And Archimedes is the one who drove her there.”

  “We still have to stop her.” Hadley rested a hand on his arm. “She’s taken her revenge too far.”

  “I know.” He covered her hand with his. “I wish things could have been different.”

  Old fae were too
set in their ways to bend. It never would have occurred to Natisha to ask his mother to simply let her true name die with her generation. She wouldn’t have considered asking for help, or a favor. It wasn’t how things were done in Faerie. It was more natural for her to use threats, cunning, and hatred to fix a problem.

  “We can’t let her leave.” Hadley turned back to Natisha and her motley coven with a scowl. “She’ll head straight for the Faraday and kill anyone who gets in her way.”

  To have come this far, Natisha wouldn’t leave Atlanta without her prize.

  “There must be a way,” he murmured, his gaze locked onto Natisha. “Maybe if we…”

  “No more deals.” Hadley cupped his face, forcing him to meet her gaze. “We can’t bargain this away.”

  “You’re right.” He rested his hands over hers. “No good would come of that.”

  Power blasted out from Natisha’s circle, striking them with a burst of foul black magic.

  An almost tangible layer of negative energy encased Midas, leaving a residue on his skin that stung.

  He stared at his hands, his arms, then rubbed them, but the sensation persisted, the burn constant.

  “It’s begun.” A chill swept through Hadley, raising gooseflesh on her arms. “We have to end this.”

  “I need to grab something I stashed.” Remy took a step back. “Don’t start the party without me.”

  “Too late for that.” Hadley pulled him after her. “I hope you wore your dancing shoes.”

  They broke apart, Remy sprinting away from danger, and Hadley, as usual, rushing straight for it.

  Nineteen

  I had trouble digesting all the twists and turns unfolding around us as Natisha’s scheme came to fruition. I had never loved a man before Midas, but I could imagine the world of hurt I would be in if he pretended to love me, knocked me up—twice—and then kidnapped our children to build his own empire without me.

  I’d had a small taste once, of living without him, and it almost broke me. How much worse had it been for Natisha? She lost so much more than me. For good. There had been no reconciliation for them.

  History didn’t always get it right, everyone knew that, but Archimedes’s slander campaign against Natisha was impressive in how widely accepted his narrative was among their descendants.

  Natisha’s was the only firsthand account remaining, but it belonged to the injured party. There was no way to tell how accurate her perception was of those events. After centuries of replaying them, picking them apart, she wasn’t a trustworthy witness.

  A victim she might be, but she had crafted herself into a villainess too.

  Ultimately, I couldn’t let myself care about the reasons behind her actions. I couldn’t let myself side with her. I was in no position to judge her or Archimedes, or to assign guilt to one party over the other. If even a fraction of what she said was the truth, then she had a right to her anger. But she had taken it too far.

  Now my hands were tied. I couldn’t help her. I had no choice but to do my duty, and that meant protecting innocents from a fae gone mad with grief and heartache. I might sympathize with her, but that didn’t mean I wouldn’t do everything in my power to stop her.

  As we reached the knot of enforcers ringing the portal, Ford and Hank jogged out to meet us.

  “Thanks for ditching us.” Ford scowled at Midas. “We got all dolled up with no place to go.”

  “Bishop gave me time-sensitive information I had to act on.” Midas clasped hands with him. “I’m sorry.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” Ford yanked me into a hug. “Neither of you have a lick of sense.”

  “Don’t hate.” I squeezed him back. “Someone’s got to save the world.”

  “Doesn’t always have to be you,” he grumbled. “I’m glad you fell in love with Midas instead of me.”

  “Okay, I’ll bite.” Pulling away, I frowned up at him. “Why?”

  “I don’t have the heart or the nerves for it.” His expression softened. “Lisbeth is a much better fit for me. She’s kind, beautiful, intelligent, funny, and she hardly ever almost dies.”

  “Gee,” I said flatly. “Thaaanks.”

  Midas, I noticed, didn’t rush in to fish my reputation out of the frying pan.

  “You might want this back.” Hank passed Midas his phone. “The screen was cracked when we found it.”

  Out of time to play catch up, I gathered them around me. “I’m going to bring down the circle.”

  As it stood, it wasn’t much of a deterrent for paranormals, but we needed any advantage we could get.

  “What’s the objective here?” Ford watched them a minute. “Why set up camp around the portal?”

  “Long story short,” I began, “Natisha is targeting Tisdale and her family with a bloodline curse.”

  An immediate growl bubbled up the back of Ford’s throat, and Hank was right there with him.

  Their agitation brought Ambrose creeping out of my shadow to study the field and the players.

  A stabbing pain pierced my skull, making me wince, but it dispersed into less agonizing waves.

  “Oww. Oww. Oww.” I massaged my temples. “Anyone else feel that?”

  “No.” Midas pivoted toward me. “What’s wrong?”

  “The circle is broken.” I checked with Ambrose, who confirmed. “The feedback hit me, that’s all.”

  “If your circle is down,” Ford said, stepping forward, “what’s that?”

  Lightning crackled, illuminating a transparent dome that shielded the portal, and I had to shut my eyes.

  The information flowed through me, as if Ambrose stood beside me and whispered it in my ear.

  “I was wrong.” I studied the area again. “She didn’t break my circle. She built her own on top of it.”

  “Why…?” Midas angled his head. “She’s using it to power her own.”

  The feedback hit me harder for it too. Instead of a warning tingle, it had zapped me between the eyes.

  “The coven loves its concentric wards,” I reminded them. “That circle is now a double layer of bad news we can’t cross.”

  But all Natisha had to do was smudge the circles from the inside to drop them and unleash their foul curse.

  “How do we get in?” Hank anchored his fists on his hips. “There must be a way.”

  There was, goddess help me, and I ran to find Bishop before it was too late.

  Tisdale spotted me and tapped Bishop on the shoulder. He turned, saw me, and met me halfway.

  Swallowing my fear, I asked, “Can you do what you do and get me in their circle?”

  “Are you sure?” He found places other than me to look. “You want to risk it again?”

  “Yes.” I glanced back, unsurprised to find Midas had followed me. “I’ll do anything to save him.”

  “Hadley,” Midas said softly, so much love packed into two syllables it made my heart squeeze to hear it.

  He extended his arm, his fingers within reach of my cheek, then his eyes rolled back in his head.

  A cry of fear and outrage rose from a dozen yards away, and I knew Tisdale had fallen too.

  The curse…

  …it was striking at them through the circle, its focus was so powerful.

  “Midas.” I fisted his shirt, but there was no time to pull on Ambrose for strength, and Midas’s weight fell on me. “Wake up.” We hit the dirt together. “Do you hear me?” I dragged him into my arms. “Wake up.”

  A slight angling of his head toward me confirmed he could still hear me.

  “You can’t die on me now. I haven’t seen you in Spock ears. You owe me that much.”

  The heavy rise and fall of his chest was his only response.

  “Hadley.” Bishop rested a hand on my shoulder. “We have to go.”

  “I can’t leave him.” Tears stung my eyes. “He’s… He’s…”

  The word hung in my throat, kept me from swallowing, and it cut me each time I tried.

  “You can save them.” Bishop dug in
his fingers. “But you can’t do it from here.”

  I wasted precious seconds indulging the war between my head and my heart.

  “Okay,” I exhaled, knowing he was right, but I didn’t budge from the spot.

  “Go.” Remy reappeared after fetching my swords from her car and stood over him. “I’ll protect him.”

  Heart thundering in my ears, I shook my head, unable to feel my legs. “I can’t do it.”

  “He’ll die if you don’t.” Bishop hauled me upright. “You can do this, kid, but you have to do it now.”

  “I won’t let anyone touch him,” Remy promised. “I’ll slice off their fingers if they point in his direction.”

  “Thank you.” I wiped my cheeks dry then turned to Bishop. “Let’s do this.”

  Linking our fingers, he dragged me into the deepest shadows, through a thin membrane of resistance, and into the icy heart of Faerie in winter.

  The path might have been the same, or it may have been different. With no landmarks to dot the way, I couldn’t tell. That disconcerted me, but I took comfort in Ambrose’s companionship. He had shifted into a dog again and frolicked around us like he was exploring snow for the first time.

  Amusing as it might be, I couldn’t focus on him when my heart kept pounding out a single word.

  Midas. Midas. Midas.

  “Just there,” Bishop said, his voice arctic. “Brace yourself.”

  Expecting the sculptures again, I goggled up at an enormous manor built from bricks of ice using snow as mortar. The shadows it cast were deep, alive, hungry. Bishop jogged toward them, hauling me after him, and leapt, feeding us to their waiting maw.

  We burst through to the other side before I could do more than wonder at the enormous house or who lived there and hit the ground on my side hard enough to jar my teeth.

  Impact knocked the wind out of me, and I nearly got my head stomped in for emerging from a shadow cast by one of the witchborn fae. Her sister kicked me in the ribs, but I rolled out of range before she did any real damage. They had to keep their hands linked and their voices raised to fuel the curse, which limited their range of motion.

  Spry as a cat, Bishop had landed on his feet. He offered me a hand up then placed himself at my back.