by Maribel Fox
“They claim to be here for unrelated reasons. I was told they will avoid harming the locals—”
I scoff, and Micah gives me an expression that says he concurs with my assessment.
“But I would assume they are primed to attack at any moment. It is the only safe assumption.”
“Fuck,” I groan, dragging my hand over my face with a heavy sigh. I don’t know why I thought things might have improved while I was away, but clearly that is not the case. If anything, things have only escalated.
“And the drunk? Where’s he?”
“Also missing since last night, I am afraid. He and Ava shared some heated words and…”
I lift my brows. Seamus losing his temper is notable — what could have pushed him to that point?
“Oi, ‘m not missing,” Seamus calls. From where, I’m not sure. Micah and I both look around curiously for the phantom Irishman, but it’s me that finally spots him lounging in a nearby tree.
“Had enough talkin’ when no one’s doin’ any listenin’,” he says.
“Okay, so one problem down,” I say, ignoring his pouting. I don’t know what happened between him and Ava, but I’m not sure I want to get involved. “Still about a thousand to go.”
Seamus rolls his eyes and hops out of the tree.
“You act like ye’ve never faced poor odds before,” he says, crossing his arms, giving both Micah and me a sterner look than I thought him capable of. “Is that not what makes victory so sweet? Plucking it from the jaws of defeat? ‘Sides, you wanna live forever? Better to die gloriously for a cause than roll over and show our bellies to those bastards.”
I can’t say I disagree with him, but I would like to find an option for solving this that doesn’t end in death or defeat. That would be great.
“Poor odds is an understatement,” says Micah matter-of-factly. “There are five of us — four without Kushiel — and Ava does not yet have a handle on her magic, nor does she seem inclined to gain one. There are dozens of Celestial soldiers waiting to attack.”
Seamus has a retort ready to go, but it’s then that the doors of the B&B open and Ava comes running outside in her pajamas.
“There you guys are!” she says, rushing over, sending alarm racing through me. She looks flustered, distressed, and it makes me itch to come to her aid, to threaten anyone who would think to harm her.
She hugs me first, flinging her arms around me. Then she does the same to Seamus, and to Micah, all the while talking at a hundred miles a minute, words pouring forth too quickly to comprehend.
“Sorry… immature and whiny… freaking out…”
“Ava, slow down,” Seamus says, grabbing her by the shoulders. “What’re you on about?”
She sits on the edge of the picnic table top, Micah on one side of her, me on the other, Seamus right in front. She looks at each of us in turn, biting her lip, eyes roving constantly. She blows out a heavy breath.
“You were right about me. About me being childish for not accepting my fate and what I can do. I was scared, afraid of hurting someone again with magic I don’t understand. But that’s not an excuse and learning to handle it is the best way to keep it from hurting people.” She takes a deep breath, and I see her trembling even though she manages to keep her voice even. “I’m ready to do what needs to be done… If you guys are still willing to assist?”
Seamus is grinning like a fool, Micah looks concerned, yet resigned. I’m not sure what to say. It seems like a suicide pact. Micah just explained how we can’t possibly come out ahead, and yet…
I’d gladly follow Ava into battle, even if it means marching to my death. Even if it means disappointing my family, tarnishing our name, destroying my reputation as a perfect, respectable son. Because once this gets out — news of me teaming up with a Fae — there’s no going back to Hell for me. This is it.
“What the hell?” I say, grinning, a strange sense of euphoria spreading through me at the decision.
Ava smiles, looks like she’s going to say something, but then there’s a sound from the woods that draws all our attention.
Shouting.
Desperate shouting.
I can’t make it out, but we’re all on high alert, and then Ian breaks through the tree line at full speed, racing up from the beach path, completely out of breath.
Ava relaxes a hair, then scowls. “Ian O’Gowan, were you at the beach by yourself?”
“Kush…” he pants through great gasping breaths.
“What? You saw him?” Micah asks, jumping to his feet. Ava and I are already springing to action too.
“Where, Ian? Where did you see him?” she asks.
“The beach…” He sucks in another deep rasping breath, lip quivering as he looks up at his sister. “I think he’s dead.”
27
Ava
“Oh my god, Kush!” I cry, falling to the sand next to him. He’s shirtless and badly beaten, battered and broken and cold to the touch.
My heart goes to my throat, a tight lump forming.
He’s…
I can’t even think it. I can’t believe it. It can’t be. I was only just getting to know him. Only starting to understand how much I really care… How much he means to me.
The others are all gathered around, but everyone else sees what I do. It’s too late. We’re too late.
“Look away, lad,” Seamus says, as he wraps his arm around Ian and pulls him close. For some reason, that’s what breaks me. I fling my arms around Kush and hold on tight. Maybe if I hold him tight enough, maybe if I squeeze him hard enough, he’ll come back.
Please come back, I think. I haven’t had enough time with you.
I need you.
Kush is the easy-going one, the one that makes every situation better. He’s the one that would be able to make me laugh right now, that would be able to lighten the mood. But he’s not here. He’s…
Sobs wrack my shoulders, and I can’t stop the tears. They flow and flow, pooling on his chest, running down his sides.
“Please, Kush… You can’t be,” I cry, everything about this feeling surreal. He was fine the last time I saw him. Fine.
And now he’s…
I can’t believe the number of bruises on his body, the beating they must have given him. But why? What could they have wanted from him that badly?
And then to just dump him here?
Or did he escape?
My heart clenches at the thought of him making it out, escaping, getting this far only to…
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper, pressing my lips to his bare chest, tasting the salt of my own tears.
There’s a hand on my shoulder, then another. Raj is on one side of me and Micah is on the other, both of them offering their support, their comfort. Both of them wrestling with their own emotions.
I cling to Kush still, willing it not to be real, willing him to come back to me, thinking maybe if I wish it hard enough it’ll happen. I don’t know how long I’m there crying for, but it must be longer than I think, because I’m tired. I’m exhausted, like all the energy has just drained out of me and there’s nothing left. Those tears were it.
Micah’s fingers curl into my shoulder, his grip tense. It sends a spike of panic through me and I look up at him, heart in my throat, wondering what…
I follow his eyes and he’s looking down at Kush, at the place my tears and my kiss were left. The spot is shimmering, and the shimmering is spreading all over Kush’s body, erasing his wounds like they were never there.
“What’s—” I start to ask, but the words are lost, replaced only by awe.
Somehow, some way, I think I’m healing him? I hold my hand out, and even that takes a lot of effort, my arm heavy, muscles weak. Against Kush’s sun-kissed tan, I’m downright ghostly. I’m not normally that pale...
“Did I…? Am I…?” I stammer, head fuzzy, all my thoughts soft around the edges like the focus is off. The horizon swims in the distance, waves making me sway as my skin goes hot and cold
all at once. I’m sweating, but I’m freezing, and Seamus has realized that something’s up, leading Ian over to the rest of us.
“Reckon you’ve figured out your healing powers, then?” he asks, seeming unsurprised.
“My—” I whisper.
“Ava are you alright?” Raj asks, kneeling beside me, swiping the back of his hand tenderly across my brow.
“I don’t know… I think so?” I mutter, clinging to his shoulder, his eyes keeping me steady as I slow my breath and force my mind to stop swirling.
“It can’t be,” Micah whispers, drawing my attention back to Kush.
“Kush!” Ian cries first, beating me to it. It’s the only exclamation that comes to mind at the unbelievable sight before me.
Kush, not only looking as good as new, his gorgeous golden skin unmarred by bruising, is slowly stirring, blinking, and sitting up, pulling me upright with him. I’m so surprised to see him awake, alive, breathing, that it takes me a minute to realize he’s also is sporting something I’ve never seen him with — wings.
“Well I’ll be damned,” Seamus mutters.
“Likely,” Raj says under his breath.
“Kush… Are you?” I ask, hesitant to reach out to him, scared that if I do it won’t be real, and he’ll disappear like a mirage. I still feel kind of woozy and I’m wondering if maybe I passed out and this is a dream.
“Ava,” he breathes, enveloping me in his arms in one quick movement. He crushes me against him, lips capturing mine in a kiss that sends heat racing between my legs. His strong arms are so tight around me and I never want them to leave again. I never want him to leave again. The new wings of his flutter and wrap around me, enveloping me in their soft feathery caress. It’s pure bliss, and I shudder, melting into him before reality seeps back in.
“You scared the shit out of me,” I cry, smacking him on the arm, then sinking against him again, sagging with unimaginable relief.
“Didn’t mean to,” he says, slowly raising up to his feet, pulling me with him.
“Kushiel… You have—” Micah says, jaw still dropped.
“You have wings!” Ian says, eyes wide as saucers.
Kush looks alarmed, even as he looks down and sees them wrapped around me protectively. They retract from me and fan out, feathers fluttering almost like they’re as alarmed as he is, then Kush turns, spinning in a circle like a dog discovering his tail for the first time. He stretches and flexes the wings — feathers rich and brown, striped like an eagle’s.
“How in the—” he mutters, then looks at me for an answer. “My wings were removed by an angelic weapon, no healing should be able to restore them,” he says, fluttering them like he’s still not sure they’re real, he’s still not sure he believes it.
“How should I know? I didn’t even know I could heal.”
“I told ye, ye didn’t wanna listen,” Seamus mutters.
I roll my eyes, turning to him. “Yes, yes. You told me so, you get a gold star,” I say, grinning at him. It’s hard to be annoyed right now after this roller coaster of emotions. It’s hard to be angry or upset by anything. I’ve got all my guys here — they’re all back, all safe with me — what more could I ask for?
Well, I guess it would be nice if Heaven wasn’t still planning on attacking me.
“How did you escape?” Micah asks, face grim.
Kushiel turns to the other angel guilt creasing his features. Then, he surprises us all and hugs Micah.
“I’m sorry for what I put you through, partner. And for not coming clean sooner about the whole thing. Though I suspect, after your little visit to the encampment, that you’re as aware of their transgressions as I am.”
Micah hugs him back, fierce protective love radiating from the two of them. I can’t imagine how much it hurt to be apart all those years. If that was me and Rue? Separated for sixty years, thinking she’s dead?
Yeah, I’d probably be bawling like a baby when we reunited.
“They cannot be trusted,” Micah says in agreement as he pulls away.
“Welcome to the dark side,” Kush says grinning.
“Is anyone going to talk about the wings?” Ian asks impatiently, getting laughs from all of us.
“Guess there’s some things I need to explain to you, kiddo,” I say with a heavy sigh. No point hiding it now. He’s going to be a part of this no matter what, and this secret is just too big.
“Aye, but this isn’t the place for it,” Seamus says, looking around warily.
“Agreed, we are too exposed here,” Raj says.
“You’re not fooling me. You just want to go back to the bar for a drink after all this,” I tease the both of them, already slipping an arm around Ian to lead him back up the beach path.
“At this hour of the day?” Seamus asks, mock-offended. “What do you take me for?”
“A clurichaun,” I say, deadpan. His eyes glimmer at me, and I’m sure he’s pleased I’m no longer in denial.
It’s crazy, it’s impossible to believe — but it’s real. I can’t deny that anymore. It’s real, and there’s a lot at stake here. I’ve already almost lost one of these guys, and I’m not going to let anything happen to any of them again.
Seamus said something last night that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about — a Queen protects her lands and her people. I may not have ever asked to be Queen, but does anyone really? Aren’t most queens born into a life they have no control over? Forced into responsibility they may not want?
Why should I be special? Why should I be able to avoid that fate?
But really, maybe it’s not so bad. These powers of mine, they’re dangerous, but they’re more than that — they have the ability to heal, as well as harm. That’s something I never considered before. All these years terrified of myself, and I never considered that these powers could be used for good.
Yeah, sometimes I’m really dumb. But I figure it out eventually. I’m just glad Ian was there this time to point me in the right direction.
The six of us walking together up the beach path, covered in wet sand, already exhausted but oh-so-relieved, just feels right. This is my family. These are my guys. And the fact that they all love Ian and are carefully answering every question he can possibly pose about the supernatural world only makes it better.
Finding one guy who’s sweet and sexy and is patient with my little brother seems like a one-in-a-million shot already. But four?
I’m not sure how I managed to win that lottery. It’s way better than any amount of money could be, though. No fat bank account could ever make me feel as secure and adored as these four men do.
Now I just have to figure out how to keep them all.
Never expected to be saying that, but that just goes to show you how unpredictable and wild life can be sometimes. There’s that old line about you find happiness when you’re least expecting it. Well, I wasn’t only not expecting it, I didn’t even think it existed. Then it came out of nowhere and made itself right at home.
No complaints here.
28
Seamus
Rue’s pouring the drink for me before I even get to the bar, and her eyes are goin’ around to all the others, brows raised high.
“Everything all right?” she asks, sliding a beer over to me.
“Whiskey kind of day,” I answer, downing the beer with a sidelong glance Ava’s way.
They pick a table, and all sit around it.
“Ian, go sit with Rue,” Ava says, patting him on the head.
“But I wanna be part of the plans!” he protests.
“I’m sure you do, but I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Ava says.
Ian huffs, and trudges over to the bar, grateful to accept the root beer Rue’s already got ready for him.
“What’s going on? What kind of plans?” Rue asks.
Not sure how much to tell her to be honest. Not sure what Ava wants to do about that situation. But it’s gonna be hard to miss noticing everything that’s going on.
“Heaven wants Seamus’s sword,” Ian says plainly. Rue gives him an odd look, then turns it on me. I shrug. Can’t argue with the lad but confirming it’s only gonna lead to more questions. Right now, I’ve got an ear tuned to the table where Ava and the others are discussing the inevitable attack.
“Seamus and I can flank the house,” Raj says, “and the two with wings can cover the sky. The B&B is protected by geological features on two sides, so holding our ground here is our best bet.”
I scoff while trying to pretend not to care about their chat. Pretending my mind’s elsewhere. Where else could it be, though? With Ava here, with the army breathin’ down our necks?
They think I’m not payin’ attention, but I always am. Always waiting for an attack. Fae don’t get to be my age without being paranoid, grizzled bastards. Plenty of people have tried to kill me — not an insignificant number of them from Heaven — and my knack for self-preservation’s always come out on top.
But I never had to look out for anyone else before. It’s always been me alone. No court, no family.
They’re yammering on and on about their tactics and how the numbers are going to stack up, but they’re being daft. The whole lot of them.
“Ya goin’ into battle without considerin’ your strongest weapon?” I ask, taking my drinks with me, pulling up a chair at the table with them.
“Feeling a little full of yourself, Fae?” Raj asks with a smirk.
“Not me, you idjit, Ava.”
“Me?” she asks, eyes going wide, shaking her head already.
Thought we were past that nonsense.
“She is untrained,” Raj protests.
“She is still coming to term with her powers,” Micah adds, nodding at Raj.
“Not to mention the mondo-magical stunt she pulled bringing me back from the dead,” says Kush. “Asking Ava to fight is too much, dude, no way.”