by Donna Grant
And it was hers.
Erith looked down at her hand that gripped the sword. It had been so long since she’d held the weapon, but she still knew the weight of it, still recalled how it felt to swing the blade and end a life. Still recognized the absolute authority she commanded with it.
Erith had lied to Cael. She knew exactly how to defeat Bran. All she had to do was become the Mistress of War again. First, she would need to destroy a few realms to build back the last of her power that the sword couldn’t provide, and then she could return and take on Bran.
But in the process, she might very well destroy Earth—and Cael.
Which was only one of many reasons she wouldn’t go that route. Besides, she knew she would never come back from that if she did.
She didn’t want to think about how Cael and the others might look on her if they saw who she’d once been. No matter how much she tried to deny it, Cael’s opinion of her mattered more than anything else.
If she saw his gaze change from respect and admiration to revulsion and horror, she would never recover.
She continued toward the Fae doorway. The animals came toward her as always, but they didn’t get close. Not that she blamed them. She was a different person with the sword. Anger and loneliness and resentment had helped forge the weapon. And it radiated from the metal so all could feel it.
Erith approached the doorway. Just before she stepped through it, she wondered if Cael would be on the other side, protecting it as he once had. She didn’t want to see him.
Liar.
Yes, it was a lie. She yearned to see him, to talk to him. To . . . lay her hand on him and feel the heat of his skin, the strength of his muscles.
It might have been ages since she had first touched him, but the memory was still as fresh as if it had just happened. She would never forget the way he’d looked at her with a mixture of awe and desire.
No one had ever gazed at her in such a way before—or since. She had lost Reapers in the past, but she couldn’t lose Cael. It would destroy her more quickly and savagely than anything Bran thought to do to her.
Erith tightened her hold on the sword and walked through the doorway. The disappointment that filled her at not finding Cael was so great that her knees nearly buckled.
If she didn’t push aside such feelings, Bran would suss them out and use them against her. Before Bran syphoned her essence and magic, it had been easy to keep her feelings not only in check but also hidden.
Now, it felt like an open wound rubbed raw, one that could only be healed by Cael. The fact that she ached so desperately for him just made her stay away from him even more. Because she didn’t trust herself not to do something stupid like blurt out how she’d been in love with him for hundreds of years, even before she came to him to be a Reaper.
To have love so close yet so far away that it could never be hers was a crushing blow. She’d done it to herself, and while it was hard to bear at times, she wouldn’t change any of it. Simply because the Reapers needed Cael.
She needed him.
There was one person who could truly understand her dilemma like no other—Rhi. The Light Fae had fallen hard and fast for a Dragon King, but he’d foolishly ended the affair. It had nearly killed Rhi. While Erith understood his motives, she didn’t agree with them. Now, Rhi was helping the Dragon Kings with their many enemies.
Though none of that was why Erith had had Daire follow Rhi all those months. That was for something else entirely. Something that was quickly approaching. Erith just prayed Rhi was ready for it, because if she wasn’t, then everything could go sideways in a blink.
Erith hated that she wasn’t able to locate Bran as she could with others, but then he couldn’t find her either. It worked both in her favor and against her. But there was someone she could track—Seamus.
Erith veiled herself and smiled when she located the Dark Fae. In the next breath, she stood outside a grand mansion on a lavish estate with an immaculate garden as well as hundreds of acres of land. Of course, Bran would be in Ireland. It was close to the Fae, where he felt secure.
Unlike the Fae, her Reapers could not only see each other but also anyone else who was veiled. Since Bran was giving those in his army the same power she gave the Reapers, they could do the same.
But she was different. No one would be able to detect her, no matter what kind of magic they used.
No one but Bran.
She looked at the mansion, her eyes moving from window to window. On the bottom floor toward the left corner, she spotted a shape through the sheer drapes. She moved closer, making her way around the Dark, who were veiled and standing guard.
Ten feet from the window, she jerked to a stop when she saw that it was none other than Bran. She could end it all right now. The overwhelming need to fight him almost consumed her.
Just as she was about to take another step, she felt the magic before her. A thick barrier ran around the house. Anyone who touched it would alert Bran that they were there. And she had nearly done exactly that.
Erith couldn’t believe how blind she’d become from her anger, enough that she’d almost done something incredibly idiotic. She couldn’t afford to screw this up. Thankfully, she had felt the magic in time.
Frustrated, she began to turn away, when she heard a voice she recognized. Seamus. She walked around the side of the mansion, careful to keep clear of the magical barrier. She found Seamus with two other Dark, discussing how to get more Fae from the Dark Palace.
No one realized what type of king Balladyn was, but they were about to learn. And, frankly, she was looking forward to the showdown.
The conversation went on much longer than she liked. It was twenty minutes later before Seamus finally walked away. She fell into step beside him, wondering if the Dark had betrayed her as Cael suggested.
Erith considered herself a good judge of character, even though she’d made a few mistakes—Bran being one of them. She really didn’t want to include Seamus in that, as well.
Suddenly, the Fae stopped and, without moving his head, swung his eyes from right to left. “Is someone there?” he whispered.
She wanted to ask him what he’d found, but she wasn’t sure she could trust him. She didn’t wish for Bran to know that she’d discovered him. Right now, whether Seamus knew it or not, he was her key to Bran.
“Erith?” he whispered.
She moved to stand before him while remaining veiled. “Have you betrayed me?”
“No,” he replied immediately, his eyes jerking to where her voice had come from. “I can’t stay still. We need to walk.”
She moved out of the way and fell into step with him again. She said nothing else, waiting for him to answer her question.
“This is about me not telling Cael,” Seamus said, trying not to move his mouth. “I didn’t go to him because I knew as soon as I left your realm that Bran would have others looking for me. I was right. Within an hour, his men found me. If I’d called to Cael, Bran would’ve known.”
It was a plausible explanation. Then again, Seamus was used to talking himself out of difficult situations. He could, in fact, be lying straight to her face right now and she’d never know.
“I’m not lying,” he said as if reading her mind. “Bran already suspects me. I swore I’d help you. I’m not going back on that, but I’ve not been here long enough to get you anything. I have to do everything right, or Bran will kill me. Please, Erith. You can trust me.”
She leaned close to him so that her mouth was near his ear. “Don’t make me regret this.”
He flinched away, causing her to grin. She liked Seamus. It would be a shame to kill him, but she would in a heartbeat if he betrayed her.
She teleported away from the mansion before she gave in and went after Bran. It would feel good to get it over with. This had been going on for too long. If only she’d known he was syphoning her essence. She could have put a stop to it much sooner.
But Bran wanted her weak. What had she ever
seen in him that made her think he’d be a good Reaper? Perhaps because he’d been reckless. She’d once thought Cael was reckless, too. But in actuality, he was anything but. He was calculated, deliberate, and unhurried.
Because he saw everything so clearly.
Bran was nothing like Cael. And, now, she was paying the price.
Chapter Eight
His patience was running out. Normally, Cael didn’t have a problem, but then again, he hadn’t been fighting someone like Bran.
He stopped walking and turned to lean against an old, brick building in Limerick. He’d come to look for the Dark he’d seen in his mind—an impossible task, considering he had no idea who the Fae was. But he was the missing link to winning against Bran.
Yet it was thoughts of Erith that brought Cael up short.
No matter how he looked at it, he wasn’t upset about the upcoming battle with Bran. He was actually looking forward to it. What troubled him to the point that his mind was in such turmoil was Erith.
She didn’t need him. If anyone could face Bran and have the odds be in her favor—even in such a weakened state—it was Death. But it felt wrong that he wasn’t by her side.
Cael was all too aware that it was his feelings for her that ruled him. Those few minutes when he lay dying, watching her, he’d fallen head over heels for her.
Even if he’d known who she was, he wouldn’t have steeled his heart from loving her.
It was a beautiful kind of torture to be associated with her but never allowed to have her. Never able to hold her. Never able to kiss her.
Never able to love her.
She was the reason he was so wound up. Because he knew just how easy Bran could win.
After all the centuries with Erith, Cael had never imagined there could be anyone who could defeat her. There were some, like Bran, who would abuse power such as hers. But she didn’t.
She might have at one time, but that wasn’t who she was now. If Bran gained her power, every realm in the universe would be destroyed, one by one. Cael didn’t need to meditate to see that outcome.
Out of nowhere, rain began to fall. Others on the street ducked their heads, pulled up the hoods of their coats, or rushed indoors. Not Cael. He stood beneath the downpour and closed his eyes.
The feel of the drops on his face acted as the tears he wouldn’t—and couldn’t—shed. All the love, frustration, and despair within him filled each water droplet that tumbled from his face to the ground.
He could stand beneath the rain for a thousand years, and it still wouldn’t touch a thimbleful of his emotions for Erith. Nor could he allow himself to fall into such desolation. Whether he found the faceless Dark Fae he searched for or not, he wouldn’t let Erith or the Reapers down. They counted on him. So he would do what he did best.
Cael focused on the Reapers and Death because if he allowed himself to think about all the Fae, humans, and the various other beings in the vast universe, he would be crushed under the weight of it.
The rain soaked his clothes. He didn’t care about the cool temperatures or how the drops felt like needle-pricks on his skin. These few minutes were his to wallow in doubt and self-pity before he squared his shoulders and continued doing what he had to do.
When he opened his eyes, he found a woman across from him. But not just any woman. It was Rhi. The Light Fae held an umbrella over her as she stared at him as if he’d lost his mind.
“I’d ask if you were all right, but clearly, you’re not,” she stated.
Cael still didn’t know why Death was so interested in Rhi, but he’d seen firsthand the Fae’s incredible power. “I like the rain.”
“So do I, but that doesn’t mean I want to be soaked by it.” She flicked her long, black hair over her shoulder and propped a hand on her hip. “What’s up, studly?”
He took in her black outfit of stilettos, leather pants, and a sweater with a wide neck that fell off one shoulder. Rhi was always impeccably dressed. Most Fae were, but she took it to the next level. The one thing the Fae was known for was her constantly changing nail designs.
She frowned when he didn’t answer. Then, she looked at her hands and grinned before bending her wrist to let him see the bright pink, yellow, and white colors.
“The newest in my collection,” she stated. “No Turning Back from Pink Street, Sun, Sea, And Sand In My Pants, and Suzi Chases Portu-geese. Now, as flattered as I am that you noticed my nails, tell me what’s wrong.”
“I’m walking in the rain.”
“Yeah. I’m not buying that load of shite. Try again,” Rhi demanded, giving him a look that said she was prepared to stand there all day.
Cael ran a hand down his face, flicking off the water. “I’m looking for someone.”
“Oooh.” Rhi’s silver eyes brightened. “That sounds like fun. And I need something to do. I bought six pairs of shoes this morning, and I’m eyeing another three. So I’d like something else to do. Who are we after?”
He shrugged and shook his head, not bothering to hide his tight grin that was borne of anxiety and desperation. “I’ve no idea.”
“That just makes it harder, handsome. And that means things get fun.” Rhi moved closer so that her large umbrella covered him, as well. Her smile faded as she stared solemnly up at him. “Care to share why you need this Fae?”
Cael swallowed, wondering how much to tell her. Death had allowed Rhi to live despite her knowing who the Reapers were. Perhaps it was because Rhi tracked them with her own magic while they were veiled. Or, it could be because Rhi had fought against Bran.
Whatever the reason, Rhi was alive, and Cael didn’t want to change that. He might not know everything Death knew, but even he was aware of Rhi’s importance, not just to the Light Fae but to the Dragon Kings, as well.
Rhi adjusted her earring—a rhinestone skull dangling from her lobe—and flashed a bright grin. “You’re a Reaper. That means you can find anyone, anywhere. Right? I mean, at least I thought it did. Yet you’re wandering the streets. I know because I’ve been following you for the past half hour.”
For fek’s sake. Cael was really off his game if he hadn’t noticed that. He sighed and shrugged. “There’s a lot going on. And we’re only able to locate those that have been judged. Not just anyone.”
“I’m gathering that. I can also guess that you can’t tell me?”
“I’m not sure. You fought with us once. Maybe Death would let you again.”
Rhi rolled her eyes. “If you’re going to war, then you need all the allies you can muster. Just ask the Dragon Kings. I take it that wanker Bran is still causing havoc?”
“More than you know.”
“I really don’t like him. Why don’t you fill me in?”
Cael shook his head. “I’d love your help, but I’m not sure it’s wise. You’re going to be needed elsewhere.”
The beautiful Fae stared daggers at him. “I get to decide who I help and when. I still haven’t discovered why Death had Daire following me, and I want to know. If I help the Reapers, maybe she’ll impart something.”
Cael dropped his chin to his chest.
Rhi continued. “What I want to know is why Death doesn’t just snap her fingers and end this Bran dude? She is that powerful, after all. For all I know, she could be some goddess.” The Fae gasped in amazement. “She is, isn’t she?”
“I’ve no idea,” Cael answered honestly.
Rhi bent slightly and turned her head to look at him. “You’ve got me worried, studly. I don’t know you all that well, and the few times I’ve been around you, you’ve been really quiet, but even I can tell something is eating at you.”
“If something happened to this realm, the Dragon Kings would fight it, wouldn’t they?”
The Fae frowned as she straightened. “What something are we talking about?”
Cael lifted his head before he twisted his lips. “Something like Bran.”
Rhi searched his face before she gave a nod. “The Kings will fight anything and a
nyone who tries to harm their world.”
“They’ve never fought against someone like Bran.”
“He’s just a Reaper.”
Cael gave a shake of his head. “He’s been syphoning Death’s magic and life essence.”
“Damn.” Rhi stood there as the rain pelted the umbrella. “And the Dark you’re looking for? Does he work for Bran?”
“He could either side with us or Bran. I believe he could be one who turns the tide of the war.”
Rhi put her hand on his arm. “Now I understand why you’ve been walking around in a daze.”
“Bran won’t just kill Death and the Reapers, he’ll come after this world, as well.”
“Good luck with that,” Rhi said with a snort. “The Dragon Kings are fierce, Cael. Not even they know the extent of their power. If Bran faced off against them, my bet would be on the Kings.”
“You have that much faith in them?”
She gave him a dose of side-eye. “Honey cakes, I’ve seen them fight.”
“Bran has an army of Dark.”
“The Kings are one unit. It doesn’t matter how many men Bran has. He won’t be able to compete with that. But we’re getting ahead of ourselves. You’re already thinking Death has lost.”
Cael shot her a hard look. “I have not. I like to look at the options and attempt to find my way through each of them.”
“Maybe you don’t need the Dark Fae you’re searching for. Maybe all you need is me.”
“No,” he said emphatically.
She smiled and batted her thick-lashed eyes at him. “You don’t think I’m capable?”
“I think you’re more than capable. But you fought against Bran before. He’ll recognize you.”
“I’m counting on that.”
“The hell you are,” Cael said as he pushed away from the wall and brought himself nose-to-nose with her.
Rhi shoved him back. “Do you know how he’s stealing Death’s power?”
“No, but th—”
“I’m going to find out.” She turned and started walking away.
Cael glanced at the sky in annoyance as he was once more drenched before he hurried to follow her. “Dammit, Rhi. Stop being so stubborn. This is madness.”