by Donna Grant
Bran’s lips flattened. “Only Reapers work together.”
“Not this time.”
Bran shrugged. “I’ve my own betrayer I’m looking for. He took something from me that I need back.”
“I can send my Hunters after him for you,” Usaeil offered.
Cael frowned when he heard a third person in the room snort. He turned his head to find Seamus beside him, held with the same magic as Cael. Sweat dripped from what was left of the Dark’s face. One eyeball moved and briefly met Cael’s gaze.
Without a doubt, Cael knew that Bran had used his purple orbs of magic on Seamus, and if the Dark appeared that bad, Cael could only imagine how he looked.
Seamus coughed, blood dripping from his lips as he returned his attention to Bran. “You can look all you want. Xaneth is long gone.”
“That’s not possible,” Usaeil screeched as she glared at Bran. “You had him? You had Xaneth?”
Bran cut her an offended glare. “Xaneth joined my army before betraying me. You never said the name of the Fae you wanted. How the fek was I to know the Dark I now look for and your nephew are one and the same?”
Usaeil threw up her hands in disgust. “This is just great. What did he take from you?”
“Something he’ll never get back,” Seamus said with a laugh.
Cael looked at the Dark, hoping against hope that Seamus and Xaneth had somehow stolen whatever it was that Bran had been using to syphon Death’s life.
Hope erupted into outright glee when Seamus shot him a smile before winking with his good eye.
Bran let out a bellow of anger and threw volley after volley of purple orbs at Seamus until there was nothing left of the Dark but a splatter on the wall.
“No one betrays me,” Bran stated, his chest heaving from exertion. His gaze moved to Cael. “Don’t think I haven’t missed the optimism in your eyes. I want you to cling to that pitiful feeling so that I’ll get even more gratification when I yank it away.”
“I know you’ll kill me,” Cael said. “But you’ve lost your treasure. The one thing you had over Death is gone. You had the opportunity to end her, but you prolonged her torment for too long, and now she has the upper hand again. You’ll never win.”
Usaeil put her hands on her hips as she came to stand beside Bran. “The hell he won’t. He has me.”
“You?” Cael said with a laugh. He instantly regretted the action because of the pain it caused, but it was worth it to see the queen’s frown. “Death has already judged you. You think you’ve escaped the Reapers? You’re wrong. So very wrong.”
Usaeil crossed her arms and raised a brow, not quite hiding her worry. “Then why haven’t you come for me?”
“Death has something special planned just for you.” Cael had no idea what Erith intended to do with the queen, but he’d heard enough from her to know that it would be something big.
“Don’t listen to him,” Bran said to Usaeil. “He’s trying to get under your skin. Besides, once I take over as Death, you’ll be judged again.”
Usaeil raised a black brow. “How do I know you aren’t lying?”
“We made a pact,” Bran answered.
“To fight the Reapers and Death together. My army is at the ready, waiting for my call.”
Bran faced her, looking bored. “That pact also had the part where I would back your play to merge the Light and Dark Fae together. Or did you forget that bit?”
“No,” Usaeil said with a bright smile. “I just wanted you to say it again.”
“We bound it through magic, Usaeil. Neither of us can break our word.”
Cael looked between the two. He should’ve realized that Usaeil would join Bran, but he hadn’t entertained that thought since he’d been so focused on stopping Bran from getting whatever it was he was after.
Now, Cael really wished he had Rhi there to help him. All he had to do was call her name, but he wouldn’t do it. As Erith had told him, this wasn’t Rhi’s fight. It might very well get the Fae killed, and Death had plans for Rhi.
Usaeil motioned to Cael with her hand. “I’m tired of looking at his grotesque form. Kill him.”
Bran raised a brow at her. “Are you giving me orders?”
“I am queen,” she said.
“Not of me.”
Usaeil rolled her eyes. “Of course, I am. You’re Light Fae.”
“Sweetheart, I’ve not been a Light since I became a Reaper. You seem to have a habit of not remembering things. I told you, a Fae stops being either Light or Dark when they become a Reaper.”
Unfazed, Usaeil shrugged. “You were a Light once. That makes me your queen.”
Bran stalked to her, backing her up, and making her trip twice until she met a wall. He held her gaze, silently staring at her for a long minute. “I can kill you right here. One blast of my magic, and everything you’ve worked so hard for will be wiped away. I won’t have anyone, especially a female, telling me what to do ever again. Do you understand me?”
“All you had to do was say that,” Usaeil said with a seductive smile as she put her hands on Bran’s shoulders.
Bran shoved her arms away and backed up a step. “Remember who has the power.”
“That isn’t something I’ll forget,” she answered icily before stalking out of the room.
Cael watched as Bran put his hands on his hips and stared at the wall, deep in his own thoughts. No doubt Bran was trying to come up with another way to take Death’s magic, but that vulnerability was a mistake Erith wouldn’t make again. She’d correct it once Xaneth got her whatever it was he had taken from Bran.
If Xaneth went to her.
And if Erith or the other Reapers trusted him.
Shite, but this was a mess of epic proportions.
The only thing that made it better was that Death could become the powerful entity that Cael knew she was. That would mean the end of Bran once and for all.
“You think you’ll get out of this alive, don’t you?” Bran said as he faced Cael. “You won’t. I’ll make sure of that.”
“I’ve no such illusions.”
“That’s shite, and you know it. You’d do anything to get back to Death and your Reapers.”
There was no use arguing with Bran, especially when he was right. Instead, Cael shifted the conversation. “If I were you, I’d run. There’s nowhere far enough you can go that Death won’t catch you, but you’ve got a head start.”
Bran suddenly laughed. “Do you think I didn’t plan on this happening? You know me better than that, Cael. I have a contingency plan in place that involves Death believing she’s won. She’ll come with the Reapers, just as I want her to do.” Bran paused, his smile widening. “That look you’re wearing right there, the despair and fear I see, that’s what I’ve been waiting for. You should’ve believed me when I said this was the end of the Reapers.”
“The supreme art of war is to subdue the enemy without fighting.”
-Sun Tzu, The Art of War
Chapter Twenty-five
“That’s how Bran has done it?” Daire asked, eyeing the folded piece of paper.
Erith looked at it and nodded. She opened it, showing the others the page from her journal. “I wrote and drew this, and I believed I’d destroyed it.”
She crumbled the paper in her hand, enjoying the satisfying feeling of destroying what Bran had held over her. Flames erupted from her palm, devouring the sheet until it was nothing more than ash.
Dusting off her hands, Erith looked at the Reapers. It was odd not to see Cael’s face, but he wasn’t the only one missing. She’d given Kyran permission to make a quick trip to River. If he couldn’t get his head straight, he would be useless in battle.
“Somehow, Bran found that paper,” she continued. “Reading it gave him power over me, allowing him to take my magic and my life force. But that’s over now.”
“We hope,” Baylon said.
Dubhan nodded. “What if there are more?”
“It’s a chance I’ll tak
e,” she stated.
Eoghan blew out a breath. “It’s a big chance.”
“I think there was just the one,” Xaneth said into the silence that followed. “You should’ve seen the way Bran kept it near him. It was cloaked right there on his desk.”
Erith glanced at the Fae. He stood apart from the others, as though he felt he didn’t belong. A few years ago, she would’ve agreed, but Xaneth was one of the few who had kept the Reapers’ secrets. No matter how she looked at it, he was an asset and, more importantly, an ally.
She should’ve known that one of them would piece together the chance of extra pages, but she’d wanted to keep it to herself for as long as she could. As it turned out, that was a very short period of time.
“I wish I could tell you that Bran had just the one page. I wish I could tell you that I know for certain the others are gone. But I can’t,” she told them. “When I set the diary on fire, I walked away when I should’ve remained to make sure it was completely destroyed. So, aye, there’s a good possibility that Bran has another page.”
Fintan’s lips compressed tightly.
Having just returned, Kyran shook his head as he walked up. “That’s troubling.”
Erith smiled sadly. “Eoghan’s Reapers haven’t had a run-in with Bran, but they’ve witnessed his attacks. The rest of you,”—she paused and looked at Xaneth—“each has your own stories to tell about Bran. You know how crafty he is, how sneaky.”
“Aye,” Baylon murmured.
“But I know more than you,” she continued. “I know just how devious he is. I know that it would be just like Bran to suspect that I’d send in a spy to search for what he’s using. Then Bran could subtly show where the item was hidden and sit back and wait to see who took the bait.”
Xaneth blew out an irritated breath. “You’ve got to be fekking kidding me.”
Erith held Xaneth’s gaze a long time before she gave him a reassuring nod. “My guess is that Bran let the page be returned to me for two reasons. One, so he can find out who the spy is, and two, to give me a false sense of security.”
“So you’d believe he couldn’t take any more of your magic and you’d attack,” Aisling said.
Erith smiled. “Exactly. If I didn’t know Bran as well as I do, I’d have fallen for that trick. The fact he believes he’s smarter than everyone else will be his downfall.”
“What’s the plan, then?” Bradach asked.
Erith slid her gaze to Eoghan. “We use the ace up our sleeve.”
Talin shook his head. “But Usaeil knows about him.”
“Does she?” Erith asked with a quirk of a brow and the hint of a grin.
Eoghan smiled knowingly. “I never told her my name.”
“She does know you’re a Reaper,” Xaneth pointed out.
That made Erith grin. “True, and that’s what she’ll reveal to Bran. It doesn’t matter what they do to Cael, he’ll never tell them anything.”
“It’s another gamble, but I’m in,” Eoghan stated.
Aisling finished one of the many braids on her head and said, “Me and the boys are as well.”
Rordan opened his mouth but hesitated. The guys looked at each other before nodding in agreement. Aisling rolled her eyes and sighed loudly.
“I want to help,” Xaneth interjected.
Death looked at him. “Good, because I’d planned on that.”
He bowed his head before crossing his arms over his chest as he widened his stance, satisfaction in his gaze.
Erith created a 3-D miniature of the mansion and grounds using magic. She motioned Xaneth over. “Where is Cael being held?”
The Light quickly walked to her side and pointed to the building at the back of the property. “There.”
“Bran will have dozens of guards,” Talin pointed out.
Xaneth nodded. “There are six sentries, but that’s not what you need to worry about. It’s the magic. The only way anyone can come and go in that building is if Bran has given them access. And . . .” Xaneth said, drawing out the word when Aisling started to talk. He held her gaze a second before looking to Erith. “As I mentioned before, Cael is being restrained by that same magic.”
“I’d hoped we could get to Cael first and get him out, but Bran has made sure we can’t.” Erith licked her lips as her mind raced with different scenarios. And everything came back to one. “We can’t get into the mansion or even onto the grounds without alerting Bran. That means he’s going to get what he wants.”
“Which is?” Dubhan asked.
Xaneth shook his head ruefully, and his lips twisted briefly. “Exactly what he wanted when Bran tried to get Cael to call for Death—a face-off.”
“I’m going to give it to him,” Erith said before anyone could say a word.
Fintan shot her a disapproving look. “Have you lost your mind?”
“He wants me,” she stated. “Bran wants to drag Cael before me, taunting me with how he’s gotten rid of Eoghan and is about to kill Cael.”
Neve tapped the blade of one of her knives against her nail. “And with his attention on Erith and the rest of us, Eoghan and his Reapers could come from behind and attack.”
“I like the sound of that,” Cathal said with a smile.
Erith shook her head. “The only way I kill Bran is if there’s no other way for him to take my magic. I’ve got to talk to him long enough to see if he’ll try to take more.”
“And Cael?” Talin asked.
Erith didn’t have an answer. She wished she did. She’d searched for one, hoping against hope that she wouldn’t fail Cael. But she wasn’t so sure.
Baylon jerked back as if her silence had slapped him. “You can’t possibly be thinking of allowing Bran to kill Cael.”
“Absolutely not,” she retorted.
But Baylon continued without hearing her. “I know you want us to survive, but not at the cost of our leader. Cael is our brother, he—”
Erith couldn’t take any more. The dam on her anger burst, and she pinned Baylon with a dark look, her voice booming around them like a storm. “If that’s what you think, then you know nothing of me. I’m not leaving Cael!”
She drew in a deep breath as silence descended around her. Erith dropped her chin to her chest and closed her eyes that were now flooded with tears at the thought of losing her lover. “I’m not going to let Bran kill him.”
“We know that,” Eoghan said softly from beside her. “Everyone’s emotions are running high.”
Her palm itched to feel her sword in her hand. She was tired of talking, tired of planning. It was time for action.
It was time to save her lover from the madman’s hands.
Erith lifted her head, hastily wiping away an errant tear. “I’m going to face Bran alone. Alone,” she stated louder when Daire tried to argue. “I want him to believe I’m overconfident and that I feel as if I can take him and his army on my own. The rest of you will be there, but far enough away that Bran can’t sense you. And you’ll be veiled.”
She swallowed, her gaze on the rendering of the mansion. “Bran will insult me and goad me. He’ll parade Cael before me, asking me what I’ll do to save him. What Bran wants is for me to exchange my life for Cael’s.”
Erith paused and looked up, meeting Eoghan’s gaze. There was something in the Reaper’s molten silver eyes that told her he somehow knew about her and Cael.
She ignored it and looked around the group. “No matter what is said, no matter what I do, I won’t let Cael die. I won’t let any of you die.”
“We’re prepared for it,” Fintan said.
Erith slid her gaze to Neve. “After all the verbal barbs have flown, I’m going to call for my sword. When I do, I want you to appear behind the mansion. The Dark know how much Bran wants you, and you’ll draw their attention.”
“And the rest of us?” Daire asked.
“Give Neve enough time to lure the majority of the Dark to her, then join her.”
Talin’s brow was furrowed
deeply. “Why? We can’t kill the Dark, and they can’t kill us.”
“Because Bran will know it’s a ruse, and he won’t look twice at any of it,” Erith explained. “That’s when Eoghan and the other Reapers will join you.”
Xaneth ran a hand down his face. “This is madness. How is this going to work? You will have shown your one trump card.”
“That’s not my trump card. Not to mention, Bran won’t notice or care,” she said.
Xaneth shrugged. “All right. That could work. What do you need me to do?”
“Oh, you’re going to be a nice surprise. Bran is going to expect you to join me first, but we’re going to wait until the perfect time.”
“And when will that be?”
Erith smiled. “The same time the Reapers join Neve.”
Xaneth threw up his hands in frustration and let them slap against his legs. “You still haven’t said how we’re going to get Cael or how we’ll kill Bran.”
“I’m taking Bran’s life,” Erith said, anger churning within her. “I gave him his second chance. It’s mine to take away.” She turned her head to Eoghan. “Like I should’ve done when he killed Theo.”
Xaneth’s eyes widened, impatience on his face as he waited for more. “And the rest?”
“What’s wrong?” Aisling teased the Fae. “Afraid you won’t get out of this one alive?”
“Oh, I’m fairly certain I’m going to die,” Xaneth muttered.
Eoghan leaned close to Erith and whispered, “You haven’t said how we’re going to get Cael or how you’ll kill Bran.”
She swiped her hand from one side to the other, wiping away the image of the mansion. “Bran’s army will continue to rise each time you kill one until I end Bran’s life. Cael will be injured and hurting, but he is a weapon unto himself. If I can give him an opportunity, he’ll give me the advantage I need to get to Bran.”
“Aye, he will,” Baylon replied.
Erith knew Cael would. She just hoped that she would be able to handle seeing him, because she could only imagine what Bran had done to him. Between that and holding her sword again, allowing her past as Mistress of War to merge with who she was now, it might prove to be the final straw that crushed any chance of her controlling the person she’d once been.