by S. Young
Her stunned silence followed by her crestfallen expression made him frown. “What is it?”
“She’s practically family, right? I wish I’d known.”
“I don’t know if she can be trusted,” he lied. “I’ve been following her activities over the last few years, and several children have died after meeting with her.”
“How many are dead?”
Fionn hesitated, wondering how much he should tell her. He’d already omitted pivotal facts in the story, but that was so she wouldn’t draw the wrong conclusions. Or, the right ones.
Finally, he decided telling her the truth in this case wouldn’t hurt. In fact, it might push her even further into his confidence, fully understanding the danger she was in. “There are only three of you left. A girl was killed almost a decade ago when she was sixteen. Two boys were killed a few years after that within the space of a year. All by Eirik. Another fae-borne wasn’t killed—she was turned into a werewolf by her mate.”
“Uh … what?”
He’d done more talking in the last few hours than he had in his entire life. Fuck, it was exhausting. Still, for the good of his revenge … “Her name is Thea. A werewolf with remarkable tracking abilities was engaged to hunt her, but when he found her, they discovered they shared the mating bond. Rumor has it she was stabbed in the heart by iron but as she was dying, her mate bit her, and she turned.”
“I could get bit by a wolf and I’d no longer be fae? I thought you said a werewolf bite can kill us?”
It was difficult to know how much to tell this woman that would secure her trust but wouldn’t make her knowledge a problem for him and others.
“Fionn?”
“She was being hunted by the Blackwoods. Her pack lied and said she’d always been wolf, but they suspected it was a lie. If I give you this knowledge and they find evidence of the truth, they’ll start a war with Thea again.”
“I wouldn’t put someone who’s the equivalent of my sister in danger.”
He frowned. “You think of them as such? As siblings?”
“We’re cast from the same spell, right?”
“Aye, but you’re not related.”
“We’re bound in a way that’s more powerful than mere DNA. Do you know where she is?”
“It’s too dangerous to go to her.” To distract her from that notion, he continued, “There are legends about the mating bond but now I’m the only one left who knows whether they’re true. And I’m about to trust you with that truth. Don’t betray my trust.”
“I won’t. I promise.”
Only time would tell. Fionn wouldn’t hold his breath.
It had been a long time since he’d trusted someone with information about the fae. He was only divulging it to Rose because he needed her to trust him. “The truth is a fae cannot turn from just any vampire or werewolf bite. That’s not how vamps and wolves were made in the first place. Their fae mates made them. It can only be returned by their mate.”
“Wait … are you saying that if I found my mate and he was a vampire or werewolf, his bite could turn me into what he is?”
“Exactly.” He cut her a dark look. “Be careful with this information, Rose. Not because it’s likely you’ll ever find your mate here on Earth but because of the danger it poses to Thea.” Fionn might be a bastard who was luring Rose to her death, but there was no need for Thea to be dragged back into this war now that she was free of it. He’d never met the fae turned wolf, but if the stories about her were true, she was a rare breed, worthy of respect and deserving of peace.
“How is it not likely?”
“Mating bonds aren’t something that occur here. It happened for Thea because she’s fae.”
“I’m fae.”
“Yes.” But the likelihood of you being around long enough to find your mate is slim. “It’s a miracle she and Alpha MacLennan met. I don’t want you getting your hopes up.”
She snorted. “My hopes up? If you knew anything about me, Fionn, you’d know I’m more of the love ’em and leave ’em type, anyway.”
An image of Rose naked and riding atop him filled his mind before he could stop it. Her eyes dark with lust and desire would be an extraordinary thing to see. Heat pooled in his loins, and he shoved the thought straight back out.
What the fuck was that?
“You said Niamh can’t be trusted. Why?”
Niamh. Niamh Farren.
The thought of her cooled his hot blood.
Discombobulated by his wayward thoughts, he concentrated on Niamh.
When he was human, his clan name had been Ó Faracháin, the modern equivalent of which was Farren. As soon as Rose told him the name, his suspicions took root.
While they’d waited at the coffee shop at the station, Fionn had sent the names to Bran to see what he could find—his gut was telling him that the fucking Faerie Queen had made sure one of the fae children was Fionn’s bloody descendant. It would make sense that Niamh was the one he’d been obsessed with following. Until he’d found Rose.
“Fionn?”
Rose’s voice wrapped around his name like a gentle hand around his nape, drawing him out of his concerned thoughts.
“Why can’t she be trusted?”
“There’s no way of knowing if she’s leading enemies to the fae-borne to have them taken out. She’s psychic, Rose. It will be very hard to catch her because she sees her enemies coming. But if she doesn’t want that gate to open, she could make sure those who want you all dead do indeed find you. She’s the reason I found you.”
A frown puckered between Rose’s slim brows. The thought upset her.
Silence fell between them for a while, and Fionn found he couldn’t stop looking at her. There was something magnetic about Rose.
Fionn had a type. The woman he bedded all looked like Aoibhinn. Any sane man would do the opposite, yet nearly all his lovers had her red hair, full mouth, and full figure.
Rose was the opposite. Dark hair, pale skin, blue eyes, an athletic figure, small, perky tits, and her mouth wasn’t full and lush. It was an intriguing mouth, nonetheless. Her upper lip was slightly fuller than the lower, giving her an upside-down pout.
Rose looked up from staring thoughtfully at the table, and he felt like he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t. She didn’t seem to be aware of his perusal.
“Why are you helping me?” she repeated.
“I already told you why.”
“And it was a very altruistic answer. I want the real answer.”
Fionn felt a hot glow in his chest. Admiration, perhaps. Respect, even.
Guilt too.
The guilt he squashed.
Centuries he’d waited for this. No one, and certainly not a slip of a woman like Rose, would get in his way.
“I told you: I won’t see you or the others killed for something that was done to you. I will help you, and the others when I find them, to control your powers so you can protect yourselves against those who would use you to open the gate. But make no mistake, Rose,” he continued his lie, “if you or the other two try to open the gate, I’ll be there to stop you.”
It was a gamble to threaten her.
Yet it did the trick.
He watched her relax in her seat as if she understood him now.
“Fionn,” she said, her voice soft. “I would never do that. I want to protect this world too. Tell me what to do.”
Her sincerity pierced the hardness around his heart when sincerity in others usually elicited nothing but his disdain.
Fuck, he thought regretfully, why did it have to be her?
First class came with a meal, and Rose descended upon the pasta dish with relish. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was. Between bites, she watched Fionn eat, a little surprised to see that he needed to. She was beginning to think of Fionn as a godlike being who didn’t need to deal with basic human needs such as eating and drinking.
And using the restroom.
But he did.
When
he saw the guy coming to take their lunch order, Fionn had lowered the spell that blocked their conversation from other passengers and put the headphones away. The spell was still down as they settled into their seats. They’d only been on the train three hours. After he’d told his story, Fionn had fallen into silence. Rose had discerned correctly; he wasn’t much of a talker beyond mandatory explanations.
The silence, however, was not awkward between them. It was comfortable.
“There’s another four hours to go,” he said, glancing out the train window. They traveled along the Adriatic coast, and the late afternoon sun glistened across the sea. “Perhaps get some rest. We have a two-hour wait in Milan.”
Usually this would suit Rose. She was used to sleeping during the day because of her job, but now she was too wired. “I’ll rest on the train to Barcelona.”
He shrugged like it made no difference to him.
“So I’m immortal, right?” It sounded crazy saying that out loud.
“Yes.”
“When do I stop aging and changing?”
“You already have. From what I gathered from my time on Faerie, the fae stop developing once they reach adulthood. Roughly twenty-one, twenty-two years old.”
Huh. Rose let this sink in. No wrinkles for her, then. That was pretty cool.
Speaking of which …
“When can we start training?” She was itching to learn to control her powers but also to see what she was capable of. The last thing she wanted was for Fionn to hide her behind him again like he’d done in the woods with those warlocks. Rose hated depending on anyone for anything, and that most definitely included her survival. “I need to take care of myself.”
Fionn studied her a moment and then stood. “Wait here.”
She frowned, watching as he disappeared out of their carriage. What the hell? She sat for several minutes wondering what he was doing and if he was coming back.
Of course, he was coming back, she scolded herself. The dude was trying to save her life and the world at the same time.
When Fionn reappeared, Rose breathed a sigh of relief. “Where did you go?”
Instead of answering, he gestured for her to follow him. “What about your stuff?”
“What stuff?” He waved a hand over his belongings and the air shimmered as shadows from the dark corners of the train crept over the items, camouflaging them.
A swift grin replaced Rose’s concerned frown. “That is very cool.” She looked to him from the items and found him watching her.
Something like amusement flashed across his expression.
But it was gone so quickly, Rose wondered if she’d imagined it.
Rose followed him out of the carriage and through several others. He halted when they entered an empty carriage. He turned to her. “Let’s train.”
The thought was both scary and exhilirating. “Here?”
“Where’s better to train than on a train?”
She grinned. “Are you cracking jokes again?”
“Again, if you have to ask …”
Glancing around at all the empty seats, Rose’s smile slipped. Suspicion formed in her mind. “Why is this carriage empty?”
“I encouraged the occupants to move elsewhere. No one will disturb us here.”
“By encourage, do you mean that mind-control crap?”
Fionn shrugged.
Shrugged.
Unease moved through Rose. “You said it was only to be used in a life-or-death situation.”
“This whole situation is life or death, Rose.”
She glared at him.
He sighed. Heavily. “You need to practice if you want to learn to defend yourself. I made it so you could. Unless you’re happy to stand behind my back and let me protect you.”
Anger suffused her at the taunt.
Fionn nodded. “I thought not.”
“I don’t like it,” she told him. “The other abilities are exciting. But that mind thing—it seems wrong.”
“Because it is. But you live in a new world now, and you must make decisions, choices, that won’t sit well with you. That’s your new reality. Or are you okay that I killed two warlocks to save your life today?”
As if on cue, Fionn’s cell rang, thankfully saving her from answering his complicated question. The question was simple; its answer was complicated.
He pulled the phone out of his back trousers pocket. “Bran,” he told her before hitting a button. “You’re on speaker with me and Rose.”
Bran’s voice filled the empty carriage. “No humans listening in?”
“No.”
“Sorry it took a few hours but my contact at the coven needed further incentive to divulge the info we need.”
“Pay them whatever they want,” Fionn acceded.
“Already suspected you’d say so and already did.” He released an exhalation. “Rose, I’m sorry, but the two warlocks who came after you were in fact O’Connor warlocks. My contact relayed your story. Are you ready for it?”
She wasn’t sure but she nodded mutely anyway.
Fionn replied, “She’s ready.”
“Each baby in the O’Connor Coven is put before a psychic. The O’Connors have held a line of psychic witches in their coven dating back to the fourteenth century. Anyway, the psychic got a vision of what you were, so the coven gathered around you, felt your power, and brought your case before the equivalent of a high court to decide your fate. It should be noted they did this without informing the European High Council of your existence.
“Anyway, your parents pled for you to live. In the end, the majority decided to cast a spell that would suppress your powers. However, it was under the proviso that if the spell ever broke … they’d sentence you to death, Rose.”
Nausea welled inside her.
“They forbid your parents to leave Dublin with you, but when they died in a car accident and your aunt became your guardian, she had a different notion. You see, your mam was the eldest daughter of the coven leader and as such raised to be a leader, but her younger sister, Rihanna, whom you know as Anna, was a typical rebel. Apparently, she constantly disobeyed her family’s wishes, including marrying Cian Cosway, whom you know as Bill. Cosway was covenless and considered too common for the daughter of an O’Connor. Anna married him behind their backs.
“Once they became your guardians, Anna and Bill cast a spell that allowed them to flee Ireland. They took you to the States under a false identity, and they’ve been in hiding from the coven ever since.
“But when the spell on you broke, the entire coven felt it.”
Her mom and dad hadn’t betrayed her.
They’d been trying to protect her all this time. She looked over at Fionn, tears blurring her vision. “My mom and dad … are they safe?”
Bran answered. “According to my warlock, they’re still in hiding. The coven doesn’t know where they are, but they’re not a priority for them. The priority is finding you.”
“Then how are they tracing Rose?” Fionn asked. “I assumed they were using personal items from her home back in the States.”
“Apparently, you left a jacket behind at the Zagreb nightclub, Rose. That’s what they’re using. But the witch who has the jacket is relaying your position to others coming after you. They don’t want to take the chance that the jacket will fall into your hands during a confrontation with the coven.”
“How many are following us?”
“They’ve sent out a witch and warlock. They don’t know where you’re going, only where you are, so they’re following by road. The problem occurs when you stop too long in one place.”
Fionn stared impassively at Rose as she fought back tears of relief. “We need to destroy that jacket if we can.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“Offer your informant double what you’ve paid them to take out the witch with the jacket and burn the damn thing.”
Uneasiness swamped Rose. This was no longer defense playing. This was off
ense.
It felt like war.
“Because it is a war,” Fionn said softly.
Had she spoken out loud?
“Aye,” he replied. “I’m not a mind reader, Rose.”
“Fionn,” Bran said, his voice cutting through their staring contest. “Just a reminder—the Blackwoods are using Barcelona as a trap.”
“I’m aware I have two covens on my arse, Bran,” he said. “Anything else to report?”
“Not at the moment.”
“Thank you, Bran,” Rose said before Fionn could hang up.
“No problem. I’m sorry my news is so fucking dismal.”
“It wasn’t,” she promised him. “It’s good to know my parents have been trying to protect me and that they’re safe.”
Fionn hung up before Bran could reply.
“That was rude,” she huffed.
He ignored her and took a few steps down the carriage in her direction. “We can leave training to later. Your mind might not be in the right place now.”
Rose straightened. “No, I can do this. I want to … but …”
“But?”
“I need to let my parents know I’m okay. I don’t want them traveling to Europe and getting caught up in this when they could be safe at home in the States.”
Fionn let out another heavy sigh and then began typing on his phone.
“What are you doing?”
“Asking Bran to keep checking on your parents. If they make a move, we’ll get a message to them.”
Rose felt her whole body relax. Gratitude swamped her. “Thank you. I know you’re helping me for reasons bigger than me, but thank you.”
He frowned and strode to the other side of the carriage. He turned to face her again, his expression blank. “Don’t thank me. Let’s practice.”
Bracing her legs to face him, Rose’s body thrummed with anticipation. “Okay. How?”
“Sometimes, as much as it sticks in the craw, it’s better to hide than to fight. The more supes you fight, the greater the likelihood of them discovering you’re not a witch but fae. Witches can’t travel, for a start.” Fionn gestured beyond her. “What I did to my belongings, you’re going to do now to yourself.”