by S. Young
She’d appeared troubled even in sleep, a frown pinching the skin between her brows, her lips pursed tightly.
There was nothing Fionn could do for her. Unfortunately, she’d have to work through the warlock’s death alone. All he could do was provide reassurance that it was a kill-or-be-killed situation.
However, even that didn’t help if you had a soul.
Why the fuck do you care? he snarled at himself. He seemed to keep forgetting a pivotal fact where Rose was concerned. She’d be dead by the end of the week. Her feelings would no longer matter.
Rage churned in his gut as her face flashed through his mind. His whole being rebelled at the idea of killing her. It would seem, after all this time, after damning himself for what he’d become, Fionn still had enough humanity within him to regret hurting an innocent.
For centuries, he’d told himself that the fae were too dangerous to ever be considered innocent. Take himself, for example. He hadn’t been a perfect human but for his time, he’d been a fair one. A just king. A good man.
That man died the moment he made the bargain with Aine.
All hope of resurrecting him faded when he became fae.
Yet watching Rose learn to use her fae powers was more entertaining than he’d anticipated. Fionn sighed, running a hand through his hair. She had a way of making him see what he was through fresh eyes. What he could be.
Well, until she killed the warlock.
He wondered how she’d feel about her abilities when she woke up. If she’d still want to train with him.
“Fuck,” Fionn grizzled, pulling out his phone. He had too many thoughts and feelings about this woman. Sacrificial lamb, he reminded himself as he hit the button to call Brannigan.
He picked up on the second ring. “I know Rose’s life is in danger, but you are aware that I sleep during the day? Because you’ve called me all day.”
“It’s nighttime now.”
“Not my point. I should be wide a-fucking-wake right now, but all I want is a nap.”
Fionn tried and failed to bite back an impatient growl.
“Fuck, you sound like an animal when you do that. You sure you’re not part wolf or vampire?”
“Bran, if you don’t shut up, I will rip your heart out when I see you. Capisce?” The word was out of his mouth before he could stop it.
He rolled his eyes.
That bloody woman was infecting him.
“Capisce? Are we now—”
“Bran,” Fionn warned.
“Right, right. I take it you’re calling for an update.”
“I am. And you can be frank. No one is listening in, not even Rose.”
“Where is she?”
“Asleep in another carriage.” He sighed. “She killed a warlock today.”
“Ah. Troubled, is she? The first kill is the worst.”
“Aye, well, she’s strong, she’ll get through it. Any news on the jacket?”
“It’s destroyed,” Bran relayed.
Relief moved through Fionn. Not that he was afraid of taking on any more hunters. He just didn’t want Rose to have to deal with it. Barcelona would prove challenging enough without more O’Connor hunters on their tails.
“You’re not out of the woods yet. My informant tells me they’d already sent more hunters after you before we destroyed the jacket. They don’t know what train you got on, but they know what direction you’re taking. If they hear about An Breitheamh, then it’s safe to say they’ll be able to deduce you’re on your way to Barcelona. They’ll assume you want it to stop the Blackwoods from completing the gate ritual.”
Just what they needed. Fionn sighed. “We’ll deal with that if it happens. What about Rose’s parents?”
“They’ve booked tickets to Zagreb. They leave in a few hours. Look, I’ve been thinking, your phone is untraceable and their coven still doesn’t know where they are, so as far as I’m concerned, it’s safe for Rose to call them and tell them to stay put.”
The last thing Fionn wanted was Rose getting sentimental with her parents. He needed her focused on him, staying with him, not hearing her parents’ voices and longing to be with them.
“It would put her at ease.”
Remembering the tight expression on her face even as she slept, Fionn cursed under his breath. It would ease her worries to know her parents were okay. “Fine, I’ll let her call them.”
There was a moment of silence between them and then, “You like her.”
Fionn scowled. “What?”
Disbelief rang clear in Bran’s voice. “You haven’t complained about her once and you’re doing her favors I thought I’d have to talk you into. You like the little fae. I mean, it’s not surprising, I’ve seen her picture. She’s definitely got that extra something.”
“Bran,” Fionn warned, sweat dampening his palms.
“And she’s survived two attacks, even taking out a warlock, so she’s an impressively fast learner, yes?”
“Bran …”
“Maybe it’s time to reconsider—”
“I’ll kill you, Bran,” Fionn threatened, voice devoid of emotion. “If you utter one more word about changing my mind regarding Rose and the gate, I will end your bloodsucking existence. Are we clear?”
Considering he’d never seriously threatened to kill his friend before, Fionn was guessing they were clear when Bran replied coldly, “Oh, we’re clear.”
Fuck.
“Do you think this is easy for me?” he hissed, the fae audible in his voice. “I have no other choice. You know that.”
“You have a choice, Fionn.”
“I don’t, friend,” he offered the word in apology. “I am nothing if I am not my revenge.”
In answer, he heard fast typing down the end of the line.
“What are you doing?” he finally asked.
“Checking for the nearest underground fights.”
“I don’t have time for that.” Although, it might do him some good. Underground fights between supernaturals had existed for centuries. It was a place for werewolves and vampires to unleash the aggression they tried to hide from humans. Now and then, a witch or warlock would fight, but they weren’t allowed to use magic, so it was considered a death sentence for them.
At the fights, Fionn pretended to be a vampire. It explained his long life to those who were old enough to remember his face at other fights.
Only one being had ever questioned what Fionn was in the last three centuries, and that was an old werewolf acquaintance with secrets of his own. Although he wasn’t sure what Fionn was, he knew Fionn was no vampire. He never spoke of his suspicions to anyone. He wouldn’t. The lone wolf was that in the truest sense of the word.
A fight might work out Fionn’s agitation, but he was on a tight schedule.
“Well, in case you change your mind, a three-night fight is being held in Orléans. The last night is the day after the auction.”
“Rose and I will take a flight to Ireland once we retrieve An Breitheamh.”
“That’s not a given, Fionn. If anyone realizes you stole it back, the first thing they’ll do is watch Barcelona Airport. If the Blackwoods find out, they’ll watch Shannon Airport too.”
“Then we’ll fly to Dublin and drive to Galway.”
“Fionn—”
“No one will stop this. No one. Not once I have both Rose and An Breitheamh.”
“Aye, you’ve made that clear.” Bran heaved a sigh. “Oh, and I’m still working on finding out if Niamh Farren is related to you. My genealogist is on it but there’s a huge possibility we won’t come to a definite conclusion on this. I’ve traced her and her brother to their birth certificates. He’s two years older. They were born in County Kerry.
“From what I can tell, they were raised by their single mam until Niamh was seven. There was no one else to take them, so they were put in the foster system. After their foster parents died when Niamh was thirteen, the siblings fell off the map. I’d wager that’s when they started runni
ng. My genealogist and I can work backward using their mam’s info, but it’s still a long shot.”
“My gut tells me I’m not wrong about this.”
“What does it matter? You’re going to kill Rose and open that gate and never come back. What does it matter what happens to Niamh?”
Agitation itched beneath his skin; he flexed his fingers in reaction.
“Fionn?”
“If she’s my blood, Bran, I need to know before I go. I’ll make sure she’s protected.”
“Once you kill Rose—”
Fionn bit back a growl. He wished he’d stopped saying that.
“—the gate will close permanently. The fae children who are left will be useless to the Blackwoods.”
“Not useless, Bran. They’re still the most powerful beings in this world. Especially Niamh. They revere psychics among the covens. Can you imagine what they’d do to have a fae psychic working for them? No. If she’s my family, I won’t leave her unprotected.”
“Your family betrayed you,” Bran reminded him unnecessarily.
“And they would have betrayed Niamh too. I won’t.”
“Well, here’s a question you might not like answering: If Rose is killed before you can use her to open the gate, will you kill Niamh instead?”
Damn him!
“This conversation is over.”
“I predicted that answer.” Bran sounded almost as pissed as Fionn felt. “Let Rose call her parents. I’ll email over what I know about the players at this auction.” He hung up.
Fionn stared blindly at his phone.
It was the first time Bran had ever hung up on him first.
With a sigh, Fionn released the spell on the headphones and slumped back in his seat, listening to the sounds of the train traveling through the night. The lights lowered in the carriage, and Fionn closed his eyes.
He hadn’t slept in forty-eight hours but he could manage on little sleep for days. Still, he was weary in a way he hadn’t felt in centuries.
“Fionn,” Rose’s soft voice whispered in his mind. “Fionn.”
God, she couldn’t even give him peace while he rested. She was haunting his thoughts.
He felt a hand on his shoulder and reacted instinctually. Fionn grabbed the hand as he tore out of his seat and thrust his attacker against the carriage door. The door cracked off its hinges.
It all happened so fast, it was too late for him to realize Rose was really there and had been attempting to wake him. He grappled for her as she stumbled against the broken door, his hands clamping down on her small shoulders to steady her.
She glared up at him in annoyance while he held her pinned in place.
In that moment, he noticed how truly small she was compared to him.
Aoibhinn had been statuesque for a woman. He’d never been aware of her fragility, and she’d been human.
And yet Rose, who would be as powerful as he was with training, felt feminine but breakable in his hands. The feminine part he liked. More than he should. The breakable part made him feel like a murdering bastard.
That familiar guilt niggled at him.
“Fuck,” he gritted out as he released her slowly and retreated.
Feeling the tension in the carriage, he glanced over his shoulder and saw the two humans were awake and half standing out of their seats, trepidation and concern in their expressions. “Double fuck.”
Rose pressed into him as she addressed the strangers. The skin on the back of Fionn’s neck prickled as he inhaled her scent; at the same time, he felt the touch of her body in every molecule of his being.
Triple fuck.
He stared down at her, resentment flooding him, as she smiled apologetically at the other passengers. “It’s all okay. My brother just got off a military tour. I startled him awake.”
One passenger relaxed instantly, smiled in understanding, and then spoke in Spanish to the other passenger relaying what Rose had said.
“Your brother?” he queried.
Rose glowered. “They’re more likely to think I’m safe with a sibling over a lover, and we couldn’t have them calling the cops now, could we?” She pushed past him and shoved the broken carriage door aside.
She was pissed.
Great.
He caught her as she stepped into the next carriage, feeling the strength in her small biceps as he wrapped his hand around it. “You startled me, but I apologize.”
Rose halted and heaved a sigh. “It’s fine. I just had kind of a weird dream and then you attacking me … I’m tired and cranky. It’s all good.” She tugged on her arm, making him realize he was gripping her too tight.
He released her as if she’d just bitten him.
She contemplated him with suspicion. “Is there a reason you jumped me? Is everything okay?”
No.
Far from it.
14
“Everything’s fine. I just spoke with Bran.” Fionn pulled his phone out of his pocket and handed it to Rose. “Call your parents. They’ve booked a flight to Zagreb. You need to dissuade them from getting on that plane.”
The sudden announcement momentarily confused Rose. One minute, she was angry at Fionn for proving he could squish her in his big warrior fae hands if it amused him to do so, and the next she was wondering what those hands would feel like if they were caressing her rather than squishing her.
And now he was telling her to call her parents?
The truth was, Rose wasn’t just pissed that Fionn had attacked her in his semiconscious state. She was pissed she’d found him sleeping in another carriage, as if he needed to get away from her.
“Is that what you were doing? Talking to Bran? You weren’t sleeping?”
He frowned. “I didn’t want to wake you so I called him from the quieter carriage.” He nudged her gently. “Let’s get back to our seats. I’ll use the headphones so you can make your call in private.”
Rose started down the carriage. People were trying to sleep, and they shouldn’t have this conversation on a train at night, but still … “Why were you sleeping?”
“I wasn’t. I’d closed my eyes for a second.”
“You need to sleep.”
“Perhaps I will once we get back to our seats and you make that call.”
The call.
To her parents.
Emotions rattled through her in a chaotic kerfuffle. She knew she had to speak to them but that didn’t make it easy.
“Do you wish me to isolate your conversation so even I can’t hear?” Fionn asked as they entered the first-class carriage.
As Rose slid into her seat, she felt a little dazed. Fionn could be unexpectedly perceptive when he wanted to be. More unexpected was the realization that she didn’t mind if he witnessed this important call.
Where once she shied from anyone who perceived weakness in her, she found she didn’t mind sharing that part of her with Fionn. Despite how vulnerable her position with him had been since they’d met, he’d never made her feel anything but empowered.
“It’s okay.” She tapped his phone screen. With a small, nervous smile, she held it out to him. “You need to unlock it.”
He did so swiftly and returned the phone to her. Then he conjured the headphones; she felt magic prickle her skin as he used them to envelop them in privacy.
Stomach flipping, Rose dialed her parents’ house phone in Maryland.
They rarely picked up the house phone, but the line clicked open on the third ring. “Hello?” her mother asked, sounding frantic.
Guilt pricked at Rose, despite all they’d kept from her. “It’s me.”
“Oh, thank goodness,” her mom sobbed. “Oh, Rose—what, yes, it’s her. Rose, I’m putting you on speaker so your da can talk to you too.”
“Okay.” Rose’s gaze locked with Fionn’s.
For once she could read his expression.
Are you all right?
She gave him a small nod.
“Rose, darling, it’s your da.” His warm,
familiar voice caused a confusing mix of love and resentment to flood her.
“Hi.” She found her voice to reply.
“Where are you?”
“I’m safe—that’s all that matters.”
“Rose, you have to know you’re in danger. It’s hard to explain—”
“You don’t need to. I know everything. I know what I am. I know why I’m in danger.”
There was a moment of silence until her father cleared his throat. “Then tell us where you are and we’ll come get you.”
“No. Cancel the flight to Zagreb.”
Her parents murmured quietly between themselves. “How did you know we booked a flight?” her mom asked.
Rose felt her lips quirk in bitter amusement. “Because I’ve met a few friends who have divulged more to me than my own goddamn parents ever did. And these friends have eyes and ears everywhere.”
Fionn scowled, and she swore she could sense he felt betrayed on her behalf.
Huh.
“… and we thought if you didn’t know, it would never be an issue. We never thought the spell would break.” Her parents had spoken while she studied Fionn.
“A vampire attacked me outside a club,” Rose replied quietly. “He smacked my head against the ground and, poof, spell broken. But someone came to help—he’s teaching me about my powers.” She found she couldn’t meet Fionn’s gaze as she spoke of him because her feelings flooded to the surface. There wasn’t much she didn’t mind him knowing, but her stronger-than-usual feelings for an immortal man she barely knew was not one of those things.
“Who is this person? How do you know you can trust him?”
Irritated by her mother’s interrogation, she bit out, “Well, he told me the truth and you didn’t, so …”
“Rose”—her dad sighed—“we did what we could. We couldn’t chance staying with the coven because if the spell broke while we were in Dublin, there would be no escaping them. You have to know they can use things that belong to you to trace you.”
“I know that. My … friend has already taken care of that?” Her glanced at Fionn, and he nodded.