A Crack in Everything

by Ruth Frances Long

  Jinx! Izzy jerked upright. ‘What have you done to him?’

  ‘Done to him?’ He laughed again, the same sound, halfway between laugh and snarl. Dangerous. Knowing. ‘Well, nothing. Yet. It’s you I’m interested in. Or rather—’ He tapped his temple with his index finger, ‘—your little hitchhiker.’

  Izzy felt the angel stir, afraid, burrowing deeper into the back of her mind, digging in like an animal at bay. Great. So much help. ‘My … my what?’

  He smiled his cruel smile, leaned in closer. This time he whispered. ‘I think we both know what I’m talking about. Come out of there, and I’ll show you.’

  Dylan’s hands closed on her upper arms, holding her back in case she’d momentarily lost her mind or something. Izzy couldn’t shake the feeling of relief. Part of her wanted to move. Something primal which longed to obey. It terrified her, its strength, its bone-deep conviction.

  She forced herself to speak. ‘I don’t think so. Who are you, anyway?’

  ‘Azazel,’ he said with a laugh lurking behind the name. ‘You can call me Azazel. Or Uncle.’

  ‘Uncle?’ she repeated, staring at him, cold dread clawing at her. The fear leached away at her, paralysing her, making her heart thunder against her ribs.

  He stretched out his hand. His fingers were too long, the nails sharp and yellowed like old bone. Though the gesture was full of grace, it held such a sense of threat that her breath caught in her throat, choking her. ‘Sometimes it means “my father’s brother”, sometimes it’s a term of affection for an elderly male relative. Sometimes it means “I give up”. Which one is up to you.’

  ‘Leave us alone,’ said Dylan, before Izzy could formulate a reply.

  Azazel’s finger jerked towards him instead. ‘You’re walking a fine line, young man. You’re going to end up burned. You’ve already paid more than most would dare. Or do you think your sister will be the last victim? We’re watching you now. So very closely. Talent and luck won’t save you, not from her. And they won’t help you with her either. She’s dangerous.’

  ‘You leave Silver out of this.’

  He grinned wickedly. ‘Was I talking about Silver? She isn’t here. Why should I include her?’

  Dylan scowled. ‘Who sent that banshee?’

  Azazel smiled at him, a thin, unpleasant smile. ‘There’s a price to know that too. A price not even you’re willing to pay. So shut up or your guilt will destroy you. Come out of the circle, Isabel. Come out and play.’

  Izzy struggled to keep breathing. What else could she do? Stepping out of the circle would be suicide, that was for certain. And Azazel, whatever he was, wouldn’t help her, no matter what charming promises he might make.

  The mark on the back of her neck was so cold it burned. All her instincts screamed in warning. For once her Grigori mark and the angel agreed. The angel writhed, desperate to escape Azazel. But she didn’t speak. Perhaps she didn’t dare. Hadn’t Jinx called them soldiers and assassins? Izzy couldn’t believe it. Why did she have to get the cowardly angel?

  Although the angel didn’t seem afraid, not in the traditional sense. It felt more like she housed a hissing cat driven into a corner and ready to attack than a mouse frozen in fear.

  ‘Leave us alone,’ Izzy whispered, gaining a little strength from the angel. ‘We don’t want anything to do with you.’

  ‘You’ve no choice. Listen, little girl, little Grigori mine, there’s more to this than you could possibly know. More than you could hope to know. You’re not getting out of this unscathed, unmarked. That angel is mine. When they fall they belong to me, understand? You’re going to release her to me.’ He pulled a knife from inside the coat. It was longer than the one Izzy held, the blade black like obsidian. ‘Come out,’ he told her. ‘I’ll make it quick, I promise.’

  ‘Never!’ The voice surged up within her like the waves on a shingle shore, driven by a storm’s rage. Izzy bit down on her lip to keep from saying it out loud herself. The angel didn’t seem weaker now. No, she wasn’t weak at all. If anything she was getting stronger.

  ‘Did she lie to you, Isabel? Did she tell you there was a way to be free of her?’ He hunkered down again, gazing into her face with his burning eyes, running his discoloured fingernails along the edge of the blade. Face to face with him, she could only stare back, unable to see his features, just the hints of them, suggestions, flashes of nightmare. ‘There’s only one way out of this, Isabel. Only one way to escape. And you know what that is.’

  He flicked the blade back and forth so the meagre light flickered off its polished surface.

  Death. She didn’t need to hear the word. He would kill her. The moment he got his hands on her. All she had to do was step outside the circle.

  ‘Don’t listen to him!’ The voice was a scream, high pitched and terrible. The angel surged up like a wave of fire inside Izzy’s body. For a moment she felt her grip on herself crumbling, like it had up on the hill at the Wishing Stone, and something else tried to seize control. She struggled to push it away, but claws sank into her flesh from within, and fiery wind tore through her. ‘Listen to me and only me, girl. Do as I say!’

  ‘Izzy?’ Dylan’s voice was faint, but insistent, a whisper beside her ear. He hugged her closer and the voice in her mind subsided. His arms tightened, trembling. ‘Don’t listen.’

  To which one of them? She felt tears sting in her eyes and her chest ached as if it would burst. Or did he mean both?

  Azazel shrugged. ‘Then don’t. Listen, that is. But it doesn’t change anything. Not a thing. The angel is mine. She fell. And I am here to collect, spark or no spark. Now, or in the future. It doesn’t matter. But it will get worse for you. I will always be here. Waiting. You know what you have to do.’

  Azazel rose to his feet with unnatural speed, spread his hands out to either side and the shadows swept towards him, gushing over the roots and brambles, seething around him in a twist of the night.

  And he was gone.

  The sound of breath, heavy, laboured, filled the air and for a moment Izzy couldn’t figure out where it was coming from. Then she did. It was her breath. And Dylan’s.

  ‘Are you okay?’ he asked, his voice strained and sore, tight with the fear she felt herself.

  ‘Yes. I think so. Yes. Have they gone? Have they all gone?’

  He looked around, but he didn’t move. Nor did he release her. ‘I don’t know. Wait, stay still.’

  ‘But Jinx … and Silver.’

  His grip tightened. ‘She told me … said to protect you. Even from him. Even from her. What did she mean, Izzy? Why are you so important to all of them?’

  Her face burned, but the tears covering it were cold as ice. She hadn’t realised she was crying. She thought of Marianne, of what Dylan had said, and suddenly she couldn’t stop. Mari was dead. Not a demon or an angel, not any kind of Sídhe or fae creature. None of them had paid the price. It was Mari. And if it hadn’t been for Izzy, they’d never even have noticed her.

  ‘I don’t know. Everything’s changed, Dylan, and it’s my fault. Everything’s changed.’

  To her surprise, Dylan wrapped his arms more gently around her and pulled her close. He was warm and careful. He was human.

  God, it felt so good to be so close to someone human. She closed her hands over his, stroked the skin stretched over his knuckles. His hand shook and he tightened his grip on her.

  ‘It wasn’t you, Izzy. It was them.’

  Chapter Seventeen

  Home Truths

  Jinx lost sight of Izzy and Dylan far too quickly. With Silver in his arms, he couldn’t shift to hound form and find them. He could sense Izzy though, sense her terror, her despair.

  Something was terribly wrong.

  ‘Jinx? Slow down. Please. Just … just stop.’ Silver’s voice was weaker, her body trembling in his arms. He came to a halt and lowered her as gently as he could to the ground.

  ‘Call Holly,’ she whispered, looking up at him with plaintive eyes. ‘Call her.
You have to, Jinx. I’m fading. She’s the only one who can stop it. I need to get back to my tree. I have reserves of power stored there. More than enough to make up for what I gave Brí. Holly will know what to do, how to draw it forth for me if I can’t do it myself.’

  Her tree was her touchstone, her greatest source of power next to her voice and the place where the energy from all those mortals she had inspired now dwelt. She was fiercely protective of it. He couldn’t imagine her letting even Holly near it. And Silver might think Holly would help her, but Jinx wasn’t so sure.

  Izzy’s face flared in his mind, afraid, in pain. What would Holly do to her? ‘I can’t.’

  Tears slid down Silver’s pale cheeks, sluggish and plump, glistening. ‘I’m dying. Without my voice, without something to … to feed on … I’m dying, Jinx. Holly knows what to do. She’ll take me to the tree. You can’t, I know that, and I’m not asking you to, but … Please.’

  ‘She’ll kill Izzy.’

  ‘We’re still in Brí’s territory, aren’t we? Let Brí look out for the girl.’

  ‘You know I can’t.’

  ‘Then don’t tell her about Izzy. I thought you were going to hand her over anyway. Let Holly have her. I thought …’

  ‘I can’t, not now. Give her Brí’s daughter? Are you mad? Imagine what she’d do? Brí’s content to rule her Hill, guard against whatever she imagined broke free all those years ago. Do you want another war? Izzy still has that spark. The power it contains would make Holly nigh on invincible. And she’d never be content to remain in the Market, never be satisfied with Dubh Linn. She’d go to war against the whole council first. Hell, she’d take on every fae on the island, and the hosts of heaven and hell beyond them too if it suited her. And that’s the best we can hope for, a war. Imagine what she’d do just for a moment. Imagine what she’d do to the lesser fae, to the humans, to everyone. I know she’s your mother, Silver, but I don’t think any of us want that again, do we?’

  Silver grabbed his leg, her nails like points of steel. ‘Jinx. Please.’ She was afraid. Terrified. Silver was old. He always forgot that because she never acted like the others. But she was old. The sudden reality of dying was destroying her – she wasn’t equipped to face death. Silver was a creature of emotion, of creativity and self-belief. Without that, she was nothing. ‘One of the banshees killed Dylan’s sister. She was looking for Izzy. Holly’s getting impatient. She won’t wait much longer, do you understand?’

  Dylan … Jinx understood now. Dylan was after revenge, just as Brí had divined. Dylan had nothing else to live for, or so he thought.

  Jinx stared at Silver, appalled. ‘Did you make him yours? Did you use his grief?’

  ‘No!’ Outrage gave her a little fire. But it faded too quickly. ‘I didn’t. Of course I didn’t. Please, Jinx. Please help me. I won’t last much longer.’

  He pulled the phone out of his pocket, the screen giving off an eerie glow, and brought up Holly’s number. He didn’t want to, but what choice was there? Silver needed Holly. Only her matriarch could save her now. Silver firmly believed it and so it would be true. Leanán Sídhe couldn’t exist without love. And no one loved her like Holly did. Her mother.

  No one hated her like Holly either. If Silver couldn’t see it, Jinx could. Holly hated Silver too. For her power, for her beauty, for the ease everyone felt around her. She walked a fine line to keep Holly happy. She was useful. Not a threat. Certainly not right now.

  But where did that leave Izzy? Hunted on all sides, banshees, the Magpies, angels, demons, shades … Her world transformed. Treated like a bargaining chip. Abused to become what others would have her be.

  He could recall far too vividly that sensation.

  ‘Here.’ He tossed the phone to Silver. ‘But give me a head start.’

  She looked stunned, her mouth open, her eyes wide. ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘Getting Izzy and Dylan as far away from here as possible before Holly comes. Deal?’

  For a moment he thought she would argue, but then Silver’s mouth hardened in determination. ‘Deal. But hurry. Please hurry. I can’t wait too long. Understand?’

  Jinx didn’t need another moment. He turned and ran. The urge to shift was powerful, but he fought it. Too many complications at the other end. Unless it was necessary, absolutely necessary, he’d stay in Sídhe form. He’d need to explain to them both. He’d need to—

  The shades assaulted him on all sides, bringing him down in moments, pinning him on the ground. He waited for teeth, for the tearing claws, but nothing happened. If he struggled they contained him. But they did no more. Which could only mean they had instructions.

  Which never boded well.

  ‘This is a busy place tonight.’ The stench that rose with the demon’s approach made Jinx’s stomach heave in alarm and disgust. ‘You must be what the fledgling Grigori was so worried about.’

  Sudden rage sharpened his vision, made his teeth ache to sink into whatever borrowed flesh the thing wore. It would taste of poison and decay, but he didn’t care. Even if the demon would shake him off like a fly. Some instincts were too strong. ‘What have you done to her?’

  The laugh grated on his skin. ‘Nothing. Yet. But I thought you might heed a warning she ignores. Ready to listen, dog?’ The demon leaned in closer, flaming eyes too bright. ‘We understand each other, you and I? Good. The thing inside her is dangerous. To you. To all of us. But most of all to her. The thing inside her is not what it appears to be, not what once it was. I want it. It is mine. You’ll bring it to me.’

  Reaching out, he pressed his fingertips to Jinx’s forehead, pressed harder. Something gave inside Jinx, something which should never give, should never be asked to. Jinx screamed. He couldn’t help it. Images slammed into his mind, vivid and sickeningly stark. Like film with the contrast turned right up, like the blast of feedback through an amp on ten. He screamed and the images filled him.

  ‘Look at her. I know you can see. Really look.’

  Through the trees he saw Izzy, huddled on the ground with Dylan. They clung together, trapped in their own circle. He almost called her name, but it wasn’t Izzy.

  By all that was holy, it wasn’t Izzy. It couldn’t be.

  ‘Really look.’

  And he did. He didn’t want to, but he couldn’t help himself. With the demon’s power pinning him down, messing with his perception, the world shifted. Dylan was a faint shadow beside her. Fire billowed through her hair and skin, under the surface, illuminating her. It wasn’t the glow he associated with her either. Nothing so soft and delicate as that. This raged out of control, like the fires of a million suns. She stiffened and turned, or part of her did. Not Izzy. Izzy was still blind in the darkness. She couldn’t see him so far away. Something else turned towards him and looked. He had no idea what it was. Her eyes, when she looked at him, were cold and empty, the void of space, and just as desolate. There was nothing of Izzy in them, no sign of her soul, her humanity.

  The black and endless eyes fixed on him and within them all eternity spread out before him. She smiled, not Izzy’s smile, but something else. Ageless and horrifying.

  The thing inside her is dangerous.

  Someone shouted his name. Izzy. The real Izzy. Here and now. The reality of her brought him tumbling back to himself. He tore free of the shades and found the demon was gone. Vanished in the night. He stood there, breathing hard, teeth bared, a fraction away from changing, more animal than Sídhe.

  Cú Sídhe eyes saw better than anything else – mortal, fae or beast – that walked the horizontal. And now he knew where Izzy and Dylan were. He picked them through the darkness, between the trees, huddled together. But something in the way they held each other made every hair on the back of his neck rise, as if he was already in hound form.

  He leapt through the darkness, snarling.

  ‘Jesus,’ Dylan said on a breath.

  The silver on his body sizzled. The tattoos tightened around his skin, forcing him to maintai
n his Aes Sídhe form. Like a slap in the face, driving him back a step with shock and pain, forcing unwanted control onto his nature. Jinx reined himself in, though his body wanted only to attack, and tear through meat until the blood ran over his face. But he was Aes Sídhe, not an animal.

  The words he forced out scraped along his throat. ‘We have to go. Now.’

  Izzy scrambled to her feet. ‘Is he gone? Is it safe?’

  ‘Yes, he’s gone. But it isn’t safe. Holly’s coming. Run.’

  ‘Where’s Silver?’ Dylan asked.

  Jinx swallowed a snarl of frustration. ‘Waiting for Holly. Who will take great delight in killing you. Both of you. It’s what she does. Silver will hold off as long as she can, but we have to run.’

  The boy didn’t move. ‘But if this Holly is so dangerous, we can’t just leave Silver to—’

  Jinx snapped. He crossed the meagre distance between in a heartbeat, seized Dylan by his coat and shook him. ‘What do you think Silver is, to have the power she does? Holly’s daughter. Her blood-kin. Her heir. Get moving. Both of you. There’s no time left.’

  He could feel it, a ripple in the earth itself. Holly was coming. The trees felt it and shuddered, the ground felt it and cowered in fear. Holly was coming and Brí’s wards wouldn’t hold her back, not when Silver needed her. Brí’s domain this hill might be, but Brí was a being of fire. Holly was the earth itself and nothing could stop her. Eventually, everything broke before her.

  ‘Now.’ He dropped Dylan, pushed him into motion. ‘Run.’

  The house was dark and empty. The alarm beeped as Izzy let them in. She moved quickly, with practised ease, to disarm it, her fingers dancing over the keypad.

  ‘Kitchen’s this way,’ she said to Jinx.