Twinned Shadow (The Shadow Series Book 1)

by Candice Bundy

  Brent returned with fae guards, more shifters, and a healer in tow.

  “I am Illan of House Birch,” said the male healer.

  “I remember you.” For a moment, Woden’s warning that the shadow-dwellers had others around chilled her. But she remembered Illan from her youth as a skilled healer. Could she still trust him?

  “Please give me a quick overview of what occurred in the altercation,” he asked, “I want to be thorough.” Becka did a quick rundown of the events.

  Illan got to work, his hands aglow as he moved them from Quinn’s head and chest.

  “Please step aside,” he said.

  Becka let go of Quinn, stood up, and then took a step back. She must have been dampening his healing abilities. She watched for a moment, as Illan’s deft use of magic staunched the bleeding and sealed the seared edges of his charred skin shut.

  Brent tapped her on the shoulder. “Becka, can you tell me what happened here?”

  She stood and walked with him. “Woden. He went by Woden. You’d know him as Lagan. He’s dead back that way, but he started this fire.”

  He nodded, expression confused but not questioning her. “Are you hurt?”

  “Yeah,” she held up her wrist, which was still covered in a blood-soaked bandage, and pointed at the blood oozing down her leg. “Woden cut me, and then he drank from me. He was a shadow-dweller. I got that hole in my leg from him too.”

  Brent digested this new information for a moment, his gaze appreciative. “It sounds like you got one up on him,” Brent replied. “Good on you.”

  He called over another healer. Becka didn’t catch his name, but of course their magic didn’t work on her, so she ended up having her wounds washed, coated with antiseptics, and then sealed with medical glue. She gave quiet thanks that the fae kept the simple trauma supplies on hand.

  “Is everyone all right back at the pyre?” she asked Brent.

  “Yes, a bit disoriented and a few bruises here and there, but otherwise everyone’s fine. I’d run into Quinn earlier and we scuffled...we were all a bit confused from the smoke. But he said to follow him. When your trail led back to the grove and then out into the forest, I called in reinforcements.”

  “Thank you, Brent,” Becka replied. “I owe you.”

  Brent pulled her silk gloves out from an inside pocket of his jacket. “We found these at the grove.”

  “Of course you did.” She took them and put them back on, grateful her hands and arms had been cleaned off by the healer.

  Illan arose and approached them. “Quinn has stabilized. I healed more lacerations and burns then I could count, but he’s stable. We will get him moved back to the manor, but I am going to insist he do a stint at the Sirona Healing Springs. He needs the time to rebuild his energy and the healers at Sirona are exceptional. For tonight I will stay by his side.” He turned to Becka. “Do not worry, he will be up and moving about by morning.”

  “Thank you, Illan.”

  The healer went back to Quinn, and Becka watched as fae guards carried Woden’s body into view.

  Brent leaned in close, which meant she had to look up to him to meet his gaze. “Considering today’s events and Quinn’s condition, I’m assigning you a rotation of four guards.” He raised a brow, as if to ask, are you going to fight me on this again?

  She rubbed the bandage on her wrist. “I only want shifter guards. Woden said there are more hidden shadow-dwellers amongst the fae.”

  His eyes widened, but he nodded. “Not a problem with me, but Duchess Maura will insist on her own guards too.”

  “No fae guards, but don’t worry, I’ll take it up with her. There are more shadow-dwellers, and they won’t stop until they have my magic.”

  Saying the words out loud cemented her resolution. She would apprentice with Aunt Astrid to learn what she could of her gift. Becka didn’t feel like she had any other choice, not if she wanted to be able to defend herself.

  She would not allow the shadow-dwellers to win. At least not without a fight.

  “Lorelai. Shamus,” Brent called out. A moment later the pair of shifters appeared. “Escort Becka back to her quarters. Take Luce and Sage. Two eyes on at all times. No exceptions.”

  The shifters shared a look before all nodding in near unison.

  “I don’t think you should be walking on that leg,” he said. “I’ll send for a horse.”

  Becka’s head still floated. “I’d appreciate it.”

  “Welcome back to House Rowan, Becka,” he replied. “I hadn't thought things could get more interesting around here, but you proved me wrong.”

  Becka shook her head. “Yeah, lucky me?”

  Chapter 30

  Despite holding her nose, Becka choked and coughed while trying to down the herbaceous, grainy slurry Illan had insisted upon.

  At least he had the decency to appear apologetic.

  “If you were not immune to healing, measures like this would be optional.”

  The healer’s quarters consisted of an office with an attached infirmary containing a row of four cots. The office was filled with drying herbs hanging from the rafters, rows of jars on shelves, and a broad workbench in the center. The maxi-mixer on the workbench was a little out of synch with the rest of the more rustic elements, but Becka wasn’t going to complain.

  “What’s in this crap?”

  “It is a blend of dandelion, ginger, burdock root, reishi, red clover, and of course, kale.”

  It was too much to hope that, during her years away, the fae might have tired of kale too? “Wouldn’t want to miss the kale.”

  Luce, one of her wolf shifter guards stood at the door, eyeing the glass with revulsion. Becka downed the rest of the smoothie and handed him the glass.

  “No, you would not,” Illan replied, oblivious to her sarcasm. “I think a week of these will be sufficient. We’ll check the bandages on your leg each visit, so be prepared for that too.”

  Becka sighed. “Whatever you say, Doc. How’s Quinn doing?”

  “Ask him yourself.” He motioned towards the infirmary.

  Shamus, another of her guards, stood in the doorway between the office and infirmary.

  “Thanks again, Illan.”

  “I will have another one ready for you before dinner.”

  “Two a day?”

  Illan flashed her a wry smile. “A bit of advice: blood belongs on the inside. Do your best in the future to avoid exsanguination.”

  Becka shuddered, all too aware there might indeed be a next time. “I’ll make every effort. See you later.”

  She walked into the infirmary, Shamus proceeding her and Luce taking up the doorway position behind her. Quinn sat on the bed at the end with a corner view of the estates talking on the phone. He wore some loose pants and a lightweight shirt, not his normal attire, but likely easier on his still tender-looking skin. When he looked up and saw her enter, he hung up. He watched her walk over, a smile on his face.

  “How are you doing?” she asked, taking a seat next to him on the bed.

  “The healer has me on bedrest. I have never been so stir crazy, and it has only been since last night.”

  “Illan said they’re shipping you off to Sirona to recuperate. With your constitution, I bet you’ll bounce back before you know it.”

  “I hope so.” Tension filled his features as he reached out and laid a hand over hers. “Are you all right?”

  “I lost a fair amount of blood and my leg is gonna have a scar, but Tesse’s killer is dead. I’m counting it as a win.”

  “I am sorry you got hurt, Becka. I should have been there for you.”

  Becka laid her hand over his. “If you’d been there with me, he may have killed you. But I used everything you’d shared with me about him and the shadow-dwellers. I talked his ear off and delayed Woden’s plans. Otherwise you, and then Brent, might not have caught up. Things could have gone much worse for all of us.”

  A few minutes of silence passed between them. Quinn took her glov
ed hand and traced her fingers under the fabric.

  “I am glad to see you took Brent up on his offer of guards.”

  “I don’t like the loss of privacy, but I’m no idiot. Brent’s got four shifters assigned on a rotation. Maura wanted fae too, but Vott backed me up when I explained Woden said there were more shadow-dwellers here.”

  “Good.”

  A tight knot gripped the pit of her stomach. Was it anger? Despair? Most likely a little of both. “They’re never going to stop hunting me now, are they?”

  “No. They will not. If anything, now that you have proven your powers they will be even more dogged in their pursuit.”

  “So what do I do?”

  “There’s only one way for you to be safe. The Maker’s Shadow, and all of the shadow-dwellers, need to die.”

  Becka laughed, but his expression remained serious. “Oh, well all right then.”

  “I have to leave for Sirona today, but I’d like to watch your recognition ceremony, if I may?”

  “You’re up to the walk?” she asked.

  “Definitely.”

  “Speaking of the ceremony, Maura won’t be pleased if I leave everyone waiting,” Becka stood, and Quinn stood up too, although he moved cautiously.

  He took in her outfit, and frowned, but he had a slight smile on his face. She was wearing a pair of her favorite bright, springtime yellow palazzo pants and a gauzy sleeveless blouse covered in green, pink, and yellow flowers. “You decided to skip the House of Mirrors penchant for dresses?”

  Becka grinned. “I wore my own clothes. And the gloves, of course.”

  “I bet Duchess Maura is thrilled.”

  Becka leaned forward and brushed a kiss against his lips. “She will be,” she whispered. He grinned at her, a hand resting on her hip possessively. “Walk with me?”

  He gestured for her to lead the way and they exited the infirmary. “Promise me you’ll take care of yourself until I get back?” he asked, the intensity in his amber gaze took her breath away.

  “I’ll do my best. But will Maura allow you to return?” Becka asked, hearing a hitch in her voice. “She was pretty unequivocal in kicking you out.”

  “Woden’s claim that there are other shadow-dwellers here opens a door,” he replied. “I am going to work on getting Chief Elowen to sanction a more in-depth investigation.”

  She smiled. “That’ll work.”

  On the way to the Great Hall, her shifter guards assumed a flanking order, two walking in front and two behind. She felt a bit ridiculous. She’d been walking through the halls of the manor all week and only one person had tried to hurt her.

  On second thought, the strong showing of guards wasn’t ridiculous at all. After yesterday’s events, it felt altogether reasonable. And safe. Mostly safe.

  They turned the corner into the exterior processional hall which was separated from the Great Hall by panes of stained glass, and the outer wall by a lattice of delicately carved granite.

  Alain Hawthorne stood in their path looking every inch the part of the dapper fae, which was a mark of dedicated daily effort. The complexity of his braids alone would have required at least forty minutes by a skilled artisan to maintain. Becka couldn’t imagine her entire morning routine taking that long.

  Alarm bells resonated in Becka’s head, sinking into the pit of her stomach. But she shook it off, assuming her heightened state of alert was to blame. This man had been her twin’s fiancé. He’d obviously been smitten with Tesse. No doubt there was nothing to be concerned about.

  “May I have a word?” Alain asked, approaching with all the due caution a team of four wolf-shifters will inspire. He looked to Quinn, his expression oddly aggressive.

  “Of course, Alain.” At her words, the shifters gave them a little space and Quinn fell back, walking along with the two at her rear, and allowed Alain’s approach. “What did you wish to discuss?”

  “I wanted to wish you congratulations on your newfound ability and subsequent change in status. I am sure Duchess Maura and her consort, Duke Vott, are pleased to welcome you back into their household.”

  Her alarm bells let out another chime. “Thank you for your well wishes. Duchess Maura has been nothing but gracious and welcoming. She even presented me with these heirloom gloves, which are both beautiful and practical.”

  He smiled and his smile was so contagious she smiled reflexively in return.

  “I am so very glad to hear it. And how do you feel about assuming your role within House Rowan?”

  Another faint chime. “I’m a bit uneasy, to be honest. I need a bit more time to process and understand the expectations and responsibilities. No doubt things will become clearer to me in time.”

  “It is assured.” He paused, as if waiting for her to say something else.

  Just then Duchess Maura rounded the end of the hall and approached. She raised a brow as she looked over Becka’s clothing.

  “Lady Becka, Lord Alain,” she said to each of them in turn. “Are you quite ready?” she asked Becka.

  “Duchess Maura,” Becka replied, inclining her head. “I think I am.”

  “Then let us proceed.” Maura turned and walked toward the Great Hall, and Becka fell in beside her. When she glanced back Alain and Quinn were walking side by side down the hall behind them. Along with the shifters, they were a proper procession.

  “You have been absent from these halls for many years,” Maura said.

  Becka met her gaze and nodded.

  “I do not get the impression you are aware of how things will change for you after today.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “This ceremony will designate you a full, guilded member of House Rowan.”

  “Sure, I understand that much. I’ll be a full Rowan again.”

  Maura paused and turned to face her. “You will again be my eldest progeny.”

  Becka rocked back on her heels. She’d been so busy dealing with Woden and Tesse’s loss she hadn’t quite put two and two together yet. “Wait, you’re saying I’m the heir again?”

  Maura’s expression made Becka wonder just how much blood she’d lost yesterday. “Indeed. The guilded heir apparent of House Rowan, with all of the responsibilities and duties that entails.”

  Becka’s gut reaction kicked in, which was to metaphorically dig in her heels. “Look, I understand that’s the custom, but I’m sure you can agree that I'm not the best candidate.”

  Maura’s wry smile vexed her. “I cannot set you aside when you are neither inept nor addled.”

  Becka held up her hands. “Sure, but you can’t just expect me to give up my freedoms and roll over?”

  Maura shrugged. “It is curious to me that a position that others crave is one you feel a burden. There are customs and expectations, but you gain great power, and I am not simply referring to your gift. One day you will stand in my shoes as Duchess of Rowan.”

  “I don’t mean to disrespect you or Rowan,” Becka replied, hands on her hips. “But I’m not the moldable child you sent away. I have a life I’m not ready to walk away from. I’m going to require a level of autonomy in order to agree to this.”

  Maura frowned, but her eyes glinted with amusement. “I was warned about this.”

  “What, that I’d become an independent and headstrong adult?”

  “I was warned you had taken after me more than your father. I suppose I should be impressed, but to be honest, it is a bit infuriating. And I can not discount the difficulty these past many years away from your family have been. You have done well to flourish, and I will not fault you for it.” Maura tapped her foot. “Now, state your conditions.”

  Becka blinked, impressed her gambit had worked. “I want to finish my doctorate. And I have an internship which starts next week. I plan to change our world, fae, human, and shifter alike, for the better.”

  Maura gave her a nod. “Human law requires you finalize your training before leaving fae territory, so the internship is beyond my control. They also m
ight be unwilling to have a guilded fae attend college, but I will not stop you from pursuing it. Additionally, if you agree to train with Astrid I will approve of any civic service you are able to acquire once she discharges you, as long as you understand House Rowan will also have assignments suitable to your powers.”

  Becka’s heart filled with joy. She’d never imagined Maura would agree to let her follow her dreams. Becka would do her darnedest to convince the intrepid professor to take a chance with her, yet again.

  “I will train with Astrid, and I’ll reach out to Dr. Traut and see if the Institute will allow me to delay my internship and studies.”

  Saying the words out loud cemented her resolution. There would be no returning to her home in the city with Aunt Lydia anytime soon. The internship with Dr. Traut’s Interspecies Studies department at the Institute of World Politics would be delayed, at best. And there would be an apprenticeship with Aunt Astrid to learn what she could of her gift.

  After this ceremony she would be heir apparent to House Rowan. Becka had managed to go back in while holding her ground with her mother, and that alone was a huge win. It might not be the custom of fae-touched to allow their youth such freedom, but perhaps it was time.

  “Anything else?” Maura asked, brows raised.

  “Not right now,” Becka replied, elated. She looked back at Quinn and Alain, who both appeared pleased with the conversation. She debated asking Maura about allowing Quinn to stay, but decided she’d bring that up later, if his plan to have Chief Elowen send him back didn’t work out. “But I’ll keep you apprised.”

  Maura shook her head. “We should go in then.”

  They walked to the door, Becka feeling hopeful again for the first time in a while. Perhaps being the heir of Rowan wouldn’t be too restrictive after all? Maura appeared willing to work with her, which made her future brighter, despite the potential shadow-dwellers waiting in the wings.

  “Oh, one last thing,” Maura said. “I would hate for there to be any misunderstandings at this juncture.”

  The alarm bells were back. Becka arched a brow.

  “As you are likely aware, as with any betrothal of standing, there were contracts signed between Houses Rowan and Hawthorne.”