by C. S. Wilde
His hand trembled slightly.
“What did this voice tell you?” Mera asked, following his every move, her aim sharp and ready. She pointed it to the sofa’s cushions and the cuffs atop them, then back at him. “Also, if you don’t mind.”
He ignored her request. “The voice told me to give the human’s soul to the sea.” Drinking until the glass was empty, he slammed it back on the table. “So, I did. I stupefied the human and dragged her to the water.”
“You don’t strike me as the type who gets his hands dirty,” Bast challenged.
“Usually, I’m not,” he countered simply, his gaze lost.
“Your father had affairs before,” Lisandra mumbled, her voice quivering with shock and sorrow. “Why was this any different?”
“It was a filthy human, Mother! The banshees, the pixies—those affairs I could forgive. But one of these weak, disgusting bugs?” He pointed at Mera. “Never! Spring and Autumn would think us weak! It would shift the entire power balance. I couldn’t let it happen.” A deep breath made its way down his lungs, and he studied the floor aimlessly. “I held the human underwater… bubbles popped on the surface until there were none left. I waited a little longer after that.”
“You ended her life and her child’s,” Mera stated, something knotting in her throat. “You went for your father next.”
Walking to the window, he watched the city, holding his hands behind his back. “The human dropped her bag when I stupefied her. Father would be tracking her through that ridiculous device he’d bought. I saw an opportunity to make him suffer, and to reach my own goals. I paid a faerie to winnow me and the body into Hollowcliff, dropped it at the human’s home and waited, knowing father would take the bait.”
When he turned to them, Mera thought she might be losing it, but she spotted regret in his eyes.
“Father was powerful, so I had no choice. The moment he entered the apartment and found her, I had to take advantage. I grabbed the pointiest object I could find. He pivoted in time to see me, but not fast enough to stop me. I rammed the stake into his chest.” He scoffed. “So powerful and almighty that he was. So disappointed in me as he stopped breathing.”
Bast exchanged one worried glance with Mera. “I think now’s the time you cuff yourself.” He raised one hand, and flames of void whipped from his skin. “I can always force you to surrender. That would be fun.”
“I murdered Zev,” Lisandra blurted, her voice a whisper as tears trailed down her cheeks. “My son is trying to protect me.”
“Stop, Mother. They won’t make an arrest. There’s no evidence to incriminate me and Solomon is a good friend.” He snapped his fingers and some twenty Sidhe, wearing fighting leathers, barged into the space.
“You’re threatening two officers,” Bast growled.
“Who do you think got rid of Captain Asherath?” A diabolical grin cut through his lips. “The Autumn Court was mightily grateful for my assistance.”
Bast’s teeth gritted in anger. “Sakala wu, malachai.”
“I’d let my mother go, if I were you.” The prince turned into a golden blur and boosted toward Mera. He tossed her gun aside and trapped her in a headlock before she could react. “I won’t ask again.”
Ignoring the strain on her neck, she laughed. “You’re toast, assface.”
Only then did he truly pay attention to her.
Zachary patted her waist with one hand and found the wiretap Mera had been using. Pulling it away from her, he yanked the duct tape that attached the device to her skin. It burned, but only for a quick second.
“What’s this?” he threw the tap on the floor and stepped on it.
“It’s a listening device,” Bast explained. “Hollowcliff taskforces will be paying you a visit soon. Your puppet at the precinct can only buy you so much time.”
Zev closed his arms around Mera’s neck. “You’re lying.”
Bast shrugged. “You think you can fight humans and their guns. You might be right, but it’s a serious gamble. You forget, however, that Tir Na Nog is a part of Hollowcliff. Even if your little coup worked, you’d never take down shifters, vamps, and witches. We’re stronger together, remember that, malachai?” He chuckled low in his chest. “Your little dream has always been a delusion.”
“Rae-henai!” The Summer Prince snapped. “The two of you won’t leave here alive.”
The faeries closed in on Bast, some with crackling magic bursting around their bodies, others unsheathing daggers and swords from their belts.
Twenty against one.
Mera writhed against Zachary’s grip, but he was too strong. “You coward!”
He chuckled lowly in his chest. “You’ll have a front-row seat to your partner’s end, human. Consider yourself lucky.”
Letting go of a shocked and unresponsive Lisandra, Bast stepped away from the Summer Queen. The faeries followed his every move, ready to strike.
Clouds of night flared out from his hands. Grinning widely at the Sidhe around him, he flashed them his sharp fangs.
“Let’s dance, malachais.”
Chapter 22
The first faerie sent a whip of red magic at Bast. It wrapped around his forearm, crackling and sizzling. He winced in pain but pulled the Sidhe toward him and smacked a beautiful punch on his nose. The magic vanished into thin air as the faerie crumpled unconscious to the floor.
Flames of night circled around Bast’s feet, whipping out and burning any opponent who approached, but these Sidhe were powerful. Their own magic battled Bast’s darkness as they jumped into the circle, weapons at hand.
It wasn’t fair.
Mera struggled to break free from Zachary, while Bast fought every faerie that attacked him. Her partner was already panting, and several cuts ripped across his shirt and vest. A small mound of unconscious faeries lay to his left.
Zachary was strong, too strong, which meant he must be enhancing his strength through magic.
“You’ll watch, human,” he whispered as three faeries jumped at Bast at the same time.
‘The last person who said that to me paid with her life,’ her siren growled.
Two of the faeries unsheathed their swords, pressing the blades across his neck in an X, while the third shot golden light into the flaming darkness surrounding him. Bast screamed in pain as a hissing sound bloomed from the clash, as if the Summer fae’s magic was scorching his own.
His flames of night wavered before sinking into the floor.
Another Sidhe grabbed the handcuffs from the sofa and clicked them around Bast’s wrists. Four faeries to contain one.
Fucking unfair.
The guard stepped away carefully, observing him.
Bast growled, veins popping on his forehead since he probably tried to use his magic, but the tentacles of night didn’t show. He glared at Zachary, his chest heaving, teeth clenched. “You’ll regret this.”
“Will I?” Zachary shrugged. “Doesn’t seem that way.”
One of the Summer faeries unsheathed the sword on his belt, breaking Lisandra’s cuffs in half. She rubbed her wrists as the cuffs clinked to the ground.
The Summer Queen watched Bast with sorrow before facing her son. “Zachary, you’ve proved your point. But there’s no defeating Tagrad, and there’s no defeating the police that will soon storm into our home. You must run.”
Mera blinked, wondering if she was dreaming. For the first time ever, Lisandra seemed… rational.
“We control the police,” Zachary snapped. “Our court is mighty. We are Tir Na Nog, and Tagrad obeys our every whim.”
“We can bend the law, but there’s a limit, and you’ve crossed it.” Tears burdened her voice. “There’s no return from this, son.”
“You clueless bitch!” he barked. “No wonder father cheated on you.”
Lisandra gasped, but Zachary was done with her. He focused on Bast, who still struggled against his cuffs. “How does it feel to be helpless, Detective Dhay?”
“I don’t know,” he c
ountered. “Why don’t you tell me?”
A smirk grazed Zachary’s lips. “Stay,” he whispered in Mera’s ear.
His magic became a physical hold on her, weighing the same as a hundred iron shackles, trying to drag her to the center of the Earth.
The bastard had stupefied her.
Her own magic, born from the water inside her, thrashed against his, but his spell was a wall she couldn’t break.
Zachary strolled toward Bast with hands behind his back. He stopped before him, briefly turning to Mera. “I’ve been waiting to do this for a long time.”
His fist violently smashed into Bast’s stomach, and her partner fell on both knees, gasping for air. Zachary didn’t wait. He kicked Bast’s face, the thick, hollow sound piercing Mera’s chest.
Her partner slouched on the marbled floor.
“Stop!” she screamed, but Zachary didn’t listen.
“I lost count of the times you and your Captain Asherath busted my court’s dealings.” He kicked Bast in the stomach again, lifting him in the air for a second before he crashed back against the floor. Breaths wheezed from Bast’s throat, clawing into Mera’s chest.
“Is that all you got, you shig?” He coughed, spitting dark, wine-red blood.
Grinning, Zachary ran a hand through his straight hair. “I’m only getting started, Detective Dhay.”
Bast struggled to push himself up, and the Summer Prince watched him with amusement. His legs shook beneath him, but they didn’t buckle.
“You’re mighty brave when I’m wearing these.” Bast half-turned to show him his cuffs. “Why not make it a fair fight?”
Zachary’s answer was a left jab on his ribs, then his jaw. He hit Bast nonstop, the sound of his knuckles against his flesh a cruel thwack, thwack, thwack!
Angry tears soaked Mera’s cheeks. She howled and thrashed, but her body didn’t move.
Dark blood streamed down the right side of Bast’s face. It tainted his disheveled hair, dripping over his shirt and vest. He wobbled on his feet but refused to fall, like a stubborn tree nearly cut in half.
Bast spat onto Zachary’s fancy shoes. “Rot in the deepest crevices of Danu’s hells, baku.”
The Summer Prince raised his hand for another blow; perhaps the final one.
Mera couldn’t take it anymore. Fury scorched through her body, her soul, all of her, making her see burning red. “Touch him again, and I’ll end you!” she shouted.
Zachary gave her a smirk. “I have an idea.”
Walking closer, he trapped Mera in another headlock, his magic freeing her enough that she could fight against his grip.
Not that it was any help.
A laugh rumbled in his chest, pressing on Mera’s spine. He forced his cheek against hers, but kept focusing on Bast. “You’ll watch your pretty human die, Dhay. How does that sound?”
“Your fight is with me!” Bast boomed, panic lashing in his blue eyes as he stepped forward. Instantly, two blades crisscrossed before his neck in a warning, but he fought against them, causing thin lines of blood to trickle down his skin. “If you hurt her, I swear—”
“You swear what?” Zachary laughed. “You’re powerless, Detective.”
Mera didn’t know why or how, but a familiar sizzling took over her body. The raw power she hadn’t felt since the day she’d killed her mother, swam underneath her skin, clawing into her veins. The hairs on the nape of her neck rose.
‘Show them the power of your song…’
“Let me go, you fucking asshole,” Mera ordered.
Zachary’s magic shattered against the tsunami that was hers. His heart went suddenly still. She could feel it as the macabre spread into his blood, quietly, silently. He hadn’t noticed it yet, his focus more on Mera’s glamour than anything else.
Zachary’s arms trembled as he lowered them. With a scowl, he grudgingly stepped aside. “How are you doing this?”
“Quiet.”
Mera felt the rush of blood through his veins, the clenching of his jaw, the rise and fall of his lungs. All of him was stamped into the macabre, all of him a map in front of her.
Pushing against her magic, Zachary tried to mumble a kill order, but his jaw set itself before he could finish.
The goons around Mera and Bast blinked, as if they couldn’t quite grasp what was happening. They did get the message, though.
“For Summer!” they yelled, brandishing their weapons.
Time seemed to slow when the two Sidhe beside her partner raised their swords, the blades cutting the air toward his neck.
Bast’s gentle, warm gaze was an apology. He smiled softly, a silent message that said he cared for her; the same message that told her to look away. That he didn’t want Mera to see him die; not like this.
Mera felt trapped between reality and nightmare as the macabre burst from her—straight into the two faeries.
More, it whispered, I want more.
Her magic went further and deeper, plunging into every Sidhe warrior’s essence, all twenty of them. It pierced into their entrails, controlled the water in their tear ducts, and took over their flesh, making it hers to command.
Mera exhaled in relief as Bast’s executioners stopped mid-swoop.
They stared at each other, clueless to what had happened. Their magic fought against her control, but Mera was a giant and they were nothing but ants.
This thing inside her scared Mera and her siren, but it also freed them like nothing else in the world.
Zachary glared at her, his face nearly as red as Lisandra’s hair. “Abomina-tion,” he managed through his clenched jaw.
Remarkable that he could speak, really.
He struggled against her power enough to grunt, “Akritana.”
Waterbreaker.
Stating the obvious wouldn’t help him, though. Mera surveyed the room that now belonged to her.
Every Sidhe shook against her control, trying to fight the macabre. Which was pointless. These fae might be powerful, but Mera’s surge was bigger than them, bigger than anything, including herself.
‘Something’s wrong…’ her own voice warned from a great distance inside her.
Mera wiggled her fingers and the faeries’ blood boiled. Maybe they hadn’t been alive during the war, but they must’ve heard the tales of entire armies exploding in a symphony of flesh and bone.
The macabre’s dance.
Their bodies inflated, the sheer pain from torn veins and flesh driving them mad. Mera knew because the macabre showed her everything. They screamed, and some even pissed themselves.
Lisandra curled into a corner on the far left, and stared in horror as her skin puffed, her eyes nearly popping out of their sockets.
She’s innocent, Mera’s muffled voice fought through her raging trance.
I do not care.
Apart from Bast, she would burst every fae in this place from the inside out, and be reborn in their blood. It was Mera’s to claim.
That annoying voice⸺her own⸺spoke again, but this time, it didn’t whisper. It shrieked, bellowing one word repeatedly inside her head.
Mother! Mother! Mother!
Mera gasped and stepped back. She stared at her own hands, still reeling in that raw, larger-than-life power. The metallic taste of blood spread over her tongue, sumptuous and enticing.
‘Free me,’ her own voice whispered. ‘Free yourself.’
Never. Never again.
Bast gaped at the swollen Sidhe while they slowly deflated. “Kitten?” he croaked, turning to her.
Mera stared at the faeries circling them, Zachary included. She’d made a garden of crying, pissing, terrified flesh statues. Her macabre still held them tightly in place, but they didn’t seem to be in pain anymore.
‘They will tell on us,’ her siren warned. ‘Kill them.’
They deserved it, especially Zachary, but Lisandra didn’t. The Summer Queen might be a bitch, but she had no blame in this. And Mera had nearly killed her.
Slamming both hands
over her face, she finally claimed control over her thoughts. Poseidon in the trenches, she’d almost…
So much for helping the innocent.
These faeries had become witnesses of her true nature; of what she could do. Yes, it was either their lives or hers now, but mass-murdering went against everything Mera fought for as a detective; everything the Cap taught her.
To protect and serve.
When she’d fought her mother, Mera was also protecting and serving. Her people. All of Atlantea. Perhaps, that had been her purpose all along. Yet, ending the faeries’ lives would turn her into a monster.
Mera would rather die than to make Ariella Wavestorm proud.
“I guess you won’t need to report me, partner,” she whispered, hands falling at her sides, her throat hoarse and her tone weak. “Their testimonies will be enough.”
Bast stumbled toward her, a wine-red trickle coming down the edge of his mouth. Half of his face was painted with his own blood, the other swollen and going purple. He wiggled his wrists behind him and Mera got the message.
Raising her hand, she pointed at him. Tears pushed out of every fae’s body at her silent command, especially Zachary’s. They screamed in pain, but she didn’t care. Not after what they’d done to Bast.
Their teardrops concentrated into a tiny mass of salty water that floated before her, then morphed into a line that entered the locks in Bast’s cuffs.
Mera calmed the water.
The molecules which made the liquid thrummed slower, until water turned to ice. It broke through the lock easily, the cuffs clicking as they hit the marbled floor.
“You used magic on a cuff,” Bast spoke with a certain awe. “That’s impossible.”
Yeah, no shit, but Mera couldn’t explain how she’d done it. She had no clue how she’d done a lot of things today.
Bast stepped forward, pressing his forehead to hers, his hands carefully settling on her waist. “I knew you were akritana the moment you used the macabre on that witch, kitten. I’m not stupid.”