Sister's Keepers

by Belinda White

  We all went out to check out the men's new digs. Jed carried in some spare firewood for the stove.

  "I'll pick up a few bundles of wood that will do us until I get the chance to split some more." Part of the reason I heated with wood was because I had easy access to fuel. My acreage was heavily wooded, and there were usually a few downed trees that made quick firewood. Splitting it though was really hard work. I'd go soft before long if Jed kept doing it for me. I made a mental note to surprise him with some split and stacked firewood for the stove.

  We gave our guests the grand tour, and Jed and MacDougal took some measurements and decided it would be pretty short work to put up a couple of walls to give them a little more privacy. They made a list of what they needed and headed to the local lumber yard and hardware store. It was really nice having a man around.

  While we were in the workshop, I got a fire going and dragged out the boxes of Dell's stuff I had stored in the back room there. She pulled them closer to the stove and started going through them with glee. Actual glee. I hadn't heard squeals of delight like that in a long time. Too long. I watched her for a time, then decided I'd put off getting in a supply of wood for long enough.

  I dug out the ax and made sure it was sharp enough to make short work of the splitting and started in. Luckily Jed had already used the chainsaw to cut the downed trees into manageable sections. Within an hour's time, I had a respectable stack of firewood. I was putting away the ax and getting ready to carry my stack into the workshop when I caught a slight whiff of cedar and lavender.

  It was the only warning I got.

  Luckily the wolf brain is much quicker to identify scents and their meanings. If my brain had been a hundred percent human, I wouldn't have survived. As it was, the tiny arrow grazed a huge gash along the top of my abs. I'd been in the process of turning toward the scent when it hit. That's what saved me.

  The Benandanti connection must have been working because Rebel was on his feet and headed for the woods at speed. Going on instinct alone, I ran a diagonal path to his to catch the hunter from the front. Whoever—or whatever—it was, they were fast. Reb and I met on the pathway through my woods and kept running. Wolves have great speed and endurance. Eventually, we would run him to ground, no matter how fast he was. Provided of course he didn't make it through a Faerie gate first.

  That thought lent an even further boost to my speed. Reb was still out in front of me, but then he was running on four legs and I was stuck with only two. If I'm wearing a loose enough top, I can change with it on. But jeans are a different story. It would take far too long to undo my button-up jeans and get them off. Even more time lost because I was wearing my hiking boots. To make matter worse, the boots were heavy and added a lot of unneeded resistance to my run. Tennis shoes from here on out, I swear.

  We gained enough to catch a glimpse of movement through the trees. A pale green that didn't belong in my woods. Probably didn't belong anywhere outside of Faerie. Taking hope, we split, each of us taking a different direction to hopefully catch him in the middle. If he veered off, one of us would have him.

  Unfortunately, he didn't veer. MacDougal may have thought the other faeries were not accustomed to automobiles, and for all I knew that may still be true. This one, however, was good with a motorcycle. He reached the road and the waiting cycle and was gone.

  Wolves are fast, but not that fast. Especially ones wearing boots.

  With our quarry out of reach, I finally had the time to remember that I'd been shot. Then the pain set in. And the worry. I remembered catching an incredibly quick glance at the arrow that hit me. It was extremely tiny. The thoughts of poison darts and arrows seeped into my brain, and the worry grew.

  I pulled my shirt up and looked at the track the missile had left. Blood, I expected. Possibly even green poison oozing from the wound. What I didn't expect, but found anyway, was a small very thin pink scar ranging high across my abs about three inches long. What the hell?

  Reb pushed his nose to my stomach, whining.

  "I don't know either, fella," I said. "But I do know I should be bleeding right now and I'm not." Even as I watched, the scar was fading from pink to white. Impossible thy name is faerie.

  We started making our way back to the workshop. That's when it hit me that my shooter could have been only half of a pair of assassins. Or for that matter a third of a trio. And we were running again.

  Dell looked up, startled when we burst into the workshop. Seeing my expression, she bolted to her feet. "What's wrong? Are we under attack?"

  I was breathing pretty heavy from my run, so I went with a nod. Not wasting the breath as I locked the workshop door behind me. The only windows were high, and luckily I'd sprung for actual glass, knowing that I was going to be spending a lot of time here. We should be safe from that angle. No trees were close enough to allow a clear shot down to the floor and us. There was no doubt in my mind that faeries could climb trees better than monkeys.

  By the time I got it fastened, Dell was beside me with a short silver sword in her hand. Where the devil had that come from?

  "We chased him off. He got away on a cycle," I said.

  "Did you see him? Enough to describe?" Dell asked.

  I shook my head. "Only a glimpse of what looked like long blond hair and a light green tunic." I stopped. "I called the shooter him, but it could just have easily been a her."

  Dell nodded. "Faerie assassins come in both genders, so your guess is as good as mine on the gender." She paused, looking at me with new respect. "How did you know they were there? Not many can say they survived an attack from one of the Erlking's assassins."

  "I can believe that," I said. "I caught a whiff of Fae and was turning when his arrow hit me."

  Dell went white. "His arrow hit you?"

  Oh, Creator. Was it poisoned after all?

  "Grazed me," I said, lifting my shirt. "Is it poison? Is there an antidote?"

  Dell's fingers traced the fading scar, now a thin white line. "Not poisoned, or you wouldn't have had the opportunity to chase them. Faerie poisons are especially quick working. The assassin went with spelled instead. Spells won't work on a poisoned arrow."

  "Spelled?"

  Before she could answer we heard tires on gravel. I looked at the door. Okay, now I was going to have to install a peephole in my workshop door. Luckily, it wasn't long before we heard Jed's voice outside.

  I opened the door and ran to him, catching him off guard. I'm not usually so demonstrative. But then I'm not usually a rare survivor of a faerie assassin, either.

  MacDougal saw my face before I buried it into Jed's chest, and cast a worried glance toward the workshop door where I'd left Dell. When he saw her standing there, he looked vastly relieved.

  Jed stroked my hair and made soothing sounds until I calmed enough to be coherent.

  "What happened?" Even his voice was soothing. Creator, having a man was making me soft. Gathering my shredded pride, I stepped back out of his arms.

  "Let's lock up the workshop and head back to the house. I'll feel safer there." He glanced back at the workshop, his eyebrow lifting. "I know the workshop is safe, but there isn't any good way to see out. We need to install some peepholes, or small windows or something." I shuddered. "We don't want to walk out not knowing what's waiting for us."

  Once we were inside I poured myself a diet soda laced with vanilla vodka. I felt entitled to it, even if it was still a little early to be drinking. Dell was silent, too, and the men were getting impatient.

  "I'll repeat my question," Jed said. "What happened?" His voice sounded strained. He'd never seen me shaking scared before. Angry scared, yes, but shaking and drinking scared, no.

  I took a sip of my vodka and soda. "The first strike by the Erlking's assassin."

  MacDougal's eyes widened and flashed over to Dell. "Did you see them?"

  Dell shook her head. "I was in the barn going through boxes from my old life." She shuddered. Their reactions to the strike had me even mo
re concerned. I mean, they knew what we were up against. And they were terrified.

  "Neither did I," I said. "Not really. I was splitting firewood and caught a whiff of cedar. Luckily, I was turning to find the source when he fired."

  "A gun?" MacDougal sounded hopeful.

  "No, an arrow of some kind. I barely even saw it." I looked up at Jed. "It didn't look like a normal arrow. It was so small."

  MacDougal swallowed but stayed silent.

  "I take it he missed," Jed said.

  "Almost. The thing grazed me as it passed." I lifted my shirt to show him. There wasn't a single mark on my skin. I traced where the line should have been. "Not even a scar now." I looked to MacDougal. "How is that possible?"

  MacDougal swallowed again and glanced at Dell. She was the one who answered.

  "It was a spelled arrow. The good thing is that faerie spells don't work on poison, or else you'd have dropped the instant it pierced your skin."

  MacDougal nodded. "Fae poisons are potent in the extreme. Our assassin must be going for stealth rather than show. Poison can be traced, elfshot cannot."

  "Elfshot?" Jed asked. He only beat me to it by a fraction of a second. He started to stand. "I'd like a look at this arrow."

  MacDougal reached out and touched his arm. "A wasted quest, me lad. The arrow is no more."

  Jed's brows drew together. "Are you saying it disappeared?"

  "Nay, lad. It melted."

  "Melted?" We both spoke together that time.

  "Aye. When the Erlking wants to take a kill in stealth, he spells arrows of ice. A spell on the tip to hold it hard as steel and a spell on the end to close the wound. A powerful healing spell that." He looked thoughtful. "Not many Fae can do that."

  "So, does that help us narrow down who did this and find them?" Jed asked.

  "Would that it would make a difference," MacDougal said sadly. "Whoever acted, did so on orders from the Erlking. No choice did they have."

  "Back to these arrows of ice," I said, still trying to grasp the concept. "Are you saying they leave no trace of the person being shot? What about a doctor's examination. We do autopsies here, you know."

  MacDougal cringed. "An unnatural thing that, taking apart a body dead to find the cause. But alas, even that would show no sign of faerie arrow. The ice arrow would pierce the heart, do the damage, and melt as ice will." MacDougal shrugged. "In days of old when a person in your realm dropped dead from no visible source, they were said to have been elfshot. Sometimes, they were right."

  "Okay." Jed was gathering his thoughts. I could tell when he got that scholarly look about him. Of course, this was the first time I’d seen it look so deadly on him. I wouldn’t want to trade places with the assassin when my mate got his hands on him. Or her.

  "Okay, so why exactly does the Erlking want Shay... I mean Dell... dead? What would it take to get him to call off the hunters?" Jed asked.

  "Only one thing would stop the Erlking from sending his assassins," MacDougal said.

  "The death of the faerie princess."

  Chapter 15

  "WHY CAN'T YOU JUST denounce the throne and be done with it?" Jed asked.

  "The Fae royalty isn't a thing of choice," said MacDougal. "Not entirely. While the heir may choose whether or not to sit upon the throne, the spirit of Fae determines who in the royal family shall reign. Not all who sit the throne are accepted."

  "But if she doesn't agree to the throne, she still can't be Queen, right?" I asked. Faerie politics were confusing, to say the least.

  "Correct. But a faerie vow can usually be broken by any true Fae. In our realm loopholes abound. For instance, even if Dell swore to never sit upon her father's throne, technically she could have another, even finer, throne designed and sit upon it instead. And that is but one of many ways around such a vow," MacDougal explained.

  "The Erlking has fathered many children throughout the past generations," Dell said quietly. "Any one of which could have, in time, challenged his reign. Of all those countless children, only I remain of the king's bloodline." She looked at me. "Only I can inherit the rule of the Unseelie court."

  "So you have to run from him for the rest of your life? There has to be a way to negotiate with him. To let him know you don't want his throne." I hesitated. "I mean, you don't, do you?"

  Dell shivered. "No. I do not. Nor do I want the rule of the Seelie court."

  That raised a question.

  "As heir to both courts, you could challenge either or both the royal figures, right? The Erlking and Titania. So why isn't Titania worried?"

  Dell shrugged. "Mother is the Queen of Fae in all rights. And the Fae are known for deception and manipulation. She had a reason for giving me life and a reason for choosing the Erlking as my sire. What those reasons are, I do not know." She took a deep breath. "But I can say truthfully that I believe she, too, would have me killed if she thought I would one day challenge her."

  Now I was really puzzled. "So if she didn't want someone to challenge her, why did she have a child?" I mean surely they have birth control in Faerie too, right?

  MacDougal looked uncertain as if we were bringing up things he hadn't thought of himself. "The queen has hinted of bringing the courts together under one rule. In all of Fae, there is only one who could accept such a reign." He looked pointedly at Dell.

  Dell just looked at him. "Can you truly see Mother stepping aside?" Her voice dripped with sarcasm.

  "No," MacDougal said, "but she has hinted plain enough that was her intention in having you. Her true reason she has kept close to her own breast."

  "Well," I said. "At least for now, the only royal figure we have to worry about is the Erlking. Once we've dealt with the immediate problem, we can tackle Titania's reasoning. Agreed?"

  "For sure, the Erlking is the immediate threat. It did not take him long to seek out the heir here in the human realm," MacDougal said.

  “Which brings up a fair question,” I said. “Why hasn’t he tried to kill her in the sixteen years she’s been in Fae? Why now?”

  “My father truly thought his pact with the Skin Walker had taken care of me all those years ago. When Mother had me brought home and healed, she kept it a secret upon pain of death.” Shaylee sounded sad.

  MacDougal nodded. “Aye. But now the queen must be readying the road to the throne for her daughter. And the world of Fae must know she’s alive for that.” He smiled at me. “For what ‘tis worth, it’s believing me queen chose Shay’s protector well I am.”

  Rebel came and laid his head in my lap, looking up at me with those soulful brown eyes. We had left Maggie and the pups with Rose and Lily. As I scratched his head, I realized he must be missing them.

  "Why don't we all try to think of a way to get the Erlking around to our way of thinking," I said. "In the meantime, I think a visit to see the pups is in order."

  Rebel grinned up at me. Yeah, I can read my dog.

  The trip to Gosport didn't take long and even though privately I think we had all hoped for some words of wisdom from Rose, none were forthcoming. She was as clueless as the rest of us. So we spent some time playing with the puppies. Well, as much as you can play with day old puppies. Mostly we just watched them interact with Maggie and Reb. But it worked and we all left there with at least a fair share of hope.

  Well, they had hope. I had a plan.

  I WRESTLED WITH MY conscience for a long time. I really didn't want to tell Jed what I planned to do. As he was sleeping in the workshop with MacDougal, I figured he wouldn't even have to know what I'd done until it was over. But then again, this might just be an act he might never forgive me for. And as I planned to spend a lifetime with him, that was far too long a period to live with a sullen, quiet Jedadiah Crowe. So I told him.

  "No way," he said. I knew that would be his response. "That isn't going to happen."

  "Look, there has to be some way to negotiate a truce with the Erlking. Something he would agree to in order to stop the attacks. But we'll never know i
f we can't talk to him, now will we?"

  We were sitting out on the porch, huddled together under a blanket on the swing. I had decided to give Jed my news without the presence of the Fae. They were inside watching a movie. I could hear their laughter drifting out. Funny, but I hadn't laughed during the Alien movies. They must think they were funny as hell.

  "I'm not letting you put yourself in a dangerous position when I can't even be there to guard your back. We'll find another way."

  "There is no other way," I said. "We've all been racking our brains all day to think of something else. And we've all got zilch to show for it."

  "I'm still not agreeing to this," he said.

  I took a deep breath. This was the tricky part. I had followed my conscience and told him, but I still planned to do it even if he wasn't on board with it. It would be nice, though, if I could get him to come around.

  "Look, it all happens in a dream, okay? He can't really hurt me. You can watch me sleep, and the minute you see me stop breathing or seem to be in distress, you can wake me up."

  He looked at me. "And how am I supposed to know you're in distress?" He ran a hand over his face. A sign of just how uncomfortable this idea made him. "What if I wait too long and you can't come back? What if you get trapped there?"

  I shook my head. I'd spent the afternoon pouring through some of the journals we had borrowed from Rose.

  "There isn't any record of that happening, ever. We wake up and we're back safe and sound with no harm done."

  "What about Rose's grandmother? You remember her, don't you? The one that went insane?"

  "From what Rose was telling me, she went insane because the Fae wouldn't let her sleep in peace. Eventually, it drove her mad. She didn't go crazy from anything that happened in Faerie."

  "And you think the Erlking is going to let you rest in peace?" He half choked. "Creator, I don't like the sound of what I just said." Neither did I.