Better sort them neatly. A cluttered space meant a cluttered mind. She needed to concentrate.
It was so hard. Although now greatly faded, she could feel the sigil’s cold weight pulling on her skin on her chest. She hated it. Hated that she’d allowed herself to be so fucking vulnerable. So many warning signs—he’d even confirmed Rendell’s story for God’s sake—and she’d still walked right in.
She stood, shaking her head to rid herself of the pain of Cormac. Eric ruffled through another set of maps while Caro pounded away on a laptop. Estelle was on the phone with her mentor, ready to direct the vampire contingents. On Michaela’s screen a small green dot held steady—she’d insisted she have a real-time update as to Ivy’s status since the girl was hidden safely away from the battle zones. Isindle sat in a corner surrounded by her magical books. Right now the fey had both eyes closed and her hands working in a complicated contraption she’d made of oak leaves, bark, and wood. She’d called it an amplifier. Eric wanted her close to keep an eye on, but none of them suspected that she was a spy for the fey. Isindle’s hate for Tismelda was simply too strong.
They’d been in the underground bunker since the first Dawning sightings about fourteen hours previous. As they’d expected, Frieda had targeted her first real attack to take out Eric. Their own forces had moved silently to neutralize Eric’s internal enemies the day before, which Frieda had clearly not expected them to do with such thoroughness. Without direction from the mutinous masquerada, the shock troops were confused and easy to round up.
“It won’t all be this easy,” Stephan had warned them before he left to take position near the water. “She’s testing. Remember those numbers. We need to fight smart and hard.”
“Here it comes.” Caro tapped a button and the wall lit up with video of the island’s borders. Several helicopters appeared from the south and troops poured in from ships that landed.
“Evie, confirm the humans aren’t seeing this,” said Eric.
Evie was stationed at the hidden southern command post. “Affirmative. We have them blocked.”
Eric had placed trusted masquerada in positions of power in human institutions years ago in preparation for any crises. At least that was one thing they didn’t need to worry about. Michaela stared at the video streaming through. Their strategy was sound. They had done the best they could.
The updates came quick and fast as all teams reported in. The mers had engaged with Frieda’s forces. The vampires were still holding, waiting for Wavena to give the order when required.
“Incoming,” called Caro. More of the recently turned masquerada, the shock troops, converged on Eric’s island. Michaela moved between the video and the display of trackers around the island, commanding Eric’s forces. She was in a state of icy calm. This was what they had dreaded and prepared for, a fight they hadn’t wanted but they would end.
“I’m going out there,” said Eric.
“No.” Caro didn’t even look up from the display. “You are not.”
“I belong with my fighters,” he insisted.
Michaela looked up to see Caro and Eric staring at each other. “You are the one they’re protecting,” Caro said coolly. “Go out there and you’ll distract them. Let them do their job and you do yours.”
“They’re dying.”
Caro stood up. “That’s right. They are. The same way we would, and you would. They know they need to protect the Law, Eric. Trust them.”
Eric breathed out. “I should be with them.”
“They need you here.” Caro’s tone was final, and there was a tense silence.
Finally, Eric nodded. “You’re right. Always right.”
“Damn straight,” said Caro. “Now get to work.”
* * * *
“Status check on the fey.” Cormac spoke into the mic. They had placed him in a room with multiple feeds and a human tech to show him what he needed. All he knew was that he was on a ship—he could feel the slight dip of the waves. He had no idea where Frieda and the others were, but he assumed they were monitoring him. Even before he’d started, a woman’s desperate, agonized cry had come through the speakers in the room, causing the tech to cringe and cover his ears.
Ivy’s pain, and the message was clear. He’d better stay in line.
He shuddered. The fey. Tismelda kept her soldiers well-trained. Michaela was looking at a catastrophic loss and he was partly the cause of it.
“Report, Minh.” Madden’s voice blasted through the room.
The huge Vietnamese tech coughed and spoke into his mic. “Still nothing.”
“How are they doing it?” Madden sounded infuriated and had already raged that Michaela had kept Eric’s defensive secrets from him. Cormac hid his smile. Anything that bothered that asshole was a brief joy. Right now, Madden was expecting the humans to be going insane with the battle right on their turf between monsters out of myth. There had been none. The most exciting news story had been some celebrity divorce.
“I assume they have some human contacts, sir.”
Cormac almost heard Madden grinding his teeth. “Break it down. I don’t care how.”
The human rolled his eyes at the mic and Cormac filed that for future use. Minh wasn’t a believer.
“The fey?” he asked Madden with exaggerated patience.
“Talk to them yourself.” Madden was gone.
Cormac caught Minh’s eye across the room and made a very slight and careful What are you going to do expression. Minh’s lips quirked before he mastered his face and bent down to his monitor. Good. He’d made a connection. He glanced down to see Minh’s arms had two healed punctures. Perhaps he was one of Frieda’s turned masquerada and not human after all?
“Lord Yetting.” The familiar voice came over the comms speaker.
Cormac closed his eyes. “Rendell. What do you want?”
“Orders, apparently.”
“What?”
“I know. I can’t believe it either. The queen has said that we are to obey your commands. She ordered us into battle on this realm.” Rendell sounded halfway between appalled and furious.
Rendell. Here was his chance. His opportunity. He kept his voice mockingly calm. “Good. At least she recognizes talent.”
“Fuck you, Cormac.”
“Another time.” His mind worked furiously, trying to work out what he needed. Then he had it. “Listen up.”
Rendell listened as Cormac laid out his plan. “I know this battle formation.”
This was the moment. Was Rendell’s loyalty to the queen, or to the Queendom? “I thought you might.”
Another pause. “Perhaps, Cormac. I rather like the idea of you owing me a favor.”
Then the connection was broken.
Chapter 44
“Stephan, pull back. Pull back!” Michaela shouted into the mic, but it was too late. Stephan’s voice disappeared in a steady stream of static. “Stephan! Reply. I repeat.”
Estelle came over and hauled her away from the screen. “Michaela.”
The grief in the vampire’s voice broke her. “Get him back. Pull them back.”
“We can’t.”
Michaela slumped in the seat. The last three hours had seen their forces overwhelmed by Frieda’s soldiers. Madden had rallied the vampires, and they were wreaking havoc. Tom had disappeared hours ago. The shock troops had been more numerous than anyone had expected. Estelle spent most of the time in a frantic conference call between Wavena and her mentor, the seneschal major. Sightings of Yangzei had terrorized their troops, the more frightening for its apparent randomness.
The only thing that had gone in their favor was that they had managed to keep the massacre away from the humans. The Law stood. At least for the moment.
Now Stephan was gone.
“No.” Caro only breathed the word, but it was enough to stop every co
nversation in the war room.
Eric stood immediately. “Caro?”
“The fey.” It’s all she had to say. Michaela looked at the screen to see gorgeous warriors stepping out of trees all over the island.
This was it. The end. They watched silently as the fey moved with an almost balletic precision. There are so many, thought Michaela. So many.
It was over.
Isindle tumbled her books aside and joined them at the screens. “Fey,” she said, as though commenting on the weather. She looked more closely and hissed. “Rendell.”
“With many others,” said Michaela, unable to tear her eyes away.
Isindle was silent as she studied the screen. “This is a message from my brother.”
Every head in the room turned to her. Michaela was the one to finally say, “What?”
“I know this formation. Cormac used it in the last war.” She pointed at the display.
The last war. Michaela stared at it, remembering the story Rendell and Cormac had both told her. The inherent weaknesses in Cormac’s battle formation.
Isindle was right. It was a message.
Did she trust him? Was it a trick? He’d lied to her so many times. The fey thrived on deception. He’d gone to her enemy. He’d worked against her.
“Why would Rendell agree to do this? He’s on the queen’s side.”
Isindle continued to look out, a slight flush on her cheeks. “Rendell does not want to be in this realm, or associate with you.”
That seemed reasonable enough for Rendell. Still not enough. She couldn’t do it. The wrong choice would be the end of them.
Then her heart spoke. “Eric. I want what’s left of Tom’s team to strike here and here.” She pointed at the screen.
Eric regarded her steadily. “You’re committing all we have,” he said. “This is it. Are you sure?”
She took a deep breath and for the first time touched her sigil. It fluttered under her touch. “Do it.”
Eric nodded and gave the orders.
* * * *
The door slammed open and Cormac looked up.
“You son of a bitch.” An unfamiliar man in a wetsuit, bleeding copiously from his face, lurched in and yanked him up with a single hand. He was built like a tank, with long arms and a chest like a barrel. “You fucking betraying son of a bitch.” He threw Cormac against Minh, who collapsed under him with a groan of pain.
Cormac had only managed to get one foot under him when his head was knocked back by the force of the stranger’s blow.
“Fucker,” he gasped through the blood. Was this one of Madden’s minions? Had they realized what he’d done with the fey?
The man leapt on him and the beating began in earnest. Minh was still, either playing dead or knocked unconscious.
“Stephan, come in. Please. Tell me you’re okay.”
Cormac froze. That was his mate’s voice. “Stephan?” He managed to roll away to give himself a moment’s reprieve.
Stephan didn’t hesitate. “I’d kill you now, but then I’d deprive Michaela of the pleasure of doing that herself.”
“I didn’t—”
“Fuck you, fey, and fuck your pathetic excuses. Michaela trusted you and you fucked her over good. You don’t deserve her.”
At least Stephan had that straight. He didn’t deserve her.
“My, this is quite the reunion.” The sweet tone barely covered Frieda’s obvious fury.
Both men shot to attention, their mutual animosity put aside in light of this larger threat. Without saying a word, Cormac and Stephan moved slowly away from each other. Frieda didn’t look visibly armed, but that meant nothing. In a moment she had blasted up to become physically as large as Stephan. Cormac did his best not to gape at her. She was at least twice as broad and a good foot taller than him. These damn masquerada. A quick check around the cabin confirmed what he already knew. There was nothing to use as a weapon, except for a few monitors and the microphone. On the floor to the right he saw Minh inching his way towards the wall and trying to make himself look as small as possible. He didn’t blame the poor guy. Things were about to get messy.
“Frieda, this is all over.” Stephan stood to his full height and for the first time in his life Cormac felt short.
“It’s only beginning,” she said. Behind her appeared several of the new masquerada that Eric had been busy disposing of on the mainland. They looked intent on murder but Cormac saw they seemed unsteady in their new bodies. This was his only advantage, and he would use it.
Frieda and her underlings rushed the room. He ducked down behind the desk and when he rose again his glamour ensured he was invisible to his enemies. On the other side of the room Stephan had engaged two of the newbies and brought them down with almost insulting ease. One had raced to Cormac but came to an abrupt stop when he realized the fey was no longer to be seen. Cormac moved slowly from the table, careful to avoid touching anything that would give his location away. On the floor, Minh stuck a foot out and tripped one of the attackers, who fell face first into a monitor bank.
Frieda stayed at the door and watched as her guards were decimated in seconds before calling out for reinforcements. Cormac didn’t wait. He brought down the last guard with a blow to the back of his neck before leaping towards Frieda. Stephan, alerted by the collapsing man’s grunt of pain and the mass of equipment that fell in Cormac’s wake, did the same.
The two men struck at the same time, but Frieda was ready and armed. Cormac fell back and shimmered back as his glamour retreated. Going against Frieda was like pounding a brick wall.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a shadow at the door, but Frieda aimed at him with a small smile and fired as Stephan managed to slam into her. The bullet went wide, through the door, but Frieda was faster than Cormac had anticipated. She slashed down with the knife held in her other hand and Stephan fell as blood gushed.
There was no time to help him. Cormac lurched to his feet. In his hand was a cable he’d scrounged off the floor. There was no wood, nothing of the dolma that he could call on in this technological tomb, but he was still a soldier. A cord was as good as a vine.
Frieda said nothing but raised the gun again. Cormac whipped his arm out, snapping the cord down to smash against the brute’s forearm.
Then the giant was gone and in her place was a thin whippet of a woman who flashed down and under the table to roll against Cormac’s legs before he could blink. He fell to the ground and slid in the blood that pooled under Stephan’s still body. Frieda was on him before he could move, her long body snakelike and flexible. She bit down hard on his unprotected neck and he wrenched back with a roar of pain as her sharp teeth sank into his flesh. Instinctively, he hit back with his arm and flung her away. In an instant, he was on her, taking advantage of her momentary surprise.
It was enough to get his arm around her throat. It was slippery with the blood streaming from his neck so he wrapped his legs around her, wrestling with her as she fought for breath.
A figure came through the door but Cormac didn’t stop.
“Yangzei,” Frieda croaked. Cormac tightened his arm around her throat so her next words were more thoughts than said out loud. “Help me.”
Yangzei stared at her and tossed his broken neck piece, split where Frieda’s wide shot had shattered it, down at her feet. “No,” he said in that horrific echo.
Then the Ancient left.
Cormac gave one final wrench and Frieda went limp in his arms.
* * * *
“Now.” Michaela stared at the screen, praying that she was right. If she wasn’t, they were looking at total defeat. If she had been right to trust Cormac, well…At the moment, it was still defeat, but not on a grand scale. She was willing to take any advantage.
Eric’s forces charged the fey, focused entirely on the left flank. That was the hidden weakn
ess. It only looked strong because of the troop formation, strong enough that she would never have dared to hit there first.
“You trusted my brother,” said Isindle. The feywoman stood at Michaela’s elbow, watching with her. Michaela glanced up to see that Isindle’s attention was mostly on a man dressed in dark green, camouflaged to blend in perfectly with the trees. A white light blew up from one of the trees and Isindle nodded as if she was expecting it.
“They’ve got mages,” called Caro from the other side of the room. “I count one, five. Maybe eight.”
“That is not many,” observed Isindle.
Michaela stared at her. “It’s more than we thought,” she pointed out. “Especially as we have no magic to counter them with.”
“That will be my role.” Isindle leaned down and kissed Michaela softly on the cheek. “Good-bye, sister.”
Before Michaela could respond, Isindle shimmered and disappeared. She and Caro gaped at the spot where she stood while Eric paused in his orders to the field. “What the fuck is going on?” he demanded.
Michaela looked back at her screens. In the middle of the battle—fey moving like shades against the subtle vampires and the shifting masquerada—a woman in jeans and a white shirt picked her way with bare feet through the trees. A frosty light illuminated her and she held up both her hands to the sky. Lights and fire flared across the island.
“This is it,” Michaela said into the mic. “Now. Now.”
The generals in the field acted as one. As Isindle’s eerie glow intensified, the allied troops moved hard against the fey, who slowly fell back.
Then a green light exploded noiselessly through the forest.
Michaela stood up from her seat staring at the monitor, her cry frozen in her throat. Isindle lay still on the ground, her pale hair spread around her. The allied fighters stood in shock, staring at where, only seconds ago, they had been fighting. Not a single fey could be seen.
Then a young Chinese man strolled up, waved, and opened his mouth.
“Oh, Auntie,” he wailed in Ivy’s voice, but with a demon’s horde echoing behind it. “Make him stop. Make him stop.”
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