Dreamfever_The Fever Series

by Karen Marie Moning

  It annoyed me to think V’lane might have been hanging around, invisible, eavesdropping on us. I gave him a sharp look when he appeared. My hand slipped instantly inside my coat, searching for my spear, holstered beneath my arm. It was gone. V’lane never let me keep it in his presence, but he always returned it when he left. I hated that he had the power to take my weapon. What if he didn’t give it back? What if he decided to keep it for his race? Surely he would have taken the spear and the sword months ago, if he’d wanted them. He’d give it back this time, too, I thought coolly. Otherwise the almighty Book detector would tell him to piss off.

  “As if you could,” said Barrons.

  “Perhaps not. But I do enjoy thinking about it.”

  “Bring it on, Tinker Bell.”

  I stood up.

  V’lane laughed, and the sound was angelic, celestial. Although he no longer affected me sexually, he still packed that otherworldly punch. Regal, larger than life, he would always be too beautiful for words. He was dressed differently than I’d ever seen him, and it suited his golden perfection. Like Barrons, he wore an elegant dark suit, crisp white shirt, and blood-red tie.

  “Get your own fashion adviser,” Barrons growled.

  “Maybe I decided I like your style.”

  “Maybe you thought if you were more like me, she’d fuck you, too.”

  I flinched, but my reaction was nothing compared to V’lane’s.

  I was frozen for a moment, stiffer than the Tin Man without oil. I gave a full body shudder, and ice tinkled to the floor. I stepped forward, leaving my frosty casing behind. The entire library—furniture, books, floor, lamps, walls—glistened with a thin sheet of ice. The bulbs popped, one after the next.

  “Stop it,” I snapped, breath frosting the air. “Both of you. You’re tough guys. I get it. But I’m tired and fed up. So say whatever you came here to say, without all the posturing, then get the hell out.”

  Barrons laughed. “Good for you, Ms. Lane.”

  “Bottom-line it, Barrons. Now.”

  “Get your things. We’re going back to Dublin. We have work to do. The sidhe-seers didn’t save you. I did.”

  “It was Dani who rescued me.”

  “You would have died here if not for me.”

  “I would have saved her,” said V’lane.

  “Bottom-line it, V’lane. And mop up your mess.” The ice was melting. “I’m not cleaning up after either of you. And fix the lamps. I need light.”

  The lamps glowed again. The library was dry. “The Book was spotted recently. I know where and can sift you about, hunting it. You can track it much more quickly with me than with him.”

  “And you’ll report to the Grand Mistress on our progress?” I said dryly.

  “I aided Rowena only to pave the way for us to continue the moment you were able. I answer to you, as always, MacKayla. Not her.”

  “After your queen,” I said bitterly. “The one you chose to stay with instead of rescuing me.”

  “You were first to me,” Barrons said. “There was no queen in front of you with me.”

  “Right. No queen—just four days,” I reminded. “I don’t believe it took you that long to find me. Care to tell me where you were the whole time? What did come before me?”

  He said nothing.

  “I didn’t think so.”

  I crossed the room and moved to stand by the fireplace. It was the old-fashioned kind, made for logs, with no gas hookup. V’lane’s temper tantrum had left me chilly. It had been a cold night in Dublin, and this unused wing was minimally heated. I missed my bookstore fires. I wanted comfort. “Make me a fire, V’lane.”

  Flames crackled and popped from white-barked, fragrant-smelling logs before I’d even finished speaking.

  “I will provide for all your needs, MacKayla. You have but to ask. Your parents are well. I have seen to it. Barrons cannot give you what I can.”

  I rubbed my hands together, warming them. “Thank you for checking. Please continue to do so.” At some point, I wanted to see them, if only from a distance. Even if the cell towers had been up, I wasn’t sure I could have spoken to them right now. I was no longer the daughter they’d known. But I was the daughter who loved them and would do everything in my power to protect them. Even if that meant staying away, so none of my enemies could follow me there.

  I turned around. V’lane was on my right, Barrons at my left. I was amused to see that a sofa, four chairs, and three tables had appeared in the twenty-five feet between them. V’lane had rearranged furniture while my back was turned. As if a little furniture would stop Jericho Barrons. He could move lightning-fast, and there was no love lost between these two. For the umpteenth time, I wondered why. I knew neither of them would ever tell me.

  Still, there might be a way …

  In the meantime, while I stockpiled my flagging energy for the attempt, I said, “Bring me up to speed. What happened at the Keltars’ on Samhain?”

  “The ritual to maintain the walls failed,” said Barrons.

  “Obviously. Details.”

  “We used dark magic. We tried everything. The Keltar come from a line of Druids that have long been walking a fine line. Especially Cian. Dageus and Drustan made the first attempt. When that failed, Christian and I took our turn.”

  “What exactly did your ‘turn’ constitute?”

  “Don’t ask, Ms. Lane. This time just leave it. It was the only thing we could have done that might have worked. It didn’t. It’s no longer relevant.”

  I dropped the subject. I’d get more detail from Christian than I’d ever get from Barrons, and I planned to see him as soon as possible. He was an integral part of my plans for the future.

  As if he’d read my mind, Barrons said, “Christian is gone.”

  I jerked. “What do you mean, gone?”

  “Missing. He disappeared when the Fae realm supplanted Ban Drochaid, the white stones where the Keltar perform the ritual. He was in the circle when it happened.”

  “Well, where did he go?” I demanded, looking from Barrons to V’lane.

  “If we knew that, he wouldn’t be missing,” Barrons said dryly.

  “Impossible to say,” said V’lane, “although we have been searching. My queen is deeply distressed to have lost one of her Keltar Druids at such a critical time. His uncles, too, seek him.”

  “He’s been missing for two months?” I was horrified. Where was the young, sexy Scotsman? Don’t let him be in Faery, I thought, being made Pri-ya! He had just the kind of extraordinary good looks that appealed to the Fae. I hated asking the next question. “Do we know if he’s alive? Does either of you have some mystical way of determining that?”

  They shook their heads.

  I sighed heavily and rubbed my eyes. Damn. Christian was the only man I’d met since arriving in Dublin that I’d actually trusted—well, more than anyone else, at least—and now he was gone. I refused to believe he was dead. That would be giving up on him. I would never give up on any of my humans.

  Not only did I like him, I needed him. He was a walking lie detector. His ability to discern truth from fiction was a talent I’d been itching to put to use. And it was these two standing in this very room that I’d wanted to test it on. I narrowed my eyes. How very convenient for both of them that he’d disappeared when he had.

  I was worried for Christian. I was disappointed that I’d lost the opportunity to force some answers.

  But I hadn’t lost all my opportunities.

  “Get your things,” Barrons said. “Let’s go. Now.”

  “MacKayla comes with me,” said V’lane. “You cannot protect her parents. You cannot sift. She will not choose you.”

  There was enough testosterone in the room for an entire army of men, and I wasn’t immune to it. Even without glamour, V’lane was more seductive than any human male alive. And Barrons—well, the body remembered and reveled in every moment of it. The two of them turning it up at the same time made it a little hard to breathe.
r />   I looked from one to the other, considering my options. They watched in silence, waiting for me to make my choice.

  I stepped toward Barrons.

  His dark gaze glittered with triumph. I could feel the smugness rolling off him, nearly as strong as the sexual charge he was throwing my way.

  “Think hard and fast,” V’lane hissed. “It would be unwise to alienate me, MacKayla.”

  I was thinking hard and fast.

  I closed my hand around Barrons’ forearm. He could not have looked more pleased if I’d just gazed up at him with doe eyes and told him he was my world.

  I locked my hand down, dug my nails into his flesh, and held on.

  His eyes narrowed, then flared, and then I was no longer seeing him at all, because I’d pushed, pushed, pushed violently, stabbed myself brutally deep into his mind with the special sidhe-seer talent that had fully wakened in his bed.

  I wanted answers. I wanted to know why there was so much animosity between these two. I wanted to know who to trust, who was not the better man but at least the slightly less-bad one.

  I pushed, seeking any breach I could exploit, and suddenly I was—

  In Faery!

  It had to be. The scenery was impossibly lush, the colors too rich, vivid, so full of tone they had texture, like that first beach V’lane had taken me to months ago, where I’d played volleyball with Alina, when he’d given me the gift of seeing her again, if only in an illusion. But this was no beach—this was the Fae court!

  Brilliantly colored silk chaises were scattered around a dais. Trees sprouted leaves and flowers of incomprehensible color and dimension. The breeze smelled of jasmine and sandalwood and some other scent that I imagined heaven—if such a place existed—would smell like.

  I wanted to look around. I wanted to see the queen on her dais, but I couldn’t turn my/our gaze toward it because I was a passenger in his head, and I was—

  Inside Barrons’ body.

  I was strong.

  I was cold.

  I was mighty, and they didn’t even know just how mighty I was.

  They didn’t recognize me, the fools.

  I was danger.

  I was everything they should fear, but they’d lived so long that they’d forgotten fear. I would teach them.

  I would remind them.

  I was with a Fae Princess, buried deep inside her. She throbbed around me. She was energy, she was empty, she was sex that devoured. Her nails were on my shoulders, clawing. I was more pleasure than any of her princes could ever be. I was full. I was inexhaustible. It was why she’d sought me. Word had spread, as I’d meant it to, and, bored, jaded, she’d come for me, as I’d known she would.

  I’d spent months at court, in her bed, watching, learning, studying the Seelie court. Seeking answers. Hunting the bloody damned Book.

  But now I was bored, and I’d learned all there was to know from them, because they were fools who drank again and again from a mystical cauldron to make themselves forget. As if forgetting eradicated the sin.

  I needed them to remember.

  They couldn’t.

  But I could make them remember fear.

  V’lane was watching me, as he’d been watching me from the moment I’d taken his princess, waiting for her to be his again, certain she would; after all, they were immortal. They were gods. They were invincible. Waiting for that moment when I was no longer her protected plaything so he could destroy me.

  GET OUT OF MY HEAD!

  I dug my nails into Barrons’ arm and cried out.

  He was fighting me. Resisting. He’d shoved me out of the princess’s body, sent me tumbling, end over end, from his memory at the Fae court.

  I was on the fringes of his mind, reeling from the unexpected ejection.

  I gathered myself, forged myself into a missile of sheer will, and fired back at the blockade he’d erected. I’M NOT DONE YET!

  I ricocheted off a smooth black wall and knew instantly it was impenetrable. He was stronger than me. I couldn’t get through it. I would end up ramming myself to death on it if I tried.

  But I wasn’t about to admit defeat. I harnessed the velocity of that ricochet like a boomerang, made a last-minute course adjustment, and veered sideways.

  Whatever was behind that wall would remain concealed, but I could get something else. I knew I could.

  And suddenly there I was again, standing—

  At Fae court, looking down at the princess—

  Barrons slammed a wall up in front of me. But not fast enough.

  I blasted through it.

  I was Barrons and she was on the ground and I was laughing—

  He slammed up another wall but didn’t get it reinforced fast enough.

  I toppled it.

  The bitch was dead.

  He slammed one more wall up. Too little, too late.

  I shattered it right out of existence.

  Every Fae in the queen’s court was screaming, fleeing for their lives, because the unthinkable had happened.

  One of their own had ceased to exist.

  One of their own had been killed.

  By me/Barrons/us.

  I was choking, sputtering, trying desperately to breathe, and I realized with horror that it wasn’t the Barrons/Mac persona that was choking. It was my body.

  I pulled back, yanked back, stumbled back, ripped myself from Barron’s mind. It wasn’t easy to untangle us.

  His hand was on my throat.

  Mine was on his.

  “What the fuck?” V’lane exploded. It was the most human sentence I’d ever heard him utter. He’d been watching us but had no idea what had happened.

  Our battle had been a private one.

  Barrons and I stared at each other.

  We released each other’s throats at the same moment.

  I backed up a step.

  He didn’t. But then, I hadn’t expected him to.

  “You really can kill V’lane!” I exclaimed. “That’s why he won’t let you near him. You can kill him. How?”

  Barrons said nothing. I’d never seen him so still, so silent.

  I whirled on V’lane. “How?” I demanded. I was shaking. Barrons could kill Fae. It was no wonder the Shades left him alone. “Did he have the spear or the sword?” But I knew in my bones that it had been neither of those weapons. The wall he’d thrown up had shielded the answer. Whatever weapon he’d used, it was not one I knew.

  V’lane said nothing.

  “What does he have on you?” I cried, exasperated.

  “Decide, Ms. Lane,” Barrons said, behind me.

  “Choose,” V’lane agreed.

  “Go to hell, both of you! New world. New rules. New me. Don’t call me. I’ll call you.”

  “To call me, you will require my name back,” V’lane said.

  “So it can fail me again when I need it?”

  “It failed only during that brief time when all magic was down. Such a moment is impossible to sustain. Darroc will not attempt it again. He does not need to. He achieved his end.”

  “I’ll think about it,” I said. And I would. All weapons. Good.

  Something clattered to the floor at my feet. It was a cell phone.

  I didn’t turn. “What’s that for? Duh, no towers, remember?” I mocked.

  “It works,” said Barrons. He paused heavily, the better to emphasize his coup de grâce. “It always did.”

  My breathing stopped. What he was saying was not possible. I spun, searched his eyes. “The power was down! My call to Dani was disconnected. I never got service back!” I knew. I’d kept checking all night.

  He moved toward me so quickly, I didn’t see him coming and had no chance to react. His body was pressed to mine, his lips were against my ear.

  I leaned into him and inhaled. I couldn’t help myself.

  He whispered, “O ye of little faith. Not for IYD.”

  It was the number he’d programmed into my cell, which stood for If You’re Dying.

&nb
sp; “But you didn’t even try.”

  His tongue touched my ear. Then he was gone.

  I sat on the edge of the sofa, rubbing my eyes. I needed sleep in the worst way, but I suffered few illusions that I was going to get any.

  My encounter with V’lane and Barrons had left me too wired for words, and soon the abbey would be waking up, and I’d have a whole new set of challenges to face.

  I stroked the glittering beauty of my spear.

  True to form, V’lane had returned it when I’d demanded he leave. After reassuring myself with its comforting weight, I tucked it back into my shoulder holster.

  I toed my old backpack over by the strap and dug around in it for my journal. I was surprised to find it. I thought someone would have confiscated it. I figured it was a pretty safe assumption both Rowena and Barrons had read it.

  I rubbed the embossed leather cover, grateful to see it again, as if it were an old friend. Since Alina had been killed, I’d filled three notebooks with feelings, speculations, and plans. At first, I’d begun keeping a journal as a sort of tribute to her, a way to somehow connect to her memory.

  Then I’d learned I could pour my grief into its pages, instead of hurting my parents with it. Finally, I’d discovered what my older sister had known all along: that it was an invaluable tool for sorting thoughts, clarifying and refining them, and planning future action.

  God, I missed her! What I would give to sit and talk with her again! To hug her and tell her that I loved her. Since her death, I’d realized how few times I told her what she meant to me. I’d always assumed she knew, that we’d have decades together, planning each other’s weddings, having baby showers, sending our children off to school together, taking pictures at their proms: a lifetime of sisterhood. I steeled myself. No time for emotion. When this was all over, I would wallow in grief. I would make V’lane give her back to me again, in Faery. I would grant myself the balm of illusion. When all this was over, I would deserve it.

  I flipped to a fresh page and began making notes of everything I’d learned recently. If something happened to me, I wanted to leave as detailed a record behind as possible for the next idiot who tried to do something about the mess we were all in.