The girl nods and throws herself into Arden's arms. Her sobs sound weird and animalistic, and I cringe. Then I realize she has no tongue.
Damn.
Druids be crazy.
"A'right, everyone, let's ditch this hellhole," I say.
"Wait," says the Far Darrig suddenly. "Before we leave— Arden, I gave them the spell. The one to turn humans into Korrigan."
Her face pales. "You what?"
I turn to him, furious. "You gave these creeps a way to make monsters?"
"They wanted to turn themselves into Korrigan, so they could take Fae powers like Aislinn can."
I stare at him. "That's even worse. And you told them how?"
"They tortured her." His voice is actually shaking. "I couldn't watch it. You would have done the same."
He's probably right. Damn, do I actually feel sorry for this guy?
The Far Darrig turns back to Arden. "Can you find the spell in their system? A file somewhere? Their leader typed it into his laptop. We have to destroy it."
"I can do it from here, if his laptop is on and connected to their network." She's already heading back to the computer at the big lobby desk to continue whatever digital magic she was doing there before the three of them stumbled out of the elevator.
"I think he left the laptop open," says the Far Darrig. "On his desk."
"You'll have to give me some time," Arden says. "And hope that it is open, and turned on. And connected to the network."
"How long will this take?" I say. "Aislinn isn't lookin' so great. And you aren't either, man."
The Far Darrig looks at me. "We have to do this now. The few that are left will try recover the spell."
"The few that are left?" My arms are starting to ache from holding Aislinn, so I lay her on a sofa in the lobby.
"I killed the druids," she says. Simply. Like she's talking about ordering a burger. "All except a few. Did you see a girl with purple hair, or a guy with glasses in a black hooded robe?"
"June and Malcolm? No, I didn't see them. Maybe they went out a different way, a back door or something." I glare at the Far Darrig. "What did you make her do?"
"We'll tell you everything, but right now destroying that spell is the most important thing. Can you understand that, human?"
"Just shut up and help Arden get it done," I say.
"Hey, hey now," says Laurel. "You two calm down. Z, they've been through a lot, cut them some slack, okay?" She lays her hand on my arm.
"Come here, you." Arden motions to the Far Darrig. "I'm in the network, and I'm seeing a few computers connected right now. See if you can help me guess which one is his."
He walks stiffly over to her, holding his ribs with one arm.
I look down at Aislinn. Her eyes are closed. With the blood-drenched bandages and the hue of her skin, she looks like she could be dead.
"I'm here, okay?" I whisper, brushing aside a strand of her fiery hair. "Gonna take care of you."
I glance up, and the Far Darrig is watching us. I ignore him. She might have picked him over me, but neither of them can stop me from caring.
"We found his computer," Arden exclaims. "He named it SupremeLeader123, the idiot. I'm doing a vulnerability assessment right now. I'll get remote access, and then I'll have to go through recent logs and commands so I can find the right file. Just a little more time."
The mute girl is still crouching near the elevator. Her knees are pulled up to her chest, and she seems to be making herself as small as possible.
Laurel walks over to her and kneels down. "Hey there, I'm Laurel. You're Wynnie?" The girl nods. "You want to get out of here, right? We'll get gone just as soon as they find that file, okay?" Laurel's voice is smooth as honey. In the silent lobby, the sound of it is soothing.
There's a moan from one of the druids I knocked out. I go over to him, and he's moving. "He's comin' around! What should I do?"
"Hit him again," say the Far Darrig and Arden together.
It's different hitting a guy when he's down, instead of coming at you with bloody hands and a mouthful of spells. But if he gets up and manages some magic, that'll be bad news for all of us. So I give him a swift kick to the head, not hard enough to kill him, but enough to knock him under again.
When he comes to, this guy's going to be the same homicidal creep he was before. I hate to think of him running loose. Same for his buddies, whom I also have to clobber again before Arden finishes the job.
"Hey, should we call the cops about this whole deal?" I ask.
"Definitely. But after we leave," says the Far Darrig. "The human police can't help us, and we can't tell them everything. But they can take this place apart and shut it down. If there are any other prisoners, they'll find them, too."
"Here's the file, I think," says Arden. "The most recent one. Okay, deleting it now. They could technically recover it if they know what to look for, but I doubt the police will think it's anything but the ravings of a madman." She takes an extra few minutes to wipe footage of us from their security cameras, then jumps up. "I'll run ahead and get the car pulled around to the door."
"Someone should go with you," says the Far Darrig. "It's dark, and the other druids could still be around, in the woods."
"Laurel, you go," I say. "I need to stay here, to protect the Far Darrig and the girls." It feels dope to say that, like I'm some kind of hero.
"It'll be a cold day in hell when I need your protection, human," says the Far Darrig after the door closes behind Laurel and Arden.
"Yeah? Cause you did such a great job here, protecting yourself and Aislinn. And quit calling me 'human.'"
"If you stop calling me 'Far Darrig.' "
"I'll call you what I damn well please."
The mute girl, Wynnie, is looking from one of us to the other. She looks distressed.
"It's okay," I tell her. "We just don't like each other much. We kinda hate each other's guts."
"True," says the Far Darrig.
From her spot on the couch, Aislinn makes a sound— a kind of pained whimper. We both look at her and move toward her a couple of steps. Then we look at each other. It's like neither of us really knows where we stand with her— which one has the right to comfort her now.
"I didn't make her do it, you know," he tells me quietly. "She saw a human sacrifice that was supposed to be me. She thought they killed me. And she drained the life out of all of them with one spell."
Even I know that's something huge. "How did she manage that?"
"I don't know— I wish I could have seen it. I don't think anyone's attempted a mass Life-Stealing before. But the only way she could have mustered enough power would be by druid magic."
I glance at the bandages, how they've been ripped aside. "Her blood."
He nods. "I'm guessing that, plus whatever extra fenodyree strength she had, and her Korrigan magic. Triple threat. Still, it's incredible that she was able to absorb that much energy at once without dying."
He's been supporting himself on the lobby counter, but he looks like he's about to collapse. "Why don't you sit down, man?" I say. Then, because that sounds too nice, I add, "What are you, some kinda idiot?"
He chuffs in disgust. "That, I am not."
"Why you talk like that anyway, man? Like you're from freaking yesteryear. Can't you adopt some dang vernacular?"
"You mean, like, saying 'like' all the time?" He sneers. "Throwing useless words into a conversation. No thanks."
Arden and Laurel will be pulling up any minute. Now is the time to say what I have to say to him, before they get back and before Aislinn wakes up. Before all my courage and adrenaline drains away and leaves me with this shaking mass of nerves at my core.
"You're not good for Aislinn," I say. "You've done nothing but add danger to her life. You treated her badly, man. Tried to get her to kill me, cause you were freaking jealous. You got her into this mess. Man, when you gonna realize you're bad news for her? You're just being selfish, playing with her. Go get yourself another girl, someone who d
igs this whole crazy life of yours."
He sits down on the floor, leaning against the lobby desk, and stares at Aislinn for a long minute. There's a desperate look in his eyes. "Everything you just said is probably true. But I tried leaving. I didn't get far. And you know, she didn't really want me gone."
I hate that he's right. When he stopped chasing her, she started chasing him.
"Most of this is my fault," he says. "But being what she is, who she is— that comes with complications, and dangers. Trying to deny that is asking her to deny herself. She is Korrigan, one of the Fae in a sense, not human. You're not doing her any favors by trying to make her like you. Tell me, isn't that a kind of selfishness, too? Trying to force her to be your ideal of a perfect girlfriend?"
I shake my head. "I didn't sign up for this."
"And you don't have to."
"I do love her, though."
"It's impossible not to."
Dang it, why do I feel like tears are coming into my eyes? "I still want to punch your face in," I say.
"Some other time, maybe? I've been hit in the face quite a lot in the past several days."
"Yeah, they fixed you up good," I say. "Your finger— was that part of the torture?"
"A test," he says. "Their leader was going to cut off her finger unless I offered mine. So I did."
And just then something changes. I respect that, what he did. Giving a literal piece of himself for her. Maybe he's not 100 percent the selfish bastard I thought. Let's say 95 percent instead.
Just then, Laurel and Arden burst through the front doors. "Car's here! Let's go!"
While Arden and I help the three injured ones into the car, Laurel runs around the lobby, wiping down everything Aislinn, the Far Darrig, or Wynnie might have touched. "Just in case they try to pull fingerprints," she says.
Since she's slimmer than me, she squeezes into the back with the other three. We're gonna have to skip seatbelts, just this once. My mom would flip out. Or maybe she'd just be proud that we rescued some people.
Too bad I can't tell her about it.
I pull the little hoodoo bag out of my pocket and give it a toss. "Do you think they worked?" I ask Arden.
"I don't know," she says. "But we're alive, aren't we?"
We made it out. It's more than I expected.
"Arden, you good to drive? You awake enough?"
"Sure, who could sleep after all that?"
"Me." I lean my head against the seat and close my eyes.
27
OUT
Aislinn
Lights flashing pink through my eyelids. A warm, solid wall of someone's chest, and strong arms. A smell of saltiness and spice and pine. Zane.
A soft space, a couch, in the lobby of the druids' building. I sink into it, and into the darkness.
And then there's motion again, and a humming all around me, and bodies pressed together in a small space. I'm in a car, my head sagging and bumping against the window, but I'm too tired to lift it. A hand, partly covered in rough cloth, moves my head to the opposite side, so it's resting on a shoulder that smells of sweat and blood. I don't like it, but it's better than thumping against the window glass.
Foggily, I hear someone calling the police. I don't recognize the voice, even though it comes from right next to me, from the owner of the shoulder. My brain manages to connect the pieces— Kieran is using another voice to tell the police about the druid stronghold.
Now he's calling someone else in his own voice, someone named Ériu. My brain makes another connection— healer. Good. He needs a healer.
Pain shoots through my stomach and side and chest every time the car jolts. I hear Kieran breathing hard too, like he's struggling with a heavy load.
I'm coming back to myself, slowly.
Beyond the window, trees are flashing past— dark trees, with limbs like clawed fingers, reaching toward us, scratching at the dark sky.
The trees go on forever, and I know there are dark things in them— pale monsters with long necks and purple gums and yellow teeth, tall druids in black robes, prisoners without tongues and leprechauns blazing blue with dragon fire.
Finally, finally, the woods give way to lights. Golden lights, white lights, red and green and orange. My city.
We're in a parking lot. When Zane opens the car door, I nearly fall out, but he catches me— picks me up and carries me to the apartment door. I watch moths and mosquitoes flit around the light just outside while Arden fiddles with the lock. The night is full of soft traffic sounds and the singing of crickets.
"Take her inside," she says, pushing the door open. "Then go back for Wynnie and the Far Darrig."
Zane carries me toward the couch that Arden and I picked out. "Don't," I mutter. "I'll get blood on it."
"Aislinn, it doesn't matter right now."
"It does matter! It's ours," I insist. "Put a blanket over it."
He sets me down, and I stand unsteadily against the wall while he covers the couch with a blanket. "There. You happy now?"
"Yes." I sink onto the couch. It's bliss and pain all at once.
Wynnie comes creeping into the apartment on her own, and then Zane follows, supporting Kieran. "She wouldn't let me touch her," he tells me, nodding to the mute girl, who is disappearing into Arden's room like an animal seeking a cave.
Of course she wouldn't let him touch her. Not after what she's been through.
"You take Laurel home," Arden says to Zane. "And Zane, thank her for me."
He nods. "I'll be back to check on her— on them— this afternoon."
"Get some sleep, human," says Kieran, but his faint smile takes the sting out of the word.
"Same to you, F.D.," Zane says.
I'm trying to process that they're actually joking a little. Zane's almost out the door— he's closing it, but I have something to say.
"Zane!" I call out for him.
"What?" He comes back and leans over me, looking handsome and sweet and strong, like a superhero.
"You were amazing," I say. "Thank you."
"Hey girl, I do what I do," he says. It hurts to smile, but I do anyway. "See you later."
◆◆◆
Right before dawn, Ériu comes.
She's the most gorgeous woman I've ever seen. Dark brown hair flowing over her shoulders. Full pink lips, the lower one plumper and slightly dented in the center. Skin clear and perfect, faintly pink cheeks. And her eyes are clear, calm blue, like a lake on a cloudless summer day. She's tall, just like Kieran, and slim. She wears a long pale-blue sundress that flows around her legs like water, or mist.
When she enters the apartment, Arden stands back and ducks her head, almost like a bow. Kieran rises in spite of his wounds. "Aislinn, this is Ériu, daughter of Emmas and Delbáeth of the Tuatha dé Danann."
I swing my legs off the couch, feeling very unattractive in my bandage-clothes, all traces of makeup gone. I haven't brushed my teeth, combed my hair, or shaved my legs in a couple of days. I'm disgusting, especially compared to this goddess-person. Why didn't he tell me she was coming? I've been sleeping on the couch for an hour— I could have spent that time showering instead.
"Nice to meet you," I say, and I try to bow a little but with the cuts all over my chest and abdomen, it's too painful.
Ériu's voice is smooth and light, like a clear stream running over smooth stones. "Don't bow to me, little one. I hear you're quite a power in your own right."
"Not so much," I say, lying back down.
"Every warrior gets wounded occasionally." She looks at Kieran. "I assume you want me to heal her first?"
"Please."
"No!" My voice is louder than I mean it to be. "You first. Are you kidding? You went through way more torture than me. And your finger—" I look at Ériu. "Please, heal him first."
"He does seem to be in worse shape." She turns to Arden. "Some clean sheets and towels, please, and warm water."
Arden is nobody's servant. Had anyone else asked, she would have frozen th
at person with a look; but for Ériu, she hurries off wordlessly to fetch the things.
Ériu and Arden spread out the sheets and towels in the living room, and Kieran lies down on them. He's only wearing the ragged bits of his pants; it's the closest to naked I've ever seen him, but it's impossible to enjoy that fact when nearly every bit of his beautiful body is stained with horrifically colored bruises and riddled with wounds. Even Ériu seems shocked.
"Midir, why did they do this to you?"
"They wanted the spell I used to make the Korrigan," he explains, and her lovely face creases with anxiety. "Don't worry, we destroyed the record of it before we left."
"You're sure you destroyed the spell? They can't use it now?"
"There are only a few of the druids left," says Arden. "And yes, we destroyed it, as far as anything digital can be destroyed. I didn't wipe the laptop hard drive, but the police will take that. The druids won't be able to get it to recover any files."
"I ask because I've been hearing rumors. News of change. There are plans in place for Samhain."
"Plans? Whose plans?" Kieran asks.
"A druid sect, that's all I know. You know the druids are friendly with some of the fenodyree? One of them told a friend of mine that when the Veil to the Otherworld thins this year, it will mean the end of life as it is, for humans and Fae."
"It makes sense that they had something in the works. They were going to sacrifice me for Samhain," Kieran says.
"The death of a Tuatha dé Danann would be a powerful sacrifice indeed," Ériu agrees.
"And then there was the warning, from Ainmire," he says. " 'The old is becoming new. The hidden will leap from their holes, and the hunted will seek for prey. A door will be opened, and can only be shut by blood.' "
"Do you think it could be a Gate?" asks Ériu. "One of the entrances to the Otherworld? Were they planning to open one?"
"Here, in the U.S. of A.? I doubt it," Kieran replies. "But if they were hoping to do something so insane, they certainly won't be able to now. They've had a severe setback, a reduction in numbers, thanks to Aislinn."
"Yes, you told me on the phone," Ériu says, with a significant glance at me.
Druid (Secrets of the Fae Book 2) Page 22