by Laney McMann
“If you’re not going to tell me what’s going on, how am I supposed to help?” Max rubbed the top of my hand with his thumb.
“I’m just tired. It’s really late. Is this place even open?” I tried not to think—to not to let him hear anything else he might freak out about. The voices in my head scared me enough, without Max being afraid, too.
I ran beside him across the highway to the opposite sidewalk, and with a grin he opened the clear glass front doors of Cross Roads Cafe. “They have breakfast all hours.” He pointed toward the blinking neon sign that read ‘Waffles. All Hours,’ and lifted a brow. “Your favorite.”
I pushed onto my toes and kissed him on the cheek, as he ushered me into the restaurant with a loving smile. We sat in a two-seater booth overlooking the Intracoastal Waterway. Drifts of white, wispy clouds contrasted the clear night sky over the narrow expanse of brackish water.
“That wasn’t so bad,” he said, seeming to relax a little. He opened his menu. “Who needs a car? Walking’s better for you, anyway.”
“You didn’t have to tell your grandmother to do that, you know. Loaning me your car. I would’ve been fine.” I opened my menu.
“I didn’t tell her to loan it to you,” he said in nonchalant way. “I told her to give it to you.”
“Give it to me? What are you talking about?”
He didn’t look up from his menu. “I don’t want you driving that piece of crap anymore, especially now that you’re doing things you don’t realize you’re doing, apparently.” He eyed me, clearly trying to hide his obvious lingering concern. “You noticed your car was gone, didn’t you?”
“I … yeah.”
“I had it hauled off to the junkyard—the one decent idea your ex-boyfriend, Devon, had. Now you have the VW.”
“Max—you can’t just give me your car.”
“I already did.” He looked back down at his menu. “What sounds good? Told you they had waffles. Ooh, they have frittatas.”
“So, that’s it, then? We’re both going to act like nothing else is going on? That seeing a Banshee wasn’t a death sentence? The Fomore searching for you? We’re just going to sit here and eat?” I didn’t mention the voices in my head.
Max peeked over the top of his menu with a grin, seeming to study me before he set it down flat on the table. “You really don’t remember anything that happened in my bedroom?” He emphasized the word ‘bedroom’.
I averted my gaze.
He sighed. “I’m not worried about Agrona. I’m worried about you. And if memory serves me right, I think we’ve already been issued one death sentence just for being who we are. What’s another one? I’m sure if my grandmother sent her, she’s harmless.” He shrugged. “And I could be wrong, but I’m guessing the Fomore are going to take my not coming back as sign to go screw themselves.” He picked his menu back up. “So, what are you getting? I’m starving.”
Why is he always hungry? I stared at the cover of his menu, opened mouthed, and put the palm of my hand over the words, pushing it back down. “Max—” I wanted to tell him that I did remember. Remembered every single thing that happened in his bedroom, but I couldn’t, because I didn’t know how to tell him that it hadn’t been … me. “I’m sorry.”
He leaned across the small table, resting on his elbows, and kissed me lightly on the lips. “We’ll figure it out. In the meantime, I’m here with you,” he said in a whisper. “The only place in the world I want to be.” He kissed me again and sat back down. “We should walk more often. You know, like normal couples do.”
“So, is that what we are?” I bit my bottom lip. It wasn’t like we talked about it.
His eyes darkened. “I—isn’t that … you don’t want that?” He sounded crushed. “You said … before—on the roof. Wait, am I missing something?”
“You’re not missing anything. But I can’t go back and forth. We’re either all in, or all out. It hurts too much to be in between.”
“Lay, you realize why I thought I had to leave, right? I mean, it’s not like I like what I’m doing—putting you in danger by being here right now—” He groaned and rested his head in his hand. “I can’t win, can I? I told your grandmother I’d do right by you and keep my word to your father.”
I put my hand on his arm. “I told you before that I was in.”
He glanced across the table.
“I’m still in. I’ll fight. For you. For us. But only if you’re in, too. Only if you’re positive this is what you want. That I am what you want.”
He raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth edging up. “Was that a question? You didn’t just say that like you were serious. Like there was some kind of decision to be made.” He shook his head, not taking his eyes off mine. “You are a part of me, Layla. Being away from you feels like ripping my soul out. I can’t function without you. Do I want you?” His voice grew low and soft. “It goes way past want.” He leaned forward, eyes alight, and brushed my mouth with his. “I’m all in. I’m sorry if you ever thought I wasn’t.”
“So, we fight.” I grinned.
“We fight.”
A pink waitress’ uniform came into view. “Are you two ready to order yet, or do you need a minute?”
The walk to my mother’s house turned out to be much farther than either Max or I anticipated. We were both drenched with sweat by the time it came into view.
“Good thing you didn’t order the pancakes.” Max trudged up the sidewalk’s incline. “I think you’d have thrown them up by now.”
“I’m not sure your frittata was the best option.”
“Please don’t say that.” He looked green.
We released each other’s hands about halfway through the trek, too slippery with sweat to hold anymore. Thankfully, there was still an ocean breeze to keep the worst of the hot, night air to a minimum.
“I told you we should’ve traversed,” I said.
“And I told you I want to do normal couple stuff. Moonlight walks, dinner … anyway, Justice told me you’re not supposed to traverse.”
“Right. Well, next time, let’s make sure the restaurant isn’t two miles from my house, and our nighttime romantic walks aren’t at three o’clock in the morning—in the summer heat.”
“I’ll remember that,” he said, and I saw his VW gleaming in the moonlight in my driveway. Benny’s car sat in the grass to the right of the garage, where my beat up car used to sit covered up under its tarp.
“Oh, thank god. Finally.”
Max reached out his hand for mine and yanked me to a hard stop. “Stay here.” He took off at a run, speeding toward my house.
“Max?” I stood in confusion, like a statue, for about three-seconds, until I zoned in on the front door of my mother’s house. Heat bubbled down my arms, and I took off, racing after him.
Fear shot through my body like a bullet. The front door was shredded, torn away from the hinges. Both living room windows had been shattered, glass strewn across the front yard, and half of the garage door panels were missing, while the rest had been ripped off. My mother’s car was gone, but it was Benny’s car that scared me most.
Empty, but still running.
“Benny!” I screamed.
All her windows were busted out as if they’d been hit with sledgehammers. The driver side door hung open wide. The radio blared, and the interior lights flickered on and off.
“Benny!” I tore into the house behind Max and ran up the stairs.
Max flung the guest bedroom door open and stopped. I slammed into his back, and he reached his arm out, keeping me from falling. Over the headboard, stabbed into the wall with an ancient-looking dagger, a piece of paper hung. Max ripped it loose.
“We had an agreement, MacKenzie. I thought you understood. Return to your people, cut ties with Teine, or the Fae girl dies. I have no use for such filth. Horrible creatures, but for you I will spare her life—for you, I am offering a second, and final, chance. If you refuse, the Fae will die, and Teine will disappear. I
really do despise these types of altercations.”
The note fell to the floor from his hand, crushed into a ball by his fist. Chest heaving with breaths, he punched a hole through the wall. “I hate them!” His yell was sharp.
I eyed Benny’s room, a mass of disarray. She’d fought whoever came after her. I’d never thought to protect her. Never knew she needed it. Maybe none of us had. I thought I might be sick.
Max turned and cupped my jaw in his bloody hand, desperation and anger marking his expression. “You see all these Oghams?” He stared furiously.
I looked down at his wrists. The Etchings crawled as though they were alive, forming odd elongated green angles up his forearms.
“Use yours. They’re more powerful than you know. If anything suspicious gets within ten feet of you, kill it. Okay? Kill. It. Whatever you did on the roof before—causing it to shake? Use that. And your fire. Use anything.” He paced to the bedroom window, glancing out. “Go to the Underground. I’ll send Justice. Tristan, too. He can manage on his leg, if he has to.” He strode back and reached for my hand. “Tell your mom what happened. Your grandmother, your aunt. I want every single person guarding you. Do you understand? Everyone.”
I nodded, swallowing hard. “He’ll never come back.” The familiar voice chanted in my thoughts.
“Traverse to the Underground. Stay there.” He stared deep into my eyes. “Promise me you’ll stay there. That you won’t come after me.”
“Okay.” It was almost inaudible. “Say goodbye to your Prince.”
“Layla?”
“I said okay.”
From a distance, a door creaked.
“Okay. I’ll be back,” he said, and the sound grew closer. “I promise I’ll be back. I’ll send Benny home.” He held my hands tight, keeping his gaze locked onto mine. “Okay?” A floorboard shifted—the one right outside my bedroom door that was always loose. “On three. Ready? One, two …” He squeezed my hands, and chills spread through my body.
“Wait—” I barely heard my words. “Don’t—”
“It’ll be okay.” His hands squeezed mine again. “On three.”
I shook my head. “You have to take me with you.”
“I can’t, Lay. Please. Just believe in me. No matter what. Promise me you will.”
“You know I will.”
A doorknob turned. Metal brushed metal. A soft click followed.
“Say the words, Princess, and you will be reunited with your beloved.” The voice chimed in my head again.
“Blood of my Kin –
I call you by name.
Rise and wake from within—
True wielder of the flame.”
My body trembled, violently, the words repeating in my head. Max held my face in his hands, his gaze holding mine, but I didn’t see him. Only a stranger stared back. A stranger with black eyes, wearing a steel breastplate hidden underneath charcoal colored robes. Firelight rose around his body like he’d been set ablaze. Sweat beaded across his forehead. The base of my skull exploded with a blistering heat. Power coursed through my limbs. Glass broke.
Max let go of my face and took a step forward, past me, hands open wide at his sides. Cat calls and jeers played off the walls inside my house. Wind whistled around the bedroom with a screeching cry, twirling my hair around. Energy rushed through my limbs, as if feeding off my blood, welcoming an attack. Engrossing, incredible—alarming energy.
The door to Benny’s room burst open, metal hinges flying in every direction, and the wind grew to a deafening volume. Gold and cream colors whirled as one before turning grey and black, obscuring my sight. Yells fought with the screeching rip of wind, and I realized massive wing spans had crowded into the bedroom, gathering around us in a semi-circle.
Max grabbed my hand again, warm and strong, and backed my body behind his as he pushed me against the wall.
“Found our note, Ancient?” a familiar, mocking voice said from the doorway. “You can’t hide her. But for you, because we go way back, I’ll do an easy trade. The Fae for Teine.”
“Don’t make me kill you, Ryan.” Max shoved me farther back until his back was pressed against mine, and he stood with his hands open, feeding off the air in the room.
“Ah … Max, you wouldn’t do that. Anyway, take a look.” Ryan held his arms wide to the sides, blood and puss oozing from his flesh, talons torn from feet and hands. All the gashes I’d witnessed before in the club I’d gone to with Justice, remained present across Ryan’s gargoyle body. The stench of death tainted the air. “I’m pretty close to dead, as is.”
“Maybe Max wouldn’t take you out, but I’d definitely consider it.” Justice’s voice came from nowhere, and he pushed his way through the surrounding gargoyles to stand beside Max with a smirk. “Wanna try me, Ryan?”
“Nice timing.” Max said, just before laughter erupted in my head.
Someone yelled. I gripped the window frame at my back. The room dissolved around me like evaporating smoke. Glass shattered. A lance of feathers split through my skin on a cry, and black plumage emerged, quill upon shiny quill layering itself all over my body.
“It’s her!”
A whoosh of wind pulled me upward, out the window.
“Justice!”
“Go!”
31
Max
“Layla?”
She slumped into me as we landed on my grandmother’s front porch. Grabbing her by the shoulders, I tried to steady her shaking, and make her look at me, but she only growled, deep and guttural, and pulled away on unsteady feet, toppling backward against the porch railing.
I caught her before she hit the ground. Under the porch light, it was hard to tell, but her pupils looked wide and round, making her eyes seem almost black. Sweat beaded above her lip and on her forehead. She yanked away from me, hard. Oh, god. Not again.
“Max …” Reaching out, she fell, as if she couldn’t see me or didn’t know I was there.
I caught her again. “I’m right here.”
“Okay.” She gripped my hand. “Don’t … go—”
“I’m not going anywhere.” My voice hitched at the fear in her tone. “I’m staying right here.”
She held tighter, her fingernails biting into my palm. “Something’s … wrong.”
“Can I … I want to touch your forehead. Don’t hit me, or anything.” The sudden slump in her posture forced me to steady her again, and my hand brushed across the back of her neck. Something scorching hot and raised grazed my fingertips. Panicked, I pulled her closer, and pushed her hair away.
A miniature depiction of a raven blazed red, just below her hairline on the back of her neck. “Oh, god, Layla …” I grabbed her wrists. Both Oghams rotated in deep green circles, winding and unwinding again.
Her body leaned farther forward, as if her knees were giving out, and she pressed into me. Trails of black feathers poked out of the skin on her arms and across her shoulders.
“There’s a Raven on your neck.” This can’t be happening. It’s not possible.
“Ah …” She sighed. “To help me find you. I didn’t need it, though.” She leaned in close to my face. “You came back.”
“Who … who put this on you?” I shifted her body to my right side, trying to hold her up. “Layla?” Her head rolled to the side again, eyes drooping. “Who put the Ogham on your neck?”
She smiled, and her cheeks flushed, as if a fever spread through her body. “The Gatekeeper … helped me.”
“The Bean Si? Oh, Lay, what did you do? I’m going to touch your shoulders, okay? Just hang onto me.”
Her eyes closed. “Don’t … go.”
“I’m not.” I shifted the straps of her tank top off of her shoulders. More feathers were visible, and her Oghams writhed around in slow circles, spreading out and pulling back again. “Come on.” I scooped her up, knocking the back of her knees with my hand, and cradled her up into my arms. “Hold on to me.”
She gave a weak nod. “Don’t … leave �
�� again.” Looking up at me, her dark eyes hazed over with a milky white film. “Promise. You won’t … come back this … time.” Her unconscious weight sagged against me.
“Layla? Layla!”
Tristan was asleep on the couch with his casted leg resting on the coffee table, when I burst through the front door of my grandmother’s house. He sprang up, eyes wide, centered on Layla’s face, as I staggered inside and stumbled into an armchair.
“I told you.” He hung onto the back of the couch, half asleep and standing on one leg, yet still managed to have an attitude. “I swear I have some sixth sense, or something.” He rubbed his eyes. “What happened?”
“I don’t know.” I laid Layla down on the couch, propping her head up on one of the throw pillows, and ran up the staircase to the landing. “Grandmother!” Clearing the steps in one bound on the way back down, I rushed into the kitchen, soaked a dish towel with water, and rounded the corner, falling to my knees beside the couch, and placing the towel across Layla’s forehead.
“MacKenzie, my child?” My grandmother ambled down the stairs, her hair everywhere. “What—what are you doing here, and why are you shout—” Her gaze swept toward Layla’s body, and she picked up speed. “Tristan, go get my potions. Quickly.”
“Grandmother—“ I could barely speak. “I don’t know what’s happening.” My words rushed out in a rambled mess. “She said she’s been having nightmares, and she hasn’t looked or sounded right. She’s burning up—feverish.”
“Calm down, child. You did the right thing bringing her here.” Placing a wrinkled hand across Layla’s forehead, she removed the towel and coursed her fingers across her neck, over the Oghams on her shoulders. “Yes, we have something at play.”
“I’m so sorry I didn’t come home to see you before—that I let Layla’s grandmother tell you what was happening with Elethan. I was afraid you’d tell me no, or talk me out of it.”
“Shh, child.” She placed a hand on my cheek, staring into my eyes. “I raised you, and I trust you to do the right thing. I have no doubts in you. Try to relax now.” She glanced up at Tristan, who stood with an ornately carved wooden box I recognized all too well. “I need you to contact your brother. Lorelei and Berneen, as well. MacKenzie and I must take Teine to the Infirmary in the Otherworld.” She pushed to her feet with a groan.