Summon (Rae Wilder)

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Summon (Rae Wilder) Page 3

by Penelope Fletcher


  Lies could not pass my tongue. I said nothing. There were a chosen few who knew the truth of Rae’s return, and they were sworn to secrecy.

  I prodded the side of my head. My skull healed from the damage the loa inflicted when she swatted me as if I were a fly, but it remained tender.

  Not misinterpreting my silence, Kian narrowed his eyes. “I glimpsed her during the battle. She’s different, and you do not deny it.” He rubbed his chin. “Rae is returned to us changed. What is–”

  I spun to him with a harsh glare. “Do not speak of it aloud.” Wary of those watching, I gentled my tone. “Remain at my side during the Meet. You will learn of it all.”

  “It is a matter of trust?”

  “This must be kept secret.” I rubbed the back of my neck. “The Tribe is in uproar.”

  “Not over what you think.”

  My lips parted to demand he speak plainly, but Rae drifted towards the clearing edge stealing my attention.

  I assumed she’d follow the carved steps into the upper tree limbs to seek rest, but she stopped, and searched for something unseen. Peered warily into the dark.

  I cocked my head. “Rae?”

  She ignored my soft calling of her name. Avoided meeting the eyes of the beings roaming the space waiting for her.

  It made me nervous.

  “Is the Priestess angry?” Kian asked, voice quiet with respect. “Troubled?”

  “She is not our Priestess,” I said absentmindedly.

  Startled, Kian turned to me, incredulous. “She wears the circlet and gives life from her fingertips. She was resurrected to fight for us. How can she not be our High Priestess?”

  Motioning for him to calm, and lower his voice, I didn’t reply, knowing the young male would hear what he needed soon.

  I watched Rae, and my suppressed worries rushed to the fore.

  The old Rae would babble irritatingly. Flit around screaming accusations, or at Breandan’s urging for caution, she’d stare, believing her damning thoughts concealed when in truth they were artlessly revealed on her expressive face.

  Her quiet contemplation was wholly out of character, therefore, deeply disturbing.

  Perhaps I can startle her into speaking.

  I sent a diminutive yet distinctive push of energy toward her.

  Mouth tensing, Rae shifted. Her restless movement increased until she flexed her back and fluttered her wings. Stretched her fingers and scrunched her toes.

  Golden spears of energy sliced through my azure swirls. Her feral power shredded mine then overwhelmed it.

  Kian shifted uneasily. Having a touch of fairy magics rigorously exercised for battle, he too perceived the magical currents.

  I readied myself to respond then realised my stupidity. How many knocks does my ego need? I shouldn’t care her display of power made mine weak in comparison. It was hubris. I released my hold on the Source. Now she knew of my desire to talk. My mouth curved with the hint of a smile. The rest of the people gathered she could dismiss, but not me.

  An ominous sensation roused my instincts. Breath quickening, my body tensed, and my skin tingled.

  Everyone stilled, and the mood turned foreboding.

  Eyes searching for a hidden enemy, Kian’s hand hovered over the hilt of the sword strapped to his back.

  I stifled a grunt of surprise when little brother stormed into view behind Rae. The longer I studied him the more certain I became my nature and the instincts of those around me reacted defensively to his presence.

  Breandan crossed his arms over his chest and shot me a sharp look. He glowed. A menacing pall soaked the space surrounding him, his aura the direct opposite to Rae’s.

  Showing my displeasure at his disrespect, my chin jutted, but my heart grew heavy with worry.

  “You watched him during the ritual?” Kian eyed Breandan as if he were poisonous. “Did something happen?”

  “I watched him.” Pausing, I admitted. “I feel it too.”

  Kian forced himself to let go of his sword. His dark eyes were suspicious as he shook back his dishevelled hair. “Another mystery. She feels like life, and he feels like–”

  “Death,” I murmured.

  Gaze cutting through the crowd, Rae looked over her shoulder. It lifted protectively and rested under her chin, revealing a streak of vulnerability that clashed with her rebellious nature. The gathered demons craved her attention, but her focus was absolute, and her eyes unerringly met mine.

  I repressed a shiver of empathy. Her eyes were screaming. Can no other perceive it?

  Needing her to pull it together, my chin lifted higher. I arched a brow in question before nodding at Breandan. In one action, I silently asked, “What are you, and what in the name of the gods is wrong with little brother?”

  Her irises gleamed as they flicked to Breandan. Love broke past the pain in her eyes then clouded with anger. Turning to me, her bearing became defiant. Scowling – as she is wont to do – her lips parted – to throw me an insult I have no doubt.

  The gathering sensed Rae about to speak. Sidling closer, their considerable attention focused on her, thickening the air with expectation.

  Veneration, I realised. The glazed look on their faces was nothing but worship.

  Breandan clasped the side of his head and made pained noise.

  Rae’s pupils dilated. Emotion was turbulent in her eyes, yet her face was serene. Her body became stone still. She gave no clue as to what concerned her.

  As one who excelled at reading body language, her composure ruffled my nature.

  She broke our stare and returned to raking the deeper shadows in the trees.

  The gathering sighed in mutual disappointment. Even Kian slumped in his armour.

  Rae’s agitated aura settled.

  Observing this, I experienced stirrings of fear. Was she scared? Upset? Disenchanted by her return? I studied her, but discovered no explanation.

  I didn’t believe what the witch said concerning their divine elevation.

  It cannot be true.

  Breandan frowned at me in question. Unable to focus for long, his eyes drifted back to Rae. The possessiveness was frightening. His behaviour worsened and grew closer to a shifter’s barbaric response during a Claiming.

  Fairy mates were precious, beloved, but the two beings were ultimately individuals. There was no dependency in the relationship between life mates, unlike other demon species. They could go years without seeing each other and remain confidant the other was faithful, a consequence of being long-lived.

  Before I lay eyes on Daphne the manner of possessiveness Breandan displayed was alien. Inconceivable. Not anymore, I’m in trouble. I understood my brother’s need to touch and soothe his mate. I felt the same, and I hadn’t declared my growing feelings for the vampire, though the emotional connection from the blood tie became increasingly difficult to ignore.

  Breandan managed to look at me, still questioning the silent communication that transpired between Rae and I. He was desperate for help. Falling towards a place of hopelessness affecting us all. Rae’s unusual responses had the gathering in a state of upheaval. Breandan’s strange behaviour would descend them into chaos.

  There would be no chance of convincing the demon leaders to stay in the Wyld to participate in another Meet if I couldn’t control my own kin. “Just as I controlled the last Meet so wonderfully.”

  Kian’s brow lifted in amusement at my mutterings.

  Do as much as you can. Prepare for the worst.

  There was no help to give. Breandan was one of few who understood what Rae said or did. Blessedly, I wasn’t part of that faction.

  No, I had no help to give interpreting her peculiarity.

  Looking away from little brother, I jerked a shoulder. I had no idea what thoughts ran through Rae’s mind. She had yet to speak a word or give a sign she was right in the head.

  Breandan’s mouth turned down at the corners, but his shoulders squared. His life mate fixed firm in his sights, he moved.
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br />   Rae stiffened. Her fingers curled under into a fist, the emotional barrier she erected creating a palpable wave of heat.

  An uneasy murmur rippled through the gathering.

  Breandan ignored her warning until close enough to touch his mate. Spinning on her heel, Rae faced him and tugged on her hair. Breandan’s face softened, and he crooked a finger. Her lips twitched, but she didn’t go to him.

  I stared at their exchange in fascination, and I wasn’t the only one.

  They held a private conversation mind to mind.

  The bond is largely unknown. Who knows how deep the connection goes?

  Jerking her pointed chin, Rae shook her head as she peered at Breandan with singular intensity.

  Kian’s eyes glimmered with awe. “She is radiant.”

  Frowning at the besotted Knight, my urge was to refute his praise. I did so. Vehement. “She is covered in scars.”

  “She remains beautiful. The scars hint at a strong character. Look how Breandan stares. I don’t think he sees them when he looks at her.” Nodding decisively, Kian inclined his head. “Blessed are the ones who find mates such as Rae.”

  I longed to protest, but I held my tongue not wanting to seem a bigger fool. Intrigued by my Knight’s insistence, I tried to see my sister from his perspective.

  Never had I thought Rae beautiful. Her character did not enrapture me as it did little brother. Her hair was too dark and wild. Much unlike Daphne’s fair braids. Her face was too plain. She didn’t have lovely freckles like the vampire. Her pouty mouth was prone to blathering nonsense. Daphne’s lips were slender. Soft. She spoke rationally after duly considering all angles as I did.

  My vampire lady was the fairest.

  And yet, for all that, something changed between Rae’s death and rebirth.

  Perhaps her vitality draws me.

  Rae’s fiery temperament grated with mine, but had undeniably amplified and transformed until she shone, and radiated power and goodness I craved to bask within.

  It was no hardship to admit meeting Rae had been a grave disappointment. Fresh from the human Temple she’d seemed weak and uninspiring. She declared herself one of their warped Disciples. The prospect of tying my life to hers had not been welcome in my heart. I would have done it because I needed her bloodline, and control of the amulets to use the grimoire and take control from Devlin. She’d been out of place, and asked to do things far beyond her emotional and physical depths. A fact she had no fear of yelling at anyone who’d listen.

  Yet she flourished and survived. Achieved what she set to do despite the doubts of people like myself. Whenever she felt afraid, she turned to Breandan, and he guided her, protected her at considerable expense. Their love grew beyond anything I comprehended.

  Has that love turned on itself?

  Was their intention to do good with the bond enough to negate the danger it posed?

  Rae made ghastly mistakes correcting a past wrong. Her methods were odd and untried, the results messy and unstable – at best. But she tries with all her heart. Did fate see it that way? Was the resurrection her reward or punishment for an attempt to fix the balance as destined?

  To hear the white witch tell of it, she’d returned a minor deity. A godling. And little brother swept into Rae’s madness by the bond was altered too? Such creatures had not walked the earth in an age. How did this power affect the balance of our world?

  “How can I call myself High Lord?” I muttered. “The most powerful of my kind when I fear if Brenadan lifts a hand to strike me I’d be no more?”

  I shook off my mangled thoughts, but they remained insistent, pushing me to find answers.

  Had I sensed this power shift in Rae before? My mind resisted the memories, but I pulled them from the depths nevertheless. There was no point denying it. I’d sensed a change in Rae when she shoved me to safety after I skewered that wretched excuse she called brother. I should have corrected the magical currents opened in the Wyld Heart. Chances I’d survive the power surging from the magical rupture were none, but it was my duty to protect the Tribe. I failed. Allowing Rae to cloud my judgement in a moment of weakness. When she mentioned Daphne waited for me, I burned inside, wanting nothing more than to live and escape into the vampire’s arms. So that’s what I did. “I am forever shamed because of it.”

  Exasperated at my mutterings, Kian looked at me pointedly. “Something you wish to discuss?”

  Too embarrassed to share my convoluted thoughts, I waved him away turning my attention back to little brother.

  Breandan took Rae into his arms and kissed her. Kissed her until my face heated.

  Kian made a choked noise. Averting his gaze, he fiddled with his tunic collar, pulling it away from his throat. His face reddened. Noticing my amusement at his reaction, he shrugged, and adjusted the straps and buckles of the scabbard across his hips.

  When Rae and Breandan drew apart a smile flitted across little brother’s face.

  My heart barely had time to lift before anger darkened Breandan’s features. His back teeth ground together, an unpleasant habit he’d possessed since a youngling, and his face twisted in frustration.

  He glared off to the side. Hissed something into the darkness.

  “Whom is he talking to?” Kian asked.

  I squinted at the seemingly vacant space Breandan directed his words. “The phantom,” I spat irate at the leech’s return on little brother’s behalf.

  “Another mystery. Breandan took his head.”

  “That was truth. He appeared within the circle after….” Words blending with a growl, I grew angry, and my healing wound ached. Wincing, I rubbed it lightly careful not to break the new skin. “The godling Marinette brought him back. I heard of phantoms before but never saw one.”

  “A ghost?”

  “Humankind has ghosts. The restless spirit of a demon becomes a phantom.”

  “Of all people why bring him back? What does she have to gain?”

  “The power of distraction.”

  Kian didn’t understand. He shrugged. “Who are these Loa? You and the older Knights know of them, but stay silent. Why do they return? Will they attack? Are we safe?”

  Questions abound and too few answers.

  Again I felt a keen desire to regain control. It was easier to stoke the fires of trust by soothing my followers with falsehoods until the threat was removed. All I have is the uncertainty of the truth.

  At my silence, Kian sighed, then brightened and pumped his fist. “Hai, Conall.”

  Pausing a headlong rush towards his sister, Conall offered a salute of respect to his brother-in-arms. He took another hurried step then remembered to execute a short bow in my direction.

  I signalled to him strongly, pulling him off course and to my side.

  Rae acted strangely, and was not in the frame of mind to deal with her Elder.

  If Breandan kisses her so ardently again, Conall is likely to do something regrettable.

  Stalling I asked, “All is well on the outskirts?”

  “Nothing is amiss.” Conall glanced over his shoulder, impatient. “You are hurt?”

  “No.” I smiled, a fake stretch of lips I persevered with until the end. “I have a hard head. See to the witch.”

  “My sister–”

  “Will be fine. Little brother is with her, and she has the protection of all you see here. Others have need of you.”

  Healing was a rare gift in a Warrior, and he only had so much strength before the good he did lessened.

  Muttering an agreement, Conall stalked off, his head turning in Rae’s direction.

  Prowling and protective, Amelia remained in her Changed form hovering over the witch’s motionless body. She let Conall pass with a low whine.

  He knelt at Ana’s side, and pulsations of magic vibrated the air as he used his healing gift.

  A wail of pain tore from Ana as she roused from a dream state into a fit. Clutching her burnt wrist she thrashed, her oval face dampened with tears and crumple
d as she failed to choke a sob.

  Conall brushed the dirty hair from her brow and chanted melodiously, tender in his handling.

  Mercifully, she drifted into unconsciousness.

  “The cost to the witch was great,” I said. “Greater than expected.”

  Impassive, Kian fingered the buckle and strap resting across his chest. “I misjudged her. Never again will I make the mistake of judging a person by kind alone.”

  Considering these wise words, I reassessed the witch’s sleeping form. “Have I been too harsh in my judgement of her? Witchcraft is a font of evil. Can good truly be derived from it?”

  “She fought the half-breed. Her father in all senses of the word.” Kian’s tight-lipped smile failed to conceal his disgust at the memory of Cael. “That is commendable.”

  “Where does her loyalty lie? What machinations does she rouse disguised as a wounded ally?”

  Kian chuckled. “You are a suspicious male.”

  Conall warned Amelia back then scooped up Ana. A tangle of hair obscured most of her features, but the hint of her eye socket appeared sunken, the curve of her cheek ashen.

  “I will take her to my dwelling.” Conall tilted his head at me in deference and request. “She must rest.”

  I nodded.

  The Warrior left with his injured charge, casting a stare of longing at his sister.

  I wondered if intervening in their reunion avoided Conall suffering, or if it delayed the inevitable.

  “You think it safe?” Kian asked. “My confidence in our ability to thwart any scheming fuelled by witch is undecided. I misjudged her, but that is not to say she is incapable of mischief.”

  “Caution is best. I do not enjoy outsiders roaming the Wyld freely, but what else am I to do?” Knights fell under Cael’s attack. A score of the less steadfast warriors left to seek kin in the Wyld closer to the sea. “There are no spare Knights to allocate as her guard. Where is the sense in segregating a dangerous outsider when there are scarcely insiders left?” I rule a Wyld with nothing but a scattering of tribesmen to oversee. I rubbed my temple, the stabbing pains growing worse by the minute. “It is better if the witch rests close whilst I calm those who still look to me.”

 

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