by Leigh Kelsey
Finn spun me to face him, his hands settling on my waist and his eyes, earnestly pained now, fixing on my own. “We have the support of the Last House. I have experience in fighting skilled, powerful enemies. And Oisìn was trained by the man we’ll face. It’s not hopeless, Elara. We have a chance.”
A bleak chance. I didn’t say that aloud though. “He wants you dead. He’s probably furious I got away from him. And Oisìn … he’ll hurt him. To punish him. And he’ll break his mind again, break him back into the person he wants him to be.” I looked Finn in the eye, my heart aching so badly it must be in pieces. “I’d rather die than let him take Oisìn again. I’d rather die than let him hurt you or Allen or my mum, or anyone else I love. I don’t think I can take it, Finn.” My voice broke. “I can’t take any more.”
He sighed, a sad, sorrowful sound, and gathered me into his arms. I let my head fall on his shoulder, gripping his shirt hard enough to rip it. “It’s too much,” he said, stroking my hair. “It’s too soon after you were changed, you’re not used to this new way of feeling yet. You haven’t even had time to adjust to feeding, or being dead.”
“What choice do I have?” I whispered, a sob catching in the middle.
He pulled back, framing my face with his calloused fingers. “We could run.”
I laughed.
“I mean it,” he said, holding my eyes. “We could run away tonight and keep running.”
I swallowed the emotion in my throat, a tear slipping from my eye. “When could we stop? When could we stop running? A year? A hundred years?” One look at his face and I knew. “Never.”
“We wouldn’t have to fight,” he said, stroking my cheek with his thumb. “You’d have time to learn, and adjust, and grow into the incredible vampire I know you’ll be if given time.” He laughed, a mournful sort of laugh. “As if you aren’t already.”
“Finn,” I said. “I don’t know if I can do this. It was different when we thought Harrington had Rosa. If I hadn’t fought then, I’d have lost Oisìn—” But wasn’t my answer there? If I didn’t fight, if I didn’t defend us, I’d lose them all. And that was who I was. Even if fighting was the last thing on earth I wanted to do, if someone I loved was threatened, I’d dress in armour and drag myself onto the battlefield.
Finn read my resolve in my eyes.
“I still don’t think we’ll survive,” I confessed. “Even knowing nothing about faerie magic. Just being near Fear Doirche terrified me, paralysed me. If I had to face him … I don’t think I could do it. I’d be too scared.”
“You could.” He pressed a warm kiss to my forehead. “Don’t underestimate yourself.” He sighed, a sound becoming far too familiar to me lately. “I’m scared too, Ellie. I’m so fucking scared. I can’t imagine losing Allen. The thought of it—”
He shook his head, and went on as if he hadn’t spoken what was clearly his biggest fear. “Losing Oisìn again, permanently this time, would wreck me. And losing you … you’re the first light that’s come into my life since Allen. You have this impossible ability of making me feel hopeful, of drawing out a good mood from me. And what’s even more unexpected is the comfort you give me.”
He kissed my hair again, as if he couldn’t help himself, then tucked my head under his chin. “You’re bright, and compassionate, and full of so much love and fierceness that I can’t stand the thought of your light going out. Now I’ve known you, I know my life would be painfully empty if I lost you.” He held me tighter. “I love you, Elara, so you’re not the only one scared.”
I tipped my head back to look at him, then leant up to kiss him. It was the gentlest, most melancholy kiss I’d ever had. “I love you too,” I said. “And we can’t run. Allen would never let us, and Scarlett … we need to be here. In case she comes back.”
“She will,” Finn replied, his voice a touch less despairing. “Even if it’s just at the end, she will. She’s family; she won’t abandon us if we need her.”
I wasn’t so sure. “She hit me over the head. With a candelabra. And she stole Oisìn while I was passed out—” My throat tightened and cut off my words. Finn paled, rubbing my back to comfort me. “I went so cold, Finn. I’d never felt like that before. I still don’t understand why I did, but I … I couldn’t stop. Not until I found him.”
Finn stilled for a second before resuming rubbing up and down my spine. “I’m not saying we’ll forgive her,” he said gently. “I don’t know if she deserves that. But we’ll need her.”
“I know.”
“And she’ll come.”
I bit my lip, nodding. Whatever was between me and Scarlett was a bitter knot, but in the process of talking, my bond to Finn had strengthened. I wanted to bring up Sadhbh but I didn’t want to shatter the ease with which he was speaking now. Instead I glanced over my shoulder at the kitchen door, the windows of the house. At least this was safe, within Rita’s shield.
I paused, turning back to him. “Finn, could we get the witches help?” The uncomfortable look on his face told me a lot. “You’ve already asked. Did they say no?”
“All but three,” he replied, and my eyes brightened. That was more than I’d expected.
“We’ve managed to protect the house with just Rita’s help. Two other witches must be able to help us.”
Help us protect ourselves. Help us defeat the hunters Fear Doirche would send our way, likely first to weaken us. I paused at that thought. Clearly I’d been spending too much time talking to my vampire warrior; his strategy and training had begun to rub off on me.
“If Scarlett comes,” I said, my mind spinning around an idea. “She’ll bring Janna. They, along with the witches and whoever comes from the Last House, could probably fight the hunters.”
Finn raised a blond eyebrow. “Leaving us to defeat Fear Doirche?”
“You, me, Allen, and Oisìn.” I paused, turning over my thoughts to whittle them into a simple explanation. “We’re stronger together, because there’s love between us, holding us together. We’re together because we want to be, because we choose to be, unlike Fear Doirche’s hunters and the rest of his vampires. They’re there because he’s tricked them, or trapped them, or threatened them. Love has to be stronger than that. I know it is.”
“And that gives us the advantage?” Finn sounded dubious.
“Yes,” I said fiercely, aware I sounded a bit like a new age hippie waxing poetic about the power of love and peace. “Yes, Finn. Will the hunters go as far as absolutely possible, risk their lives and everything else they have, to save each other? When it comes down to it, will they do anything in their power to save each other, to save Fear Doirche? No.”
“But we will,” he finished, understanding.
“We’ll do whatever it takes, and that makes us stronger.”
Finn’s smile started small but bloomed to a grin. “This is exactly what I meant when I said you give me hope. My little ray of light.”
“Not so little,” I groused, but only half-heartedly. I rose onto my tiptoes to kiss him; to be fair compared to him and Oisìn I was short. But that was mostly because they were massive, tall enough to be basketball players. “It’s not my fault you Mac Cumhaill men are giant freaks of nature.”
Finn laughed loudly, his eyes lighting up in crushing blue. It made my heart soar to see him looking so carefree, even if for a second. So happy. And I’d done that. Warmth spilled through my chest, easing a knot around my heart. This—this was why we’d fight like mad, why we wouldn’t stop until either Fear Doirche’s warriors were dead or we were.
Fear Doirche had ageless power on his side, and hunters trained specifically to kill vampires like me. He had experience and cunning and the black capacity to do whatever it took to win. But he didn’t have true loyalty, true bonds and ties, like we did in this family. And I had to believe that would save us.
I had to.
ACHE
It was literally painful to listen to Oisìn talk about his past, telling cold stories of his upbringing and tr
aining and his life as a vampire hunter under Fear Doirche. Worse to hear his quick, brutal account of leading vampires in hunts and attacks under Fear Doirche’s command. His eyes turned bleak, and I felt the self-hatred rise in him but it wasn’t until later that I figured out why, put it together from snippets he’d let slip these past few days. The vampires that had washed into the bay—the bodies, not the coffins—those had been vampires loyal to Oisìn. And Fear Doirche had killed them, or had them killed, either as punishment or so they couldn’t help us. And that would haunt Oisìn for a long time, I knew—that he couldn’t keep them safe, that he’d walked away.
By the time the sun had set, we’d fed, and I was ready for bed, an ache had returned behind my ribcage. It was still there when I showered and curled up in bed, and when Oisìn padded into my room an hour later and folded his still-too-thin body around me.
I fell asleep afraid to lose everyone I loved, and woke up with that ache still there, the remnants of a dream clinging to my mind. I’d lost all of them in my sleep, and even waking up to find Oisìn still here didn’t soothe the pain. It looked like it was here to stay.
I knew Scarlett had done this to me, that her betrayal and complete disregard of our love had splintered something in my heart. Every time I thought of her the pain dug deeper. How could she have done this to us? To me? She knew—she knew Oisìn was under my care, and by the time she knocked me out and dragged him to the pocket world, she knew I cared about him. And still she did it. Still she pushed me to my breaking point, so far that that cold rush of wind had filled me.
I understood that she loved Janna, and she’d done everything she had because of it—working for Harrington, a psychopathic hunter, playing his creepy nursery rhyme warnings from speakers, threatening Oisìn’s best friend to make him return to Fear Doirche. That friend had turned out to be a stone-cold bitch, and she’d killed Abriana herself and pretended to be kidnapped just to twist Oisìn into crawling back to the man he viewed as his master. But at least I understood why she’d done it. She was cold and logical—pragmatic. It’s just business, she’d said. She was just following orders.
But Scarlett? Much as I knew she’d done everything she had, turned against her family the way she had, to protect Janna, the one thing I couldn’t understand, may never forgive, was why she hadn’t told us. The second Janna’s life was endangered, she should have come to us. We would have done everything in our power to get Janna back safely, the way we had when we thought Rosa was in trouble. We were Scarlett’s family—we would have helped her, moved heaven and fucking earth to help her save the woman she loved.
Instead she kept secrets, let them fester between us, and pushed us away. And as well as forming cracks in our family bonds, she’d wrecked something inside me. Scarlett was the first vampire I’d had sex with, a woman I thought was as caring as she was thorny. It turned out she loved more than I ever thought she would—enough to risk losing her whole family for Janna. That was a love story in itself, but I still couldn’t forgive her.
We owed Janna. Had she forgotten that? Had the fact that we’d been forced to leave Finn behind with Fear Doirche already slipped her mind? Had she forgotten that we were terrified he was dead, until Janna marched into that abbey and got him out, got him back to us? We owed Janna—and we loved Scarlett. There’s no way we’d have ignored a danger to Janna’s life.
“Hey,” Allen said, startling me from my painful thoughts. I’d slipped out of bed and wandered downstairs without really paying attention. “What’s wrong?”
He got off the sofa he’d been lounging on and crossed the room to bind me up in one of his bear hugs. I sagged, my head falling against his broad chest, and before I could trap it, a sob burst out of me.
Allen held me tighter, tight concern in his voice. “Elara?”
“I’m alright,” I said between sobs. I obviously wasn’t, but I couldn’t help denying it.
“No, you’re not,” he replied gently, and scooped me up into his arms. I jumped a bit as he sat back on the sofa, pulling me against his chest so he could hold me securely. The touch against my whole body should have stopped the crying, but when it pierced that void where my soul used to me, I only cried harder.
“It’s alright,” he soothed, stroking my arms. “It’s alright, Elara. Whatever it is, we’re here. I’m here.” He echoed his statement by kissing the top of my head.
“How could she—do this to us?” I asked brokenly, the ache in my chest growing.
“Oh, Elara,” Allen breathed, pulling me even closer until I aligned with him perfectly, my legs around his waist. My breathing hitched, tears rolling down my too-hot, too-tight face. They were slowing though; I could tell because my eyes were starting to feel sore and gritty. “I don’t know,” he said, and there was such pain in his voice that I wrapped my arms around his neck and laid a kiss against his cheek, the urge to comfort him as strong as the need to be comforted myself.
“I don’t know,” he said again, pressing his face to the side of my neck. “She loves so strongly,” he whispered. “Too strongly, maybe. Now she has Janna safe, but she’s lost all of us.” He paused, skimming my arms with his warm, broad hands. “She must be hurting too.”
I knew that. But I didn’t want to think about it. I selfishly wanted to ignore her pain and focus on my own. Blaming her … it came naturally, but also it gave my hurt a distraction. It was easier to be angry than heartbroken. “I don’t care,” I breathed.
Allen kissed the pulse in my throat. “I don’t believe you.”
I grunted, pressing my lips together. The tears had stopped, and now the pain was easing. Allen’s touch was finally penetrating the wall of hurt inside me. I felt the comfort ease through my body, unwinding the knot in my chest, relaxing my breathing, massaging my muscles until I fell limp against him.
LOVE
“Thank you,” I breathed.
Allen pulled back to look at my face, tracing my jaw with a thumb. “We comfort each other, Elara. It’s a two-way bond.”
I smiled, but that word bond triggered something in my mind. “Allen, do you … I mean—” I swallowed and just spat it out, averting my eyes. “Finn’s your sire, right? Your creator? Does that … connect you?”
“Yes,” he answered with a puzzled smile, still stroking my jaw before understanding lit his amber-brown eyes. “Oisìn?”
I just nodded.
“It can’t control your feelings if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“It’s not,” I rushed out.
He nodded, watching me. “It just means you can always find each other, you sense when the other’s in danger, and it heightens any emotion that’s already between you. Loyalty, respect, bitterness, repulsion. Whatever is there, the bond strengthens it.”
“So, with you and Finn…” I was prying, and by the wry tilt of his eyebrow he knew, but he still answered.
“Respect, affection, and love,” he said. “Fear for him being hurt, anger that he’s suffered so long, worry that one day it will be too much for him.”
I nodded, smiling sadly. “I worry about the same thing.”
He pulled my face to his and brushed my lips with a slow kiss that had my body spiking with heat. “He’s a stubborn, protective old man,” he said fondly. “We’ll both have to protect him.”
“Don’t encourage him with the old thing,” I laughed. “He uses that to get his way.”
“Oh, I know,” Allen said easily, a smile splitting his handsome face. “And it works. Every single time.”
The smile stayed on my face, spreading, and before I knew what I was saying I breathed, “I love him.”
“I know,” Allen replied, his eyes softening as his hand spread across my hip, caressing gently. “I do, too. It’s impossible not to when you know him.”
I nodded, relief so profound catching my breath. Despite knowing Allen was okay with Finn and I having sex, even encouraging it, I’d worried he’d be upset or threatened by me loving him. I’d worried he
might cut me out, consciously or not. But looking at that gentle understanding and affection in his eyes, my doubts dissolved.
“I love you, as well,” I whispered, my stomach flopping with nerves. I looked past him, at the rest of the living room and the sea visible through the glass panes on the door.
Allen’s hands wandered, one going into my hair and sending tingles through me and the other sliding to squeeze my thigh. I dared to look back at him, aware of my body becoming more sensitive, on high alert for every one of his touches. “I love you too,” he said when I finally screwed up the courage to meet his eyes.
My stomach flipped, lively butterflies dancing around inside it. I grinned and he grinned back, his eyes lit up in a way I rarely saw. I kissed him first this time, moving my lips up the bronze column of his throat, along his jaw, before I captured his mouth. Allen’s low groan as we kissed and touched changed the mood, flipped a switch inside me that had me heating up, my breath coming shorter.
“Allen?” I gasped, inhaling desperate breaths between kisses.
“Yes,” he said instantly.
“Here?”
“Yes.”
“Um.” I’d felt the eyes on the back of my neck for the past five minutes, his concern something I could physically sense. I leaned forward to whisper in Allen’s ear, “Oisìn is watching us.”
“Hmm.” Allen tapped his lip, pretending to mull it over. “How about we let him watch?” I’d never seen this flirtatious side of him before. “Or better yet,” he whispered over the shell of my ear, “let him come play.”
My mouth went dry.
BOTH
I’d never been with two people at the same time. Never. Yet when Allen suggested it … I wanted it. Really really wanted it. I didn’t want to exclude Oisìn, to force him to watch when I knew it could hurt him, make him feel left out on purpose. But also … I kind of wanted both their attention, both their hands, their mouths, on me.