Scion of the Sun

by Nicola Marsh

“Ground yourself. Concentrate. Think.”

  Ground yourself.

  In an instant I knew. But where was I supposed to find a black obsidian now? Unless I could manufacture obsidian in the next thirty seconds, our eardrums would burst.

  I focused on Bel’s fire and wished like I’d never wished before. All of those wasted wishes for the tooth fairy to leave dollars rather than cents, for Santa to bring books rather than more scarves, for the Easter Bunny to hide chocolate and not hideous carob, I’d take them back in a heartbeat if this one wish could come true.

  Bel, help me, tell me what to do.

  As the flame flickered, it cast a shadow on the ground, over a flat, dark rock. …

  “That’s it!” Startling Joss, I dropped to my knees, snatched up the rock, and examined it closely. It didn’t resemble the obsidian I’d used back at school, but it would have to do.

  I had to try it, had to try something. Clutching the stone in my left hand, I faced the banshee, trying not to flinch as those crimson eyes staring straight at me glowed with malevolence.

  Invoking the grounding spell, I pressed a fingertip to my forehead while aiming the rock at the ground, effectively closing my third eye while visualizing the banshee trapped underground, surrounded by darkness, as far from the light as possible.

  The harder I concentrated, the more the agony eased. The banshee faded, her stumps-for-hands reaching toward me, clutching at air, her wail increasing in pitch and volume until we fell to our knees. Though I wanted to look away, I couldn’t, mesmerized by those gleaming red eyes, my forehead and palm holding the rock pulsing with heat. When I thought I couldn’t bear the shrieks any longer, the banshee vanished.

  “Holly, you okay?”

  Joss helped me to my feet, the sudden silence a welcome relief from the wailing, but strangely eerie.

  “Yeah, fine,” I said, though my voice shook.

  Mack touched my arm, his expression dazed. “How did you—”

  “She’s a fully fledged member of the Sorority now, that’s how,” Maeve said, hugging me tight.

  “Yeah, if ever we had doubts before, guess you put those to rest. That’s another task mastered.” Oscar nodded, pensive, sizing me up. “What did you do?”

  How did I explain something I didn’t fully understand? “I grounded myself with black obsidian, then visualized the banshee back underground.”

  Mack and Maeve beamed like proud parents while Oscar frowned. “You’ve practiced with black obsidian before?”

  “A little.” Tired of his condescension, especially after I’d done so well, I squared my shoulders. “I used a trans-channeling crystal for the first time last night too.”

  “You used a trans-channeling crystal?” Oscar’s sneer made me bristle. “No way. You’re new to this. You can’t be that powerful.”

  “She is.” Joss’s clipped tone didn’t invite further argument. Mack and Maeve studied me with renewed interest.

  “Is anyone going to tell me what that thing was, apart from one of the lesser creatures of the Underworld I had to face and banish?”

  I didn’t imagine the long pause before Joss nodded.

  “Banshees are female spirits who are usually attached to a specific family.” Joss paused and glanced at Mack, whose grave expression gave me the creeps.

  “Come on, guys, I need to know what I just faced off in case it comes back.”

  Joss entwined his fingers with mine in such a way the others couldn’t see, his simple touch giving me instant comfort.

  “Okay.” Mack nodded. “You saw the red eyes?”

  Hell yeah, I’d seen them. I thought back to meeting Drake on the first day at C.U.L.T. what seemed like an eternity ago, and how the flicker of crimson in his creepy eyes had spooked me. The banshee made Drake look like an innocent kid.

  “Uh-huh.”

  “That’s from weeping.”

  “So she’s a big crybaby. I can deal with that.”

  Nobody laughed, not even a ghost of a smile, and Joss squeezed my hand, his grave expression sending a shiver of foreboding through me despite the reassuring grip.

  “A banshee voices her anguish when a death is imminent.”

  Terror choked me as I deciphered what he’d just said. “You mean—”

  “When a member of that family is near death.”

  Mack, Maeve, and Oscar couldn’t meet my eye; only Joss could, as brave, stoic, and supportive as ever. But for a split second, I saw the fear lurking behind his beautiful blues. Somehow that one glimpse of my warrior’s vulnerability scared me more than the rest put together.

  “So someone in my family is going to die?”

  The last word dripped off my tongue like acid. Maeve sucked in her bottom lip and bit down on it.

  “It’s just part of an old legend,” Joss said, his lack of conviction emphasized by the others’ silence. He slid an arm around my waist and held on tight while my shaking eased.

  Joss was wrong.

  That banshee meant business.

  I didn’t believe in coincidences, didn’t believe in random acts. Of all the lesser Underworld creatures I had to face, this banshee had appeared at this point in time for a reason.

  As a warning.

  To scare the crap out of me.

  It had worked. No matter how much Joss tried to placate me, one word echoed through my head.

  Death.

  My first thought was Nan, wasting away in that hospital bed, non-responsive, a shadow of the woman I knew and loved. Losing her would gut me. I didn’t want it to be Nan.

  What if it wasn’t?

  Did the banshee transforming into an image of Mom mean she would die? While I didn’t feel the same ripping loss at the thought, I didn’t want her to die. Not at the hands of Cadifor, and certainly not before I’d gotten my answers. Did that make me heartless? Maybe, but I wasn’t the one who ran out on my daughter when she was a baby.

  The last option was too creepy to contemplate.

  As I raised my stricken gaze to Joss, the possibility too hideous to acknowledge, I saw the same thought lurking in the shadows of his expressive eyes.

  What if the person in the Burton family about to die was me?

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  As I accepted my second pewter tankard of mulled apple cider and raised it in a group cheer, I glanced around at the glowing faces, the genuinely happy smiles, the revelers dancing to lively jigs. I’d never been to a celebration like it. Huge banquet tables were covered in fruits and vegetables; flower garlands were strung up between the trees. Musicians strolled through the crowd, and children squealed in delight as they bobbed for apples. Everyone was smiling, chatting, laughing, and dancing.

  As hard as I tried to join in and enjoy my first Beltane, I couldn’t shake the residual bleakness from the banshee and what she represented.

  “Guess who?”

  I didn’t need to guess. The moment Joss came up behind me, I felt his body warmth. The urge to turn and bury my face in his chest was overwhelming.

  “RPatz?”

  I swung around in time to see him try a mock frown. “Who?”

  “Everyone in the entire universe knows who RPatz is. Robert Pattinson? Edward? Twilight movies? Hello?”

  The corners of his mouth kicked up. “You know all that vampire stuff is nonsense, right? Underworld creatures, including the undead, aren’t heroic or vegetarian.” My urge to tease faded at the mention of the undead, and he winced. “Sorry. I’m sure the banshee’s still fresh in your mind.”

  I nodded. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m stoked I sent the screamer packing, but that whole death in the family prophecy? A real dampener.”

  “It’s a legend, and many legends are hearsay.”

  “Arwen’s a legend, but you guys seem to take that one pretty seriously.”

  For once, Joss didn’t have an instant comeback.

  “And speaking of sending the banshee away, what’s Oscar’s problem? Even when I get stuff right, nothing seems to pleas
e him.”

  An expression I couldn’t decipher flitted across Joss’s face, part guilt, part regret, before he rubbed a hand over it and pinned me with a speculative stare. “You really want to know?”

  “Know what?”

  He sighed and propped himself against a tree trunk, arms folded, casual and sexy at the same time. “Oscar wanted to protect you.”

  “Protect me how?”

  “By being your warrior.”

  Confused, I rubbed my forearms to ease the foreboding slinking under my skin. “But you’re my warrior. If we’re bound, how can he muscle in on your turf?”

  Darkness clouded his eyes as that prickle increased tenfold. “Challenges occur within warrior circles. Oscar challenged me for the honor of protecting the Scion. I won.”

  Joss wasn’t telling me everything. I could see it in his clenched jaw, his rigid shoulders, his nervous fingers absentmindedly shredding bark off the tree.

  Before I could question him further, he captured my hand. “Let’s get out of here.”

  As a distraction technique, it worked. Having my hand encased within his—strong, warm, solid—I didn’t need to be asked twice.

  Holding hands, we eased through the crowd, strolling toward the ash grove furthest away. We didn’t speak as we picked our way through the grove, watching our step, but it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence. Plenty of time for questions later. For now, I was enjoying the stolen pleasure of having him hold my hand.

  When the trees grew so thick we couldn’t go farther, he stopped and placed both his hands on my waist. “You were brooding back there rather than enjoying yourself.”

  Not wanting to bring up Oscar again and shatter the mood, I let the conversation flow his way for now. “I was having a good time.” He raised an eyebrow and I shrugged. “Mostly.”

  “Forget the banshee. There are countless druid legends that never come true.”

  Don’t think about how the banshee looked like Mom … don’t think about it …

  His hands gripped me tighter, digging into my hips. “The banshee looked like your mom?”

  Oops, too late.

  “Yeah.”

  He frowned. “Is that what has you so spooked?”

  “That and the fact I have to face off with Cadifor next month, find Arwen before then, and maybe face the death of someone I care about.”

  Maybe even me.

  It came out a mental whimper, a fleeting thought he couldn’t possibly have picked up on.

  His hands slid all the way around my waist, pulling me almost flush against him. “Don’t even think it.”

  Think? Who could possibly think when pressed against his hard body with my hands resting helplessly against his chest, itching to slide up and pull his head down toward me?

  Momentary insanity was my only plea for thinking like that; of course he’d know what a pathetic pining loser I was and release me like he had the last time we’d gotten this close. It didn’t happen, and when I finally had the guts to glance up, the hunger in his eyes had my lips parting in a surprised O.

  This time, there was no prolonged moment of exquisite torturous anticipation, no time for second-guessing. This time, we went for broke.

  Our lips met in a clash of pure, unadulterated heat. An explosion of longing and of soul-deep need burst over me. I wondered how I could’ve denied myself this incredible feeling for so long. Were all kisses like this? Or was I just so naïve, so new at this, it felt like the greatest thing in the world?

  As the kiss deepened, I couldn’t breathe, my mouth consumed by his, my nose pressed against his cheek, but I didn’t care. I didn’t care about anything but how warm and firm his lips were, how his tongue touching mine set fire to the pit of my stomach, how my skin tingled where it pressed against his chest.

  I had no idea how long we kissed for, our mouths fused despite the small shifts in posture, the slight angling of our heads for better positioning. There was no embarrassing clash of teeth or noses as I’d envisioned my first kiss to have, only the sublime pleasure turning my bones to mush as I sagged against him.

  A glorious eternity later we eased back, our lips lingering, reluctant to part.

  “Wow,” I murmured, savoring the moment, my forehead resting on his.

  When he didn’t answer, my heart sank. Our exquisite moment was over, and it was time for the “this can never happen again” speech I just knew he had rehearsed for moments like this. I could tell by his expression I wasn’t far off the mark, so I scrabbled for something to say, something to preempt the inevitable brushoff.

  “Been a big day. We got carried away; no big deal, right?” I braced myself for the worst.

  When he finally spoke, he said the last thing I expected to hear.

  “That was freaking unbelievable.”

  No, what was unbelievable was the stunned incredulity making his eyes so wide I could’ve drowned in those endless blue pools.

  Blah, where was I getting this corny crap? One kiss and I’d turned into a … a … cheerleader!

  I used to hate hearing their drivel, fawning over boys, rehashing in great detail every single kiss, makeout session, and beyond. I’d always wanted to block my ears and shout “la la la.” Now that I knew the euphoria, I wanted to shout out to the world myself.

  Hey, listen up, I kissed the hottest guy on the planet … and he liked it!

  As the silence stretched awkwardly, I blurted the first thing that came into my head. “Let me guess, you enjoyed it, but we can’t kiss again because there’s a rule against warriors fraternizing with their charges and—”

  “There’s no rule,” he said, dragging a hand through his hair, leaving it sexily mussed. I only just caught his muttered, “Maybe there should be.”

  Unable to get a read on him, I tried a joke. “Why? Because I’m too much of a distraction?”

  “That too,” he said, his expression surprisingly grim.

  “Apparently the warrior geis is more than protective.”

  This time he shuffled his feet, appearing embarrassed. “Warriors often bind for life with the chosen one they protect.”

  “You mean?” I waved a hand between us. “We’re soulmates?”

  Soulmates was too heavy, too romantic. I’d settle for girlfriend/boyfriend, considering I’d never had a relationship before.

  “No.”

  “Either we are or we aren’t.” I injected false pep into my voice to hide that he was confusing the hell out of me.

  “We can’t be.”

  He spoke so softly I thought I’d misheard, and my heart felt like it plummeted all the way to my shoes.

  He stared at my lips and I swear it was like he’d reached out and touched them. “It’s not you, it’s me—”

  “You’re giving me some lame line? What the—”

  “Because we’re not really bonded!” His eyes blazed with a fierceness that snatched my breath away. I took a step back, stumbled into the nearest tree.

  “What’s going on, Joss?”

  I half expected him to clam up or give me the brushoff, but the moment he raised his stricken eyes to mine, I knew the truth would be far worse than any lie he could’ve told me.

  “We’re not bonded because I’m not your warrior.” Pinching the bridge of his nose, he spat out, “I got the job by default.”

  I sank onto a log, my knees shaky as I waited for him to continue.

  “Olwydd, your destined warrior, used to train with me. There was an accident … ” He started pacing, as if trying to outrun his demons. “Nothing serious, a flesh wound by my sword, but Olly disappeared after that and people blamed me.”

  Stunned by his admission, I watched him pick up the pace, scuffing through debris littering the forest floor.

  “Not being a warrior by birth is bad enough without the constant cloud of another warrior’s ‘disappearance under mysterious circumstances’ hanging over my head. So I volunteered to protect you, fought Oscar for the honor, to prove I’m blameless in Olly’s dis
appearance. But … ”

  He stopped and pinned me with a glare that begged for forgiveness I wasn’t ready to give. “People have suggested I got rid of Olly to claim the prestigious job of protecting the Scion. But that’s not why I did it. You have to believe me.”

  I clenched my hands into fists and shoved them into my pockets to stop from thumping him. He’d lied to me. About everything. The one guy who I’d trusted with my life since I’d started on this whole crazy quest turned out to be a phony. Crap. Was any of this real?

  “You were right about me earning my stripes. After my previous ‘misdemeanor’ with Olly, I basically got this assignment because they think I’m guaranteed to fail and they can get rid of the troublemaker forever. But they’re wrong.” He waved a hand between the two of us. “You and me? We’re going to kick serious ass. Initially, I resented you, or resented this assignment, because I had to do a great job or else. But then I met you … ”

  “And what? You fell for my many charms?” Seething, I leaped to my feet. “Cut the crap, Joss. I’m nothing more than a means to an end. You do a good job protecting me, you get to stick around in your precious Eiros. So don’t make this any worse by implying you actually care about me.”

  “I do—”

  “Bull!” I wanted to hit him, to jab at him, to make him hurt half as much as he’d hurt me with his lies. “Let me guess, that kiss was a distraction technique, right? Because I was getting too close to the truth asking questions about Oscar and why you challenged him to protect me?”

  “That kiss was real,” he said, his shoulders slumped. “It shouldn’t have happened, but it was real.” Some of the fight drained out of me as I belatedly realized some good had come out of this disaster. I now knew the truth, and nothing would stop me from finding Arwen, defeating Cadifor, and getting the hell out of Eiros permanently. I planted my hands on my hips. “Tell me this. Are you properly equipped to protect me?”

  He staggered as if I’d hit him. “My skills as a warrior are not in question. I’ll do whatever it takes to ensure your safety. You have my word.”

  Like that means much.

  He chose that moment to read my mind and he straightened to his full height, his posture proud. “I mean it, Holly. Whatever it takes.”