Suddenly, the lights blinked out and Marisol realized she had been right all along—something was watching her. She heard the breaking of twigs and branches as whatever it was scurried away like it had been caught doing something mischievous. By the noise it made, the thing with the red eyes seemed to be headed for the blackness of a grove of trees growing between the fortress-like wall of the inn and the beach, just south of the stone steps.
If it was an animal, it sounded big. A raccoon? No, she had seen raccoons around before. They were rare in Newcastle Beach and they were generally stealthier. A raccoon would not have made that kind of noise going through bushes. And raccoon eyes don’t glow red. With this realization, she stood up and backed away, instinctively trying to put some distance between herself and the hedge.
“What’s wrong?” Monroe asked. Marisol jumped—she hadn’t even noticed that Monroe had sat down beside her.
“I saw something—there was something in the bushes.” Marisol pointed. “It went into the trees.”
“What was it?” Monroe rose to her feet as well. She brushed her dark, curly bangs away from her face, and then shielded her eyes from the glare of the firelight and peered into the dark grove.
“Some kind of…” Marisol hesitated, searching for the correct word. “…creature. It looked like it had glowing red eyes.” She shivered again.
Michal and her adoring fan Joe came over to see what Marisol was pointing at.
“What’s going on?” Joe asked, adjusting the collar of his polo and flashing a cocky grin. He was a nice-looking guy; broad-shouldered and clean-cut, his strawberry-blond hair kept short and neat. A little too preppy for Marisol’s tastes, but Michal’s parents would probably adore him, especially if he joined them to play tennis at the inn.
“Marisol thought she saw some kind of weird creature in the bushes,” Monroe explained. Her brown eyes were wide with curiosity as she scanned the trees.
“An animal? Hmm, I’ll check it out,” Joe said, his voice cavalier. He started to walk toward the bushes.
“No—don’t!” Marisol said, grabbing Joe’s arm to stop him. “I don’t think it was a regular kind of animal. It was big—really big. It made a lot of noise as it went into the trees over there. And it had these evil red eyes.”
“Evil red eyes?” Michal asked, incredulous, crossing her arms. “Are you serious? Come on, Marisol.” She laughed. Joe and Monroe joined her.
Marisol didn’t. She was very afraid, and she didn’t know why. She didn’t even attempt to hide it.
“Don’t worry, Marisol,” Joe consoled her, patting her hand as he pried his arm from her grasp. “There’s nothing to be afraid of.”
His tone sounded patronizing, but Marisol could see by the expression on his face that he didn’t say it to be unkind. He was being sincere. That—and he really wanted to impress Michal. Apparently this was an attempt at chivalry.
“Just you wait,” Joe said. “You’ll laugh when I return with some hyper, drooling puppy on my heels. I’m kind of an animal whisperer.” He winked and gave Michal a quick peck on the cheek. “Be right back.” He strode confidently into the grove of trees, vanishing into the blackness.
The goodbyes at the portal were solemn. David, Abby, Jon, and Cael each wore thick leather armor and carried a silver sword.
Abby shifted in her armor. The leg coverings fit well, but her chest plate felt a bit awkward; it was a size too large and built for a man’s frame. It wasn’t too heavy yet, but she sensed that she would have to build up her strength were she to wear it for any length of time, or she’d tire quickly.
Eulalia and Nysa came to see them off, along with a small group of soldiers reporting for duty to relieve their comrades standing guard at the floor-to-ceiling gilded mirror portal.
Eulalia embraced Cael. “Come back soon,” she whispered with tears in her eyes.
“I will,” he replied stoically.
Abby wondered how he felt about the fact that he would be away from Eulalia yet again. Hopefully they would all be back before the night was over.
Eulalia gave Jon a polite hug, and then laughed at herself as she pulled David and Abby together into a more affectionate and clumsy one.
Nysa, usually bubbling over with joy and laughter, was uncharacteristically quiet. By the frightened look on the tiny nixie’s face, Abby sensed Nysa was remembering being attacked and was worried for their safety.
Abby felt a flash of guilt. If not for her, Nysa never would have taken the silver hand mirror from Cael’s leather satchel and Lucia never would have gotten her hands on it to free Tierney. It wasn’t Abby’s fault, but still—she felt responsible for the nixie.
Nysa had about a hundred years on Abby’s eighteen, but she was an innocent. In faery years, Nysa was still a child, and she could not have foreseen the consequences of her actions. Nysa had only been trying to help, but the nixie had almost died, all because she was trying to protect Abby. The whole debacle had almost gone down like a Greek tragedy.
The thought that the Kruorumbrae would attack someone like Nysa underscored their ruthlessness. The Shadows were evil, pure and simple, with nada in the department of redeeming qualities. And if Nysa had been vulnerable, what would the creatures do to Abby’s little brother? Her parents? She had to get to her family before the Kruorumbrae did and bring them to safety in this world. If she had to battle a whole army of Shadows in the process, so be it.
Walking through the portal was akin to being smushed through Jell-O, but without the mess. The glossy surface of the mirror gave way to a gelatinous substance, which sucked gently at their bodies, requiring some effort for those unpracticed in traveling between worlds.
Abby cautiously emerged through the mirror on the other side, preceded by Cael, Jon, and David. The mirrored hall they entered was empty and unnervingly quiet. There was absolutely no sound—no night insects chirping or flapping velvet wings, not even the movement of air. Nobody spoke. The air in the room felt stagnant and heavy. Abby was tense—she felt an oppressive weight on her shoulders, diminishing her resolve to fight. It was difficult to breathe.
She looked around the room, remembering the last time she was there, surrounded by hordes of hungry goblin-like Kruorumbrae, who favored the form of ink-black shadow cats with frighteningly wide, toothy smiles. She couldn’t help but relive the moment when Calder launched himself at David, and she’d pushed him through the portal a mere instant before the beast was on top of her. The image was burned in her memory. She remembered slicing pain as his talons ripped her stomach open, the weight of him crushing the air from her lungs, the sulfuric smell of his breath. After that, her memories faded, blocked by the pain. Maybe that was for the best. Perhaps it was her body’s way of dealing with extreme trauma. She prayed that history would not repeat itself.
Once inside the dark mass of trees, Joe heard a number of scurrying sounds. It was difficult to tell where the noise was coming from—maybe there was more than one dog. He crouched down and whistled, trying to peer into the dark undergrowth. “Here, boy…come on out, little puppy. I won’t hurt you.” A rustle came from just behind him. Joe stood and turned, grinning. “There you are—” The sentence caught in his throat.
Standing before him was the most stunning woman he had ever seen. Her beauty made him want to weep; it was sweetly painful to look at her. Something deep within him knew she was not human, had never been human, and was not of this world. It was her eyes—they were otherworldly and dark, unnaturally dark, and spoke of ages long past, beyond anything Joe could imagine. Her hair, in contrast to her eyes, was a silvery blond that glowed like moonlight incarnate, almost matching the simple silvery sheath she wore. It was a light garment that fell to her ankles, enfolding her lithe but lovely body.
Michal and the beach became a forgotten dream. The world outside the grove ceased to exist. Only the woman was real. Only the woman mattered.
Chapter Two
NEWCASTLE BEACH
Watching Abby take in the r
oom, David could guess what she was thinking about. He knew that remembering the horror of that night would only make her fear grow. “Don’t think about it,” he whispered as he wrapped his arms protectively around her.
She looked up at him, terror in her eyes. “How can I not?”
His grip on her tightened; he wished he could shield her from everything, even her fear. “I know—but just don’t.”
Abby shifted in his embrace, turning to press her cheek against David’s chest.
He could feel the beat of her heart speeding up, and sensed that her fear was rising to panic. He couldn’t blame her. What if the Kruorumbrae had returned? David held her and kissed the top of her head, brushing his lips against her hair, trying to reassure her. “It’s okay, Abby—everything will be okay. I’m here and I won’t let anything hurt you. I promise.”
Abby looked up at his face. “I’m sorry. I just...coming back here and remembering…” She buried her head against his chest again.
“Shhhh. It’s all right,” David whispered, stroking her hair. “It’s okay to be scared. What happened to you was terrible. You were so, so very strong. Today it’s my turn. Okay?”
“Okay.” It was a strangled whisper, like she was trying not to cry.
He couldn’t tell if she succeeded, because her face was hidden, pressed against him. “We’ll just take it step by step, face whatever comes as it comes. Let’s focus on getting to your parents’ house, and only that. If something happens, we’ll deal with it then,” he said.
“Okay.” Her voice was stronger this time, calmer.
He placed his hand on her cheek, coaxing her out. “I love you, Abby.”
She looked up at him, her eyes glistening from the tears she was holding in. “I love you too.” She smiled weakly. Then she wrapped her arms around his neck, stretched up on tiptoe, and kissed him hard, as if she would never let him go, as if she were afraid she would have to.
Jon and Cael were on their guard, scanning the room for any sign that something might be waiting to ambush them.
Jon pointed at the moonlit circle of broken glass. “So, what happened here?”
Cael was studying the shattered dome. Jon saw his knuckles turn white as his grip on his sword tightened. It wasn’t a reassuring response. “They’ve come through,” Cael said. “Tierney is already here.”
Jon felt his face drain of blood. The reality of it, of facing something far worse than the shadow monsters they had already encountered, chilled him. Primal terror was close, the kind you feel when you are small and afraid of the dark, knowing something bad is there but feeling too afraid to find out what. It threatened to paralyze him, and he forcefully pushed it aside. He had to get home to his mom. David was right. Focus on one thing at a time, on getting home.
Michal was annoyed. She stared at the trees, scowling, her hands on her hips. What’s the deal? Joe should have been back already. What is he, lost? Come on—those trees are thick, but not that thick. The grove was bushy, yes; covered with vines, yes; dark and creepy, oh yes. But the thicket was also small—you’d have to be an idiot to get lost in there.
Maybe Joe was the one who was thick. She sighed, disgusted. Boys! She’d have to go in there. She thought about it. On second thought, maybe Joe isn’t an idiot. Maybe he had gone in there hoping to get away from the crowd, thinking she would catch on and join him. Well, if that was the case, he certainly didn’t communicate it very well. It wasn’t like she could read his mind. She stood up, brushing sand from her miniskirt, and began to walk toward the grove.
“Michal?” Monroe called.
Michal turned around. “What?”
“Where are you going?” Monroe asked. She looked clueless, twirling one of her curls around her finger as she sat on the driftwood log. On the sand in front of her were sweeping cursive letters. She’d been writing her initials in the sand with her toes, killing time while they waited for Joe to come back.
“I think Joe got lost. I’m going to see what’s taking him so long,” Michal responded, more irritated than before. She was annoyed at Joe for making her go after him into the dense, creepy grove, even if it was for some pathetic attempt at romance. And she was annoyed at Monroe for making her explain what should have been obvious. Not that she was surprised—with Monroe, that was par for the course.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Marisol warned.
She looked scared, but that only irritated Michal more, as she remembered it was Marisol who had started this whole thing with her silly, superstitious, “I think we’re being watched,” bit. Her general feeling of annoyance was chiseled down to a fine, focused point of anger. It had actually been a fun night until Marisol wrecked it by being a psycho. Michal waved her hand dismissively, turned back toward the grove, and kept walking.
She stepped into the trees, passing through a veil of vines, pushing them aside like a curtain. They fell back into place as she moved past them. Ahead, in the dark, was a large fallen tree. She climbed over it, lifting one leg and then the other, trying not to think about what kind of creepy-crawlies might be living on it. That would be the perfect end to the night, wouldn’t it? Something nasty with too many legs crawling over her bare skin. Her hand brushed into a spider web stretching from the log to an overhanging bush, and she squirmed, holding in a scream while flapping her hand around in a futile attempt to shake off the web. This was so not okay. Joe was probably close by, enjoying this little show. If he was, he was a dead man.
The second worst thing Abby, David, Jon, and Cael encountered on the walk home was the Buchans’ SUV, upside down on the grounds of the ruined mansion, one wheel spinning as though something had been sitting on it and had just jumped off. There was a moment where they all looked around frantically, and then a moment of surprise when nothing sprang out at them.
“I thought all the chaos caused by the Kruorumbrae was supposed to magically disappear,” Abby mused. On the day of his coronation, David had mentioned that a spell would overtake Newcastle Beach and erase evidence of the existence of Cai Terenmare and its inhabitants, good and evil.
David frowned. “As far as I know, the spell is already in effect. This must have just happened.”
“Best not to linger then,” Cael said, leading the way to the estate’s gates.
It was eerie—that feeling that something evil was close and just out of sight, something that could attack at any moment, but didn’t. Abby couldn’t figure it out. She felt like they were being watched, but she didn’t understand why they weren’t being attacked. It didn’t make sense. Where are Tierney and Lucia? Where are the Kruorumbrae?
The worst thing Abby saw was the look on Jon’s mother’s face.
Blanca Reyes was staring out the living room window of the Browns’ house. When Jon and Abby hadn’t come home, she, Bethany, and Frank had begun to worry, and by six in the morning, they’d called the police.
An officer had stopped by three slow and agonizing hours later, asking a lot of questions and assuring them that, in most cases, missing teens turned up in a few hours. Blanca didn’t like his tone—he seemed dismissive, making it seem like she was being overbearing and that Jon and Abby had run away together in some rebellious attempt at romance. But she knew her son, and he obviously didn’t. In fact, she didn’t think Officer Not Helpful knew much about kids at all.
Blanca was thinking about this when she saw them walk up the drive—first Jon, then Abby, holding hands with a boy with dark, curly hair, and finally, a rugged-looking older man. Her focus, though, was on her son, and as their eyes met, her despair gave way to joy, and the tears she had been holding back for hours broke free. She was out the door in an instant, flying down the front steps, running to him. It’s funny, she thought, how fast you can run to your child.
Her mind returned to a memory of Jonathon at three years old, encountering a rattlesnake in the backyard. It was one of those California summers when rodent populations soared and snakes grew bold in reaping the bounty. She was indo
ors, but his scream of terror pierced her soul, and she knew, without needing to see, what the scream meant. It launched her into instinctive action. She ran out the back door, scooped him out of harm’s way, deposited him safely on the back steps, and in the same fluid motion, grabbed a garden hoe and hacked the thing’s head off.
It had surprised her. She hadn’t known she could move like that. It gave her new confidence about raising her son. When she had realized that she would be doing it alone, that Jon’s father wanted no part of their lives, she had been terrified. The snake incident gave her new insight—she was strong. She could do this.
Now, holding her tall, almost-grown son, Blanca wept.
Jon wrapped his arms around her, repeating over and over, “Mom, I’m sorry, I am so sorry…”
Abby’s parents were coming down the steps, hurrying to enfold her in their arms. “Abby! Oh Abby, we were so worried!” Bethany Brown cried.
Abby was surprised. Where was her mother’s “Where have you been, young lady” speech?
“I’m sorry, Mom.” She hugged her mom and dad tight. She saw that her little brother was watching from the steps. He was only ten, and Abby could sense that he had been scared too. She felt so guilty.
David seemed to feel guilty as well. “I’m sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Brown, and Ms. Reyes,” he said. “We really didn’t mean to worry you.”
Cael looked nervous, but not about the family reunion. Abby thought perhaps he too had the keen sense that they were being watched and followed.
“Solas Beir, I suggest we finish what we came to do and return to Cai Terenmare. If Tierney knows you are here…” he warned.
The Rabbit And The Raven Page 3