by HD Smith
“This is getting us nowhere,” The Boss said. “We must consider our options.”
Throwing his hands up, Harry yelled, “What options are there but to wait and see if Claire can save us?”
Ronin spoke before anyone could answer. “I’ve heard Claire now possesses the power of the fourth realm, and that looks like a nasty magic burn on a man that should be untouchable. Perhaps her odds of success are better than we think?”
Fuck me. What the hell had Ronin just done? Was he trying to get Harry to kill me? Or was this somehow my doing? I shook my head. F-ing time travel.
They all looked at Ronin as if they’d forgotten he was there until he spoke. Quaid shifted his stance, covering the back of his right hand. The Boss glanced at Quaid, who raised and lowered one of his eyebrows almost imperceptibly, which I took to mean he hadn’t spilled the beans about my new power to anyone. So why had I wanted Ronin to?
“Claire’s not our sister,” Mab admonished, jerking her head to the side as if sending Ronin away. She turned back to the others, ignoring Quaid completely. I was sure she was hoping Harry wouldn’t put two and two together, but if he thought about it, he’d understand what Ronin really meant.
Harry narrowed his eyes at Ronin, then glanced between The Boss and Mab. He was getting suspicious.
As Ronin passed, I heard, “I hope you know what you’re doing, lass, because that’s one hell of a shit storm I’ve just unleashed on your behalf.”
Yep, f-ing time travel.
Harry’s eyes were still narrowed, studying them. He was going to figure it out.
Mab continued as if Harry wasn’t about to blow a gasket. “It’s possible they were all capable of waking the realm. She was just the first to try.”
Harry’s eyes flashed amber, his jaw clenched. Fuck, he just figured it out.
“What have you done?” he bellowed.
Mab remained tight-lipped.
Harry turned to Quaid. “Who gave you that mark?” he snarled.
“Claire,” The Boss said, drawing Harry’s attention away from Quaid.
Harry’s eyes glowed. His hands were clenched into fists. The vein in his forehead pulsed. “Unless I’m wrong about his status, Brother, that mark should be impossible.”
“You’re not wrong. He’s my realm’s chosen,” The Boss confirmed, “but I know nothing of Claire’s true state”—he glanced back at Quaid, then settled his eyes on Mab—“as I was not informed prior to the meeting.”
I was right. Quaid hadn’t told.
“What?” Mab said coyly as if she could ever be considered innocent.
“What did you do to her?” The Boss asked.
Mab laughed. “I had to do something. She wasn’t going to be able to defeat your four children with her pathetic abilities—and they protect the Name Caller.”
The Boss’s lips thinned, as if he were holding back his anger. Before he could comment, Harry closed his eyes and held out his hand toward the blood room. A moment later his eyes shot open, blazing white. I was sure that look meant—he’d just confirmed his blood was missing. He began to chant, and I bent double with pain.
“Stop,” Mab yelled.
I dropped to my knees. I felt blood running from my nose. My teeth chattered as my body temperature dropped. Was Harry trying to kill me? Or get back his blood? Most likely, both.
“Brother,” The Boss said, laying a hand on Harry’s arm. “Let us discuss the options first.”
Harry pulled his arm away. “Mab had no right to give the girl my blood.”
My teeth were still chattering as I returned to my feet. Shit, Harry didn’t even need to know where I was to affect me—was it because I had his blood in me? He could rip it out no matter where I was?
“I will not let her keep it, Brother,” Mab said, as if that made everything okay.
Harry’s eyes flared amber. “We’re here hiding, speaking of a child—which should already be dead—that can command an army with her voice, when we should be talking about the hell you have unleashed on the world, a power so great as to be immeasurable. The World Killer. The great destroyer. The ender of time itself. And your answer is that you won’t let her keep it?”
Holy shit, the World Killer? My painting had been titled Fallen Queen, but the destroyed city had brought to mind the World Killer. Was it all tied together now? The Harbinger and the great destroyer—World Killer? Was I doomed to both fates? For now I decided to ignore which prophecy was tied to the decimated city in the painting. There was nothing I could change yet, so worrying about it wouldn’t help. One incredibly fucked up problem at a time.
Mab sighed. “That’s one way to look at it, Brother, but I choose to think of it as an advantage, nothing more. How else would our fledgling Fall Queen survive round one?” Mab asked, glancing at The Boss. “We’re all doomed if she fails.”
“My blood is more than an advantage,” Harry growled. “Combined with Jayne’s blood it creates a cohesive bond to any realm she is connected to by blood, which would be bad enough if it were only Paradise, but add in the fact that you both have marked her, allowing her to bind with Purgatory and Hell—she’s practically invincible.”
When he put it that way, it was no wonder he didn’t want me marked with his blood. Of course, invincible seemed like a stretch.
“She isn’t one of us,” Mab reminded him. “There is a greater danger of her killing herself with it. She doesn’t have the necessary aptitude to be anything more.”
Wow, Mab really thought the world of me. Of course, I wasn’t so sure she was wrong.
“She’s right, Brother,” The Boss interjected. “It’s unlikely Claire will learn to wield the power before the time is up. However, this advantage will most likely kill my children.” He stared daggers at Mab.
Mab shrugged. “My child is there too. I don’t wish for her to kill them, but the girl must be stopped. Sacrifices may be necessary, Brother.”
The Boss growled. I was sure part of him knew she was right. Of course, he’d feel differently if he knew of my bond to Thanos, and that I’d made a deal with Mab that guaranteed I’d protect her son. Unfortunately, setting him straight wouldn’t solve any problems, and I was bound by my word to save them all.
“My blood will be removed,” Harry said, “immediately upon her return.”
“Yes, yes, of course, Brother. That is the plan,” Mab said. “And if she dies, well...one of the others will fulfill the prophecy. Perhaps we can bargain with the Name Caller, give her the fourth realm as a peace offering—if Claire fails, of course,” she added quickly.
That bitch. If she thought it was safe to offer the deal now, I was sure she wouldn’t even wait for me to fail. Raven was unpredictable, but I seriously doubted she’d take any deal from Mab. If Raven did, I’m sure the remaining big three would figure out a way to trap her there. I wonder if they already knew descendants were returning. Didn’t Mab realize Raven would gain the realm’s power if she became the Fall Queen?
The Boss rolled his eyes. “As if that would work.”
“Oh, one of the others then. It doesn’t really matter,” Mab said, dismissively.
Harry and The Boss both turned to Mab. “What others?” they asked in unison.
The Boss finished, “You said the others were dead.”
“Of course, she also said the Name Caller was dead. I’m beginning to think our Sister tells more lies that truths.” Harry stated.
Mab opened her mouth, then shut it. She took a step back when their eyes started to glow. “Now, brothers, this isn’t really the time to quibble over insignificant contenders.”
“Who. Else?” Harry asked.
“The twins, but they’re mere children. Nothing to worry about really.”
“Nothing to worry about?” Harry bellowed. “Have you been trying to tempt fate for years? Have you been holding onto the Name Caller, and lying to us about dead girls, all this time? Are you trying to force the end? You know it can’t be controlled.”
; The Boss’s arms were crossed over his chest. “Four contenders in one time. You fool.”
“I didn’t let her escape,” Mab screamed. “I wanted my son back—that is the only reason I kept her. And anyway, even if there are four contenders in one time, we have never believed in it.”
“We have never let four exist before,” Harry countered. “You said the twins were dead. You lied.”
“I never intended to let the girl leave this room. I was told—”
“The debt,” The Boss interrupted. “You repaid the debt. This is Gizelle’s doing.”
The silence was broken by Harry. At first I thought he was crying, then I realized he was laughing, which quickly became a somewhat maniacal chortle.
Was he insane? Or did he understand the complexity of Gizelle’s scheming?
“Gizelle,” he said, through gasping chuckles. “You repaid one of her debts? Let me guess—she also told you not to kill the twins?”
Mab pressed her lips together.
Harry continued. “Was that step forty-seven, or four-hundred-and-seventy? Or have you lost count?”
“My son lives,” she said, as if that was explanation enough.
“Do the rest of us have to die for that to remain true?” Harry spat.
Mab turned away. “What’s done is done. Claire will succeed. She has to.”
Everything was crazy now, because I actually think she meant it.
“We all knew this time was different,” The Boss said. “We have all felt the pull of the fourth realm. The descendants are returning.”
Mab reached for the pendant that wasn’t there. She dropped her hand. “That is no matter. She will not go to the fourth realm. Claire will return with me.” She paused for a long beat. “As my son’s wife.”
Quaid’s eyes widened. The Boss clamped his mouth shut. Harry roared again with laughter.
I took that as my cue to leave.
Chapter 34
Since I was already on Ronin’s line, I used my ability to slide into the past. He was talking to the bartender at the Wild Hare. I walked outside, not wanting to materialize inside the bar. The street wasn’t busy, but I stepped off to the side anyway. I made an effort to coalesce the power in my palms, the way I’d moved my body to the Deeps, but just thinking it snapped my physical form to the street outside the bar and grill.
I had a few odd looks from pedestrians on the street as I materialized. I covered my stumble from the force of the transport by taking a step forward. I caught sight of my reflection in the store glass and knew what everyone was staring at: my eyes were glowing green. I blinked and they returned to their normal hue. The experience of slipping my body was smoother this time, but still a bit rocky.
I looked away when one of the pedestrians bowed. I didn’t need a swarm of Fallen descendants crowding around me and drawing more attention. I quickly crossed the street and headed toward the bar.
The Wild Hare was on the Purgatory side of downtown. I hesitated a moment before entering, until I remembered that my bond to Ronin—and my marriage to Thanos—legally made me a pagan. Also, I was fairly sure I could level the bar before anyone laid a hand on me—regrettably, not because I’d want to. I touched the pendant to quell the power. I had no desire to hurt anyone, I just needed to see Ronin.
The place was loud and crowded. A wooden bar ran along one wall, with booths and a scattered mix of tables throughout. Music blared from a room in the back. It was an odd mix of heavy metal and country—not something you hear every day. At least the wooden floors weren’t littered with peanut husks, but there was the obligatory waitresses wearing blue jean daisy dukes and three-inch peep toe heels.
Most of the pagans were in high end jeans or biker leather. The few in suits just looked lost. I knew how they felt.
I watched as a pagan glanced up at me, then quickly dropped money on the table before leaving. A simmering quiet followed in my wake. Chairs scraped the floor behind me as more patrons headed home. No one looked at me twice; one glance and they were out.
I figured out why when I caught my reflection in the mirror behind the bar. A faint metallic green glimmer ran across my eyes. I guess part of the cat was out of the bag, but since I didn’t know how to hide that feature, I’d just have to roll with it.
I looked around, but I didn’t see Ronin. He’d been at the bar a minute ago, but he was gone now.
The barkeep, who’d been the guy talking to Ronin, wiped the counter in front of me. “What’ll you have?”
“I’m looking for the Bounty Hunter.”
He glanced pointedly toward the right side of the room. I turned and noticed a short, muscle-bound pagan with white-blond hair guarding a door along the far wall.
I turned back to the bartender. “Who else is in there?”
He hesitated. I grabbed his hand before he could walk away. I pulled him close, locking our eyes. “Who else is in there?”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw another bartender approaching us. “This doesn’t concern you,” I said without looking away. He backed up, palms out.
“Who else is in there?” I asked. “Don’t make me ask again.”
“The owner, but he won’t see you,” the bartender said.
I released him and he stepped back, shaking his head as if he were trying to clear away fog.
I headed for the office. The few remaining patrons kept their distance. The guard, however, didn’t look fazed. He crossed his arms over his chest and stood his ground.
“I’m looking for the Bounty Hunter,” I said. “I have no beef with your boss.”
He looked me up and down, unimpressed. He held up his right wrist and spoke into it.
The power was building again, as if it was responding to a threat. I sensed someone behind me. Without warning I spun around and threw my will at the bouncer, sending him across the room, through the wall, and into the building next door.
At that point, anyone still in the bar left.
I turned back to the guard. The muscles in his neck tightened, then relaxed. I motioned for him to step aside.
“Thank you,” he mouthed, as he ran toward the nearest exit.
I used my will to push the door open. Unfortunately, this resulted in a ball of hellfire that wrenched the door right off its hinges, breaking the doorjamb, and splitting it in two.
I touched the pendant to calm the rage within, before stepping into the office.
Ronin was standing over a small pagan who seemed to be begging for his life. He stopped when I entered.
“Who the hell is she?” the owner asked.
“She’s nobody,” Ronin said before snapping his neck.
“Nobody?” I asked sarcastically, as if there was a way to lighten the mood and ignore the dead body in the room. I’d assumed his duties for Mab included more than just retrieval, but clearly he didn’t have an issue with wet work.
Ronin dropped the owner to the floor and headed wordlessly toward the second door in the office. He ripped it off its hinges and headed down the steps.
A young woman, severely beaten, lay unconscious on the basement floor. Ronin reached down and pulled her limp body into his arms—then disappeared.
I had no choice but to follow him. I closed my eyes and slipped down the line connecting us. I materialized outside a small farmhouse in Purgatory. I watched as Ronin handed the young woman over to an older man. An older woman beside him was crying, pushing back the young girl’s hair to see her face.
Without a word he left again.
Indeed. I closed my eyes and followed him.
This time I arrived at a campsite just like the one where we’d met. He sat by the fire, about to open a can of beans. He looked up. “I see you’ve learned a few new tricks, lass.”
I rolled my eyes. “You don’t know the half of it. Who was the girl?”
“None of your business. Don’t ask about her again.”
And just like that I couldn’t ask another question about the girl. Complete control sucked
, which meant I had to be careful not to piss him off. I needed him to understand the situation.
“How did you get away from the castle?” he asked.
“They let me go. It’s a long story, and that’s not why I’m here.”
“Why are you here?” he asked, this time with command in his voice.
“I need your help,” I said without thinking. Although the more I considered it, the more I realized it was true. I did need his help. “Not to be overly dramatic, but if you don’t help me, the world will end. Oh, and I know about Gizelle now. Let’s hope she doesn’t need any more favors from Mab anytime soon.”
I expected him to laugh, but he didn’t. His brows came down into a flat line. “How?”
I started explaining. I told him about Raven and Thanos and everything else in between. He listened and asked questions. I warned him about Raven’s gift, although he didn’t seem as worried as I was about how it might affect him. I told him about Harry’s blood, and I explained about the quads and Gizelle and my bargain with Mab, and what he needed to do at the museum. I explained everything.
“Is there anything you haven’t done, lass?” he asked.
“I haven’t killed anyone yet, but there’s still a few hours to go.”
He laughed, but I kept a serious face. “I’m surprised you’re holding it together at all,” he said.
I touched the pendant. “I’ve had some help, but I need to be able to do it myself. I need to learn how to use it.”
“Who tagged you? Mab?” he asked, looking at my arm—the place where Gizelle had branded me with her touch, the one that seemed to thrum as a reminder if I was about to kill one of her children.
“No, that’s Gizelle’s,” I said, rubbing my arm.
He nodded. “You know it will kill you if you fail?”
“She’ll have to find me first.”
“No, lass, that wee tag will do the job for her.”
“Fuck. Me. Of course it would.” I let out a long breath and rubbed my temples. “I need help. The power is running through me, and I barely know how to direct it. It can go off the rails in the right situation and if that happens, we’re all screwed.”