“What is it with you? You think it makes you a man to hurt women?” Kiernan was trying to steady his breathing, but he could feel the fog of his bloodlust swarming his mind. He wanted to hurt him, to have a week or more to make him suffer. To have him begging for death long before he gave it to him.
“Butler is nothing more than a shell filled with hate.” Neala interrupted his thoughts with her voice. She was next to him now and in some ways it brought him back from the edge, and in others it reminded him of why he wanted to kill Butler in incredibly slow and creative ways. “There’s nothing left in him that would make him a man by any standard.”
Despite his injuries Butler still lunged for her, and Kiernan kneed him in the face to stop him. He was practically foaming at the mouth, his eyes boring into Neala and completely ignoring Kiernan. Butler was cursing, raging about Neala and what he thought of her with a single-minded ferocity. Kiernan temporarily entertained the idea of cutting his tongue out and feeding it to him, but he wasn’t the one who deserved to choose his punishment.
“You don’t get to talk anymore.” Kiernan stepped behind Butler and clamped a hand around his throat, cutting off his tirade. “Neala, I wish we had the time to make him suffer as much as he deserves.”
“I know.” Neala held up a hand, her blue eyes were somehow calm as she drew the sword from over her shoulder. In that moment she looked like a goddess come to deliver final justice. Breathtakingly beautiful, and unforgiving, and deadly.
She pressed the tip of the sword over Butler’s heart and he jerked his body away from her, but Kiernan pressed his knee into the man’s back to hold him still and Neala realigned the sword as the man sputtered for air.
“This is for Juliet,” the blade slipped past the fabric of his shirt and pierced his skin, “and Caridee,” she pressed it further and Kiernan could feel the scream in the man’s throat. “And for me.” The blade slid farther, and it must have pierced his heart because the blood flowed fast down his front. “And every other woman you’ve ever laid your hands on.” Neala put her hand on the hilt of the sword and shoved it through him; Kiernan moved his knee fast to avoid the blade.
In a matter of seconds Butler had stilled and Kiernan let go of him. As he slumped to the side Neala planted her foot in his chest and wrenched the sword free. She held it to her side, the blood dripping onto the pale gray tiles, and she just stared at him.
He couldn’t really remember seeing the Faeoihn fight, he barely remembered random images of the epic battle, but he imagined it had been incredible to watch them. Her eyes snapped to his and it surprised him, he wanted to do something – hold her, kiss her, dedicate himself to her, kneel at her feet and swear he’d protect her for the rest of his life – but he stayed still.
“Thank you for letting me kill him.” Neala’s voice was feather soft, and he could only nod. A crash came from the hall the girls had gone down and Neala took off before he had thought to react. He followed after her, keeping up so he wouldn’t get lost in the twisting back halls. There was a guard holding a gun on a tall blonde girl, most of the other girls were already in winter gear. Huge coats, boots, and pants. Another guard, brown haired, was pointing a gun at the hostage taker. Neala seemed to know what was happening because she stepped up next to the brown haired guard.
“All of you, get back to the slave quarters! Do it now and the punishment won’t be as bad.” The guard shouted, holding the blonde in front of him and looking panicked.
“Butler’s dead. Let Annika go.” Neala spoke clearly. She wasn’t moving towards him because she couldn’t do much with a sword that wouldn’t potentially hurt the blonde. Her flat comment about Butler made everyone gasp with shock.
“Liar!” The guard moved to point the gun at Neala and Kiernan reacted instantly, when he fired the gun he heard screaming and the blonde girl turned away. He hoped he hadn’t hit her, but he couldn’t let the man fire at Neala. She was his priority. When he rushed forward he saw the bullet had gone in on the right side of the guard’s forehead, and Kieran breathed a sigh of relief.
“Fuck this! This is insane!” The brown haired guard was wide-eyed. He turned around and a tall blond guy, not in guard gear, wrapped his arms around him.
“Is everyone dressed, Hills, yes or no?” Neala took charge and it made Kiernan smile a little to watch them all turn towards her, and hustle to respond, even in the stress of the situation. She had no idea the power she had over people, how others latched onto her strength to make themselves stronger. He loved her, utterly and completely, plain and simple.
“We need to wait, Fae.” Hills, the guard, was talking again, and rubbing the hand with the gun in it against the side of his head. She turned towards him and arched an eyebrow, letting him speak. “I, uh, called the police. I’ve kind of been working with them for a few months, undercover, trying to gather enough evidence for them to do a raid on this place, to shut it down. They know there are armed people here trying to get the girls out, and I didn’t name you guys, but they’re coming.”
He and Neala were the armed people, and in general police forces didn’t care what your reasons for walking around with weapons and killing people were. They preferred to lock everyone up and sort out details, and jail sentences, later. Not good when you were immortal and cursed. Things got incredibly complicated very quickly.
“Hills. That was not helpful.” Neala spoke through her teeth, her frustration evident. “How long do you think we have?” she asked.
He shifted his weight from side to side as he thought, before finally dropping the gun to his side. “I called about ten minutes ago, we’re pretty far out here, but maybe another ten to fifteen? Less if they use air support.” He grimaced, and the blond guy squeezed his shoulder.
“You and I cannot meet the police.” Kiernan spoke in hushed tones to Neala as he pulled her to the side. She nodded along with him as he spoke, her eyes scanning the group of girls.
“We can go out the side now and start moving, if we get to the woods before they arrive they’ll be too busy with everything here to track us.” Neala looked up above her, and then scanned the halls to either side for any hints of guard activity. Kiernan nodded, and Neala moved back to the girls.
“Help is coming, I think the police will protect all of you.” She glanced to Hills and he nodded to her. “Stay with Hills, arm yourselves with whatever you can, and do not give mercy to any of the guards left. Be strong, you all deserve to be free.”
“You’re leaving?” It was the dark skinned girl, and she looked like she might cry as she came forward and hugged Neala. Watching Neala hug her back he knew they’d made the right choice in getting the girls, even though it had resulted in violence and chaos when they probably could have slipped away mostly unnoticed.
“I don’t think the police would quite understand.” Neala said it with a half-laugh and the girl nodded against Neala’s shoulder, and let go. Then his Faeoihn was overwhelmed as almost every one of the girls hugged her, whispering thanks, over and over.
It was wonderful, but they really didn’t have time for extended goodbyes.
“I’ll miss you, Fae, I mean Neala.” The pixie had stepped in front of her, blushing a little. “That’s what he called you.”
“It’s my name, Irena.”
“Well, mine is -” a burble of sound came from the girl that resembled a bird chirping and the sound of rushing water at the same time. It hurt Kiernan’s head to hear it. The pixie laughed. “I know you can’t say it, but at least you know it now.” The two hugged hard again, but a thought struck him.
“Wait, you’ll have to come with us I think. Mortal police don’t know about your kind, they won’t handle it well.” Kiernan spoke up, knowing that it was going to be that much harder to move with the other girl, but he couldn’t leave her to become some science experiment. The little pixie looked confused a second and then closed her eyes. It almost seemed like the edges of her skin blurred, as Kiernan tried to focus it gave him a headache and he
had to look away and blink. When he turned back there was a tiny, pale girl with short blue hair and the pixie’s features, but no wings.
“I’ll be fine. We know how to hide, they just never let me.” The girl smiled and grabbed Neala in a bear hug. “I’m going to try and get home.”
“I had no idea you could -” Neala was flabbergasted as she hugged her back. “You’re full of surprises, Irena. Have Kiernan give you his cell number, then you can call us if you need us.”
Kiernan sighed, his muscles tense with worry that the mortal police would show up, but he took the pen that Hills offered and wrote his number on a scrap of paper and she tucked it into her pocket. Neala turned to him and he forced a smile, trying to show that he was confident her plan would work.
“Good luck.” Kiernan nodded at the group and then turned to head down the hall Neala had indicated. As they moved he reloaded his gun, tracing a path he hadn’t walked before. At the end was a door, and they picked up the pace so they could get outside and out of sight before the police arrived.
The click of a door opening stopped him, and Neala froze too. From a room to one side, just in front of the door, came three men. Kiernan lifted his gun and fired on the first, he hit him somewhere in the chest and he dropped. He aimed at the second who was lifting his own gun, and Kiernan fired twice, still hitting center mass and that guy slammed into the wall. Adjusting to aim at the third guy, Kiernan started to pull the trigger and a surge of pain like he’d never felt bolted up his left arm, sending his shot wide and bringing him to his knees with a shout.
“Kiernan!” Neala was a few steps behind him, but right as she spoke the man at the end of the hall raised his voice.
“Fae, get on your knees! And drop the fucking sword, it’s not like you’re going to use it.” Kiernan felt the hum in his words.
Shit.
He was the master. Marik.
When Kiernan looked behind him he saw the bands on her wrists, the pain in her face as she knelt and the sword fell from her hand. She had her teeth clenched shut, and he saw fear in her eyes.
“Good girl. Push the sword away from you now,” Marik commanded. The bands flared, and she did.
“Leave her alone.” Kiernan growled it out and stood for a moment, but when he tried to lift the gun again to shoot him he felt the vines spread, burning through his skin and sending a sickening pulse through his body. He dropped the gun as a sharp stab almost made him buckle. Without the gun the pain abated somewhat, but he still struggled to take a breath.
“I don’t know who you are, but apparently you can’t hurt me either, which is perfect.” Marik spoke clearly and calmly as he leaned down and took a gun from one of the dead guards. “As far as leaving Fae alone? She’s mine, and always will be.” It happened fast. Marik raised the gun, Kiernan heard Neala scream something, he heard the shot, and then he looked down to see blood coming out of a hole in his chest. He felt light headed, probably from shock, but then his instincts kicked in and he applied pressure to the wound.
Any minute Gormahn’s power would kick in and stop the bleeding.
Any minute.
Neala was crying, he could hear her behind him shouting his name, he had to do something to reassure her, but it was impossible to get the breath for it. The bullet had hit his lung, if he tried to force the air he was going to choke on the blood. Where the fuck are you when I actually need the power, Gormahn?
“Stop whining, Fae. Be silent.” Marik walked towards them, and Neala’s voice choked off. “I’m assuming he’s the one who helped you escape before? Well… I think we should show your friend exactly who you belong to.”
Marik opened his mouth to give an order, the hum in the air resonating in Kiernan’s ears as the power of the bands waited to act. Kiernan put a hand on the floor next to him and touched the edge of the sword. Yes. Just as Marik stepped next to him Kiernan grabbed the blade, the sharp edge digging into his palm, and then he shoved it up into Marik’s chest, under his ribs. A white-hot pain seared through Kiernan’s chest, over his heart, but he forced himself to grab the hilt of the sword and push it deeper. Marik looked down at him with a look of confusion, the gun thumping to the floor as Marik crumpled.
Then, everything went dark.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Ráj Manor, Caledon, Ontario
Neala couldn’t process what she’d seen, and it took her a moment to realize she was frozen with panic and shock. Marik had shot Kiernan, and he was bleeding, but then Kiernan had run Marik through with the sword. He’d killed him. She had to get to Kiernan, she had to stop the bleeding. When Neala tried to stand up the bands reacted instantly, sending pain arching across her back, and then her attempt to scream only doubled the pain.
Tears burned the edges of her eyes as she folded forward, stifling her urge to cry out so that the bands would stop. She lifted her head when the pain finally faded and she heard a slight rattle of breath come out of Marik.
He was still alive.
His breathing was weak, he wouldn’t live - but what about Kiernan?
Her mind flashed back to their first real conversation, the one where he’d explained why he had never helped one of the Faeoihn. He’d said he couldn’t, that it would kill him to kill a master. Which was exactly what he had just done. For her.
No, no, no, no, no.
Neala slapped the floor next to her, unable to speak, or move from the spot, as long as Marik still lived. Kiernan didn’t react at all. Bending forward as far as she could while staying in the kneel, she found that the tips of her fingers could brush Kiernan’s boot. She tapped it, over and over and over.
Nothing.
Sitting back up she pulled at her hair. Her hands were streaked with blood and she was sure she had wiped some of it on her face when she had brushed her tears away. She mouthed Kiernan’s name and slammed her palms on the floor again. Still no response, and the bright glow of the bands on her wrists mocked her by pulsing a steady ache as they ticked away the last seconds of Marik’s life – and maybe Kiernan’s.
Neala tilted her head to the side, trying to still herself so she could look for a rise and fall of Kiernan’s chest. Bracing her hands against the ground she held her breath. Was he breathing? Had she imagined the faint movement of his clothes? Was that rattle in his chest or Marik’s? She felt a hitch of breath in her own chest as she cried silently. He had come for her, to save her. Even when he couldn’t just use his power to disappear with her, he had stayed, he had fought for her and killed for her. Not just her, but all the girls. Complete strangers to him, and he had saved all of them. And for what?
If Kiernan was gone, she’d just end up in some new hell. Alone.
Her hand gripped the disc on the necklace, and a pit opened in her stomach. She’d never said she loved him. Another sob welled up in her throat, coming out in a silent gasp of breath as tears ran down her face. She was so stupid, so fucking stupid. She’d had him with her for hours, why hadn’t she said it the moment she saw him? Why hadn’t she screamed it at the top of her lungs the moment she was awake and in his arms?
The bands disappeared.
The constant humming ache they had supplied disappeared with them, and the first sound that came out of her was a sob. She moved towards Kiernan, rolling him gently onto his back. His face was pale, his eyes closed, and Neala laid her cheek against his lips to check for breath. She waited, and waited – no movement of air against her cheek. Another sob rolled out of her as she pressed her fingers to his throat, digging her fingertips in, desperate for a pulse that she knew wasn’t there.
“Kiernan, please, Kiernan, wake up! Wake up. GET UP, DAMMIT!” She shook him, but he didn’t move. Her hand found the bullet hole and she started to rip at the clasps and zippers that held the jacket on him. When it was open she grabbed the knife at her side and simply cut the shirt open. The bullet wasn’t the problem, it was about three inches below his heart, and survivable, especially for an immortal. No, the problem was the dark sword mark ov
er his heart, completely wrapped in the vines that spread from his shoulder.
His curse. Gormahn’s guarantee of obedience.
“NO! This can’t be happening, Kiernan, I fucking love you! I love you, I love you, please, you can’t leave me… this didn’t mean anything if you leave me!” She was screaming at him, hitting his chest, even though he couldn’t hear her anymore. Tears burned paths down her cheeks as her mind filled in what would happen next for her – she could run, but eventually someone would find her, claim her, and she’d be trapped again. No hope for freedom, or anything good ever again.
Always with the memory that she’d lost the only person to ever love her.
She couldn’t do that. She wasn’t that strong.
Reaching over Kiernan she picked up his gun. She was no expert with it, but she understood the basics. Point, pull trigger. She lifted it and put the still warm end against her temple. She probably, hopefully, wouldn’t survive a headshot. Closing her eyes she gripped the gun harder, her finger pressed to the trigger, and guilt swelled inside her as she tried to get the courage to pull.
Eltera.
“DAMMIT!” Neala screamed, dropping the gun to her lap. She sobbed, screaming with futile rage. Then she looked up at the ceiling, her chest a hollow wasteland that the goddess had to be able to see. “Eltera, if you’re still there, if you still see me and know me, if you have ever loved me like a daughter… release me from this! Release me from my pledge to you! Please, just let me go, because I can’t, I can’t do this anymore.” She gripped the gun in one hand, her other hand moving down Kiernan’s arm until she could interlace their fingers. Neala squeezed her eyes closed and lifted the gun to her temple again, breathing in, and out. She was shaking, a lot, or – no, she wasn’t shaking at all. A boom of thunder cracked over the house, and it made her take her finger from the trigger as the floor shook beneath her.
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