“I can live with that.” He pauses. “She sneaks out every night.” He smirks, but it’s a cold look now and there is no real mirth in his eyes. “Goes out and feeds some wild dog. Just follow his tracks and you’ll find her."
I nod again, almost glad for his frosty veneer. It’s easier to remember how dangerous he really is when he’s like this. “I think we can work with that. Is there anything else you think might be important that I should know?”
He is clearly mulling something over, but he shakes his head instead. “No. I think we’ll be fine.”
I study his face intently for a moment, wondering what he’s hiding. “As long as you’re sure. If you think of anything else, you’ll let me know?”
“You bet.” He moves to stand, hesitates and leans forward in his chair. “One thing you should know.” His warm gaze hooks mine again. “You, Fianna Dolan, are the first person I have ever considered to be a real friend in over three centuries. Don’t ever doubt that.”
I feel my mouth hanging open slightly and close it as I look into his eyes, surprised to see that he truly means what he’s saying. My mother’s voice wars with my father and grandmother in my head. But who do I listen to? They’re all gone from me now, so I have to figure things out for myself using what they taught me. My dad always told me to trust my instincts, no matter what.
“Fianna, lass — don’t over think things so. If a person means you harm, you’ll know it. And if they are truly your friend, you’ll feel it. Do not doubt your instincts, daughter, and you’ll be fine.” I can hear him saying it over and over through the years. How I wish I could lay all my worries at his feet and let him make everything all right again in my world as he used to. Sadly those days are over now.
I decide then that the time has come for me to take the reins in my life. No more second guessing my instincts. Besides, friendship is harmless, right? Even if this man seems to inflict emotional whiplash on me on a regular basis without batting an eye. I’m not really surprised when I hear myself say, “Thank you, Flint. I would like it very much if we could be friends.” I smile at him tentatively; scared but trying not to show it.
I meet his eyes as he studies my face and he manages a small smile and says, “Good. Me too.” He stands and clears his throat. “I’m gonna take a walk. You know where to find me if you need anything.” I nod and he’s gone; leaving me feeling slightly keyed up by our conversation and my decision.
I decide to stay in the office for the afternoon, making plans and jotting down questions to ask Flint or Seamus in the journal. For the first time in weeks, no one comes looking for me to help them with anything. I am alone and it’s peaceful, and I’m enjoying the serenity immensely. I hear the unmistakable sounds of heavy feet on the staircase coming towards me and hold in a groan, knowing who it is before the hulking form of my cousin appears at the top of the stairs.
I hear him call my name and call out to him, “In here, Sean.”
“What are you doing in there?” he asks before he’s even in the door to the office. I sigh with annoyance.
“What do you need, Sean?” I ask instead of answering his question.
He looks affronted but doesn’t comment for once. “I just wanted to check in with you. I hadn’t seen you today.” I do my best to hold back the scowl I can feel forming. I know he’s here to check up on me because of Flint.
I keep my face blank. “I’m glad you’re here, actually. Sit down — we need to go over the plan to kidnap the Winter princess.”
This seems to appease him and he settles in the chair Flint vacated; picking up a muffin from the basket. “I wasn’t aware we had any sort of plan yet,” he says; taking a huge bite of the muffin and chewing noisily.
I stifle the urge to tell him to mind his manners and say, “Well I was talking with Flint earlier, and I think I have things figured out now. I thought you’d like to come, too. If you’re interested, that is.”
He polishes off his muffin and nods. “Of course I’m coming, Fianna. Like I’d let you go off on your own.” I try not to bristle at the implication that I can’t handle myself, but find myself correcting him.
“I can handle myself, as you well know, Sean. And I wouldn’t be on my own, anyway. Flint will be coming as well.”
Sean makes a strangled noise and I look up from my notes to see his mouth working furiously. I hold my hand up before he can say anything and tell him plainly, “I don’t want to hear it. It will be the three of us going to get her. I’m trying to figure out where to put her when we get her back here. If you have anything to add to that discussion, I’d love to hear it.” I pause; looking him in his eyes and trying to impart how serious I am about what I’m about to say. “If you say one word about not trusting Flint or not thinking he should come, I will smack you. Do you understand me?”
He looks like he might be swallowing his tongue with the effort to do as I’ve asked. Finally he nods at me and grabs the last muffin out of the basket I brought up earlier. Twice he makes a sound like he might say something, but I quell it with a look. The third time he looks excited about something and says, “I know where we can keep the Winter girl.”
I look up from the journal and raise my eyebrows to him. “Oh? And where is that?”
He looks smug, which doesn’t bode well for Lumi. “We can build an iron cage in the basement. I mean, think about it, Fi — it’s the perfect solution.”
“Sean, be serious. We are not going to threaten her into helping us! I meant what room here in the house should I get ready for her! When did you become such a sadist?”
“Fianna, don’t be a fool. You’re going to trust a faery you’ve never met to live here in this house with no insurance? People aren’t going to be happy about that. You can’t forget that you have to keep the community’s voice in mind now, too.”
Damn him for sounding semi-reasonable. I have no desire to put anyone in a cage of any type, and definitely not one that could kill them slowly and painfully. “Damn it, Sean,” I say; miserable about this idea but unable to deny his logic. “Is that even something you’d be able to make?” I ask finally.
“I’ll talk to Seamus and we’ll get the materials together. We’ll do it this weekend,” he says, and I feel dread settle in my stomach. I can’t help but worry about what my new friend will think of this plan.
I sigh resignedly. “Fine. This is only a precaution, you hear me?”
“Of course,” Sean responds, but I can’t help but feel like I just approved a plan to torture a girl who has never done anything to me except being born Fae. I feel like I’ve changed in ways that I won’t ever be able to fix. And I don’t like it.
Chapter 12— Flint
June 2102
I have to say I was having a peaceful night’s rest when I was rudely awoken by a loud clang of metal on metal coming from somewhere below me. Jerking upright, I take silent note of my surroundings and feel confusion settle over me. I still appear to be in the Dolan’s guest room, currently tangled in the sheets from lashing out at whoever I thought was in the room with me, but the harsh clattering of materials is still shaking the ground beneath me. I scowl and swing my legs over the edge of the bed, reach for the jeans I discarded carelessly the night before, and step out of the room as I pull up the zipper.
“Beep, beep, beep!” Seamus’s youngest boy, Neall yells as he barrels past me toward the basement stairs, holding a long iron bar above his head. It bangs against the walls and I nearly leap back into my room so I don’t get smacked with it; trying to ignore the overpowering smell.
“The hell…?” I mumble to myself. I follow in the young boy’s tracks slowly and nearly get trampled by an older teen rushing up the steps. He murmurs a quick apology to me and continues on his mission out the back door. I hear a curse fall out of someone’s mouth from the bottom of the stairs and follow it; having to grip the handrail when I reach the bottom steps so I don’t fall over.
Sean takes one look in my direction and sneers. He moves of
f the wall to kneel beside a huge plate of solid iron, and I take a few deep breaths to fight the nausea off. “What the hell are you doing?”
Sean turns his nose upwards and looks into the room I can’t make it to. “Baking a cake,” he snipes and I roll my eyes. He has the wit of a dead cat. He hooks his hands under the huge metal piece and lifts it off the ground, and then throws a smirk over his shoulder at me. I know the toxin weighs at least a hundred pounds, but I continue to stare at him indifferently. He scoffs, disappears around the corner and I hold my breath; taking the last few steps to see what’s going on around the corner, in spite of my stomach tying itself in knots over the smell.
The sight that greets me makes me want to vomit. There is a small group of people, aged five to fifty, fussing over a small construction project that looks like the beginning of a cage. There is a solid floor made strictly of iron with a few bars welded messily onto it, and Sean is crouched over inside of it, holding the large plate over his head. Seamus’ youngest son, the one who nearly impaled me on the upper level, is still holding a bar; swinging it around wildly and making kung fu sounds.
“Neall!” Sean calls. “C’mere, buddy. Hold that sword under that corner.”
“On it, Sean!” he cries, and rushes over to do as the taller man said. I see a glimpse of humanity in the oaf as he smiles and instructs the kid on how to properly help him, and I shake myself. The iron must really be getting to me.
“Fi?” I call, and she looks away from Sean and Neall when she hears her name. Her smile drops a little but she wanders over to me anyway. “Hey Flint.”
“Hi,” I reply with the same tone she had — like I couldn’t possibly be more annoyed to have to share the same air as her yet again — and wave my hand towards the mess her family is making. “What’s going on down here?”
She pushes her long braid of hair back behind her shoulder and shakes her head. “Preparing for Lumi’s arrival.”
“By doing what?” I ask. “Building a panic room?”
She shakes her head and furrows her brow for a second. “No, we’re building her a cage. You look a little pale, are you feeling okay?”
“It’s the iron,” I snap at her. “Why in the hell would you need a cage for her?”
“It’s just a precaution, Flint,” she says in that overly calm way of hers, and I know she’s getting annoyed already. I brace my hand against the wall and pinch the bridge of my nose. I think I’m going to be sick and I really don’t need her to know that. “You realize the girl is like, tiny, right?” I ask. “This is…overkill.”
“Well what shall we do, then?” she asks and crosses her arms, and I know she doesn’t want an answer. “Allow her to roam the house freely, like you?”
I shoot a hard glare at her for talking about me like some wild animal and see her eyes get a bit wider as she realizes the weight in those two added words. “I…I didn’t mean it like that—”
“You might want to put a bed in there,” I cut her off. My head is pounding as it is, and talking to her is making it worse. “Iron burns right through clothes, and I think you want to keep her breathing.”
She frowns and I turn and head back up the stairs as Sean starts whining at her about a lunch break. It smells like sawdust and coffee in the kitchen, and while I’d love to sit here and revel in that, I really don’t want to hear Fi’s explanation for her comments. As I head towards the back door to take a walk I notice Eirnin sitting at the kitchen table, hunched over a coffee mug and staring into it like someone killed his puppy.
Part of me thinks I should leave him to his thoughts and go about my business, but I actually like the kid, and frankly, my curiosity has always been stronger than my will. I release the doorknob and move to the counter; poking his shoulder. “What’s bothering you, kid?”
Eirnin looks up slowly and shrugs. “Nothing at all,” he says quietly. “Just sitting here being invisible.”
Lifting a brow at his funky, depressed state, I glance toward the stairs from where I just came to make sure Fi isn’t watching me with distaste before dropping my voice. “Well I hate to burst your bubble, but you’re doing a shitty job.” He looks up at me in confusion. “I can see you just fine.”
He opens his mouth to reply but just ends up making a small chuckling noise, then shakes his head. “Where are you running off to—” he drops his voice, and I have to wonder if he’s worried about Fi overhearing us, too, “—all by yourself?” He claps a hand over his mouth like he’s a child who just said a bad word.
I smirk at him. “Into the dangers of the backyard. Serious shit, man. Better get a dozen guards to come with me.”
He laughs and leans down in his seat to kick the chair beside me out a few inches. “Would you like to join me for some coffee and complaining?”
I can’t help but echo his laugh at that one, and I nod. “Sounds like the most enjoyable thing I could possibly be doing today.”
Far too excited about being able to talk to somebody, Eirnin leaps out of his seat and runs to the coffee pot. “How do you take it?” he asks, rambling on before I can reply. “Are you hungry? I’m sure Fi has something delicious my aunt baked for her squirreled away somewhere.” He sets a mug that looks like it was painted by one of Seamus’ boys beside the coffee and starts digging through the cabinets.
Finding humor in his hunt, I take my seat and watch him flounder; completely ignoring the weary look someone shoots me as they retreat from the basement and out the back door to retrieve more supplies. “I take it black, thanks.”
The sound that falls out of his mouth is inhuman, and he scowls at me as he returns to the coffee pot. “Ack,” he grunts. “You’re like Fi. She would at least dump some sugar in it, though.” He fills the mug and scoots it across the table to me as though it’s a dead bird, and I hold in another snort. He’s nearly seven feet tall and smarter than anyone in this place, but I am suddenly reminded of his age as he pulls out a plate of muffins with excitement. “Aha!” he cries. “I knew I’d find the stash! Help yourself.”
He sets the plate down between us and resumes his previous position, and I wave my hand for him to start complaining as I pick up one of the blueberry muffins. “Where to begin?” he says, and I snort. “I just wish my sister would wake up and realize I’m not a child that needs to be swaddled and protected,” he continues seriously; ripping his own muffin in half. “It’s ridiculous that she’s wasting manpower having me tailed everywhere.”
I shrug, tear the top off the sweet muffin and bite into it. “Meh. Don’t take it too personal. She’s just…” I shake my head. Why I’m defending her, I have no idea. My mistakes with my own little sister have been poking at me since I first watched these two interact. That must be it, I tell myself. Ellie is haunting me. “She just doesn’t want you to get hurt. You’re pretty much all the girl has left.”
He nods but I can tell the words don’t register fully. He is just as stubborn as his sister. “I could help if she’d let me,” he says defiantly. “But she won’t. So I’m not engaging if I can help it. For now.”
Shaking my head, I wonder how these two haven’t killed each other yet. “You have to bug her. ‘Prove’ you can pull your own weight and all that crap.” I roll my eyes. “In case you haven’t noticed, she’s a bit of a control freak.”
He outright laughs at the statement and nods. “You really do know my sister.” He yanks a single blueberry out of his treat and sets it back on the plate. “Control freak might be too mild a term.”
“I’m just trying to be politically correct, here,” I defend with a chuckle and lean back in my chair. Fi and Sean come up from the basement and I expect one, if not both of them, to turn and yell at me for even looking at Eirnin, but they are so involved in their own conversation I’m not even sure they see us. Maybe Eir is slightly invisible around here, and I’m unseen by association.
He shrugs again and continues tearing berries out of the bread. He is totally caught up in it and back to looking rather depres
sed. “Did she even tell you what’s going on?” I ask before taking another bite.
A humorless, hollow laugh breaks from his mouth and he frowns. “Fi tell me something about things that are happening in my house? Oh, Flint, you’re so funny.”
I quirk a brow and look at the kitchen table. It would appear at this point I have two options, and neither one has a wonderful outcome. I could tell the kid the truth and risk being ripped a new one by his psychotic older sister, or I could simply sigh, ‘oh that sucks’ and have him believe I see him as a toddler like she does.
I’m about to go with the latter option, but when I open my mouth to follow through, I get to watch him yank the final blueberry from the bread with a totally miserable expression on his face. I clench my jaw and sigh. Screw it, I think. I believe I’ve hidden enough of the truth from younger siblings to last a million lifetimes. What’s the worst Fi could do, anyway?
“Want to find out?” I ask. I’m not sure if I’m responding to his statement or answering my inner question.
Eirnin’s head snaps up and his eyes brighten considerably at the thought. His head makes a small nodding motion before he shakes it, clearing it. “Won’t that get you into trouble with Fi, though?”
I snort. “You say that like I’m not already.” Unsure if I’m convincing him or myself, I push my chair back and contemplate how violently I will be maimed for this. “Come with me.”
He’s out of his seat so fast it falls on the floor with a loud clang. He winces and scrambles to pick it back up; settling it under the table before vaulting the kitchen table and ending up right behind me. “Lead the way, friend,” he says. The kid is practically bouncing at my heels.
With a small grin I gesture for him to stay a few feet behind me as I head back into the Iron Hell being assembled in the basement. The wave of toxins crashes into me and I gag, but try to shake it off as best I can. Fi and Sean are nowhere to be seen, and any other person assisting them has since departed for a break. I wave my hand so Eirnin knows the coast is clear and push against my temple. I pity the poor girl who will soon occupy this space.
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