by Terri Reid
She stared at him. “There’s iron in the walls of the basement?”
He nodded. “Yeah, so I don’t think he’s leading us into a trap,” he explained. “I think we’ve got a fairly uncomfortable faerie down there.”
A slow smile spread over Em’s lips. “That’s the best news I’ve heard all day,” she said.
They continued down the stairs and found the faerie standing in the middle of the basement, twisting and turning, trying to find a way out. Sean had to get his head around the fact that this thing was not Jamal, the kid who had been frightened to death in the hospital bed and could eat food like he had a hollow leg. But it was hard when your eyes said one thing and your mind was supposed to realize another. But Em had no problem discerning the truth of the situation.
Em pulled out her sword and held it up. “You have one chance to speak,” she said, holding the edge of her sword to his neck. “Or refuse and I will kill you.”
“I will not talk, mongrel,” he spat at her.
“Your choice,” she replied, pulling her sword back in order to swing it forward. But before she could swing, Sean placed his hand on her arm and held her back. “I’m sorry, Em,” he said softly so the faerie could not hear them. “I know this is not the way you do things, but since I’m involved, I have to follow the rules.”
“There are no rules when it comes to these creatures,” she whispered fiercely. “You cannot use your human laws.”
He shrugged. “Those are the only ones I’ve got,” he said and stepped towards the faerie. He looked at the face of the creature; it held Jamal’s features except for the eyes. That’s how Em did it, Sean decided. If you looked in its eyes, you could see they were not the wide, innocent eyes of a thirteen year-old kid. They were ancient and filled with contempt and malevolence. And Sean wondered how those eyes looked when it tried to seduce her.
Sean stood in front of the fake Jamal and looked down at him. “I just have one question. Your answer will not be used against you in a court of law, but I want to ask you before I read you your rights.”
“I have no answers for your questions, human,” the faerie spat, his voice changing from Jamal’s to an older one with a slight Irish accent.
“Just one,” Sean said, as if the faerie hadn’t replied. “Were you the one with Em this morning, or is there another faerie in the church?”
Chuckling, the faerie immediately transformed into Sean’s likeness and stood eye to eye with the man who had been questioning him. He smiled slowly and nodded, using Sean’s own voice. “I nearly bedded her,” he taunted. “And she was eager, just like her mother.”
Em gasped and tightened her hold on her sword. Sean glanced at her and shook his head. “No, Em, we have to do this the right way,” he said, and then he turned back to the faerie, his double. “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you. Do you understand the rights I have just repeated to you?”
The faerie stared at him for a moment. “Are you mad?” he asked. “You don’t read rights to a faerie because you, human, are not able to capture a faerie.”
“Do you understand the rights I have just repeated to you?” Sean asked as he moved next to the faerie.
“Are you now deaf as well as crazy?” the faerie asked.
“Yes or no?” Sean said.
“Yes. I understand what you have said,” he replied sarcastically.
“Good,” Sean replied, slipping behind him, pulling handcuffs from his back waistband and slapping them on the faerie’s wrists, “because now you are arrested.”
The faerie screamed and jumped around the room, changing from looking like Sean to his own, natural shape, a slender and blonde young man. He waved his arms frantically behind his back. “Get them off!” he screamed. “Get them off!”
“What’s wrong?” Em asked, looking over at Sean. “What’s happening?”
“Oh, did I forget to mention that handcuffs are made with stainless steel?” Sean asked, with a nonchalant shrug. “And stainless steel has iron in it.”
He grabbed the faerie’s arm and pulled up towards the stairs. “Let’s just see how tough you really are,” he said, “when you’re not taking advantage of women.”
Chapter Thirty-nine
The door to Father Jack’s apartment was ajar, and Ian and Gillian approached it cautiously. Wordlessly, Ian placed his hands on Gillian’s upper arms and moved her against the wall in the hallway, motioning for her to stay put. She shook her head angrily, but he motioned to her again and moved on his own towards the door.
Creeping quietly, he peered around the door frame and gasped silently. The room had been tossed. Furniture was overturned, pictures hung haphazardly on the walls, and bits and pieces of what remained of dishes were scattered on the floor. Ian hugged the wall as he moved from the front room, through the small kitchen, into what he assumed was the Father’s bedroom.
Father Jack lay on the floor, an angry red gash on his forehead. “Gillian,” Ian called, running towards Father Jack. “He’s in the bedroom.”
Ian knelt next to the older man, felt for a pulse and breathed a sigh of relief. His heart was still beating. He looked up as Gillian ran into the room. “He’s breathing,” he reported. “I’ll get some ice and give Sean a call to let him know we didn’t find Jamal.”
Nodding, Gillian knelt down next to the priest. “Aye, and after this is over, we’ll have words about your actions in the hallway,” she replied with an arched look in her eye. Then she looked turned her attention to Father Jack. “Father Jack. Can you hear me?”
He moaned softly and blinked open his eyes. “What…what happened?” he croaked.
“It looks like you might have had a run-in with a faerie,” she said.
His eyes widened. “Jamal,” he exclaimed, trying to sit up. “The faerie has him.”
Gillian held him down. “Ian is calling Sean right now,” she said. “And you need to stay put until we make sure you aren’t hurt.”
“Ian,” she called out. “Father Jack is conscious. He says the faerie has Jamal.”
“The other faerie has Jamal?” Sean called out as he and Em entered the priest’s apartment, pulling their faerie along with them. Sean threw the faerie against the wall. “Where did your friend take Jamal?” he demanded, clutching the clothing around the faerie’s neck in his grip.
The faerie shook his head. “You’ll not hear it from me,” he choked.
“Em, lend me your sword,” Sean said, holding his hand out, keeping his focus on the creature in front of him.
“Sean, where’s your sword?” Em asked.
Shrugging, Sean shook his head. “Up in the gym, where I left it,” he replied.
“You left it?” she cried. “Don’t you understand?”
Sean turned to her. “What?” he asked.
“It’s got magic,” she said. “Powerful magic that the fae would love to get into their hands.”
Sean closed his eyes for a moment. “Damn it,” he swore.
He pulled the faerie away from the wall and tossed him to the ground at Ian’s feet. “Watch him for me, will you?” he asked. “I think I know where the other faerie might be heading.”
Sean and Em ran out of the apartment and ran to the staircase to the third floor.
“He’s probably taken the sword and Jamal and escaped,” Gillian said.
“He would have had to pass by at least one of us on the way out,” Sean argued.
They reached the third floor in record time and dashed towards the gymnasium.
“Wait,” Em whispered. “If we go in through the front door, Jamal could be hurt.”
“What’s our choice?” Sean asked.
“There’s a balcony above the gym,” she said, pointing to a narrow set of stairs.
“Okay, you stay here and guard the door,” Sean said. “I’ll go up.”
“But you can’t fight a faerie,” she said. “You need more experience.”
He winked at her. “Nothing like on the job training,” he said, and then he quietly dashed up the stairs.
Em slid to the door and peeked into the room through the glass window. Jamal was in one corner of the room bound with rope. He was unhurt and conscious, but he also seemed scared to death. She wondered what in the world the fae would want with Jamal. By now, other humans had seen the Wild Hunt, so he really wasn’t a threat to them. She was considering that when a movement on the other side of the room caught her eyes.
He was older than the faerie they caught in the basement. His red hair was longer and the lines around his face more severe. He was slowly walking the parameter of the gym, pausing every few steps and sweeping the area with his own sword. Em sighed with relief as she realized the glamour spell she’d placed on the sword for Sean the night before had worked. The faerie could feel the power of the magic but hadn’t been able to find the sword.
Once upstairs, Sean slipped through the open door that led to the narrow balcony directly above the door Em had been peeking through. The balcony was filled with old gym equipment: extra mats piled on top of each other, a dozen or so deflated basketballs and volleyballs, an old volleyball net that was stained orange with rust and a couple aluminum baseball bats. The iron railings at the edge of the balcony were also used to tie the ends of some of the climbing ropes that were suspended from the ceiling of the gym. The thick ropes brought back memories of grade school gym class and hands and legs raw with rope burns from frantic relay races up to the top and down again.
Crouching low, he used the floor of the balcony as a blind and slid to the edge to peer down. Jamal was lying on a thin, cotton mat on one side of the gym, his legs and arms tied together. Turning his head, Sean saw the faerie on the other side of the gym waving a sword around and moving closer to Sean’s sword.
Some kind of weird faery dance? he wondered. Why the hell doesn’t he just pick it up?
Gauging the distance between the faerie and Jamal, Sean knew he’d only have a few moments to get down to the gym floor and stop the faerie before it could reach the boy. He glanced over the side. Crap! It was higher than he had anticipated. If he wanted to jump, he’d have to slide through the railings, hang from the side and then drop down to the gym floor.
Yeah, that’s not going to work.
He needed to act quickly and before the faerie left the other side of the gym.
Looking back to the old equipment, he smiled slightly. Maybe there was another option. Sliding along the tiled floor, Sean untied one of the lengths of rope from the railing and gave it a quick pull to be sure it was still sound. He tied a secure loop at the end and put his foot inside, pushing against it to make sure it would hold. Then he picked up one of the aluminum bats and stuck it securely underneath his arm.
Climbing onto the ledge, keeping his eyes on the faerie who was turned away from him, he placed his foot into the loop at the end of the rope and jumped.
He actually expected some kind of graceful swing—like in all of the pirate movies he’d seen. But instead, he just dropped towards the floor, nearly breaking his teeth at the sudden, jaw-jarring, jerking stop. Spinning around in a tight circle, he was relieved to discover that the rope descent had at least been quiet and the faerie was still dancing with his sword. He glanced over at Jamal as he spun around and saw that the boy’s eyes were widened in hope. When he spun past the gymnasium door however, he saw that Em’s eyes were filled with mirth.
Sliding a foot to the ground, he dismounted as ungracefully as he had descended and quietly stumbled onto the polished, gymnasium floor. Dashing towards the faerie, he set the bat in a line-drive stance over his right shoulder. As luck would have it, at the last moment the faerie turned, and Sean aimed the bat at the faerie’s face, swinging with all his might.
The bat connected, and the faerie fell back and slid several feet, blood spurting from his nose. Sean ran to the corner of the gym to retrieve his sword. He grabbed it and turned just in time to block the faerie’s parry, sword clanging against sword. Twisting to the side, Sean disengaged and attacked, using both arms and the same swing that gave him his stellar reputation in Chicago-style, 16-inch softball. He whipped his sword forward, using more power than technique. The faerie stumbled back, unprepared for such a physical attack. Sean continued knocking his opponent’s sword to the side with each parry, forcing the faerie back to the corner of the gym.
Finally, his back against the wall, the faerie dropped his sword and raised his hands over his head. “This is the sign, no?” the faerie gasped. “When someone in your culture admits defeat?”
Sean stared at the creature, his eyes hardened. “I wouldn’t know,” he growled, holding the sword to the neck of the creature.
He could feel the power from the sword coursing through his veins, could feel the bloodlust pounding with every heartbeat. It would be so simple, he thought, to just finish the job. One flick of my wrist and the creature would be destroyed at my hand. I would be like a god authorizing life or death.
What the hell? Sean shook his head. Where did that come from?
He looked up and saw the smile on the faerie’s face. “What? I’d forfeit my soul if I killed you?” Sean asked.
The faerie’s smile grew broader. “No, you would have more power,” the faerie whispered enticingly. “Think of it, human. You could rule the faery world. You could make us all do as you wished. You could have the mongrel.”
Sean shook his head, trying to clear fog from his brain. This could be a good thing, his inner voice whispered, ruling the faery world. Clearing up all this lawlessness. Protecting the people of the city. It’s just one death. And it’s not like he’s human.
“I would take the mongrel, if given the chance,” the faerie taunted, malice twinkling in his bright green eyes. “I would take her as my brother took her mother. I would use her, over and over and over again. And she would cry out my name, begging for more.”
Rage replaced reason. A vivid picture of Em writhing in passion below the faerie burned in his mind. Jealousy consumed him as he pulled back the sword, readying it for the mortal blow.
Chapter Forty
As soon as Sean appeared before her, swinging by a rope with a look of surprise on his face, Em didn’t know if she should be impressed or incredulous. What the hell was he thinking? Shaking her head, she realized it was just like the little boy back in Ireland who came running to help with no thought of his own safety. He wasn’t thinking.
“Sean to the rescue,” she muttered, allowing the humor of the situation to rest a moment in her eyes. But when she realized he was going to fight armed with only an aluminum baseball bat, the mirth left her eyes.
“Damn!” she whispered, knowing she couldn’t open the door for fear it would alert the faerie.
She heard the crack of the bat and jumped to action. Pulling the door open, she began to run in the direction of the fight but stopped in her tracks as she watched Sean outmaneuver and overpower his opponent. She stood, transfixed by the pure, male beauty of his movement. He was fighting like a warrior, all his power and concentration fixed upon the faerie who could do nothing but retreat. Em felt a strange mix of emotions—pride, exhilaration, fascination and desire. He was crushing one of her mortal enemies, and for the first time in her life, she felt she had a true champion and partner.
It took her a few moments to remember that Jamal was still tied up in the corner of the room. She dashed over to him and cut through the ropes that held him. Then she untied the gag over his mouth. “Are you okay?” she asked. “Did they hurt you?”
“No, I’m good,” Jamal replied, rubbing his arms and legs to get the circulation back. “But I was sure glad to see Sean jump down from the balcony.” He stretched to look around her to Sean. “I didn’t know he could fight like that.”
Em shook her head. “He can’t,” she replied automatically. Then she paused and looked over
her shoulder at Sean. He couldn’t fight like that! She was just fighting with him, and although he was strong, he wasn’t very skilled. That ancient faerie should have been a much greater opponent. It was almost as if—
Em looked back at Jamal. “Stay here,” she commanded, and then she lifted her sword and dashed across the room.
She couldn’t call out Sean’s name, didn’t want to distract him and give the faerie any chance to harm him. But she could tell by the malevolent gleam in the faerie’s eye that it was planning some kind of trick. Em had fought faeries long enough to understand their strength came more from their ability to manipulate their enemies minds than just from sheer fighting prowess.
She was only a few feet away when she heard the faerie threaten her. She saw the muscles in Sean’s hand tense and watched his hand pull back, his sword ready to take the faerie’s life, and she suddenly understood the plan. Jumping forward, she pushed Sean back with one hand and thrust her sword with the other, impaling the faerie through its heart. Immediately, the faerie burst into a thousand, tiny pieces of ash.
Furious, Sean stormed at her, his sword raised. “What the hell did you do?” he asked. “That was my kill.”
“Your kill, is it?” she countered, moving up and facing him. “And what happened to following the rules? Or does that only apply when I’m the angry one with the sword?”
“No,” Sean said, shaking his head and wondering why he felt so confused. “He was…I was…he deserved…” He looked up at Em, his face a study in confusion. “What the hell just happened?”
“The sword you now carry is Chrysaor,” she explained. “It was the sword of the Knight of Justice.”
Sean hefted the sword in his hand and then looked up at Em. “Yeah, you told me,” he said. “So?”
She took a deep breath. “So, it was testing you,” she said. “To see which you would choose. The faerie understood it and tried to get you to choose evil.”
“The sword was testing me?” he asked, more than a little skeptical. “Em, it’s a piece of metal. It takes orders from the hand that holds it.”