The Order of Brigid's Cross - The Wild Hunt (Book 1): The Wild Hunt

by Terri Reid

  “I don’t know,” he said with a shrug and then he named a date.

  “Dude, you’ve lost two weeks,” Sean said and then he turned to Ian. “What’s going on?”

  Ian scratched his head thoughtfully and finally replied. “Well, as near as I can guess, he’s been under faery control for the past few weeks,” he replied.

  “Okay, yeah, we already said he was hypnotized,” Sean inserted.

  Shaking his head, Ian leaned back against the table. “No, not hypnotism,” he said. “More like mind control.”

  “Like the Manchurian candidate?” Pete asked.

  “Well, yes and no,” Ian answered. “I’m guessing with faery it’s more of a collective thought process, connecting the lower level faeries’ minds with the higher level faeries’, so they are controlled.”

  “Like the Borg?” Sean asked.

  Ian smiled. “Aye, in a way,” he answered. “But I don’t think there is just one main computer system controlling them all; I believe that the Seelie court dominates the UnSeelies.”

  “Okay Professor, back up and come again,” Sean said. “I’m not sure I’m following you here.”

  Ian stood up and walked across the room to a large whiteboard. He picked up a black marker and drew a head. “So here we have a brain,” he said.

  “Looks more like a mushroom,” Sean commented.

  “You’re not helping,” Ian replied, shaking his head and turning back to the drawing and drawing a spinal cord. “The brain controls the rest of the body using electrical impulses that run through the nervous system. Got it?”

  The three men observing nodded and Ian smiled. “Good.”

  Then he drew a long arch from the head across to the other side of the board. “But what happens if the electrical impulses you’re receiving don’t come from your brain, but somewhere else. What happens if your impulses are superseded by something else?”

  “Can that happen?” Pete asked.

  “Aye, there was a recent study at the University of Washington where they could send one person’s thoughts through a computer to the mind of a second person and have the second person react to the thoughts of the person,” Ian replied. “And they were a half mile away from each other.”

  “But Skinny doesn’t have a computer hooked up to his brain,” Sean inserted.

  “No, you’re right,” Ian said. “But I think the fae are far more advanced than we are in this kind of thing, and they don’t need computers, just a willing mind. Which is how they are able to use glamour on us. It’s mini mind control. Their minds tell our minds what they want us to see and we see it.”

  “Well damn,” Pete said. “That makes a lot of sense.”

  “So, they controlled Adrian’s mind and got him to do the stuff he did,” Sean said. “So, now he’s not under their spell anymore.”

  Ian shook his head. “Right now, because of the iron in the helmet, I’ve blocked their access,” he said. “But I think that once the connection is made, it’s not easily broken.”

  “Does that mean I’m going to be under their spell for the rest of my life?” Adrian asked.

  Ian shrugged. “I don’t know the answer to that,” he said. “The stories that have been passed down tend to insinuate that once a mortal is under the influence of fae, they never quite get over it.”

  Sean thought about Em’s mother and the power one faerie had over her until she died of longing. “So, we’re just going to have to figure out how to break the connection,” he said with determination. “That’s all.”

  Then he walked over to his friend and tapped on the helmet. “Or you’re going to have really bad helmet hair for the rest of your life.”

  “Funny, Irish, real funny,” Adrian replied. “But, really, what do I do now?”

  “Well, before you do anything else,” Ian said, “I want to hypnotize you.”

  “Wait. What?” Sean asked. “I thought you said this wasn’t hypnotism.”

  “It’s not,” Ian said. “But right now your friend has information in his mind that he might not be able to get to because he’s not under their influence. Information that might help us find out where the next attack is going to occur.”

  Adrian turned to face Sean. “What the hell did I do when I was under their control?” he asked. “What the hell is going on?”

  Placing his hand on his friend’s shoulder, Sean patted it gently. “Yeah, once Ian gets his information, we’ll have a long conversation,” he said. “I promise. Are you okay with us taking a peek under the lid?”

  A slight smile appeared on Adrian’s lips. “Yeah, go ahead,” he said, leaning back in the chair. “Just don’t go probing where you don’t belong.”

  “Oh, you mean that crush you’ve had on me since you first saw me?” Sean teased. “Don’t worry, that’s perfectly normal. I’m damn near irresistible.”

  Chapter Fifty-three

  “Irresistible!” Em moaned softly, her eyes closed in pure ecstasy. She lifted the teaspoon to her mouth and licked off the remaining cookie dough. “I have never tasted anything so delicious.”

  “Yeah, Grandma makes sick cookies,” Jamal added.

  “Sick?” Mrs. Gage asked, her face tightened in disapproval. “Boy, my cookies never made no one sick.”

  Jamal grinned. “No, Grandma, sick don’t mean that anymore,” he explained. “Sick means good. Real good.”

  “Then why didn’t you say good?” Mrs. Gage asked, shaking her wooden spoon in Jamal’s direction. “Don’t make no sense to change the meaning of a word what’s been around for hundreds of years.” Shaking her head, she turned back to her mixing bowl. “Don’t know what’s wrong with people today.”

  Em winked at Jamal and moved closer to Mrs. Gage, peeking over her shoulder into the bowl. Mrs. Gage looked back at Em and lifted her eyebrows. “Something you looking for?” she asked.

  Em nodded. “Yes, I wanted to see if you put any magic in there,” she teased.

  Mrs. Gage’s jaw dropped for a moment and her eyes widened in surprise, but Em had already turned to smile at Jamal and didn’t see the shock in the older woman’s face. Mrs. Gage took a quick recovery breath and pasted a smile on her face while she held her trembling hands together to steady them. “I don’t need any magic for my cookies,” she replied with a slightly shaky voice. “I’ve got skills.”

  Jamal chuckled. “Yeah, that’s right,” he said. “Grandma got skills.”

  Em studied Mrs. Gage for a moment and placed her hand on the woman’s shoulder. “Mrs. Gage, you look a little tired,” she said. “Do you need to sit down?”

  Shaking her head, Mrs. Gage turned back to the cookie dough. “Oh, no, dear, but thank you for your concern,” she said. “I just want to get these on cookie sheets and into the oven.”

  “Jamal and I can do that,” Em said, glancing over to Jamal and noting his agreement. “You’ve been through an awful lot today with everything that’s gone on. It’s amazing that you are still standing on your feet.”

  Wrapping her arm around Mrs. Gage’s shoulders, Em gently urged her away from the counter and back towards the living area. She guided her to a small, overstuffed chair and helped her sit down. “You sit down and I’ll make you a cup of tea,” she said. “And just rest for a little bit.”

  Once seated, Mrs. Gage was surprised at how tired she actually felt. “Are you sure you can handle baking the cookies?” she asked.

  “Of course I can,” she said with more confidence than she felt. “And Jamal can show me how to put cookies on a sheet.”

  It was Mrs. Gage’s turn to be suspicious. “You do know what a cookie sheet is, don’t you?” she asked.

  Em smiled and nodded nervously. “Of course I know what a sheet is,” she replied. “I sleep on a bed, don’t I?”

  Jamal laughed out loud, but when his grandmother shot him a warning look, he covered his mouth with his hand and tried to muffle his mirth.

  “What?” Em asked, looking from grandson to grandmother.

&
nbsp; “Cookie sheets are thin, flat, baking pans,” Mrs. Gage said. “Didn’t your mother ever teach you to cook, child?”

  “My mother died when I was a child,” Em replied softly.

  Mrs. Gage grabbed the arms of the chair and started to stand up but found her strength was spent. She slowly lowered herself back into the chair and stretched out her hands towards Em. “Come here, honey,” she insisted.

  “I’m fine,” Em insisted, shaking her head and stepping back. “It was a long time ago.”

  “Don’t matter how long ago it was,” Mrs. Gage insisted. “When you lose a member of your family, the pain never totally goes away.”

  Shrugging, Em tried to brush it off and was surprised to discover a tear sliding down her cheek. She quickly whisked it away with her hand, but Mrs. Gage met her eyes and shook her head. “Child, you come over to me right now or I promise you I will chase you across this apartment.”

  Hesitantly, Em moved towards her and allowed her hands to be enfolded into a pair of fragile, soft ones. “I’m so sorry,” Mrs. Gage said, her eyes filled with sympathy and understanding. “I know what it’s like to lose someone you loved.”

  Em took a deep, shaky breath. “I didn’t love her,” she insisted, wiping away another tear. “She never loved me. She didn’t even realize I was alive.”

  Mrs. Gage shook her head. “I don’t know what happened when you were a child,” she said, “but I do know you wanted your mother’s love. It’s only human.”

  “But you see, that’s where you have it wrong,” Em said, gently pulling her hands away from the elderly woman. “I am anything but human.”

  Chapter Fifty-four

  Ian, Sean and Pete surrounded the chair where Adrian was breathing deeply and in a deep hypnotic trance.

  “Well, he’s under,” Ian whispered to Sean and Pete. “Is there anything specific you want me to find out?”

  “Who the hell did this to him,” Sean said, the teasing tone gone from his voice, “and where he lives.”

  Ian nodded. “I’ll see what I can do,” he said.

  “And more importantly,” Pete added, “what the next steps are in their plan.”

  “Aye, I think that’s where I’m going to go first,” he said.

  He turned to Adrian. “Adrian, I want you to think back to your first meeting about two weeks ago with the person who wanted to help you with the gangs in Chicago,” Ian said. “Can you remember that night?”

  Adrian nodded slowly.

  “Good,” Ian said. “Do you know that person? Have you met him before?”

  Adrian nodded again.

  “Good,” Ian replied. “Who is it?”

  “Captain Douglas,” Adrian said softly. “It’s Captain Douglas.”

  “What the…,” Sean whispered harshly. “It can’t be Douglas, he’s one of us. He’s one of the good guys.”

  Pete put his hand on Sean’s arm. “Remember about glamour,” he reminded Sean. “They could have used Captain Douglas’s face in order to influence Adrian.”

  Sean nodded. “Yeah man, you’re right,” he said with a deep breath. “Sorry, Ian.”

  “No problem, Sean,” he replied. “And I think Pete has the right of it. What better person to use than a trusted superior?”

  Ian turned back to Adrian. “What did Captain Douglas say to you?” he asked.

  “He told me that he had a new weapon in the war against drugs,” Adrian replied. “That it was an army of warriors that could tell good folk from evil folk. That it could stop the bad guys and no one else would get hurt.”

  “And what did you think?”

  “Well, at first, you know, I thought it was crazy because we can’t let people get hurt, even if they’ve done bad things,” Adrian said. “But the captain said he’d cleared it with a judge and the mayor. They were all for it. He said it would save lives, hundreds of lives. And all I had to do was work with the group.”

  “What’s the name of the group?” Ian asked.

  “The Hunt,” Adrian answered. “He gave me this connection, like this mind thing, and I could call on them to be at gang wars to stop them. To save kids from being killed.”

  “What dates did you give them?” Ian asked.

  Adrian repeated the dates of the last two attacks and then added one more.

  “That’s two days from now,” Sean said, moving up and putting his hand on Ian’s shoulder. “Find out when and where.”

  “And where were the Hunt supposed to show up?” Ian asked.

  Adrian supplied the parks that had hosted the last two attacks and then he paused.

  “Adrian, the next one,” Ian said. “The one that’s scheduled in the future. Where is that going to be held?”

  Adrian shook his head. “That’s a special one,” he said. “It’s supposed to be a big surprise. The captain said he didn’t want me to tell anyone about it.”

  “But you already told the Hunt about it?” Ian asked.

  “Yes, sir,” Adrian replied. “I’m their Summoner. I’m the only one they listen to.”

  “Well, then, you can tell me,” Ian said, “because I’m your trusted friend.”

  “Are you?” Adrian asked, cocking his head to the side.

  “Aye,” Ian said. “I am.”

  Adrian shook his head. “No, I can’t trust you,” he said. “The captain told me not to trust anyone. This one is too special. This one will show everyone how much power we have.”

  Sean stepped up and glanced at Ian, silently asking permission to try. With a quick nod of his head, Ian stepped back and gave Sean access.

  “Hey, Skinny,” Sean said.

  A smile grew on Adrian’s face. “Hey, Irish,” he replied.

  “Hey, I got a problem, and I’m hoping you can help me,” Sean said. “I know the captain is working on something big and he’s put you in charge.”

  “Yeah, Sean,” Adrian replied, his voice enthused. “He said he trusted me to do it.”

  “Well, I know he couldn’t have picked a better man for the job,” Sean said.

  “Hey, thanks man, that really means a lot coming from you,” Adrian said.

  “Okay, here’s the deal,” Sean said. “You’re the Summoner and everything, but I’m supposed to be, um, I’m supposed to be your…”

  “Champion,” Ian whispered. “That’s a trusted friend.”

  “Yeah, right, your champion,” Sean said. “Did the cap mention that to you?”

  Adrian shook his head. “No, he didn’t.”

  “Well, damn,” Sean said. “‘Cause I kind of forgot where I was supposed to be for this big deal event, and the cap is not going to be too happy about this.”

  “You know about Grant Park?” Adrian asked.

  Sean’s eyes widened when Adrian mentioned the most popular park in the city’s downtown district. “Yeah, of course I know,” he lied. “Like I said, the cap asked me to be your champion. You’re the guy in charge, and I get the coffee and donuts.”

  Adrian chuckled. “I’m surprised you’re not getting the beer and pretzels, Irish.”

  Sean nodded and tried to lighten his voice. “Well, yeah, those are for the victory celebration afterwards.”

  “Yeah, it’s going to be so cool,” Adrian replied. “All those kids watching, seeing justice and honor before them. It’s going to make a lasting impression.”

  “Yeah, I know it will,” Sean agreed. “Especially for those kids. Do you remember how many kids?”

  “Yeah, the cap told me over a thousand grammar school kids are going to be there,” Adrian replied. “Didn’t he tell you?”

  “He told me that you’d give me the details, because you were lead on this one,” Sean said.

  Pete rolled up next to Sean and handed him his tablet. “This is not good,” he whispered.

  Sean looked down at the screen, and his heart dropped. In two days’ time, in Grant Park, a Children’s Music Festival was being held. Children’s choirs from all over the city would be participating at the Gra
nt Park band shell.

  Taking a deep, unsteady breath before he spoke again, Sean tried to make his voice light. “So, do you want me to meet you at the band shell?” he asked.

  Adrian shook his head. “No, that’s too close to the action,” he replied. “The cap said it would be better to just let the Hunt do their work and then appear after they’re done, like the other times.”

  Sean felt physically ill, picturing what the Hunt would do to all of those children. “Why did the cap say we were doing this one?” he asked. “These kids aren’t gang members.”

  “Oh, he told me this was to help the mayor understand the strength of our new program,” Adrian replied. “He said this will be like nothing Chicago’s ever seen.”

  “So, what happens if it rains?” Sean asked. “Can we cancel the demonstration?”

  Adrian shook his head. “No. Once the Hunt has been called, they can’t be stopped.”

  Chapter Fifty-five

  “We’ve got to call off this event,” Sean said. “We’ve got to alert the mayor’s office and call the whole damn thing off.”

  “Yeah, that will work,” Pete said. “You’ll be thrown into a looney bin.”

  “How about if we say there’s a terrorist threat?” Adrian suggested.

  Pete shook his head. “They’ll just call in more security,” he said.

  “More people to get killed,” Sean said. “We’ve just got to stop this.”

  Adrian dropped his head into his hands. “Oh, man, Sean, I am so sorry,” he said. “It’s all my fault.”

  Sean put his hand on his friend’s arm. “No, it’s not your fault,” he said. “They used and manipulated you. You are as much a victim as anyone else.”

  “Yeah, but how do I keep from falling into their trap again?” he asked. “I really believed I saw the captain.”

  Ian walked over to the table and picked up a small, plastic, spray bottle. “Actually, I was going to talk to Sean about this when he came in. It’s an herbal mixture that’s sprayed into your eyes to reveal the truth behind any faery glamour.”