by Donna Grant
There had been such honesty in his eyes when he spoke to her. She’d believed everything he said, taking him at his word. How could she have been so wrong?
“Daire!” she screamed as she raised her head.
She wanted answers. And he would give them to her.
“Daire! Show yourself, now!”
Through the tears, she looked around the room, waiting for him to show himself. But the seconds turned to minutes. That’s when she knew, the Reapers weren’t going to help her. They’d seen that they couldn’t beat Bran, so they’d retreated to fight another day.
Leaving her to match wits and brawn with a madman out to wipe them and Death from existence.
Ettie sniffed. She dropped her head back against the wall and hugged her knees to her chest. Bran felt sure of a win. So sure, in fact, that he hadn’t given her options.
Most people might think that meant they were beaten. But, then again, Ettie wasn’t most people. It wasn’t only her body that had been trained to fight, her mind had, as well. Because the strongest opponent could be brought down by a slower, weaker foe when they used their minds.
The fact that Bran didn’t give her alternatives meant that he needed to have everything she owned. He wouldn’t settle for less. But why?
He was Fae. He could get whatever vehicle, house, or land he wanted.
Unless . . . there was something else he searched for.
Ettie wiped away her tears and jumped to her feet. She only had a few hours to look through every room in the house to find what it was Bran wanted. It would be her only bargaining chip.
Chapter Sixteen
The universe was against him. Daire bellowed his fury as he struck the shield Bran had constructed around Ettie and the cottage with both magic and his fists.
And he wasn’t the only one.
The Reapers—sans Cael—were doing the same, but not causing a dent in Bran’s magic. Making the situation even worse was the smirk on Bran’s face because he could see them trying to get in.
But, apparently, Ettie couldn’t.
It might have been a blessing that Daire couldn’t hear what Bran said to her, but Daire would’ve given anything to have her see him trying to get to her.
“Ettie!” he yelled again as both Carrie and Jamie were taken by Bran’s men.
Fintan slammed his fist into the dome, causing it to tremble. “I really want to kill that son of a bitch.”
“Ditto,” Neve said from the other side of the shield.
Daire ignored them as he tried to read Bran’s lips. He couldn’t understand the words, but he got the gist of it—Bran had given Ettie an ultimatum.
“What the feck,” Cael grumbled as he appeared.
Daire threw another blast of magic at the dome. He had to get to Ettie. He feared that she believed he had left her alone to deal with Bran. Surely, she’d know he would keep his word.
Daire paused. How could she? Ettie barely knew him. He’d dumped tons of information on her and made it so she had to trust him. And now look. Her enemy confronted her, and Daire wasn’t there to help.
The unfairness of the situation reminded Daire of what had happened when he discovered that his old gang murdered his family. He’d sworn never to feel that helpless, that powerless again.
No. History wasn’t going to repeat itself. He’d promised to protect Ettie, and he would. Even if it cost him his life.
“Ettie!” he roared and punched the dome again and again, adding more magic each time.
Suddenly, he was hauled away, only to be tossed flat on his back with a brutal yank. He shoved away hands and tried to get to his feet. Why couldn’t anyone understand that he had to get to Ettie?
“We know!” Cael shouted, his face above his.
Daire pushed at the hands, again to no avail. He didn’t care what he was fighting. Soon, he wasn’t able to move at all. After several more attempts, he closed his eyes, struggling for the strength to remove whatever was holding him.
“Open your fekking eyes, Daire. Look at us,” Kyran said.
Confused, Daire lifted his lids. He moved his gaze in a circle around him to see all six Reapers holding him down.
Cael blew out a breath. “We’re going to get to Ettie, but we need to work as a team. That means you need to control yourself.”
“Let me up,” Daire demanded.
“Can you control your rage?”
Daire gave a nod.
Fintan snorted loudly as he let go and stepped away. “And you all wonder why I buried my emotions.”
Cael was the last to release him. As soon as he did, Daire jumped to his feet.
He looked for Ettie. “Where is she?”
“In the house,” Neve said.
Daire raked his hand through his hair and dropped his chin to his chest. “How did Bran know we were here?”
“How does he ever know?” Baylon asked sarcastically.
Talin crossed his arms over his chest. “We need to get this shield down so we can talk to Ettie and figure out what’s going on.”
“Our magic is doing nothing. We need Death,” Fintan added.
Cael was shaking his head as Fintan spoke. “We’ll have to do this without her.”
Daire jerked his head to Cael. “Did you talk to her? Does she know about the black sword?”
“No.” Cael then turned to the dome and tested it with his magic.
Daire wasn’t going to take that simple answer. He stalked to Cael and shoved at his shoulder. “What do you mean ‘no?’”
“Just that. Death wasn’t there.”
It was the flash of anger and something . . . more . . . in Cael’s eyes that stopped Daire from saying anything else. He didn’t know what had happened—or didn’t happen—with Death, but Cael’s fury went deep.
Cael looked from him to each of the Reapers. “Bran has hurt all of us in some way. He intends to do more by killing Death and then us. Everything you’re feeling, all that you are suffering, take it. Mold it into a weapon. One that you can turn on Bran.”
“But we can’t harm him,” Neve said.
Daire called to his sword. As soon as the weight of it filled his palm, he twisted his wrist, sending the weapon dancing around him. “Then we try harder. As one. Just as Cael said.”
Swords appeared in each Reaper’s hand. They stood, huddled together. Cael was the first to put the tip of his blade against the dome. Daire quickly moved beside him and put his weapon next to Cael’s. The others followed suit.
Then Cael pushed his magic along the blade and into the shield. Daire and the others took the cue and repeated his steps. Almost immediately, they could feel the dome shaking. And then it cracked.
“Harder!” Cael shouted.
Daire gritted his teeth and thrust his blade and magic into the crack with the others. The shield flickered a few times and then vanished.
He wasted no time rushing into the cottage and shouting Ettie’s name. When there was no answer, he grew frantic while searching each room. Then he found her in Carrie’s closet, searching through boxes.
“Thank the stars,” he said and leaned against the doorway. His relief was so great that he was weak with it. “Ettie, please stop. There’s much we need to discuss.”
He frowned when she didn’t so much as look his way. Daire pushed away from the door and walked to her. As soon as his hand touched her shoulder, she jerked away.
That stung, but it was nothing compared to the contempt in her gaze when she swung her head to him.
“Ettie,” he began.
“Get out,” she said over him.
He shook his head. “Not until you listen to what I have to say.”
“Why? Because you were here when Bran took my sisters.”
“I was, actually.” Daire heard the others in the hallway behind him, but this was something between him and Ettie.
She curled her lip at him as she jumped to her feet. “Really? I so appreciate the help. Especially when I called for you.”
> “For the past several hours, we’ve been trying to break down a dome Bran put up, preventing us from getting to you. That was after his magic blasted me from your side when he arrived.”
Ettie crossed her arms over her chest. “That’s convenient.”
“It’s the truth,” Cael said from behind him.
Daire looked into her deep blue eyes. “I’d never betray you. Somehow, Bran knew we were here, and he took actions that would make you turn against us. He made it so we wouldn’t be able to come to your aid, which in turn made it appear as if we left you on your own with him.”
“He took Jamie and Carrie,” she said.
He found himself reaching for her, but he dropped his arm at the last moment because he couldn’t take her pulling away from him again. “We saw. We saw everything, and he could see us. But you couldn’t.”
“Or you could be lying about the dome. You could’ve watched it all, using me to see what he wanted.”
“We couldn’t hear him,” Daire corrected her. “And if we were going to use you as bait, we would’ve told you.”
She looked out the window. “I don’t have time for this. You need to leave.”
No way was Daire giving up that easily. “Bran is a liar. Whatever he promised you, he won’t keep his end of the bargain.”
“How did he know we were here?” Cael asked as he came into the room.
She lifted one shoulder. “How am I supposed to know?”
“Did he ask about us?” Daire inquired.
Ettie was silent for a moment. “He asked if it was Cael who promised to protect me.”
“Dammit,” Cael said and turned away.
Daire saw Ettie’s questioning look and said, “Bran didn’t know we were here. He used his magic and the shield as a safeguard. Then he mentioned us. The fact that he didn’t know it was me means he didn’t have a clue we were here.”
“Until I confirmed his suspicions.” Her face crumpled as her arms dropped to her side.
Neve said, “He does this to everyone, Ettie. Don’t take it personally.”
Ettie’s face was lined with hope as she looked at him. “Were you really prohibited from getting to me?”
“We want Bran dead. We’ve no reason to lie to you,” Daire told her. “Bran manipulates and lies. You can’t trust him.”
She licked her lips and drew in a shuddering breath. “He took my sisters so that I’d turn over the property, the cottage, and everything in it. He said I could only leave with the clothes on my back.”
“Just when I didn’t think I could hate the asshole more,” Baylon grumbled.
Fintan grunted in reply.
Daire turned to the side to see the others as well as Ettie. “Bran wants something here.”
“That’s what I think, as well,” Ettie said. “I’ve been searching the rooms to see if I could find it, but I’ve come up with nothing.”
Cael waved his hand at her words. “It’ll be magical.”
“The dirt?” Ettie asked.
Daire shook his head. “There isn’t enough magic in it.”
“Then I don’t know,” she said in frustration.
Kyran grinned and winked at her. “Guess it’s a good thing you’ve got Reapers as friends.”
“Spread out over the cottage and buildings,” Daire said.
Cael gave Ettie a nod. “If it’s here, we’ll find it.”
Daire started to follow the others when Ettie’s hand stopped him. He turned to her, and with only a small hesitation, she flew into his arms.
He held her tightly, his eyes closing at the feeling of her against him. “I was ready to move Heaven and Earth to get to you.”
“Bran was so convincing,” she murmured.
“We’ll face him together next time.”
She lifted her head to look at him. “He’s coming here at sunset. I’m supposed to sign over everything in exchange for my sisters then.”
“We’ll figure something out so you don’t lose your home.”
“I’d rather have my sisters.”
He cupped her face. “I’ll do everything I can to save them.”
“I didn’t say that you were here, but I didn’t say you weren’t. Maybe if I had, Bran wouldn’t have known.”
“Don’t,” Daire told her. “I dropped my veil and attacked the dome while he was talking to you. He saw me. It doesn’t matter how he found out, Bran knows now.”
She drew in a deep breath. “It changes things, doesn’t it?”
“It means the element of surprise we wanted is gone, but we’re not giving up. So don’t give up on me.”
“I did.”
“And you had every right to,” he told her.
She shook her head, frowning. “I shouldn’t have, and I’m sorry.”
“We’re in this together, remember? Because if we fail, then it isn’t just the Fae who will feel the repercussions, Halflings and mortals will, as well.”
She looked up at him apologetically. “I didn’t think about that. If I had—”
He put a finger to her lips. “Stop talking and kiss me.”
Her smile was slow as the worry fell from her face. She pulled his head down as she rose up on her toes and pressed her lips against his.
As their tongues dueled and the flames of desire lapped at him, Daire realized something that he prayed Bran didn’t know—that he’d fallen for the warrior Halfling.
Chapter Seventeen
He was so close. Closer than ever. Bran could practically taste the victory. Though he’d dreamed of being the one to deliver the killing blow to Death, he’d come to terms with the fact that someone else would have to do it.
That wasn’t the case any longer.
He lovingly ran a finger along the weathered page with its eloquent writing as he sat in a chair in the master bedroom. The burned edges with a piece of the lower right corner missing wordlessly spoke of how someone had attempted to get rid of the evidence.
It was the drawing on the upper left side that had caught his attention. The first time he’d read the page, he didn’t realize it had been written by Death herself.
The sheet had been torn from a journal where Death poured her heart out and wrote of being the Mistress of War. Even now, the drawing of her called to him on a primal level.
Her long, black hair was pulled away from her face to fall down her back. She wore armor from her elbows to her waist that glittered with gold, silver, and black. It wasn’t bulky, but thin and made just for her. It hugged her body, showing off all her feminine assets while allowing her to move freely.
A black leather skirt that hung to mid-thigh had strips of chainmail and armor falling from her waist. Gold gauntlets covered her wrists and the backs of her hands while black boots encased her lower legs up to her knees.
And in her hand was a black sword that looked as if smoke were billowing from it.
This had been Death before she turned into the serene being she was now. As laughable as that was, the page with her words and the drawing allowed him to extract her magic.
He hadn’t realized it at first, but the moment Bran felt the power fill him, he’d known the cause. Every time he looked at the picture or read her writing, he got more of her magic. It was a wonderful, thrilling thing. Which was why no one else knew of the sheet—not even Searlas.
There was no way the Reapers or Death would ever figure out how he was stealing her power. Only as he stood over Erith, holding her black sword to strike his deathblow, would he tell her how her downfall came to be.
He couldn’t wait until that moment. It wouldn’t bring back his love, but it was the first step in his quest for vengeance. Death’s rules had been pointless. He’d lost the woman he loved, as well as his own freedom, only to discover that Erith had changed the rules for her new Reapers.
They were now allowed to not only marry but also bring their women into the fold. For that, Death would watch each of her Reapers die slow, painful deaths. Cael would be last.
&
nbsp; It was only fitting that the Fae she’d chosen as the leader of the Reapers would be helpless to stop his own death—and hers.
Bran closed his eyes, picturing it all unfolding in his mind. Then he took a deep breath and opened his eyes while he made the page vanish.
He heard a commotion downstairs and rose to his feet. Opening the door, he listened as the O’Byrne sisters yelled obscenities at his men. Bran smiled at their spunk and descended the stairs where they were being held in the library.
“Enough,” he bellowed as he strode in.
The sisters turned their gazes to him. If looks could kill, he would’ve been charred on the spot. There was no doubt they were of his blood.
“You bastard,” Jamie said between clenched teeth.
He stopped before them. His magic alone held them to their chairs, preventing them from moving. While he controlled their bodies, he hadn’t done the same with their mouths.
“If you don’t stop the infernal screaming, I will make it so you can’t speak,” he threatened.
Carrie threw him a condemning look. “Enjoy this power while you can because it won’t last.”
“Why?” he asked. “Because the Reapers are helping you?”
Jamie barked in laughter. “Because we’re going to kill you.”
“I think not.”
“Let me up,” Carrie said. “Try fighting me.”
Bran wasn’t stupid. He wasn’t going to test the Halflings. Not after what had happened with Catriona. “You’ll only be here a few more hours. Then, if your sister does what she’s supposed to, you’ll be released to her.”
“That’s not what you promised me,” Searlas said as he fingered Carrie’s long, blond hair.
“After they’re returned, she’s all yours,” he said. “It’s not as if they can stop you.”
Carrie jerked her head away from Searlas while Jamie glared in Bran’s direction.
“It’s always difficult for anyone to realize they’re prisoners,” Bran stated.
Jamie asked, “What are you having Ettie do?”
“Nothing, really. She’s signing over the deed to the land and house as well as everything within it to me. In return, I’ll hand you to her. Then, the three of you are on your own.”