Cridhe sent out spells of great power in every direction, attempting to fight things that were not there. As with Eilidh’s warriors, when he would defeat one nightmare, another would take its place. Then Cridhe did something unexpected. Even Eilidh didn’t believe she had the mental strength to do what he did, but Cridhe gathered all of his power and ignored the nightmares even as they began to attack and devour him. He looked directly at Beniss with all the hate and malice a faerie of his ability could possess, and he uttered one word, “Boil.”
Although it appeared to drain Cridhe, his spell hit home. Beniss’ skin turned red as a cherry, and she bled from every pore. She glanced over her shoulder and met Eilidh’s eyes. Tears of blood streaked down her face. The nightmares around Cridhe exploded and disappeared as she died, her blood splattering in every direction.
Grief overwhelmed Eilidh as three of the people she cared most about lay dead or dying at her feet. Their plan had been for Saor to annoy and distract Cridhe, Eilidh to tire him, while Beniss finished him off with his own nightmares. His blood magic made him difficult to kill with physical force, and they thought his greatest weakness would be the mind. But his insanity provided him with a shroud of protection.
Only Eilidh was left to fight, and she only had one weapon left, one chance, even though it would cost her most dearly. She looked to Munro and said, “Forgive me.” Although she could not be sure he could still understand her, she hoped he knew how much he had come to mean to her and that she did not make the sacrifice lightly.
She began to draw from him. Their bond gave her access to the earth magic that had always eluded her. She drank in his essence, knowing that as she did, she also took what little strength he had left.
As the connection deepened, Eilidh felt the power welling within her. Everything before had happened quickly, but now Eilidh felt the world slow. The trees surrounding the clearing stood on their roots. His battle with Beniss had drained Cridhe, but he was not yet done. He lifted a hand to bat away the illusions, and a shock spread over his face as he realised it was no illusion. Rocks rose off the ground and hurtled at him. Lightning flashed, and thunder sounded with a hollow boom. A ring of fire sprouted in the clearing.
For the first time, fear appeared on the blood faerie’s face. As one unit, four trees lurched forward, trapping Cridhe in a wooden embrace. Eilidh screamed at Cridhe as she felt Munro’s life force begin to dwindle and the power he lent her waned. “Damn you!” A string of ancient fae words flew from her lips. Each incantation sent tongues of fire at Cridhe. The sounds he made as he died would haunt Eilidh for centuries.
Eilidh went to her knees, exhausted. She never imagined it was possible to harness so much power, or lose so much in so short a time. All was still, and Eilidh wept.
Chapter 20
“Get the bolt cutters after that gate. We’ll need an ambulance all the way up here.”
“What the hell happened here? Who are these people?”
“Eilidh? Is that you?”
“Can you hear me?”
“He’s alive.”
“Madam, you need to let us help him.”
“Dem’ontar-che.”
A mask was fitted over Munro’s face, sending cool sweet air into his lungs. Voices continued to drift in and out.
He was lifted and handled, but he did not have the strength or desire to fight them. He heard Hallward and Getty in the crowded mix of voices. All he could think about was how he would explain things. He tried to speak, but a man’s voice said, “Calm down, son. Everything’s okay now. You’re going to be all right.” Munro stopped fighting. He didn’t know what he would have said anyway.
He opened his eyes. He was inside an ambulance. Eilidh was nowhere in sight, but he could sense her. She was tired and grieving, but alive, and that was more than he had hoped for.
Before Munro could refuse, the paramedic said, “Quick scratch,” and injected something into his arm. Within seconds, Munro’s pain and confusion eased. Warm darkness enveloped him.
When he opened his eyes again, he blinked at the glaring lights in a hospital room. Eilidh sat by his side in her human guise, muttering words in a language he did not understand. Getty was there too, sprawled across two uncomfortable-looking wooden chairs and covered by a hospital blanket.
Munro smiled, tentatively at first, and then more widely when he realised he didn’t hurt. When Eilidh opened her eyes and smiled at him, warmth spread through his body.
“Quinton.”
He loved the way she said his name. “What day is it?” he asked.
“The Equinox passed seven moonrises ago.”
Munro laughed, suddenly not caring what day it was, happy to be alive. The memory of what had been done to him came crashing back. He lifted a hand to his chest. He was surprised to find no bandages, only skin rippled with twisted scars. “But…”
“It turns out the azuri fae were mistaken when they said there would be little benefit to you from the bonding. Everyone is astonished at how well you have healed, including me. I feared I had taken all of your strength. I thought you might not come back.” A single tear slid down her rosy cheek.
“Hey, now. None of that.” He wiped the tear away with his thumb. “You’ll have to fill me in on what happened. I seem to have passed out.” He grinned. “Sorry about that. I wasn’t much use.”
Eilidh knitted her eyebrows together. “Quinton, that isn’t true. I could not have defeated the blood faerie without your strength and without your earth magic. The words were mine, but the power was yours.” Once she seemed reassured that Munro was taking enough of the credit for the magic that had put an end to Cridhe, she went over the details, filling in the blank spots where he could not remember or had not been aware. When she came to the end of the story, Munro realised Getty had woken up and was listening intently.
“That’s some story,” Getty said, and hesitated as though choosing his words carefully. “It’s the sort of thing a man would be tempted to not believe. I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen the things I saw. The bodies, they weren’t…”
“Human,” Munro finished for him. “I know. It was hard for me to believe at first too.”
Getty cast a furtive glance at Eilidh, as though he were afraid to meet her eyes. “You look different.”
Eilidh smiled and wrinkled her nose. When she did, the illusion of humanity disappeared, but only for a moment. After the flash of reality, her curly ears became rounded again, and she again appeared human once more.
Getty gasped with surprise. He seemed as though he still wasn’t quite ready to accept that some things were not as they appeared. Munro understood the feeling.
“What’s the official word about all of this?” Munro couldn’t imagine the report on what happened at Abernethy.
“You should have seen Hallward.” Getty grinned. “He took it all in stride, like seeing unusual people, fireballs, and human sacrifice was an everyday thing. I hate to imagine what it would take to rattle that guy.” Getty turned serious. “It was Frankie who called me, you know. It didn’t make a lot of sense at the time, him calling from your phone. He was pretty panicked. But he said you were in trouble and we should bring the cavalry. He also said it was all his fault.”
“He must have taken my phone after he hit me in the head with that damned plank.”
“What’d he do that for?” Getty looked baffled.
“Cridhe, that was the blood faerie’s…the killer’s name, had just cast a spell that lit a fire in my throat. Literally. I guess it was the only thing Frankie could think of—knocking me out. It did the trick though, because Cridhe stopped after that.”
“The blood…” Getty couldn’t finish.
“Faerie. I know. Didn’t Eilidh explain everything?”
Getty nodded at her. “She tried.”
“They did not seem to believe me.” Eilidh frowned.
Munro grinned. “I can understand that. I hardly believe it myself.”
“I sh
ould call Hallward,” Getty said. “He wanted to know as soon as you woke up. The official report says it was some kind of nutter cult that did the killings. The media is all in a frenzy, of course, but at least it has them looking in the wrong direction. I’ve seen all kinds of so-called experts on cults and Satanism on the BBC ever since the media officer released a statement.”
“I suppose Hallward will be bitching that I’m not at work,” Munro said with a laugh. “He never has approved of sick leave, and I think I’ve taken more in the last month than I have my entire time on the job.”
“I wouldn’t worry too much,” Getty said. “I think having your heart almost ripped out by a cult is enough to warrant some time off. Hell, you could probably retire on medical disability if you wanted to.”
“I’m not sure what I want to do. Part of that will depend on Eilidh.”
Getty stood. “I’d best leave you two to discuss it then.” He said goodbye and promised to visit Munro again soon.
Eilidh looked toward the door. “I do not think he believes us still.”
Munro chuckled. “I think he’s trying. I’m not in a straightjacket, so that’s a start.” He smiled at Eilidh. Because of the bond, he could sense her emotions. She was relieved and even relaxed, but he also detected apprehension. “What else is bothering you?”
“I have a difficult journey to make. After Cridhe’s death, I received word from the conclave. They observed what happened in the woods. They said because I fought against the blood faerie and defended Saor and his companions, they would welcome me again into the Halls of Mist.”
Munro expected such news would make her happy, but Eilidh seemed distinctly sad. He waited for her to continue.
“Saor would have been so pleased. It was all he would have wanted. I could have returned, and we could have been together.”
The thought of Eilidh with Saor sent a stab of pain through Munro, but then he realised what she’d said. “Saor didn’t make it?”
“None of them survived. Only you and I remain. If it had not been for our bond, we would not have lived.”
“Then we have a lot to be grateful for. So you loved him?”
“Once, yes. Things changed, and I think he even had grown to hate me. It breaks my heart that the last words we spoke were angry ones. Still, I should attend his death rite, now that I’m permitted to. I hope I can convince the conclave to change their minds about the azuri fae. Since they see that my astral magic and our bond saved them from many losses, if not a total collapse of the kingdom, perhaps they will realise how unjust they have been. It would be nice to be able to tell Beniss’ family they could rejoin the kingdom.” She looked down. “I will have to spend some time considering the proper words to tell them of her bravery in death.”
“I’d like to come with you to Saor’s funeral.” Munro didn’t know if it would be appropriate, but he felt he should offer.
Eilidh smiled. “Thank you. I have to do this alone.”
Munro wanted to say he understood, but he stayed silent. At least with the bond, he knew Eilidh sensed what he felt.
“I do hope you will come to the Isle of Skye with me. I may be there for some time. I have a lot to learn. Once I have learned more about the Path of the Azure, it will be time for us to work together to refine my understanding of the Ways of Earth. If, that is, you do not regret what we have done.”
“We did the only thing we could do. But no, I do not regret it. Eilidh, I love you.”
He could feel the uncertainty in her thoughts, but they melted away as she smiled. “My people are not as hasty as yours. For us, love is not a word we often use. My father said once that we are shallow and vain people.” She touched his hand. “I feel for you something I have never felt before, Quinton. We have a lifetime to discover what words to use.” She leaned over and softly touched his lips with hers.
After a moment of silence she said, “I’ll return after Saor’s death ritual, and we can travel to the Isle of Skye together.”
Munro nodded and grinned. “I’m afraid we’ll have to drive. I can’t run as long or as fast as you can.”
Eilidh groaned and leaned over, resting her forehead on Munro’s shoulder. “We’re going to have to work on that. You may grow stronger and faster over time.”
He kissed her hair. “A lot of changes are coming our way.” Part of him felt a loss, not just for the death of his cousin, Saor, Beniss, and the others, but for the old life he feared he couldn’t go back to. Yet even though he had been satisfied with his life, he had been alone. Now he would never be alone again.
Eilidh didn’t answer, but she didn’t have to. Beyond her tiredness, her grief, and concerns for the future, he also felt the underlying contentment in her heart. Amidst the pain, they’d found each other, and that was something worth holding on to.
A Note from the Author
From the moment I first set foot in Scotland ten years ago, I knew I had come home. It’s a magical place, in every sense of the phrase. If faeries exist, and I’m certain they do, this is where they would have their kingdom.
Thank you so much for reading Blood Faerie. I hope you have enjoyed it. Look for more stories with Eilidh and Munro and follow as they learn more about their bond, the Path of the Azure, and where it takes them. Book Two in this series, Azuri Fae, is available now, and an excerpt included on the next few pages. The third book, Enemy of the Fae, will be available in 2012.
If you like a little sizzle and spice with your magic, look for my paranormal romance novel Ordinary Angels—available now!
—India Drummond
India’s Website:
http://www.indiadrummond.com
Reader e-mail:
[email protected]
Azuri Fae
(An excerpt of Azuri Fae, Book 2 of the Caledonia Fae Series by India Drummond)
Sarah McBride dug her elbow into her husband’s side. “There’s someone outside, Hamish.”
“It’s just a cat. Go back to sleep.” He started snoring again almost immediately.
“That wasn’t a cat I heard. Go see who it is.” She lay still in bed, hands shaking, afraid to breathe. Someone prowling around outside, and that great oaf of a husband was sleeping through it. Probably a pack of teenagers come to steal their telly for drug money. They might even come in and tie them both up.
Sarah swallowed and squeezed her eyes tight together. Hamish might not care, but she wasn’t about to lie there and let a roving band of hooded teens catch her unawares. They’d probably try to do unspeakable things to her. It had been twenty years since she’d been attacked in a pub in Dundee, and she had been young and stupid then, out drinking…alone. She wasn’t some vulnerable girl now. This time she would fight back.
“Hamish!” she hissed one last time with a sharp jab to his middle.
He sat up in the darkness, his tone barely civil. “It was just a dream. Now leave me to sleep. I have to get up in the morning.” Hamish rolled over, heaving his bulk onto his side, bouncing the mattress. “You’ll be the death of me, woman,” he mumbled into his pillow.
“Fine. I’ll do it.” Sarah got up and wrapped her dressing gown around her, tying it at the front. A crash in the side yard halted her progress. She glanced toward the front room, where the house phone sat in its charger. She wanted to call 999, get the police out to look. But if they came, they’d wake Hamish. If it did turn out to be nothing, she’d never hear the end of it. Best to make sure, then call.
She crept down the hall in the pitch black. Her heart pounded so loudly she almost couldn’t hear the intruders. She cursed her fear. She’d never wanted to feel this way again. Hamish couldn’t understand that. He was a hulking man who’d never felt intimidated by someone else’s size. Pausing in the hallway to collect herself, she caught sight of the gun cabinet in the spare room. It tempted her, but she decided against getting out one of Hamish’s shotguns. Until, that is, she heard the rattle of the side gate, followed by footsteps on the path. Sarah rushed t
o the drawer where Hamish kept the cabinet keys. So what if his shotgun certificate was expired? If it saved their lives, she didn’t care. Anyway, she only wanted to scare them. After she retrieved the gun, she slipped a couple of shells into her dressing gown pocket. Just in case.
It took all her courage to tiptoe down the hall, the open shotgun folded over her left arm, ready to receive the shells. How Hamish could sleep through this, she didn’t know, but anger burned inside her.
By the time she made it to the kitchen window and peeled back the blinds, her fear and anger had combined into a pulsing rush of adrenaline. Nobody would hurt her again.
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