At least Brennus hasn’t tried to kiss me again, not since the day when he kissed me in front of everyone in the hall. He likes to touch me though. I almost feel like a favorite pet at this point. He likes to play with my hair or stroke my wing when we are in my tower reading or when I’m eating breakfast in his office each morning before I get dressed for the day.
Brennus goes out of his way to spend time with me, even when someone is constantly trying to gain his attention for this or that problem. He takes me for walks around his huge estate. He shows me the cliffs where the sea meets the rocks far below. I love to go there now, even though it’s getting colder and windier as winter is creeping in. I want to fly around those cliffs, see what is in the caves far below us, but I’m not that good at flying yet, so I stick to practicing away from where the wind can toss me into a wall of stone and then down to the deep, treacherous water below.
Brennus is getting better at knowing me, too. I can tell by the gifts that he gives me. At first, he gave me things like a ridiculously expensive car that is more elegant than any I have ever seen before. It has seats that are more comfortable than a recliner. But, since I can’t go anywhere but around the grounds, it’s pointless. I can run faster. Then he presented me with more jewelry than I have places to put it. Every shape, facet, color and carat is covered, but when he notices I don’t wear any of it, he gets smarter.
Eating my breakfast in Brennus’ office, I watch him slide a perfectly wrapped box towards me with an expectant look. I eye it like it’s my nemesis. Continuing to spread jelly on my bagel, I ask, “What is it?”
“A gift. Jus open it,” he says casually, watching me with a small smile on his face.
Licking the jelly from the tip of my finger, I roll my eyes at him and reach for the box, hoping it’s not more jewelry. Unwrapping it quickly, like tearing off a band-aid, I open the lid of the box and a small gasp escapes me when I find a pair of running shoes in it. I’ve had nothing to wear on my feet lower than a four-inch heel since coming here two months ago.
Has it really only been two months, I ask myself. I feel like it’s been an eternity since I have seen Reed—since there has been something to hope for when I get up in the morning.
I gently reach into the box, pulling the shoes out and hugging them to me. I haven’t felt like me since I have been here. The strange surroundings, the strange clothes and the even stranger fellas have made living here day to day a constant balancing act. I have been feeling like, at any moment, someone will jump on my tightrope and cause me to plummet from it.
“Ye are da most confusing craitur,” Brennus murmurs, shaking his head. “I give ye jewels and ye canna be bothered ta put dem on; but I give ye trainers and ye act like dey are da most precious tings ever created.”
“I’m not a toddler, Brennus,” I reply, smiling at his comment. “Just because it’s shiny, doesn’t mean I want it. But these will make me feel more like me.”
“Dere are more tings for ye in our bedroom. Denim—” Brennus says, like he has lost some fierce battle and he is surrendering to the enemy.
Not thinking, I rise from my seat, letting the silk robe part and expose the slinky little nightgown underneath. Throwing my arms around his neck, I hug Brennus tight, saying, “You bought me jeans?”
“I did,” he replies smugly, hugging me back just as tight.
“Thank you,” I say delightedly, kissing him quickly on his cool cheek and pulling away from him.
I bolt from the office, materializing in the bedroom in seconds and see a ton of new clothes hanging in my wardrobes. Some of it is still very edgy, but there is also more practical clothing for training and fighting, which I have been doing more and more of with Finn and Molly and my personal guard.
Pulling a black, designer workout outfit from the closet, I hold it up to my body, trying to see what it will look like on me. I race to the bathroom to change, hearing Brennus chuckling behind me.
“Are ye training wi’ Finn again?” he asks through the bathroom door.
“Yes, I’m supposed to meet him near the war room,” I call back, pulling on the tight black pants and matching top that hugs every contour of my form. I let my wings shoot out of my back, thinking Molly must have helped pick this stuff out because it fits perfectly and is made to accommodate my wings.
“Da war room?” Brennus calls back, sounding confused.
I open the door and step out, pulling my hair up into a ponytail so it won’t hang in my face. “Yeah, that’s what I call it. You know the room that no one uses? The one that has the lovely hand-painted maps on the walls? It has a grand piano in it…” I trail off because he is looking at me weird, like I have grown horns or something. “What?” I ask him.
“I was wrong,” Brennus says, walking in a circle around me.
“As you often are, but what is it this time?” I ask, smiling at him.
“Dese clothes are really sexy,” he says softly, sounding amazed.
“Oh,” I say, blushing.
Click.
I step back from him when I hear his fangs engage. It is a knee-jerk reaction because I’m used to trying to avoid being bitten by them. I have been unsuccessful at locating any venison blood I need to sustain a bite. For undead faeries who feed on blood, there is surprisingly no supply of blood around other than the human supply and I can’t bring myself to try to get some of it.
I have been storing my own blood in the perfume bottles in my bathroom. I take a little at a time, when I’m alone in the shower. I use my razor to prick my finger. I don’t have a lot collected yet, only a little more than two small perfume bottles. I can’t afford to get caught, so I only cut myself a little so I can heal fast. It completely grosses me out to think of drinking my own blood, but the alternative is much worse.
Brennus sees my reaction to his fangs and immediately retracts them. “Come, I’ll walk wi’ ye and ye can show me dis ‘war room’ dat ye are using,” he says, extending his hand to me casually.
We walk out to the hallway where my personal guard waits for me. Two more clicks resound in the hall, one from Faolan and one from Eion.
“Banjax,” I hear Faolan mutter under his breath as we move down the hall.
Our suite of rooms is located in the North Tower and my archive of rooms is in the West Tower. They have the best views. The East and South Towers I have not had a tour of at all. I think that most of the fellas that live here full time live in these two towers…along with the wans. The war room is located just past my West Tower, on the long corridor that leads to the South Tower.
We are just coming to the doors of the West Tower when Finn and Molly meet us in the corridor. Finn has on his concerned-look as he stops near us.
“I was jus coming ta see ye. We have a guest who has asked ta speak ta ye directly,” Finn says to Brennus, looking a little grim.
“Should I see ta dis guest directly or will it wait?” Brennus asks, watching Finn.
“Directly,” Finn replies immediately.
“Are ye going ta train dis morning?” Brennus asks Finn.
“I go wi’ ye. Da girls will have ta find someting else ta do for now,” Finn replies. Turning, Finn says to Molly, “Ye stay wi’ Declan. Do na leave his side. I will come find ye later.” I see her nod to him before he reaches up to stroke her face, not like a victim, but like a lover.
“Is there a problem?” I ask Finn, my heart kicking up a notch because he is acting strange—threatened.
Brennus smiles, saying, “Dere are always problems, mo chroí, but dere are none dat I have na seen before, so do na look so worried.”
Brennus speaks quickly to Declan, saying something in Faerie that I don’t understand, and red flags start going up in my mind. Declan nods, looking at me, and then at the other fellas in my entourage.
“Lachlan, go get Keefe and Leif. Meet us in da Aingeal tower. Make sure ye lock da doors ta da West Tower after ye let yeself in,” he instructs and Lachlan shoots away to do as ordered.
&nbs
p; “What the—Brennus! What is going on?” I ask, watching the fellas move closer to me.
“Uninvited guest. Just a precaution,” he says softly, looking completely calm.
“I should go with you?” I ask, feeling threatened.
What if something happens to him? Then it will happen to me, too. We are linked, Brennus and me. I feel like I need to protect him, if for no other reason than self-preservation.
“Why?” he asks, looking intrigued.
“What if something happens to you?” I ask nervously.
Pushing a strand of my hair behind my ear, he counters, “Whah could happen?”
Narrowing my eyes at him, I say, “You tell me.” Crossing my arms in front of me, I wait for him to tell me what’s going on.
Laughing softly, he leans nearer and kisses my neck, just below my ear, before whispering to me, “Ye are perfect. I will see ye soon. Try na ta fret.” Looking at Finn, Brennus nods his head and they leave together, heading back towards the North Tower.
Declan takes us to my tower and I wait there with two extra guards posted inside with us and several more outside the doors of the tower, patrolling it. Finally, after hours of waiting, Finn comes to tell me that Brennus would like to speak to me in his office. He carries with him a beautiful, red silk dress and heels that are incredibly elegant.
Handing them to me, he says, “Brennus would like ye to wear something more appropriate.”
“Why? What’s happening, Finn?” I ask, wanting an explanation.
“He will tell ye when ye get there. He wants ye ta meet someone,” he says, without elaborating.
“Who?” I ask Finn, holding up the dress to see what it looks like. It’s elegant and sophisticated, but it has a neckline that is a little risqué.
“Someone ye need ta meet,” Finn says cryptically, and I give up because he is not giving anything away.
I change quickly and meet the fellas outside my tower room doors. I walk with my extensive entourage to the North Tower, trying to read their faces.
Approaching Brennus’ office, I still before reaching for the handle as my hand reaches up to cover my nose. A rotten, grotesque odor seeps out from under the door ahead of me. If I had hackles on my body, they would be raised, but as it is, I have goose bumps running the length of my body.
Fallen, I think, feeling dread eat at me.
I know their stench. I remember it from the 7-Eleven where Gaspard, the fallen angel, tore apart all the people in the store.
What are the Fallen doing here? I wonder feebly.
I know that Brennus is evil, but he doesn’t make a habit of hanging around with the Fallen—at least, I don’t think he does. I never really asked him.
“’Tis all right,” I hear Finn murmur from behind me. “He would never call for ye if ’twas na safe or at least necessary.”
Nodding my head, I make myself reach for the door handle while all of my senses are telling me to flee. As I open the door, I try to inhale in shallow breaths because the stench in the room is enough to make my eyes water. Knowing that I have to hide every weakness and vulnerability that I possess, I stride confidently into the room as if I am the most powerful being ever created.
Seated behind his desk, Brennus rises as I enter. Looking towards the doors across the room by the balcony, it is easy to spot the one who has created the stench. He is standing in a shower of light from the sun, looking out at the view of the sea beyond. He turns when I stop just inside the doorway.
If I had thought that I had seen true physical beauty before, I have to admit that I have been mistaken. The Seraphim angel standing before me now has corrected that notion in an instant.
His skin is perfect, not pale like mine, but a golden, sunkissed hue that looks supple as it curves over the masculine planes of his face. He is wearing the same kind of black body armor that Reed and Zee had worn when they knew that the Gancanagh were arriving. His armor is more gothic looking than theirs was, with elaborate emblems etched into the chest area and on his broad shoulders. It clings to him, outlining all of the powerful contours of his physique. He is as tall as Russell, but not as thickly muscled.
His tawny, golden-tone hair has honey hues throughout it and his eyes—I know that I have never seen eyes the color of his before. They are golden brown, but with gray and green flecks in them. His eyes stare back at me from beneath eyebrows that incline gracefully on his brow, but they are impossible to read. His eyes register no surprise, no shock at seeing me here. There is no emotion in them whatsoever.
His wings are—extraordinary. They are the same crimson hue as mine, but they are huge, reaching the entire length of his body, and stopping just before the floor.
But, the most beautiful feature that this angel possesses by far is his mouth. It’s perfection in its fullness and the sensual way that it turns down in the corners, like he finds displeasure with most things. His disapproving expression creates an intense desire within me to see if I can change it somehow.
That last thought shocks me and I tear my eyes away from his mouth and bring them back to his eyes. His expression hasn’t changed at all since I have entered the room. It’s like he has been injected with Botox and now his face is relegated to one expression: exquisitely beautiful disdain.
Feeling ugly in the presence of such allure, my wings flutter around me.
A loud snap sounds as the beautiful angel’s wings unfold in front of me, blotting out the sunlight behind his back. At full extension, his wings are fierce and awe inspiring.
Startled by such a display, my heart accelerates and I take a small step back from him.
Instantly, Brennus’ fangs engage with a deadly click.
My eyes go to Brennus’ to see that his expression is equally disapproving. He extends his hand to me, indicating that I should come to him. Wanting his protection from the lethal predator in our midst, I walk to his desk. Brennus takes my hand in his before he sits down. I allow him to pull me onto his lap, and I am surprised to find that I feel safer near him. Brennus retracts his fangs as he brings his hand up to my cheek to gently stroke it.
As I glance back to the angel across the room, he slowly lowers his wings to a resting position, but his expression remains the same.
“Genevieve, dis is Casimir. He has come ta meet ye,” Brennus says, introducing me to the angel.
Casimir steps forward, nearing the broad desk. My mind tumbles over itself as I roll the name ‘Casimir’ around. I know that name. It’s familiar to me for some reason, but I can’t place it.
Since I don’t know how I should greet my enemy, I say, “Oh?” as I look from Brennus to Casimir. “Well, here I am, Casimir. I would say, ‘Nice to meet you,’ but…” I trail off, wrinkling my nose at him.
An intense, predatory glint enters Casimir’s eyes as his chin drops down slightly. His eyes don’t leave me as he speaks to Brennus in Latin, “You are to be commended, Brennus. You have found her. We are all quite pleased with you. You will be rewarded.”
Intense fear overcomes me in that moment, causing heat to flush my face and my hand to squeeze Brennus’ tight. Brennus uses his other hand to stroke my hair softly before he, too, replies in Latin, “She is the reward, Casimir.”
“She is if you can hold her. You cannot,” Casimir replies emphatically. “She is ours. She has always belonged to us.”
Brennus laughs softly, smiling at me as I look at him. My heart is beating like a drum. I feel ill, understanding that Casimir is here to bargain for me.
What will happen to me if Brennus hands me over to the Fallen? I wonder.
“Ye lie,” Brennus responds in English this time.
“Do I?” Casimir asks, switching to English as well, but his is refined, elegant.
“Ye do,” he says, smiling as his hand brushes my cheek lovingly.
His fingers trail down my neck and over my clavicle towards my heart. Casimir watches everything that Brennus does with the same disdainful expression. Brennus’ fingers slow, trailing ove
r the plunging neckline of my dress. Pulling the red fabric aside, he exposes the mark branded over my heart. Seeing Reed’s wings etched in my skin, an intense yearning claws at my heart, making it difficult to breathe.
A low, deep growl issues from Casimir at the sight of my binding brand. Instinctually, I growl back at him, letting go of Brennus’ hand and putting both of mine lightly on the desk in front of me. I lean forward like I could spring over the desk at Casimir at any moment. Then, I drop my chin a notch, staring at Casimir with the same intensity that he is staring at me.
“You have bound yourself to a Power,” Casimir says with deadly intensity, like it’s a capital offense.
I smile because I have managed to wipe the lofty disdain from his face and swap it for true, raw anger. It is horrifying on the most basic levels, but the angel in me is completely gratified by his response.
“It’s the one decision that I have made in my life that I do not question. Ever,” I respond truthfully.
“Who is this Power? I shall make him question that decision,” Casimir asks.
Brennus’ arms wrap around me tight just as I spring towards Casimir, intending to bash his head in with the statue Reed carved of me clenched in my fist. His words are a thinly veiled threat to Reed and I’m not having it.
“I tink we have had dis conversation before, mo chroí, but maybe it bears repeating. Ye can na kill me guest,” Brennus breathes against my ear. “’Tis bad manners.” To Casimir he says, “She bears a mark of Paradise. She is na yers.”
Casimir switches back to Latin, “Everything will be ours eventually. You know this. The Reaper contacted you, did he not?”
Indebted Page 23