Trial By Fire (Beyond The Veil Book 1)

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Trial By Fire (Beyond The Veil Book 1) Page 4

by Cate Dean


  He laid his hand on the thick, polished oak. Reese wasn’t on the other side of that door—but something else was. Something he’d hoped never to face again.

  A portal.

  His heart pounded in his chest when he tried the knob on a hunch, and found the door unlocked. He opened it, stepped inside, and closed his eyes briefly when he saw the blue-white light surrounding a circle of nothing in the middle of her living room.

  Bran didn’t want to think about who—or what—had taken her, but he wasn’t about to leave her alone with them.

  He took a deep breath, pulled the knife that was a permanent part of his right boot, and jumped into the portal.

  Nine

  The man let out a furious shriek—and I knew before I turned what had set him off.

  Bran.

  He appeared at the far edge of the clearing, holding a knife that glowed like blue fire, the silver of the demon almost swallowing his grey eyes.

  “Let her go, Torlogh

  “How are you here, demon spawn?”

  “You know better, Torlogh.” Bran smiled—a cold smile that had fingers of ice sliding down my back. “I’m only half demon spawn.”

  Bran’s appearance gave me courage.

  “Whatever you want,” I said, looking into eyes so beautiful, but so alien, the part of me that was human wanted to shriek and run away. “I won’t give it to you.”

  “The choice will not be yours, Seer. This has been destined, from the moment you were born.”

  “Liar.” Bran stepped forward—and halted, like he’d run into an invisible barrier. “The Queen banished you from the Light Court for a reason, Torlogh. Even a lowly half-demon heard about what you did.”

  Torlogh lifted his chin. It was strange, but the more time I spent with him, the more human he started to look. That probably wasn’t a good thing.

  “The punishment did not fit such a minor disagreement. I meant to open the Queen’s eyes to—”

  “You meant to take the throne from her.” Bran crossed his arms, the still glowing knife tapping his bicep. “Dress it up all you want, but it was an attempted coup. You’re lucky she didn’t turn you to dust right then and there.”

  I looked from Bran to Torlogh, my eyes wide. “You tried to take over the Light Court?” I knew enough about the Queen of the Light Court to know that was so not a good idea. “And you’re still alive?”

  “Death would have been preferable. I am trapped in this place between, able to see both realms, but unable to touch either. At least, I was unable.” He smiled at me—and it was the most beautiful, horrifying thing I had ever seen. “Now, blood and power can free me.”

  “Not on my watch.” Between one second and the next, Bran lashed out with the knife.

  I could see the barrier as he sliced through it—an ugly, writhing thing, surrounding the clearing and trapping me inside. I realized now that even if I had been able to escape, I wouldn’t have gotten far.

  Torlogh threw me at the barrier—and it grabbed me, powerful, invisible fingers wrapping around my wrists, my ankles. I wanted to scream until my voice gave out. Instead I fought, the need to get away stronger than my fear.

  Bran sprinted to me and started carving at the barrier. In my mind, I could hear it screaming in pain. Finally, it let me go. Bran took my hand and pulled me behind him, keeping himself between me and Torlogh as he backed to the edge of the clearing.

  “Don’t come after her again. And if you offer up another sacrifice, I’ll find you and slit your throat myself.”

  Torlogh snarled, and recoiled when Bran aimed the knife at him. “You cannot mete out justice in my realm.”

  Bran tilted his head, and I knew without seeing his face that he was smiling. “You aren’t in your realm, Torlogh.”

  He jerked at Bran’s statement, and for a second, I saw terror in his alien eyes. “Nothing you can do will stop me. I will be free—and the human realm will be mine.”

  Dread fisted around my heart. Before I could say anything, Bran turned around, picked me up, and ran straight at the barrier.

  I wrapped my arms around his neck and held on. I’m not ashamed to say I closed my eyes the second we hit the barrier.

  The next thing I knew we landed on the floor of my living room, rolling from the momentum. That was going to leave bruises.

  Bran ended up on top of me. “Are you okay?” He cradled my cheek, and finally, tears stung my eyes. “Hey,” he leaned down and kissed me, so gently that it turned on the waterworks. I never wanted him to leave me. Ever. “You’re okay, Reese. We’re okay.”

  “What was he?” I whispered.

  Bran sighed. “He’s a Fear Doirche—a Dark Man. He was the Queen’s right hand, her justice, and her fist. Like you heard, he tried to overthrow the Light Court. It didn’t go well.”

  “What was he thinking?”

  “He wasn’t.” Bran smiled at me, and pushed himself up when he realized he was still sprawled over me. I liked having him sprawled over me. “Sorry—give me your hand.” He helped me sit, and his smile widened when he saw my t-shirt. “Def Leppard, huh?”

  “Closet head banger.” I pushed sweaty hair off my face, and gave into the need to touch him again. I laid my hand over his heart—and found that it was beating as fast as mine. “Thank you. I don’t know how you found me, but thank you for finding me.”

  “I’m not ready to lose you, Reese.”

  He kissed me again. This time it was anything but gentle.

  When we finally came up for air, I was in his lap, both hands tangled in his thick black hair. “Stay here,” I whispered. “I don’t want to be alone tonight.”

  “Define stay, Reese.” When I stared up at him, he sighed. “My demon half needs parameters, and sometimes definite lines I can’t cross. I’ve known you less than a day, but I know this much—I want you as part of my life. A permanent part of my life. Tell me now if that scares the hell out of you.”

  I studied him, this beautiful man who hadn’t left my thoughts for more than a second at a time since we met. “For tonight, stay means sleep.” I leaned in until my lips brushed his, and I could feel his warm, uneven breath. “Tomorrow, we can talk about the rest.”

  I let out a startled laugh when he picked me up. It still surprised me just how strong he was, since I saw him as a man, and not a demon.

  He carried me to the bed and lowered me to the edge, taking long enough to strip out of his boots and his t-shirt before he sat next to me. “The jeans are staying on,” he said. “That will remind me that I’m here just to sleep.”

  “Thank you.” I traced the line of his cheek, his face already so familiar to me.

  “I’ll turn off the lights—”

  “No.” I didn’t want to sound panicked, but I did, at just the thought of being in the dark. Did I mention I keep a big supply of bulbs in my closet? “I can’t—I need the light on.”

  “God, Reese, I’m sorry. I forgot about the Fae and their fear of darkness.”

  My heart skipped. “What?”

  “Shit—sorry.” He ran one hand through his hair. “You don’t know, do you?”

  “My mom skipped that part of my clandestine education. But—” I let out a shaky breath. “I’ve been afraid of the dark for as long as I can remember.”

  “The Fae fear darkness—it steals their essence, their life force.” He took my hands. “I promise, Reese, I’ll always keep a light on.”

  “Thank you.” The fact that he understood left me more relieved than I expected. “Now, I have one very important question for you. The answer may change the course of our relationship.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “What is it?”

  I leaned in, and whispered against his ear. “What side of the bed do you sleep on?”

  Ten

  The ridiculously chirpy ring tone of Bran’s cell phone startled him awake. He opened his eyes—and realized that he was wrapped around Reese.

  It felt right. She felt right, in his arms.


  He eased away from her and reached for his cell where he’d left it on her nightstand. He smothered a groan when he saw the caller ID. It was Nick Phillips, which couldn’t be good news at the wrong side of seven am.

  “What is it, Nick?”

  “That you, Bran?”

  He nearly smiled. “It is my phone you’re calling, Nick.”

  “Where are you?”

  Bran decided that lying to his closest friend—who also happened to be a cop—wasn’t a good idea. “I’m with Reese Pierpoint.”

  Nick chuckled. “That didn’t take long.”

  He sat, clutching the phone so hard he was afraid it might crack. He knew Nick was joking, but sometimes his human side tended to overreact. “Never talk about her like that again.”

  Even through the phone, he could feel Nick sober. “Sorry, Bran. She’s important, then?”

  “Yeah.” He sighed, rubbing his forehead. “Hang on.” He made sure Reese was still asleep, and slipped out of bed, heading into the bathroom. Once he closed the door, he held the phone up again. “Sorry I snapped. The human side is feeling possessive this morning. What’s wrong?”

  “I’m at the Divine Light Center. There was a break-in early this morning, and the thief took some—unusual things. I’d like you to come and take a look. If you can persuade your Seer to tag along, I’d like her input as well.”

  Bran rubbed his forehead. He couldn’t think of anything the cult would have in a public center—

  A horrible idea started to form. “Were any of those unusual items of Irish origin?”

  “Actually, all of them. How did you know?”

  “Educated guess. We’ll be there as soon as we can.”

  “I’ll meet you out front. And thanks.”

  Nick ended the call abruptly, which told Bran he was under pressure. Santa Luna had always been a quiet, safe town, with little crime. But with three kids dead, and now this break-in, Nick’s superiors must be screaming.

  “Bran?” He turned at Reese’s voice. She stood in the bathroom doorway, disheveled and wearing only her oversized, faded Def Leppard t-shirt. God help him, she was beautiful. “What is it?”

  “Someone broke into the Divine Light Center. Nick smells non-human involvement.”

  “I’m coming with you.”

  Bran stepped to her, pulled her in his arms and kissed her. Without being asked, she wanted to help. She had more courage, after knowing about her power for barely more than a day, than most Fae he knew who had been born knowing their power.

  After he let her go, and watched her walk over to her closet, he finished dressing. They would need to stop at his office so he could arm himself. It was also time for Reese to learn about his arsenal. Just in case.

  By the time he had the beginning of a plan, Reese was dressed in a black, formfitting t-shirt that made his mouth water, jeans, and a black leather jacket. She looked beautiful, and tough, but he saw the vulnerable look in her dark blue eyes. She walked over to him, and he held his arms out to her.

  “What if this Torlogh is involved?” She wrapped her arms around his waist and held on. “I’m afraid he’ll be there if I touch something,” she whispered.

  He ran his hand down the length of her hair, soothing her. “Torlogh can’t cross the barrier the Queen created when she banished him. Whoever did this is acting on his behalf, but they are probably a Fae with little power. Whoever they were, they left part of themselves behind, and we can use that to track them. I’ll be with you, sweetheart.” The endearment slipped out before he could stop it.

  She looked up at him. “I’m glad I’m not alone.” She flashed a grin. “Handsome.”

  He wanted to kiss her again. Instead, he took her hand and led her out of the apartment. If he started kissing her, they would end up on the bed instead of on the way to a crime scene.

  Reese stopped when she saw his car. “A black convertible. It suits you.”

  Bran didn’t realize how much he wanted her to like his car until she said she did. “It gets me around.”

  “Can I drive it sometime?”

  He opened the passenger door for her. “We can talk.”

  She shook her head. “Boys and their toys.”

  He couldn’t argue.

  He slid into the driver’s seat, and started the car. Because it was still early for most Santa Luna locals, they made good time to his office. He had Reese come up with him, bracing himself for any reaction. After he pushed the button that opened the recessed panel at the back of his office, he tucked his hands in the pockets of his jeans and waited.

  Reese step forward, studying the weapons mounted to the wall from floor to ceiling. Endless seconds later, she finally spoke. “Impressive.”

  He looked over at her. “You’re not freaked out?”

  “Oh, I’ve been freaked out since yesterday morning, when I stepped straight into Maeve’s trap and touched the pendant she gave me. This seems pretty sane in comparison. Now that I know who—and what—has been walking around me all these years, having a wall full of weapons isn’t all that crazy.”

  Bran stepped to her and slid his hand into her hair. “I think I love you.”

  Amusement flared in her eyes—just before he kissed her, hard and fast. That was all they had time for.

  He grabbed what he thought he might need, and handed her a small pistol. “This has iron bullets, which I assume doesn’t bother you.”

  “No. At least, it didn’t. Do you have anything iron?”

  He hesitated, then grabbed a small iron dagger off the wall. Reese held out her hand for it, her fingers shaking. He carefully placed it in her palm, ready to snatch it out if she so much as made a sound. She closed her fingers over the dagger and smiled at him.

  “Nothing. Looks like the human wins out this time.”

  “Keep it.”

  He handed her the leather scabbard. She sheathed the dagger and tucked it in the pocket of her leather jacket.

  “This will be enough,” she said. “Guns make me nervous.”

  “I can teach you how to shoot. That will help cut the nerves.”

  She smiled, and he wanted to feel that smile against his lips. “Deal.”

  After he secured his weapons in various hiding places, he closed the panel and led her out of the office.

  Time to find out what new nasty Torlogh had in the works.

  Eleven

  Detective Phillips waited for us on the sidewalk outside the stark, but appealing Center building. Maybe it was the abundance of trees and bushes around the front of the plain cement and glass front.

  The Divine Light—or Lighters, as they called themselves—had gone out of fashion a long time ago, but this Center still offered a vegan meal every Sunday night, along with a positive speech on the joy of joining them. Yeah, I was curious when I first moved here, and sat in on a free dinner. The people leading the event were so earnest, and so dedicated, I couldn’t help but like them.

  It took a few seconds, but I recognized one of the two Lighters standing in the entryway, wringing her hands. She wore civilian clothes instead of the bright red robe, which threw me.

  Detective Phillips strode forward and opened my car door. “Thank you for agreeing to help, Miss Pierpoint.”

  “Reese.” I took his offered hand and climbed out of the car. “We’ll probably be seeing more of each other, so no need to be formal.”

  “Reese, it is.” He let go of me and met Bran at the front of the car. “I had Eliza make an inventory of everything that’s missing.” He handed Bran a piece of notebook paper. “I figured it would come in handy.”

  “Thanks,” Bran said. He was already scanning the list, a frown marring his forehead. “What the hell were they doing with a 10th century Celtic high cross?”

  Eliza answered him. “It was a donation from one of our generous patrons. We have several of them, from the same patron.” She blinked, obviously fighting tears. “They were all taken, and those too heavy to carry were destroyed.”


  “I’m so sorry,” I said. I stepped to Eliza and touched her arm.

  The tears slid down her cheeks. “I suppose I have an attachment to them.” Her red-robed companion snorted, disapproval on his face. “Possessions aren’t supposed to mean anything to us, but these were rare, important objects. I kept telling the elders that they should be in a museum, where they would be safe, and available for everyone to see. But someone kept overriding my petition.”

  She glanced back at the other Lighter. He looked surprised—and I bit back a smile. He had been busted. In public.

  Bran joined the conversation. “Did you take photos of these crosses?”

  “For our records, yes. Please—forgive my rude manners. Come inside, where we can be comfortable. Brother Natalan has made mint tea.”

  Eliza led the way inside. Detective Phillips joined Bran on my right, shaking his head. “Not your normal crime scene, but I had to let them lead the way, since their elders donate generously to the Police Veterans Fund.” He lowered his voice so only Bran and I could hear him. “How powerful are these crosses?”

  “They’re ancient, Nick. In the right hands, they can focus immense amounts of power. It will probably destroy them, but I don’t think our suspect will care.”

  Detective Phillips paled a little. “Okay. Let’s go see what’s what.”

  Eliza and Brother Natalan waited in the huge, open main room. I remembered it from my visit—this was where they had the dinner, on a low table, with big cushions to ease the hard surface. Now it was clear, except for a small altar on the back wall. Or what had been the altar.

  Every piece had been smashed, the altar itself turned over, the black granite cracked down the middle. Eliza cleared her throat as she walked past it, wringing her hands again. “The vault is behind the altar. They did not have to desecrate it,” she whispered. “It was easy enough to move.”

  “They will earn their reward for their deeds, Sister.” Natalan laid one hand on her shoulder. “Show the detective what has gone missing, so we can be done with this. I will be in my meditation room. The angry aura has left me depleted.”

 

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