Sloane shot her a look and Aine’s expression sobered. “But yeah, they were as official as it gets in these parts.”
“Could you be any more ambiguous?”
“Well, it was duty, you know. Mac’s da made a promise. A vow.”
More vows. Like Mac’s to Aidan. Great.
“Mac had to abide by it, and I don’t think he was fussed either way, to be honest, but Fand …she wasn’t happy about the match, or marriage in general. My sister was fond of her freedom, a husband was her idea of prison. But she didn’t dare refuse.”
“Sounds positively medieval.”
“Girl, we’re gods. We invented medieval.” Aine chuckled, then sobered. “And Fand was a right little cunt back then, let me tell you.”
“She was?” Sloane stared.
“Ah, let me guess. You’ve been taken in by my sweet dreamy-looking sister?” Aine grinned knowingly. “People change. Gods do, too. It just takes much, much longer with us.” She shook her head again. “She loved being pretty and being queen. The very single and fancy-free queen of the fae. She loved making mortals fall for her. She wasn’t deliberately vicious, not like some of her kind can be, but,” the goddess shrugged, “she didn’t care either.”
Aine continued to shred the flower in her hand, looking thoughtful. “Cúchulainn had a bit of a crush on her. It drove Bav nuts when she found out.” Aine mused, looking out at the stars. Then her eyes darted to Sloane. “You know about her and your da, I guess?”
She frowned, thinking of what Heather had told her of their history with the goddess of death. But despite all that, they’d both seemed conflicted, Aidan in particular. Her own impression of the goddess, however brief, had been rather favorable on the whole. It was hard to see her as the twisted monster they all claimed.
“Is she really so evil?”
“She’s a bitch, if that’s what you mean.” Aine let out a soft laugh and rubbed her arms.
“I figured that much, thanks. But I mean, who is she really?”
“She’s fucked up is what she is. I don’t think even Bav knows where her head is at anymore. But back then, with Cúchulainn . . . yeah, she was straight-up evil. Though not as evil as she got with your da.” Aine gave her a sidelong look before continuing. “Bav arranged it so Mac would see them in a compromising position.”
“Fand and Cúchulainn?”
Aine nodded. “One thing you have to say about Mac, when it comes to loyalty, the man does not play. He was furious.” She looked thoughtful, then shrugged. “He could’ve killed her. There some as think he should’ve, but what Mac did in the end was bad enough. He took away Cúchulainn’s memory, but Fand, he cursed something awful.”
“Cursed?”
Aine’s lips curved, and for the first time, Sloane realized how cruel they could be. “That’s why she seems so sweet these days. Mac’s the best of us at magic and the spell he put on Fand . . .” Aine shuddered. “She feels the consequences of each and every one of her actions. No matter how small, you get me? The pain, envy and anger she causes comes back to her threefold.”
Sloane’s eyes widened.
There was a devilish gleam in those dark eyes. “Now you see why she’s such a simpering twat. She has no choice really. It also proves what a badass Mac is. It’s no small thing to curse a fairy. They may look cute, but their magic is deadly.” Aine shuddered again. “It’s why mortals forget everything around fairies. No one can match them in illusion, but while their pretty pictures turn your head, they’re sucking your soul dry.”
“Like vampires, but worse,” Sloane mused, thinking about her father.
Aine laughed. “I don’t know about worse, but I will say it makes perfect sense vampires were spawned from the Fae.”
“Abhartach was really Fae?” The idea of that gravel-voiced thing from her memories once being a creature like Fand made Sloane start.
“Aye. Once upon a time.”
“Why didn’t he come after me long ago? If Declan was able to get past Mac, surely his master could have managed it.”
Aine frowned. “No purebred Fae could have ever set foot on Manx.”
At Sloane’s puzzled look, Aine shook her head. “Oh come on, you research us for a living, you must know this.”
“Yeah, like there’s an encyclopedia or something. No two stories agree on anything about you lot.” Sloane rolled her eyes.
“No Fae can cross the open sea. All of our magic is born of this land, but for the Fae, they are actually born of the magic. To leave Ireland is death for them.”
Sloane frowned. “But Fand came to the beach, where Avalon meets Manx. She talked to me there, right before you and Bav showed up.”
“Well, now that’s Mac’s doing, believe it or not.”
“Mac?”
“It was his wedding present to her, that pretty torc she wears. It’s made of the bedrock of Ireland, and concealed inside it is earth as well. Mac weaved it all together so she could be a proper queen to him. Otherwise, she’d never have been able to set foot on Avalon.” Aine smiled thinly. “You can imagine how closely she guards the damn thing. Never takes it off as far as I can tell.”
The goddess got to her feet, yawning. “Enough gossip for me for one day. Anything you need before I go?”
Sloane raised an eyebrow and looked around pointedly. Aine laughed.
“Except escape, of course. I can get you anything else, within reason.”
“Okay, I want my dad.”
It was Aine’s turn to frown. “You really are determined to be a pain in my ass, aren’t you?” Then she shrugged. “Oh well, I don’t see why not. And if Lugh doesn’t like it, fuck him.” A smile teased that pert, pink mouth. “Which I do as frequently as possible.”
25
“Ye sent her to me!” Mac slammed his hand down on the stone.
Lugh shook his head, blazing even here in the throne room. Oh yes, the king was well and truly pissed. “I did, when I realized what Bav wanted Aine to do, I did change the spell on purpose. But my intent was to protect the chit from your thrice-cursed sister, ye bloody eejit! Not for you to claim the lass and try to start a war.”
“Is it a war between us then?”
Lugh got right up into his face, his hand drifting to the spear at his belt. “Is that what ye want?”
Mac rolled his eyes, despite the tension between them. Days in the gulag hadn’t taken the edge off his temper, it’d only distilled it. “Are ye fer bloody real? War? I doona even have the patience fer court these days, let alone a fucking war.”
Slowly, Lugh’s hand came away from his spear. “Then we’d better find a solution, eh?”
“What if I already have one?” Mac smiled, but it was a grim, cold thing.
It didn’t get any better when Mac laid out his terms for peace.
Lugh stared at him in silence for a long, long time. “You really love her, don’t you?”
“Aye.”
“Magic leaves a powerful hole when it goes. What if you don’t survive it?”
“Trust me, old friend.” Mac’s gaze was fierce. “I’ll survive it.”
“I have to think this through,” Lugh said slowly, looking grim. “Leave me now.”
Mac pressed his lips together but didn’t protest, leaving the king alone on his throne. The monarch’s finger stroked the bells that waited there, lingering over the one with a clapper in the shape of a sickle moon, but he rang none of them.
Mac knew this was a decision Lugh would have to make on his own.
Aidan strode across the sunlit field like a dark, menacing shadow. His expression was murderous, but it softened when she threw her arms around his neck.
“I can’t believe they’re keeping you from me,” he growled in her ear, his hold almost painfully tight.
“How long has it been?” she gulped. “It feels like I’ve been here for ages.”
“It’s been less than three hours since I sent Mac to your house.”
Her eyes went wide.
“I figured as much.” Though hearing it from his lips made it all so much more real.
“’Tis why I can be here with ye.” He waved a hand at the sky. “Tha’ is just illusion, is no’ the real sun up there, only magic. Wha’ is going on, love?”
She explained as best she could, Aidan’s face growing ever darker with each word. He cursed when her voice finally trailed away after explaining the events on the beach, ending with Bav’s appearance and Aine’s sudden arrival to bring her here.
“I doona trust Mac any more than I trust his cursed sister!”
“Despite how he protected me for you?”
“Protected?” Aidan laughed bitterly, swiping a tired hand over his dark golden curls. “Is tha’ what they’re calling it these days?”
“Quit that,” Sloane snapped, making Aidan drop his hand to stare at her. “I am a full-grown woman and I pursued him first. All this crap about my honor is not only sexist, it’s starting to piss me off.”
Aidan narrowed his crystal eyes. “Maybe ye’re right, but as yer father . . .” He shook his head. “It’s more than tha’,” he said, his voice gentling considerably. “Gods doona know how to love, sweetheart. No’ really.”
“Mac does.”
He gathered her hand in both of his. “Listen to me, Sloane. I didna want to tell ye this, but . . .” he swallowed, then looked her straight in the eye. “I’m wondering if Mac intended to let Declan kill ye.”
She gasped, trying to yank her hand back, but Aidan wouldn’t let her. “Hear me out. Bav and I had a chat when she came to tell me where ye were. She said Mac told her awhile back tha’ ‘ye were mortal and he was no’, but what if tha’ were to change?”
“I thought you didn’t believe anything she said.” Sloane gave him a bitter look even as her skin went cold.
Aidan sighed. “Normally, no, but think of it. He lets Declan take ye, staying just close enough to interfere if things get too bad, then bringing me in to save ye when there was no’ other choice.”
“But he brought me to Avalon. He didn’t ask you . . . to do that.”
“Only because he knew Lugh was about to interfere.”
She shook her head. “Mac wouldn’t do something so cold. He wouldn’t.”
“Mayhap no’.” But her father’s eyes were sad. “But gods are ruthless, Sloane. Utterly and completely ruthless. Mac wants ye. And what a god wants, they get, by any means necessary.”
She opened her mouth, ready to argue further, when Aine appeared. “Time’s up,” she said cheerfully.
Aidan glowered, his fingers tightening on Sloane’s. “My daughter is coming back with me.”
The goddess had the grace to look away even as she shook her head. “No, Aidan. We’ll be keeping her for a bit longer,” she said softly. “Lugh’s orders.”
“Lugh’s…or Mac’s?” Aidan’s voice turned apocalyptic, but then Fand appeared behind him, touching his shoulder with one slender finger.
In the next second, her father was gone.
26
“I want to see Lugh,” Sloane demanded, her hands clenched, staring at the spot where Aidan had been seconds before. “Enough is e-fucking-nough.”
To her surprise, Aine didn’t argue, just took her by the hand and walked through the mist that clung to the edges of Sloane’s field. A great hall formed around them as they walked.
Aine dropped her hand then, muttering something as voices became audible up ahead. Sloane was nervous, but as they moved deeper into what had to be an enormous castle, Sloane realized how good it felt to be doing something again. Anything.
Even if it might not do a damn bit of good.
The voices grew louder.
“You can’t hold him forever. Even you’re not that strong, Your Grace.”
“I fucking know that, Dian. If he wanted to escape, he’d already be gone. He’s offered terms . . . I’m trying to decide whether to accept them or not.”
“Then you must make a decision soon. Manannán is showing every sign of incredible strain. He’ll escape if you don’t, and then Danu help us all.”
Another muttered oath. “Of all the bloody stubborn—”
The blond giant from the beach looked up as Sloane entered the room, Aine trailing at her heels. A smaller, decidedly studious-looking man stood at his side.
“Oh. ’Tis you,” the king said.
The sight of him made Sloane’s skin start to prickle and go hot, remembering the sight of Mac being dragged away in chains by this man. “Yes. I am sure my imprisonment slipped your mind. Just who the hell do you—”
Aine hip-checked Sloane so hard she tumbled sideways into a column.
As she picked herself up with a curse, the blue-eyed goddess glided up to the stairs to the throne, her moves so sinuous she didn’t appear to touch the ground at all. Lugh was watching her, a slight smile on his lips as the goddess took a position beside him, one hand on his knee.
“Sloane, I daresay you haven’t been properly introduced, but this is Lugh. The king of the Tuatha de Danaan.” Aine shot her what was unmistakably a warning look. Then grinned roguishly. “He’s also my consort.”
The king blinked. “Your consort? Isn’t it the other way around?” But there was amusement in the Lugh’s rich, golden voice as he looked at Aine. It was a minute before he turned back to Sloane. “Mac has asked that I hold you so long as I am holding him—”
What? Sloane was confused, but she tried not to show it.
“—I am sorry for the inconvenience. Damnably sorry.” The king did appear sincere, so Sloane decided pushing her luck one more time wouldn’t hurt.
“Then prove it,” she interrupted. “Let me see him. Mac.”
Lugh blinked again.
“He raised you, didn’t he?” Sloane pressed. “I remember those stories. Mac was your foster father. Trained you in every weapon there is, made it possible for you to challenge Balor.”
“I don’t need a mortal to remind me of my own history.” Lugh’s voice deepened, rolling down the stairs to rumble at the edges of the room.
Sloane refused to be cowed even as her knees knocked together. “Don’t you?” She raised an eyebrow.
Dian coughed, looking scandalized. Behind Lugh, Sloane saw Aine make a face, but she kept her head high. Instinct told her nothing would impress this Tuatha de Danaan king less than lack of spine. He might punish her for her boldness, but he wouldn’t kill her for it.
Or so she hoped.
“Well, I must say, I see why you appeal to Mac so much. I, too, am fond of contrary females,” his eyes flicked to the woman at his side, “but a touch of diplomacy is a good idea when addressing someone who could end your life with a snap of his fingers.”
If Lugh’s eyes hadn’t been twinkling, Sloane thought she might have pissed herself at the bite in his tone.
“I’ll arrange a visit,” the king continued, “a short one.” Her knees went weak. He gave her a surprisingly sympathetic look. “But once that is over, you must resign yourself to letting him go. One way or the other.”
Must I? thought Sloane, her heart racing. We’ll fucking see about that. But she took Lugh’s own advice and smiled at him instead of telling him to go to hell. From the glint in his eye, he knew exactly what she was thinking, but he laughed anyway.
“Fand,” he called out. “See our prisoner is given leave to visit the mortal for the span of half an hour. No more.”
The fairy queen disappeared with a bright smile, but Sloane’s mood plummeted. Half an hour?
Everyone had left the throne room by the time Mac appeared, Fand at his side. The fairy queen vanished the instant Sloane started toward them.
Mac looked good, much better than he had on that damn beach. He stood irresolute and tall, imposing even in this huge place. Then he smiled and she started to run.
He caught her when she leapt, burying his face in her hair. Sloane felt the shudder th
an ran through that powerful body. She laughed, even as her eyes started to sting.
“I need to tell you something, in case you’ve forgotten,” she breathed in his ear. “I love you.”
“I’ve known ye loved me since ye saw the stone at Cashtal yn Ard. It weren’t the words tha’ told me the truth, it was you seeing a bit of me tha’ no one else can. Tha’ stone canna be seen by mortal eyes. But you saw it. You saw the real me, even before you knew wha’ ye were seeing.”
“But then…why did you send me away?”
He sighed, pulling her into his arms. “I told ye before, ye had to have a chance to change your mind. But more than that, I had to know it was true, no’ on your part, love, but on mine. I didna trust myself when it came to ye.”
She stared up at him, worrying at her lower lip as she thought of what Aidan had said.
“There’s something else bothering ye,” he guessed. “Wha’ is it?”
“Aidan told me something . . .” Her voice shaking, she laid out her father’s theory on why it had taken Mac so long to find Declan.
“Make ye a vampire?” His voice started low enough before deepening to a rumble of pure outrage and disgust. “Ye think tha’ was my solution?”
Sloane swallowed. “Well, Aidan . . .”
“O’Neill is forever scarred by what my bloody sister did to him. But surely ye, machree, ye didna believe this foul thing?” Mac looked shaken—wounded to his very core. But even so, she couldn’t lie to him, not now, not ever.
“Not really. But I wondered . . . if that is the only way, I wanted you to know I’m okay with it, Mac. I would understand.”
He recoiled, his hands dropping from her arms. “If tha’ was only the way, I’d walk into the sea and never lay eyes on ye again.”
She reached for him, sudden fear freezing the regret teeming inside her. “Mac, I’m sorry, I’m just trying to figure things out here. I didn’t know—”
“Aye. But ye know me. Is tha’ a choice ye could see me making for ye? Letting some foul git like Declan torture and drain ye until yer da had no choice but to change ye? I wouldna do tha’ to O’Neill, let alone to ye.”
Lightning In Sea (CELTIC ELEMENTALS Book 3) Page 15