by Donna Grant
“Thank you,” she said over him, silencing his words. “You’ve been a tremendous help. I’m sure you need to notify the family of whoever was found at my grandfather’s.”
She turned and walked away before he could ask any more questions.
Chapter Nineteen
There were many uses for a Fae’s ability to veil themselves. Fintan following Cat was one. He trailed her from her home to the café and then inside the Garda station. Now they were headed back to the house.
There had been a couple of instances when she’d left her house that he wanted to drop the veil and let her see him. Especially when she had been looking for him.
But he had a plan. That plan included help from Balladyn, which he knew the other Reapers probably wouldn’t like. Fintan was no longer going to stand back and wait to see what Bran would do.
It was time to take action. Bran had caused enough trouble. While Cael hadn’t said anything, there was something bothering him. It wasn’t like Cael to not be focused. The obvious conclusion was that it had something to do with Bran and Death.
Since Cael was occupied with that, and the others were looking for Eoghan, Fintan was taking the initiative.
He’d told Balladyn everything about Bran, and hopefully, Balladyn would return with some news. Fintan wasn’t holding out much hope, though. Bran liked to be in charge. He wouldn’t go to the Dark court only to bow to Taraeth.
Whatever Bran had planned for Cat, Fintan was going to be there. He’d intentionally allowed her to think he’d left, mainly because he couldn’t be near her and not have her in his arms. She didn’t trust him, and he couldn’t be with someone who didn’t grant him at least that.
Yet every time he thought of losing her either in death or to Bran, it felt as if something were crushing his chest. It was impossible to breathe or even think clearly.
Somehow, someway, Cat had become important to him. And not just to win this war with Bran. No, it was Cat herself. Fintan had known giving in to the yearning of his body and soul would be his undoing. And it had happened in Cat’s arms.
Not that he regretted it. She was amazing. In every way. Yes, she’d betrayed him, but in her shoes, would he have done anything differently? She’d been put in a difficult situation involving the last remaining member of her family.
Fintan blew out a breath.
“Fuck,” he murmured.
He was furious at her treachery, but if he wanted to make sure she lived, he was going to have to set that aside. He wasn’t sure if he could. After previous betrayals, he’d hardened himself to any form of forgiveness.
But this was Cat. She hadn’t hurt him because she enjoyed it or because it had gained her power. She’d done it in an attempt to free her grandfather.
There was a good reason for Fintan to remain apart from Cat. If she thought he no longer had her back, then it would come across when Bran questioned her. Because Bran would question her.
It was a good plan, but Fintan knew he couldn’t follow through with it. All those centuries of closing off his feelings didn’t seem to work around Cat. She’d opened up his heart and soul, and the consequences were only just now coming to light.
His thoughts had changed, and so, too, were his actions. But the one thing that hadn’t been altered was his ability to protect her. That he’d do until his last breath.
The return to Cat’s house was uneventful. Except for the mortals who stopped and ogled her after she’d walked past. Cat tried to pretend she didn’t see them, but Fintan could tell by her hunched shoulders that she was all too aware of what was happening.
He returned to the alley as she entered the house. Shortly after, she yanked the curtains closed. He knew she had to be thinking about Bran and her grandfather. Now that she had confirmation that the body was someone else, it meant she was weighing Bran’s request more heavily.
Fintan had no doubt she would go to Bran simply because of her grandfather. If he knew that Bran had Eoghan, Fintan would do the same.
With a sigh, he veiled himself and teleported inside Cat’s house. A quick sweep of the dwelling let him know that they were alone. Only then did he drop the veil.
Cat had her back to him as she stood in the kitchen. She set down the glass and slowly turned to him. Her eyes lit up as soon as she saw him.
He wasn’t sure what to say. It wasn’t until he stood before her once more that he realized why he couldn’t shut her out of his life—he’d come to care for her. Greatly.
For a Fae such as him, affection was an emotion none could afford. And yet, he’d somehow developed just that for the Halfling. It wouldn’t have mattered if Cat were human. She had the ability to touch him as no one ever had—or ever would.
“I thought you were gone forever,” she said.
Fintan glanced at the floor. He rubbed his chest, that invisible band tightening again. Recognizing his growing warmth had only made things worse because he realized how easily he could lose her.
Cat walked toward him, stopping a few feet away. “I’m sorry. I should’ve told you everything.”
“Aye. You should’ve.”
“Tell me I haven’t lost you. Please, Fintan. I need you. Not because of Bran, but because . . . I care about you.”
Images of losing her in various, horrific ways kept flashing in his head.
She licked her lips and took a tentative step forward. “I knew if I told you I planned to talk to Bran alone that you’d convince me not to do it. But I had to know his reasons. So I used my magic to create a dome that would hide Bran and me from you. It was seeing you outside of the dome that made him think he could turn me.”
“I know,” Fintan murmured.
“He believes I betrayed you.”
Fintan frowned as he stared into her green eyes. “You did.”
“I called to you after. I wanted to tell you everything. I wanted to apologize.”
“Because you need my help.”
She shook her head of red hair. “I called to you because with you beside me, I don’t feel so alone. With you, I feel as if I can conquer whatever is to come.”
Damn her for saying all the right things. He held out his hand. She immediately took it, and he pulled her against him. His eyes closed as soon as she wrapped her arms around him. For several minutes, they stayed locked in each other’s arms.
“Bran has my grandfather.”
Fintan rubbed a hand up and down her back. “I figured that part out.”
“It’s why I didn’t tell you about my talk with Bran inside the dome. I wanted a private place where Bran couldn’t hurt me but you couldn’t see us.”
“The dome.”
She nodded her head and leaned back to look at him. “I had the dagger. He couldn’t defend himself, and I was about to kill him.”
“Then he mentioned your grandfather.”
Tears gathered in her eyes. “Yes. I had to know if he spoke the truth.”
“I understand.” He wiped at the tears that ran down her cheeks. “I shouldn’t have veiled myself from you.”
“So you were there?”
“I’ve not left your side.”
She sniffed and pressed her cheek against his chest. “Now what? Bran is coming back for me.”
“I’ve got an idea.” He pulled her away so he could look into her eyes. “If you had him defenseless once, you can do it again. But that means allowing him to take you wherever he plans.”
“And you can follow?” she asked with a frown.
“I will. Nothing will keep me from you.”
She wiped her face and straightened her shoulders. “What’s the plan?”
“It’s better if you don’t know details. I’ll be with you, though. Always.”
He leaned down and pressed his mouth to hers. Their lips parted, and their tongues dueled. He pressed her close to him, needing to feel her warmth and her softness. She was a drug, and he was blissfully addicted.
She ended the kiss and held his face between her hands
as she gazed up at him. “I’ll never betray you again. Nor will I ever keep anything like this from you. I can’t apologize enough for my actions.”
“Shh,” he said and put a finger over her lips. “We’ll get through this. I need to go, but I’ll not be far.”
“That gives me the courage to face Bran again.”
Fintan wanted to kiss her again, but he held himself in check. Instead, he ran his thumb over her bottom lip and veiled himself before returning to the alley across the street.
His musings halted when there was movement beside him as Balladyn appeared. The Dark looked around expectantly. Fintan dropped his veil, causing Balladyn to grin.
“I knew you’d be here,” Balladyn said.
Fintan raised a brow. “Why?”
“Because of her,” Balladyn said, jutting his chin toward the house.
There was no need to reply, so Fintan didn’t bother. “What did you learn?”
“No one knows anything about Bran, but another ten Dark have been reported missing. That’s not counting the loners who Bran could’ve recruited.”
Fintan mulled that over. “So his army grows.”
“Does Death have an army?”
“She has the Reapers.”
One side of Balladyn’s mouth lifted. “I see.”
“Do you?”
“Very clearly, in fact.”
Fintan eyed the Dark. “What is it you think you see?”
“How do you plan to kill Bran?”
He let Balladyn change the subject. “Any way I can. It won’t be long before he comes for her.”
“Ah. But I still don’t believe your interest in the lovely Catriona is solely about Bran.” When Fintan didn’t respond, Balladyn smiled. “Just as I thought. Not that I blame you. She’s a looker with fire in her veins.”
Fintan didn’t want to discuss Cat in any way. He stared into the Dark’s red eyes. “Enough.”
Balladyn gave a nod of his head, the grin wiped off his face. “What does Bran want with her?”
“I wish I knew. It has to do with her magic.”
The Dark quirked a brow as he shot Fintan a confused look. “Why? What does she have that Bran doesn’t?”
“I don’t know.”
“You mean you didn’t take the time to find out?”
Fintan clenched his jaw for a moment. “Up until a few days ago, she believed she didn’t have any magic. That was because her grandfather had bound it. When Bran took him, it set her magic free.”
“What a fekking mess. Makes me wish I’d been here a few days ago,” Balladyn said with a smile. “So she doesn’t know how to control her magic?”
Fintan shook his head and looked at Cat’s house. There was a shiver of magic that had Fintan turning his head to look behind Balladyn. That’s when Kyran appeared while veiled. Fintan’s fellow Reaper stayed behind Balladyn, listening.
Balladyn ran a hand over his jaw. “Bran is amassing an army, killing Halflings, and out for revenge against the Reapers and Death. Tell me again why you’re involved.”
“I never said.”
“Right,” the Dark stated wryly. “Care to share now?”
“Not particularly.”
Balladyn leaned against the brick of the building. There was a long stretch of silence, then he said, “Would you consider returning to court?”
Fintan slowly turned his head to the Dark. “Why?”
“I think you’d be an asset.”
“To Taraeth?”
“To me.”
It was just as Fintan thought. Balladyn was going to overthrow Taraeth. Part of him wanted to be there to see it, or even be involved after what Taraeth had done to him. But he was a Reaper—and Reapers had other duties.
Fintan blew out a breath. “My time there is done.”
“Nothing will bring you back?”
“Nay.”
Balladyn’s lips twisted. “A pity. If I find out anything about Bran, I’ll let you know. Good luck.”
No sooner had Balladyn teleported away than Kyran dropped his veil. He raised a brow at Fintan. “Really? Balladyn?”
“We need answers. I was hoping he would be able to help. He did tell me at least ten more Dark have gone missing.”
Kyran’s lips flattened at the news as his red eyes looked Fintan over. “Does Balladyn know who you are?”
“Of course, not.”
“I suspect otherwise. He willingly helped you?”
Fintan shrugged. “He did, though he didn’t have much to share.”
“Cael filled me in on Cat. Have you made contact with her?”
“Yes.” Fintan hoped that was all Kyran would ask.
Kyran looked at him with raised brows. “And?”
“My plan to trap Bran didn’t work. In fact, he doesn’t want to kill Cat. He wants her help.”
Kyran’s face scrunched in confusion. “Why? Bran’s magic is growing. What use could he have for a Halfling with no magic?”
“She’s had magic all along. Her grandfather bound it.”
Kyran held up a hand. “Stop. Perhaps you’d better start from the beginning.”
Fintan quickly caught Kyran up but made sure to leave out his and Cat’s night of passion. The last thing he wanted was to talk about it, when he could barely wrap his head around what had happened.
“Damn,” Kyran said, drawing out the word. “If you hadn’t stumbled upon Cat, we wouldn’t know any of this. And Talin thought you’d have a hard time getting her to open up to you.”
Fintan merely shrugged. “She was scared, and I promised to protect her.”
“It was the right thing to do.”
“Aye.” He grew uncomfortable with the way Kyran was staring at him. “Stop it.”
“I can’t. There’s something different about you.”
“You’re mistaken.”
Kyran snorted. “I’m not. This vexes me.”
Fintan looked to the sky as he sought patience. “Don’t pick up Talin’s habits.”
“The word fits this scenario.”
“Leave it,” Fintan stated, glaring at him.
Kyran’s frown deepened, and then his eyes widened as his mouth dropped opened.
“Don’t,” Fintan warned. “Don’t say a fekking word.”
Kyran’s gaze jerked to the house and nodded, letting whatever he was going to say drop. “She lied to you.”
“I was there. I know.”
“I don’t like that,” Kyran said as his gaze returned to Fintan.
He shrugged. “She lied for her grandfather. I’d do the same if it were about Eoghan or if it involved any of you.”
“Family,” Kyran said. “I know all about the things we do for family. Do you care for her?”
Fintan squeezed his eyes closed as he pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. “I don’t want to talk about what I’m feeling or not feeling.” He dropped his arm and looked into Kyran’s red eyes. “What I want to do is kill Bran.”
“You’re going to follow her when she goes to Bran.”
“Hopefully, I’ll be able to stop whatever he has planned and kill him.”
Kyran crossed his arms over his chest. “You’re going to need help.”
“Not this time.”
“Especially this time. We’ve been looking for a way to get to Bran. Do you honestly think any of us is going to let you go after him alone after what happened with Eoghan? We stand together on this.”
Fintan shook his head. “One of us has been lost already. We can’t gather together in one place for Bran to target all of us again. I have to go alone. If something happens to me, it’s just me. Death needs us, whether she or Cael will admit it or not.”
“Look, I’m not going . . .” Kyran began before his words trailed off while he looked at Cat’s house.
Fintan shifted his gaze and found what had caught Kyran’s attention. Bran.
“I’m going to kill him,” Kyran ground out.
Fintan put a han
d on his chest to stop him and veiled both of them. “No. I have a plan.”
“It’s not a good one.”
“You haven’t heard all of it,” Fintan argued, then hoped Kyran didn’t ask to hear it because he had nothing to tell him. “Get to the others. Let them know what happened.”
Kyran shook his head. “Fintan, don’t.”
“This is happening now. There’s no time to argue. Do you follow me and leave the others in the dark about what’s going on? Or do you tell them?”
“I’m going to kick your arse when this is over,” Kyran ground out.
Fintan found himself wanting to grin. “You can try.”
“Leave a way we can track you.”
“I will.” Another lie. Fintan gave Kyran a nod as his friend teleported away.
Then he turned to the house to find Cat at the door, talking to Bran. He wanted to get closer, but he didn’t dare. Most likely, Bran had others watching the area.
The only thing that prevented him or Kyran from being discovered was that he’d set up a spell that prohibited anyone from seeing into the alley for just this reason.
He should’ve known that Bran would come for Cat sooner rather than later. Fintan balled his hands into fists when Bran motioned for Cat to follow him.
She stepped out of the house without her coat. This time, she didn’t look for him. Fintan walked from the alley toward them. His blood had begun to boil, the need to wipe out his enemy so great that he could think of nothing else.
It was the sight of Cat’s red hair that she flicked over her shoulder that broke through his murderous haze. Fintan halted his steps and squatted a few feet from them. If Bran sent any magic out, it would miss Fintan.
“Are you ready?” Bran asked her.
Cat lifted her chin. “Yes.”
Fintan whispered her name, linking him to her.
Bran held out his hand. As soon as she took it, they disappeared. Now that Fintan could track Cat, he was right behind them.
He half expected wards to be up, preventing him from following, yet there was nothing. That wasn’t like Bran at all. When Fintan arrived at the veiled, lavish manor and looked around, he immediately knew something was wrong.
It wasn’t until he tried to teleport that he realized what it was.
Bran had set a trap for him.