Lightness Falling (Lightness Saga Book 2)

by Stacey Marie Brown

  “Marguerite’s all right?”

  “Yeah. Goran got her home safely.”

  Lorcan let out a breath. “Good. Anyone touched her, I’d kill them myself.”

  “I didn’t know you knew her so well.” My brows furrowed.

  Lorcan leaned back on his heels and glanced at the string of Christmas lights still dripping down the lane, guiding us back to the square, his breath curling into the dark night. “I’ve spent a lot of time at the compound. She likes to cook for me and my boys. I’d protect her like my own.” He glimpsed back at me, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Cole isn’t the only entrepreneur. Working for the King is highly lucrative.” I knew the relationship between the split groups, especially the three brothers, was healing, but they would never be one group again. Lorcan was alpha. He’d never go back to being beta.

  “You work for Lars?” I couldn’t imagine Lorcan taking orders from anyone. Or Lars letting the murderer of his true love work for him.

  “We’ve learned to operate together. It’s still touchy, but he understands putting away his emotions for the common good,” Lorcan replied, like he had heard my thoughts. “He hires my pack to do what we do best. What we were meant to be.”

  “What does that mean?” A rope looped around my gut like a lasso, tightening.

  Lorcan lifted his eyebrow, his expression saying what do you think?

  I took a step back, and my stomach plummeted. “Assassins?”

  “You are still trying to find the good man in me. I told you once he doesn’t exist.” A smirk twisted his mouth. “Cole’s group does all the aboveboard and gray area transactions and dealings. My clan picks up the rest. We do what needs to be done.”

  “What do you mean? You murder people?”

  “That’s the last resort. But I do what I must.” The muscles along his jaw strained. “What I do for him is my business, but don’t think for one moment the people I’m dealing with are the pillars of society. Believe me.”

  “You don’t have to. I know you, Lorcan; you’re better than this.”

  “No, Ken. You just want me to be.”

  “What you did for Eli? For me?”

  “Fuck!” he burst out, his hands running over his head. “Stop trying to make me into Jared or even your new boyfriend. I am a fucking dweller, Ken. If you can’t accept me for who I truly am, then you were right to say goodbye to me in the tunnel.”

  “I’m not trying to make you Jared.”

  A sardonic laugh chuckled from him. “Please. Jared is right here.” He motioned to the space between us. “He always will be. We can accept his ghost, deal with the pain and guilt, or we do what we always do. Ignore it.” He started for me, forcing me to step back. His face loomed close to mine, his eyes coiling with red. “I’ve tried to fuck you out of my thoughts, out from under my skin. But nothing worked... until this exact moment.”

  Oxygen snapped into my lungs, burning my throat.

  “All I needed was to see the truth in your eyes. The horror. The need to want to change me,” he spit out. “Now I realize you could never have accepted me. Been with me. I’m a killer, Kennedy. It’s who I am.”

  No. No. No. My mouth went dry, struggling to swallow. I hadn’t even realized somewhere deep down hope had been flowering. For us to have a chance. Now it crumbled at my feet.

  I was Queen. The Queen of Light. A Druid who believed in healing and protecting and opposed everything Lorcan stood for. Two opposing sides that could never meet up. With a final snap, I felt my heart tear apart. The truth set in, the ache sinking so deep my bones throbbed with grief.

  I was a fool. We would never be. The conclusion was so clear. I squeezed my eyes shut. The tears I thought had dried stung the back of my lids.

  We stood in tense silence.

  “Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he whispered. He stared down the street. I couldn’t respond, my teeth sawing into my bottom lip until I tasted the tang of blood.

  “Let’s go get dinner. I’m sure you’re hungry.” Detached, he started to walk down the street, his shoulders stiff, hands deep in his pockets.

  Food was the last thing I wanted now. My stomach overflowed with sorrow. Whatever dream I had secretly been holding on to vanished. I thought I had said goodbye to him before, but I hadn’t.

  The impossibility of our situation truly settled in. Finally pushing out the last bits of hope.

  The next morning, the frigid air in the room was not from the open window. Both of us said as little as possible to each other. Some wounds you can patch over, but others go too deep. Our chasm was too large to fill. Jared’s death left a sharp canyon between Lorcan and me that tore my heart and shredded my soul into dust, and I would never be able to get past what he did for a living.

  I silently followed him out, tucking my hands and face deeper into my clothing to keep warm. We needed to eventually get more clothes besides the ones we bought at the train station yesterday, but Lorcan wanted to wait till after the meeting that night. I think he hoped deep down his shift would be over and he no longer had to be on Kennedy watch.

  He sat us down at a café, a tiny table overlooking the Rhine River, the string of arched bridges connecting the two sides in procession. Thick fog hovered over the water as the large white swans glided along like they drifted on clouds.

  The style of the buildings with their white facades and dark A-line roofs made you feel you were in some fairy tale, reminding me a little of the village around my own castle. A place I had never gotten to enjoy or explore. But here I felt a strange sense of freedom. Even with my hood up, my back turned to the guests, under the constant threat of being discovered, I still felt more liberty.

  A waitress came to our table—young, beautiful, blonde, and blue eyed. Exactly what you pictured coming out of Switzerland to be the next top model. She wore no makeup, but was stunning with her long silky hair and perfect skin.

  Her eyes widened when they landed on Lorcan, pupils dilating, her aura flaring with red so bright she looked like a freaking Christmas tree.

  “Guete morge.” A blush hinted at her pale complexion, her gaze focused on the dweller.

  A huge bad-boy smile spread over Lorcan’s face, quickly running his eyes over her, causing her blush to deepen. “Guete morge.”

  Let me say I had never, ever been a jealous person. It wasn’t in my nature.

  Until I met Lorcan.

  Lorcan Dragen brought out every emotion with abundance. One smile or word and he could have me planning his death or wanting to tear his clothes off. Even after what he said last night, my urges had yet to catch up, causing a frustrating battle inside me. The goodbye last night was deafening, but still I sat here ready to jump over the table.

  My teeth ground together as he spoke fluent Swiss-German to her and pointed at the menu. She leaned down, her long blonde hair tickling his arm as she looked at what he pointed at. Their faces were close.

  A sensation gripped me like a vise. A growl from the depths of my being drew through the sludge, spiking the back of my brain with feral possessiveness.

  Mine.

  I shook my head, trying to dislodge the thought immediately.

  Lorcan’s eyes slid to me, his head still turned to the waitress. She didn’t seem to hear me, but he certainly had.

  Anger briefly coated the embarrassment heating my body. But I had no right. He could flirt or be with anyone he wanted. I had sent him away. He had merely confirmed what I had already destroyed. I looked down, hiding the flicker of pain pinching my forehead.

  She nodded, touched his arm, then turned from the table. She glanced over one more time before heading to the back. She didn’t look like a bitch or some boyfriend stealer, but I still wanted to punch her. Or did I want to punch him?

  A smirk lifted his lip, along with an eyebrow.

  Him. Definitely him.

  I turned my head to the river, feeling his gaze burn my skin. But being as stubborn as me, he stayed silent. “What?” I spat, directing my
irritation at him.

  “Green. It’s really your color.” He sat back, the smugness on his expression blooming like a flower.

  “Shut up.”

  “I’m not actually into you peeing on me, but if you want to wrestle her...” He shrugged. “I’m all for it.”

  “You really are despicable.”

  He sat up, leaning over the tiny table, his face a few inches from mine. “I thought we already established that.” His voice was thick and heavy like the fog clinging to the water. “And you made it perfectly clear you didn’t care what or who I did.”

  “I don’t.” I threw out the words, hoping they would stick. The solid goodbye I had felt last night seemed flimsy in the morning light. Like his adieu made me want him more. Declare my claim.

  “Keep telling yourself that.” He sat back as the waitress returned with two coffees, fried eggs, and rösti, one of the popular potato dishes around here.

  I dug in while he and the server exchanged a few more words I didn’t understand. His hand gripped her wrist with a squeeze. “Merci.”

  “Nut z’dangge.” She exhaled, her cheeks spiking deep crimson.

  Two bites and my breakfast already wanted to come back up.

  Whether or not purposely trying to make me jealous, I couldn’t deny it. I hated the sensation, this protectiveness that made me act like a cavewoman. And I almost used my knife as a club when he overtly watched her walk away, her hips swinging a little more than they had earlier.

  His gaze came back to me, and I tried to school my expression into neutral, but by the glint in his eyes, I failed miserably.

  “I didn’t know you could speak Swiss-German.” I changed the topic, seeking neutral ground to stand on again.

  “I’ve been alive a long time and used to live in a world where all languages were spoken and intermixed.”

  “How many do you know?” I had gotten through conversational Spanish and French, but that was it.

  The fingers curled around his fork, lifted up as he counted. “Ten fluently.”

  My mouth dropped open.

  “Ten?”

  “It would almost be eleven, but I’m a bit rusty in Mandarin.”

  “Now you’re simply showing off.”

  “It was how I grew up. But since we’ve been on Earth, in the States, I barely use half of them.”

  I had to be honest with myself: my nerd girl just got totally turned on.

  “You?”

  “Spanish and French.” I swallowed some of the warm potato rösti with eggs. “There were only three of us who took both all through school.”

  “Why am I not surprised?” He chuckled, scooping in another bite.

  “I am an overachiever.” I leaned forward. “I thought we already established that.”

  His irises flickered, the smile dropping from his mouth. His lips held a sheen of butter, and I had the urge to bite down on his bottom lip.

  “Exguusi?” The waitress stood at our table, jerking us both back in our chairs. She stood there with a white piece of paper in her hand.

  My brain thought it was our bill, until her hand reached toward me with the folded paper. “For you,” she said in English.

  I took it from her, and the moment I did, she swiveled around and walked to the kitchen. Lorcan’s brows furrowed as I unfolded the note. Air caught, snaking like a weed around my lungs. The words came off the page and choked me.

  Two false Queens, but the one who hides dies.

  My heart thumped in my throat. Someone knew I was here. Watching me. Playing with me.

  “What?” Lorcan snatched it, his eyes roaming over the words. “Shit.” He was up, his chair tipping back, his head jerked all over the restaurant, pulling in deep breaths. I knew he wouldn’t pick up anything. Magic was thick in Europe, and with the humans, fae, and food all in a large room, he had little chance to isolate the scent of one.

  He tugged out his wallet, threw down some euros, and grabbed my arm. “Come on.” He shoved me before him, his attention still scanning the room. Only a few looked up at our abrupt exit, but none seemed really interested in us.

  I pushed through the door, the frigid air shocking my lungs and chilling my bones. Many questions hatched in my head, but I stayed quiet while he wormed us through the city. We rushed through the streets, taking random turns down alleyways, the feel of a ghost constantly on our tail.

  How did they find me? I had nothing on me from the castle. We didn’t even have the walkie-talkies. How would a spy find out about our whereabouts?

  Lorcan got us to the train station quickly. Tickets in hand, he jogged us toward the train heading to Zurich. His physique was rigid and agitated, hunching over like a predator, scaring every person we passed. A woman tugged her child away from him, hiding the little boy behind her.

  The knowledge of fae had created a palpable terror spreading across the nations. Fear brought out the worst in people: violence, ignorance, rage, and hate. A handful of fae deserved it, but most didn’t. In general society, it didn’t matter if you were innocent. If you were part of that race, you were guilty.

  “How did they know where we were?” I asked as we neared the train.

  Lorcan continued to scan the hundreds of people mulling around the station. “I don’t know. But I’m starting to rethink your group of trusted confidants.” He grabbed my arm, pulling me down the number ten platform. “Any reason any one of them would want you hurt?”

  “No.” I shook my head ardently. “I trust them all with my life.”

  “That’s the problem,” he responded. “And why you would be so easy to take out.”

  “Torin, Castien, and Thara have saved my life so many times, so why wouldn’t they just let something happen to me one of those times? And Olivia could easily do something to me at any time. No. I trust them completely. Plus, none know my exact whereabouts now. Lars doesn’t even know.”

  “He would be the one to benefit the most from your demise though.” Lorcan glanced behind us again, his hand pushing on my back. “The one who rules everyone becomes exceedingly powerful.”

  “You think this is Lars’s doing?” I gaped as we moved past the first couple of train cars. “Are you serious? Why would he do that? Doesn’t make sense. He hired you to protect me.”

  “And what a good cover. Pretend to be protecting you at all cost, while you get taken out by a rebel group. He wouldn’t be the first ruler to use that playbook.”

  I cringed. Aneira used Lorcan to secretly kill her sister while she played the devastated sister and Queen.

  “No.” I refused to accept it.

  “I’m not saying he is. I’m simply suggesting he would have the most to gain. No Seelie Queen, he governs all.”

  I still couldn’t imagine Lars going through this just to get rid of me, especially because I had grown to respect and care for him. I thought he felt the same about me. I did not want to believe he could be deceiving me. And because I was a seer, he would have to be excellent at hiding his true feelings.

  Then again, he was the Unseelie King. He had the power to hide whatever he wanted from anyone. I couldn’t deny the trickle of truth at Lorcan’s idea. Lars would benefit from something happening to me. I shoved the idea away, not wanting to believe it.

  “Here.” Lorcan pointed to a compartment. As I leaped for the steps, my mind seized. White light careened into my head, shoving my consciousness from my body.

  Flash.

  I sat up, drawing in gulps of air. My sight took in the small compartment, the gingerbread-like houses and vibrant green grass whizzing by the train window.

  A hand touched my back, jerking me around.

  “You’re all right, Ken,” the man next to me said. His jeans crumpled where I had laid my head on his leg.

  I blinked, my lungs still heaving, but I knew he was my tether. My safety.

  “I’m here.” Lorcan’s hands glided over my jaw. “This is real.”

  The door handle clicked, and the door slid open, spin
ning my gaze to the intruders. Two men stood on the other side, one with green hair, one white blond, their eyes bright violet.

  Fairies.

  The threat was instinctual. Instant. Fear scorched my muscles, locking them in place, my mouth open, but nothing came out.

  Lorcan shoved me back, my shoulders ramming painfully into the wall next to the window. He jumped to his feet as the two large men, holding swords, crammed through and blocked our exit.

  Lorcan sprang for them, a roar piercing the small compartment. I scrambled to my feet, my heart pounding in my ears, a spell opening my mouth.

  The moment I opened my mouth to speak, the blond man shoved Lorcan back; the other with green hair lifted his sword and swung.

  Time hazed around the edges as I watched the blade cut through the air. Aiming for Lorcan’s neck.

  “Noooo!” A scream shredded my throat as the edge sliced cleanly through, blood spraying over my face as his head detached from his body, knocking into the wall with a thud. His frame crumbled in a heap at my feet. His head had dropped onto the bench seat; green eyes stared up at me.

  A guttural screech shook me as I fell to the ground, the cry booming around the room, bouncing off the walls, and crashing back on me in an echo of torture.

  Flash.

  I shot up, air fighting to get in and out of my lungs. The pounding of my heart strangled my throat. I blinked and looked around. The hum of the train rocked the compartment, and those gingerbread houses and green grass sped across the window.

  Confused. Scared. But this also felt familiar.

  A touch on my back whipped my neck around, oxygen lodged in my throat. A man sat there, his well-known green eyes looking into mine.

  “You’re all right, Ken,” he said, his jeans creased from where my head lay.

  Lorcan.