“Not on such short notice.” Lash weaves the straps of the battle leathers behind me and knots them securely. “Given months, years? I am certain we could find a solution. But in time to save your Kat? No. She has gone with Joran. Only a short time ago. They will not be far from the spot where she left the human realm. Go now.”
Slapping my back hard enough to send pain snaking through the deepest of my scars, he sends me stumbling towards the cliff. Towards the fissure between her world and mine. Fae can cross over at will—if they are strong enough. But humans should never be able to do so. Kat…is special. She is mine. And I will get her back.
I take off at a run, calling upon the air to carry me up, to weave a pathway between the two worlds, one that spits me out onto a darkened street in the middle of the night. Kat’s scent is weak, but still present, and I breathe deeply.
Fae magic works differently in the human realm, and I spin the air in a gentle vortex as I call out with all of my mental strength. “Joran! Where the fuck are you?”
Halfway down the block, a door opens, and Joran peers out. I am going to make him bleed if anything has happened to my Kat.
“Hurry,” he calls, and I race down the street, shove him back, and enter the old, dusty shop. A cloying scent hangs in the air, one that’s oddly familiar, but carries with it memories of intense pain. I search the cluttered space, finding Kat propped up against the wall, her breathing labored.
“Kat!” A hiss escapes my throat, half a word, and Joran takes a step back.
“Adrian?”
I ignore him as I kneel next to her. A second piece of the Phoenix—its head and one wing, are cradled in her injured hand, but where is the rest of it? Cupping her cheek, I hiss out her name again, and this time, it’s almost audible. “Kat.”
“Adrian?” she whimpers. Her eyelids flutter. “You’re…here.”
My voice won’t hold. The muscles are already starting to spasm, but I force out one more word. “Al…ways.”
Joran takes a knee on Kat’s other side. “Adrian, when we arrived, this dwelling was deserted, but the fragment of the artifact was sitting in the middle of the floor. Along with this.” He passes me a note, and I want to find its author and destroy him in the most painful way possible.
I have the third and final piece of the Phoenix of Osteria. Bring the other two pieces to me at the Hotel Dublin Park, and I will save her life. Fail, and she will die in utter agony.
“Don’t…do…it,” Kat manages and reaches for my hand. “He’ll…destroy your world.”
“You are my world, Kat. I will not let you die. Where is the Hotel Dublin Park?”
“Half…a mile away.” She presses my hand to her heart, which beats too rapidly to sustain her much longer. “He’ll…have security with him.” A coughing fit takes her, and black liquid tinges her lips. The poison is all through her now, invading the veins of the cool hand that holds mine. Yet she is still able to grip my fingers. “Iron, Adrian.”
“What about it?” Joran asks.
Her lips do not move, but still, I hear her words. “I didn’t realize until you told me what happened to you. He knows how to fight the Fae. I heard him on the phone once. He never goes anywhere without a small, custom-made pistol. One that shoots bullets made of iron.”
I land on my ass on the dusty floor. My entire right side throbs with the memory of an iron bullet piercing my flesh. Osteria. I know who this man is. And I do not know how in the world we are going to survive him.
Chapter Eight
Adrian
I had no choice. In order to give Kat the strength to stand, to even open her eyes, I had to help her drink some water. She will feel the effects—the undeniable pull to stay with me no matter what—for some time. At least it was only water, and not one of Lash’s draughts. Though that would at least have given her more strength.
But she’s coherent enough to direct us to the Hotel Dublin Park, and we enter through a back door after I use my air charms on the tumblers.
By giving us the Phoenix head, Miles ensured there is no way we could put the artifact back together without him—not even partially. Bastard. I need to get this poison out of my mate before it kills her, for if she dies, I fear I will perish with her.
“Do we have an actual plan?” Joran asks as we climb the emergency stairs to the top floor. “Or are we just planning on his good will to let us all walk out of there alive?”
“He has no good will. Not if he is who I think he is.”
“And?” With a roll of his eyes, Joran stops ahead of us on the stairs. I have Kat held against me, her feet barely touching the ground. “Are you planning on letting me know who we’re dealing with?”
Kat peers up at me, her eyes bloodshot and unfocused. “You…know him?”
I nod. “My father would never have been powerful enough to capture me alone. Until a few moments ago, I could not remember how he’d done it. Now…I do.”
“Are you going to get to the point?” Joran asks. “We are running out of time.”
“Don’t you think I know that?” I stifle my anger. This is not the time. “I was walking alone at night. Not far from the castle. There was a shot. An iron bullet pierced my side. I passed out, and when I came to, I was chained in a stone sarcophagus. He left me there for what felt like days. I could move a little, scream, sleep… He had not decided how best to torture me.” I shudder, remembering the burn of the iron chains wrapped around my entire body, how I thought nothing could cause me more agony than I was experiencing. How wrong I was.
I swallow, my throat tight. “When he came back for me, he had my brother and a second man with him. The other man was not Fae. He was a warlock, and as my father and brother held me down on the iron and stone altar, he was the one who spelled the chains binding me. He was the one who put the collar around my throat, who drove the iron spike into the ceiling so I would be forced to swallow the poisoned water every day for two centuries. He was the one who took my voice. And he gloated the whole time. How it had been his bullet that had taken me down.”
I touch my forehead to Kat’s, then reach for Joran’s hand. I need the three of us to be able to see the same image, and I do not know if I am strong enough to project it.
“Kat, is this your boss?”
I call upon the memory of the warlock with blond hair and black eyes.
“Yes,” she whispers.
Joran mutters an oath and drops my hand before punching the wall hard enough to leave a fist-sized hole in the plaster.
“He will die, Adrian. I swear to you.”
“If he does not kill us all first.”
Kat reaches a trembling hand up to cup my cheek. “Adrian,” she whispers. “Please don’t do this. Go back…to Faery…where you’re…safe.”
“No,” I grunt painfully before abandoning the effort of speaking audibly. “I will not leave you, Kat. And I will see him dead for what he has done to both of us.”
Joran claps his hand on my shoulder. “So, my friend. Do we have a plan?”
I remove the bottle Lash gave me. “This will destroy the Phoenix.”
“Fuck, Adrian. Why not simply pour that on the stone around Kat’s wrist?” Joran tries to grab for the bottle, but I hold it high over my head.
“Because it will also kill any living thing it touches. Our only hope is to put the Phoenix back together and then use the potion on the entire artifact.”
“Why are grand rescue plans always so damn complicated?” Joran asks with another eye roll.
“Because the ancient gods have a terrible sense of humor.”
The penthouse suite occupies the entire top floor of the small hotel, and we emerge from the stairwell into a lavish hallway with thick carpeting and polished brass fixtures. Kat struggles with each step, and if I cannot free her from this cursed poison soon, I fear it will be too late.
Standing behind Joran and Kat, I use my glamour to disguise myself as the owner of the occult shop, having mined Kat’s memories f
or the woman’s appearance. I hate not touching her. Hate even more that Joran must keep his arm around her waist, but my magic is much stronger than his. I do not know if my disguise will hold in the face of this warlock, but I must try.
Joran knocks, and the double doors swing open.
Fear punches me in the gut, and I fight not to cower. The warlock towers over us, flanked by two other large men wielding iron swords.
“Well now, Kitty Kat. How nice of you to accept my invitation.” He lunges forward and grabs her wrist, throwing her across the room where she hits a brocade sofa with a dull oomph and a whimper. Blood, mostly black, oozes from the broken piece of stone encircling her arm, and she curls into a ball, weeping quietly.
“Please,” she manages. “I did…what you…asked.”
“You broke the Phoenix and used it to travel to the Fae realm!” Osterman bellows. “And brought one of those bastards back with you.”
The two others with him brandish their swords, keeping us from taking even a single step towards my mate. Anger flares up deep inside me, threatening to take over. I must stay calm or I will be of no help to her.
The warlock grabs at the piece of stone embedded in Kat’s flesh. “Give it back, you worthless cunt!”
“She cannot,” Joran says sharply. “Not without this.” He holds up the piece Osterman left for us with the note. “All three pieces must be reunited at once while the mage from Cloch Anam performs the ritual.” He hands me the Phoenix head, and I bow slightly.
“What is this ritual?”
The bastard is still holding onto Kat, his fingers wrapped around the stone Phoenix tail, and her gaze begs me to find some way to put a stop to the endless pain. “Just a few more moments, sweet one. I promise.”
Joran speaks for me. “The mage would only say it was dark magic. I used all of my powers against her when we arrived back in this realm, and she would still not divulge her secrets.”
The warlock orders his guards to let me pass, but as I move into the room, one of them grabs Joran and holds the sword to his throat. My oldest friend hisses in pain, the iron burning his skin, and I can say nothing. Do nothing. My voice will not hold, and even if I could manage more than a single word, my glamour is only visual.
“Do what you must, crone,” Osterman growls. “But if the Phoenix is not mine in the next five minutes, you will all perish.” He tosses the third piece of the Phoenix—the body—onto the sofa, then drops Kat next to me. She’s barely conscious now, and I cannot comfort her.
Being this close to the man who bound me in iron makes me want to vomit, but I force my hands to steady as I pick up the two loose pieces of the Phoenix and reunite them.
A low hum fills the room, the stone statue vibrating as it melds together, and then, I take Kat’s hand. She does not even flinch, and when I try to reach her with my thoughts, I find no response.
“You cannot die on me. Not yet. Hold on, my love.”
As soon as I touch the Phoenix’s body to the stone around her wrist, electricity crackles over my skin, followed by a massive, percussive force that blows us all apart.
Joran cries out, and the scent of his blood fills the room. Kat lies still, half under the sofa, and the warlock holds the completed statue over his head.
“Finally! With the power of the Phoenix in my control, I will be able to conquer every realm. Starting with yours, Adrian.”
Fuck. I lost focus, and my glamour is no more. The second guard swings his iron sword and pierces my shoulder, pinning me to the floor as my mouth opens in a silent scream. It is too late. We have lost. We have all lost.
Chapter Nine
Kat
Nothing makes any sense. Miles stands over Adrian laughing. One of his goons—I think his name is Orson—pins Adrian to the floor with a heavy iron sword, and Joran lies in the corner, choking on his own blood, a wide gash across his neck.
I’m too weak to say a word, and all I can do is blink and pray.
“So, you managed to break my wards?” Miles asks with a shrug. “I was young then. Inexperienced. I will not make the same mistake twice.” He holds up the restored Phoenix, and I glance down at my arm. My skin is burned, almost blackened where the stone held on tight, and I’m bleeding. Too much. Thick, dark blood streams from the puncture wound just above my wrist.
Joran clasps his hands to his throat, spits out more blood, and rasps, “What did the Fae…ever do…to you?”
Miles stalks over to Adrian’s friend, and for a moment, I think he’s forgotten I exist. Or he thinks I’m dead. I meet Adrian’s pained gaze, and he flicks his eyes to the pouch he dropped when the Phoenix mended itself. The potion. If I can reach it…
I’m on my side, my good arm stretched towards him. I have to find the strength.
“Your king cheated me out of my rightful place at his side.” Miles aims a kick to Joran’s gut, and the Fae coughs up more blood. I inch closer to Adrian, the guard standing over him distracted by Miles. “He promised me endless riches, boundless power, and an entire realm that would fall at my feet in fear every time I walked by.”
“What can…I say?” Joran manages a smile. “The former king…was an ass.”
My fingers close around the pouch as the second guard, the one whose sword almost sliced through Joran’s neck, notices me move. “Master! The girl!”
Master? The word barely has time to register before Miles shouts a phrase I can’t understand, and I’m thrown into the thick, double-paned window behind the sofa.
Glass shatters, digging into my skull, but thank God the second pane only cracks. But I’m still holding the pouch.
“No!” Adrian’s cry is deafening inside my head, but all noise falls away as I hit the ground and the bottle breaks underneath me with a sickening crunch.
The liquid burns. It’s eating through my tunic, setting my skin on fire. My scream turns into a wail, and then I can’t breathe.
“Kat!” This time, Adrian speaks aloud. So clearly, with such conviction, I force my eyes open even as I struggle to draw air into my lungs. He balls his hands into fists, his biceps bulge under his battle leathers, and his neck cords. “You. Will. Not. Take. Her.”
Each word is stronger than the last, and when Miles laughs, something breaks inside my Fae warrior. He grabs the iron sword in both hands, shoving it up so the hilt smacks Miles’s guard in the nose. His palms bleed, but he’s free.
I still can’t breathe. Can’t move. It’s like I’m stuck in some suspended animation. Or one of those movies where the last moments of someone’s life proceed in slow motion. Except, Adrian springs to his feet lightning fast.
He wrestles the Phoenix away from my boss, but Miles catches him with a punch to the wound in his shoulder and sends him reeling back. The Phoenix lands only inches from me, and the power…it’s like it calls to me.
You can survive this, daughter of the sun. Use your gifts.
The old woman. She’d called me the same thing. Daughter of the sun. I’m the daughter of Sam Atkins of Wichita, Kansas. Not the sun. What can I do?
My fingers start to ache, then tingle like something inside me is begging to be released, and as I stare at them, they start to glow. The Phoenix vibrates, then starts to rock, and I stretch my hand as far as it will go, until the statue slams into my palm and I drag it through the pool of potion spreading out from under me.
A single, shaking breath is all I can manage before the everything in the room starts to spin. It’s like a tornado, picking up the lamps, the duvet, the dresser drawers…everything. Adrian roars—it’s more of a rasping breath than anything, but its power fills the space, lifting me up with it. The Phoenix bursts into a thousand pieces, and the shards dig into my chest, but I don’t care. I launch myself at Miles, wrapping my arms around him in the desperate hope Lash was right and anyone who touches this stuff will die.
Miles screams, then starts to choke and gasp, until Adrian wraps his hands around my boss’s head and snaps his neck.
Adrian
Kat is covered in blood and that cursed poison, and as she falls on top of the warlock, I do not know what to do. Joran sinks down against the wall, and I look between the two of them.
“I’ll live,” Kat whispers. “Help Joran.”
“How?”
But even as I take a step towards her, she pushes up on an elbow and offers me a weak smile before her eyes widen and she flings her hand out, light flaring from each finger. The beams miss me, but the two guards behind me cry out. When I turn, I cannot believe what I see. They are both burnt—almost to ash—and their swords are red hot. With a burst of my air magic, I lift the swords and drive the blades through the corpses for good measure.
By the time I tear a strip of fabric from my tunic and wrap it around Joran’s throat, Kat has managed to get to her feet and is rifling through the closet in the bedroom. She returns wearing a long, blue dress shirt and I can smell that bastard on the material.
“No. You will not wear that.”
Kat arches a brow at me. “It’s either this or a poison-covered tunic that will kill either of you if you touch me. Make a choice.”
I do. In three steps I’m in front of her, my good arm around her waist, pulling her against me. “You are mine, Kat.” Clearing my throat, I add emphasis and force the single word so both she and Joran can hear. “Mine.”
“Then take me back to Faery, Adrian.”
“And for fuck’s sake, assume the throne,” Joran adds hoarsely. “Because I am going to need to recuperate somewhere incredibly comfortable. Like the royal castle.” He coughs, and blood stains his lips.
“You will want for nothing, Joran. But first, we must return to the place the veil is thinnest. I cannot take all three of us back to Faery from here.”
Our trip back to Cloch Anam is much longer than it should be. I must support Joran and keep Kat tucked against my side. My glamour hides us from passersby and just outside the shop, I close my eyes and picture Faery in my mind.
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