by Elle Lincoln
I can’t help it, I laugh. “There is no fucking way you can accomplish that.” Kelsie is too strong, too powerful. My only hope is to dose her with something to clear her mind and get her to understand what she is doing—manipulating everyone around her just isn’t who she really is.
“You don’t know what I’m capable of, child,” she sneers. It seems time has changed her as well. It’s truly incredible how quickly someone can change once the world survives apocalyptic measures.
“I don’t, but Kelsie has grown out of hand.”
“Don’t you think I don’t know that?” Her anger distorts her beautiful face. This woman I once considered a mother is nothing but an angry woman trying to survive. Yet reminding myself of that doesn’t change the circumstances. “You want to bind the Fae, create a cure for their minds. You think I haven’t seen my daughter slipping away over the last year? You weren’t here!”
I wince, but I don’t back down. “Circumstances were out of my control, but I see it now.”
“You came back, but she was slipping months prior to that. We’ve been working on a serum since then. Keeping her bound.”
I laugh. “She kept herself bound!” I shake my head. “That much was visible. She was in control until she fucking wasn’t. Binding her powers won’t help her. Giving her a serum won’t help her.” My voice softens as it clicks into place. “There is nothing that can help her now. Her magic will kill her. She far too powerful.”
“I have to have hope,” her mother whispers into the early dawn. “Let us try.”
I can’t tell them no, I can only nod. I turn to Balor, whose arms are crossed as he stares everyone down. “Anyone else?”
“No.” His glances over the crowd, without his eye patch every person he makes eye contact with cringes just a little.
“Don’t use your power unless you have to,” I remind him, but I already know he won’t. That eye chips away at his soul each time he uses it.
He grunts in reply. “Are we ready?”
I swallow, turning to Casseus. “A word?”
His usual playful smile is anything but, as sadness causes dark circles under his eyes. I grip his hand, leading him away from the crowd as they all talk tactical plans.
“Bring him back to us.” The words choke in my throat. I can’t imagine him failing. “You come back too.”
Cas leans into me, his forehead resting against my own. “I have the easy part. It’s you I’m worried about. We still don’t know Ryoden’s grand plan here.”
“Ya know, I don’t think he has one.” My eyes close as I inhale his scent, letting it wrap around me in complete comfort for just the briefest of moments.
“I worry you’re right.” His breath feathers over my lips.
“Why worry?”
“Because with no motivation, he has no limit. When you have no limit, you care not for consequences or life.” He pauses. “I know Kelsie hasn’t made the best decisions, but I understand her reasons for not wanting to kill her father.”
I nod, holding back my emotions. “I know you felt Mac’s decisions as betrayal.”
He cuts me off before I can even continue. “I looked through his memories while he slept. Bee, he was dying. We would have lost him. I’d sell my soul to the djinn to get him back. I’d do the same for all of you.”
“I want every single day with you guys. In every way. I want to plan a future.”
“Kids?” he asks hopefully.
“We have Ember.” I smile. “Bring her back too. Please.”
“I doubt I have to worry about her.” He isn’t wrong. “We should go.”
I lean in, brushing my lips against his gently at first, until my emotions overpower my thoughts and an angry demand burns through me. I nip at him, biting as my worry grows. With each brutal swipe of my tongue, he meets me, never pulling back, but instead dueling me, challenging me.
A gentle cough has us pulling away. Balor stands there, and he jerks his head to the left before he walks away.
“That’s our cue.” Casseus grips my hand, walking to the clearing where Ember sits in dragon form. Letting my hand drop, Cas shifts into the raven. His wings flap to land on Ember before they both take off into the early dawn.
My heart feels heavy from having two of my guys apart from us. I only hope by the end of the day we are whole again.
Chapter 23
Bette
Confrontation
I watch until they fade from view, becoming nothing more than a spec in the dawn. I blink away my tears. Even with the promise of forever, it isn’t guaranteed.
Nothing is.
I turn as the voices of those around me breach my heavy heart. Blowing out a breath, I put my game face on. Time to end this shit show.
“Are we ready?”
“Yes. Casseus gave me exact locations. Move with stealth. Go unseen.” Balor nods to me. My indication to dissolve the rest of the guys into the mist.
I would have preferred to fly, getting an aerial view, however, the fact that my cloak is entirely white it wouldn’t do us any good. Colors like that just don’t exist in nature. If ever, the rarity would quick become a red flag.
We need every advantage as time slips away.
I watch as the witches head out on foot, my mind turning to the assumption they would fly out on brooms. Shame that isn’t reality, it would have lent amusement to this entire situation. A commodity that I hope becomes a daily occurrence after this is finished.
I may be a fool for having hope. But without hope, the world would turn to desolation that it may not come back from. Right now, everything is salvageable.
My eyes dart to the banshees as their cloaks flutter behind them, turning into leathery grey wings. Their bodies the same shade and nude, completely fucking nude. As they take to the sky the only ones left are us and Aeden.
He looks directly into my eyes, seeing through the mist and into my soul. A nod and then the earth swallows him whole.
“Didn’t see that comin’!” Patrick retorts, breaking the moment.
“Let’s go.” I pull them out through the forest, with Balor sending me visuals of where we need to go. It amazes me the ease in which my body moves in this form now. As though I’d been doing so forever, contorting around brush and trees, and through leaves the size of a car. My nerves rush at me the farther we go, passing homes rotting from the lack of care. Some patched together as a few survivors struggle to keep them from falling.
Buildings pass by in a blur, their bricks chipping and falling in heaps, and their windows shattered, their glass lying upon the overgrown grass below. We pass all of it as structures crumble to the earth.
Ahead, the banshees land. The witches are farther behind us, but moving quickly. Until as one we stop, peeking below upon a valley, our movements quiet and concealed. As I allow gravity to weigh me down, my eyes stay peeled for Kelsie, knowing she is hiding somewhere amongst the trees. Watching. Waiting.
Our small ragtag team breaks apart, as each takes a position all along the mountain range, glancing down upon the valley below. Boulders sit with moss growing over their sides, grass and wild flowers climbing to unusual heights. The sun, now peaking toward noon, casts her hazy rays upon the clearing. If it weren’t for the fact that I know it is all a lie, this place would be the perfect picnic spot. A place to put the worry of life behind me and lie in the sun, watching as clouds roll by in impossible shapes. With miles between mountains, the clearing looks impossibly large itself. I can’t tell if that is real or a lie.
Yet the clearing itself is a lie. A bubble created by magic, where the Fae can hide in plain sight. Warping matter that unsuspecting individuals would know nothing about as they accidentally pass through, entering what seems like a whole new world.
Yet it is nothing more than an enchantment.
The bubble itself isn’t good or bad, its existence isn’t the issue. The issues are whether those who wander in are allowed out, and if the courts that reign inside so do with logic o
r insanity.
Emotion catches in my throat as Mac walks forward, his chin lifted and without regret or remorse. Those sea green eyes look back at me only once before he walks down the mountain. His feet sturdy and sure.
Show time.
The words echo across my link, vibrating through me and to each of the guys. My breathing slows as my eyes scan every tree and bush, looking for Kelsie and her hiding place. Yet no branches rustle, no leaves or twigs crunch. There is only Mac as he makes his way down into the valley. His tan pants dirty, his usual sweater forgotten, replaced with a red t-shirt, making a visible statement.
“Ryoden!” His voice echoes across the valley. His steps pause, and his hand reaches out to skim the edge of the bubble. “Ryoden!” Mac takes several steps backward just as Ryoden strolls out from seemingly nowhere, wearing another white cotton outfit.
My neck prickles as the witches arrive. Their footsteps sure as they make their way into position.
“Mac Lir.” Ryoden crosses his arms, his eyes scouting the tree line. “Have you come to surrender?”
My body goes cold. That was never once the agreement. But I should have known better.
Mac scoffs, “No. I have come to declare crimes against the Fae.”
Ryoden’s laughter echoes all around us. “There is no one to police your claims, Mac.”
“I stand here representing the sea. Those who live and thrive there. Your actions against humans and Fae alike has gone on far too long. No longer will we allow you to enslave those who deserve their freedom.”
“Slaves do not require freedom, Mac. You should know that by now. They are merely property. One that belongs to me.” Ryoden cocks his head to the side as though listening to something none of us can hear.
“Your mind is broken, you must find a way to heal it.” My fists clench at Mac’s words. Either Ryoden accepts that he needs the help. Or he doesn’t. I’m betting that he won’t accept it. Which terrifies me. When a mind fractures, it goes unknown.
Ryoden’s laughter holds an edge of danger to it. His arms fall to his sides as he takes a step closer to Mac. This time, he leans in close, speaking in a hushed tone none of us can hear. Yet his eyes glance to the tree line and he smiles.
He knows we are here. My head jerks to Balor, my hand flying out to slam his bicep. His arm catches my hand gently and his eyes darken, the red one deepens in color. He’s aware. I feel like a fool believing we could sneak up on him.
The damage is done. My eyes seek out Mac. His jaw clenched as he takes a step backwards.
“Oh, Bette!” Ryoden’s voice rings out. My teeth clench as a ripple of awareness spreads through my body.
I step forward, yet Balor holds me back. He breath warms my neck as his words brush my ears. “Careful.” He pats me on the ass as I walk away, giving the moment that one small necessary break in seriousness.
I walk slowly, carefully down to the valley. My nerves settle as a mental exhaustion takes over. I’m already moving on past this entire ordeal before it even begins.
My feet touch the grass and dew dampens my cloak as I near Ryoden and Mac.
“That’s far enough.” Ryoden holds up his hand, commanding me to stay where I am. “What did you believe would happen today, Bette?”
I shrug. “Took a chance.”
“You should turn around.” I want to kick the smug smile off his face.
My jaw grinds and a vein tics in my forehead. My eyes land on Balor and the Fae holding a shaky knife to his neck. Every single one of our ragtag crew has a Fae holding a knife to their neck. Some not even tall enough to reach the guys or the banshees. But not the witches. I swear, if they faltered or switched teams, I’ll kill every one of them.
Then I feel it, the tip of a knife at my neck. The hand steady and sure. Deft, even as Ryoden walks around me. His beauty is tainted by the glow of insanity in his eyes. Everywhere the blade touches my skin burns, telling me it’s more than just a fucking knife, even if I don’t know exactly what it is.
“Why use commoners,” my eyes flicker up to his, “and not soldiers?”
“I’d be a fool to use soldiers. Their loyalty can falter, break, and then what? Then I have a soldier who can overthrow me. But knights. They make much more sense. With a blood oath, they must obey.” His hand turns the knife, nicking my skin. His eyes follow the swell of blood I feel running down my neck.
“You didn’t answer the question,” I point out, annoyed with this fucking show.
“No, I didn’t.” He steps closer and it takes everything in me not to retreat. “Commoners have everything to lose.”
“You threaten them with the lives of the ones they love,” I spit, disgusted.
“You are no different.” He leans in, his stale breath wrinkling my nose. “I watched you. I watched as you took down all those people. Then I watched you as you buried them. One by one. You drug them across the pavement. Dug their graves.”
“Stop it.”
“Does that bother you? That you are capable of insane things?” he taunts.
“You are no different than me. You never will be.”
He’s wrong. I’m not like him. I stay silent, refusing to speak.
“Oh yes, Bette. What say you? Be my queen.” He leans in, inhaling long and hard. “I’ll let you kill anyone you want.” He takes half a step back, his smile bright.
“No.” I hardly get the words out as I do my best to bury the disgust in myself. I’m not happy with my actions, but this world is different. Hardening my resolve, I look up at him and sneer, “The difference between you and me, Ryoden, is that I regret my actions.”
“You can’t regret feeding your precious children,” he mocks.
I hate that he’s fucking right. I would never regret choosing the Sluagh, keeping them vibrant. Even if they are the souls of dead sinners.
He tsks under his tongue. “No, you don’t regret that, do you?”
I jerk away from him, taking a chance with the knife and letting it slice my skin. Agony tears through me. Mac yells something intelligible as a roaring blasts through my ears. I fall to my knees as my hand reaches up to touch the wound. I look down as my hand come into view, finding black blood.
“Oh, that you should not have done that.”
“What did you do to me?” Why the fuck is my blood black?
“Well, it seems that all immortals can die. You just have to find a way.” He looks at the blade in his hand, a small band of black blood sizzles before dripping to the ground.
“What have you done?” I already feel the drain.
“It took a while longer than I would have hoped, and we lost a lot of people.” Horror swells with his words. “But we eventually got it right.”
Patrick flies through the forest, kneeling before me, and a cut on his own neck matches my own. Yet he bleeds red. His hands fly to my neck and panic etches his face.
“There is one drawback. I haven’t quite figured out how to kill a leprechaun.” Ryoden taps Patrick on the shoulder. “I don’t think you can save her. It’ll be a slow death.” He shakes his head as though that fact actually bothers him, the asshole.
“There’s always a way.” Patrick lets out a long whistle followed by several short ones.
“I swear that’s Morse code,” I mumble, feeling my body heat up.
“Close. Immortal code.” Patrick winks.
“That was the missing ingredient, you know,” Ryoden states, without a hint of remorse. “I finally found one.”
“Kill him, I won’t look,” I grumble.
“Don’t, then they all die.” I swear he’s like a cockroach that just won’t go away.
“What the fuck do you want?” I struggle to stand on shaky legs. Patrick supports me, one arm wrapped around my waist.
“Well, I wanted a queen, but now you went and killed yourself,” Ryoden whines. “Now I have to kill them all!”
“No more death,” I grind out.
A popping echoes off the mountains around us and pain
assaults my ears. Patrick sweeps me up then down to the ground as what sounds like gunshots take over. But Ryoden’s laughter tells another story.
“You brought witches! How very clever. Look at them, destroying my bubble!” He continues to laugh.
Patrick rolls off me, helping me to stand once more. I turn to find the valley has deepened. Full of blooming lush vegetation, a castle rises to reach the sky. All around us sits small huts with smoke billowing out of their chimneys. Somehow, he kept those from us. This whole scene. Even the fucking castle I was once held prisoner in. Yet not everything transferred from the Realm. Gone is the stage and many stalls and some spires. It’s as though only half of what was once the summer court rose up.
Dread swells in me. This isn’t the right place to do this. I hear a child crying in the distance. A dog barking. We need to get the fuck out of here and fast. But my energy is draining as whatever was on that knife threatens to take me down.
“Hello, Father.” I close my eyes as Kelsie’s voice puts a knife in my gut.
Chapter 24
Bette
A Fae’s Revenge
“So much for disappearing,” Mac mumbles under his breath. I glance over at him, watching him rub his throat. He gives me a relaxed smile. At least someone is feeling good about this shit show, because it sure as hell isn’t me.
“I couldn’t very well just let you have all the fun, now could I?” I’m almost afraid to look. Her words hold nothing they should. Gone is my happy best friend. That woman I laughed with, cried with, got hungover with. She just isn’t the same. It feels as though something is crushing my soul.
Then I look at her. Those pink sweatpants are so filthy, I can smell the rot from here as she stands behind her father. Her shirt is so torn it’s incredible that it even covers her fucking nipples, and her hair is matted even worse than when I saw her days ago.
“Kelsie.” My voice croaks.
“Not now, Bette.”
My eyes glance to the left, looking for Balor. I don’t dare move my head too far for fear that one of the immortals in front of me will flip out. My palms begin to sweat as anxiety rides my nerves at not being able to see the guys.