by Elle Lincoln
I laugh at him. “You guys should get going, Ember will lead the way, it’s a few hours west.”
“How’s Bette?” Logan’s eyes look haunted and full of sorrow.
“Not sure, I cut the link off to find you. I expected a fight, but didn’t find one.” I rub my chin. “I hear this area isn’t safe, you should go.”
“You aren’t coming with us?” Logan’s face twists in worry.
“Not yet, I’ll come back, but there’s something I have to do first.” Logan’s brows pull down in confusion. I know he’s about to argue the point, so I cut him off first. “Go, I won’t be long. I’ll keep our link open if you need me.”
I turn, not waiting for them to reply and shift, catching the wind off the sea to carry me north. My curiosity is going to get the best of me, but I can’t help but wonder what Kelsie is playing at with this. Should I go back? Probably. But I’m not going to. Something inside of me drives me forward. A compulsion that I just can’t resist.
A flutter of nerves takes over my belly as in the distance a white beach house sits a half mile from the shoreline. Stilts raise the large home, and solar panels decorate the roof and garage. My wings carry me to a lone tree with white bark and silver leaves. There, I sit.
The entire house is boarded up, but not with wood, with shutters that completely block out the sun. My mind jumps to the meaning.
Vampires.
Yet the sun won’t kill them, it only dehydrates them. But the precaution is intriguing, or perhaps more to keep whatever lives along the coast out. Still, hope surges in me. Hope that I squash down. Because the odds are steep that she would have been here the whole time.
I flap my wings, carrying myself down to a railing as I search the house for one open shutter. Yet there is nothing. The sun is already descending in the sky as I wait for night to fall.
Home, comes Logan’s voice through our link. Have you left yet?
No, is Bette okay? The plan was haphazard at best. Yet the only one we could come up with and it seems as though Kelsie was one step ahead of us the entire time.
She’s fine, hunting her grandmother down. Seems Ryoden threatened her, but that woman is like a crazed killer. His admiration comes through loud and clear.
Gotta go, I reply as the shutters whistle and grind.
My body is one huge ball of nerves as hope dares to suffocate me. A door opens and I hop to the next railing. My hope dies as a man stands there, his head a mess of blond curls. His chest bare and his jeans riding low on his hips. His head cants to the side, and his eyes jerk open as he studies me.
“Have you been spying on me, little raven?” His voice sounds so familiar to me.
“Lir!” A woman’s voice calls from inside, and my heart begins to pound as a dainty hand grips the doorframe.
“Darling, I believe this raven is here to see you.” His smile is cautious and yet intrigued.
“A bird, here to visit? Preposterous.” She steps out onto the deck.
I can no longer hold my form as I shift. My eyes blur at the sight of her. Long black hair cascades down her back. Her beautiful cherub face stuck at twenty with her rosy cheeks, and those black eyes identical to my own.
“What trickery is this?” she scolds.
My voice can’t speak, emotion lodging my words in my throat.
“I don’t think this is a trick, Deliah.” The man, Lir, turns to me. “I smell the ocean on you, you know my son.”
My eyes widen as realization dawns on me. “Mac?”
His smile is identical to Mac’s. “Ahhh, yes, you do know him.”
“Wait.” I point to him and then to Deliah, my eyes widening.
“That’s a no, we are just friends.” Deliah laughs. “It really is you, isn’t it?” She takes a cautious step forward before scenting the air around me. “Is it you?”
Her arms are squeezing my neck in the next second. Centuries of wonder and grief all pour out in that single fucking moment. As my entire world clicks into place. Lir steps away, his footsteps silent and sure. My sobs come out in uncontrollable waves, before I finally get a hold of myself.
“Sorry.” I wipe at my eyes as the impossibility of the situation settles in. My sister stands before me whole and well.
“Don’t be.” She wipes at her own tears. “I searched for you, but I assumed you died.”
“I kind of did.”
“You saved me first.”
“I tried.”
Silence swirls around us until she finally breaks it. “I’m a vampire.” She smiles with a bit of fang.
“I’m kind of a soul eater.” I mean, how else does one describe the Sluagh?
“You got time to catch up?” Her voice is full of hope.
“For you? I have an eternity.” An eternity gifted to me by the hands of a woman I’m not sure is sane. Or beyond intelligent. Either way, I’m thankful for the gift standing before me.
Chapter 26
Bette
A Final Goodbye
My footsteps slow as a gentle drizzle dampens my hair. Little beads of water collect, running down my face in rivulets. The bouquet of calla lilies wafts to me on a gentle breeze. I pause just steps from the small gated section of woods. Surprise flickers through me that it still exists. Inside, a dozen graves sit, their headstones weathered by the storms of the Realm and of course time.
Time that I now hold in my body with the gift of immortality. The feeling holds a surreal appreciation. If my ancestor had stumbled upon the world, I had to believe they, too, may still live. Yet that is not the way of the world. All things rotate in the due cycles. And one day, I, too, will choose to lie here in the dirt with them, when the Sluagh tire of me.
My hand grazes the cool iron with chipping green paint. The gate squeals loudly in the vast forest where all sits in silence. Their eyes have waited a long time for this moment, and I will finally appease them, granting closure to a wound that festered for a long fucking time.
Behind me, the guys’ footsteps slow. I feel their heavy hearts for a woman they didn’t even know and yet, without her, I would not exist. I toe off my shoes, letting the wet grass squish between my toes as the mud beneath cradles each careful step.
Ahead, a grave sits, fresher than any other, though still older than a decade. The grass above is overgrown with a smattering of wildflowers, the dark stone unwelcoming and chipped. In front sits a decaying stuffed horse. The colors once brown and white are now muddy, wet, and full of holes. A symbol of the one and only time I visited this grave.
Emotion clogs my throat as my footsteps slow. My ears pop with the rise in my heart rate, and tears threaten to suffocate me.
Twelve years is a long time to wait to say goodbye, but sometimes we need to wait, letting things happens as they are meant to. Truth be told, without the hearts beating behind me, I may not have shown up. I glance back as they stand tall, feeling each of my emotions as I process them.
I lick my dry lips as I blow out a steady breath, blinking back the tears as they escape my eyes. “I hated you for a long time.” I know, not the best start, but fuck the truth hurts. My jaw aches and my nose runs. Sniffling back the tears, I kneel and graze my fingertips over that damn horse. “I know you aren’t beneath this dirt. You never were, just your body that gave up. Leaving me alone.”
Shit, I’m failing at this. I sniffle before trying again. “You always made time for me. I was never lonely because you were always there. Even on your worst days. You were there. I think a part of me always feared I’d never be able to provide that for another being. But you taught me that. All I had to do was show up and listen.” I wipe away the tears now falling freely down my face. “Then you left, and I thought it was all shit. Every lesson and every moment just gone. Dad was never around, so I didn’t have anyone but Grandma.”
I close my eyes against the pain. This long awaited goodbye ripping through me. Footsteps squish against the mud, and when my eyes flutter open, there they are. My own personal heroes, surrounding m
e.
They didn’t ask, but now is as good a time as any to break the shroud of mystery surrounding my mom. “Heart attack.” I laugh, a wet laugh full of grief. “Her body just gave out. See, she had me at sixteen. She didn’t know it at the time, but her kidneys were already failing when that line turned pink. The doctors told her to abort me. But she chose my life over hers, sealing her fate. By the time I arrived, her kidneys died.” I blink up at the guys, my throat choking up.
“She chose you.” Casseus breaks the silence, his own tears falling as he feels my pain.
“She chose me.” I twist my jaw, fighting against the burning ache in my heart. “She always chose me. Even on the long nights of dialysis. Through an insane number of hospital visits. Everything. She chose me.”
“She loved you,” Mac says casually, but it is anything but casual. “That kind of love is rare.”
I purse my lips. “She loved horses. And small yappy dogs. Not my thing, but it was hers. This little guy was her first gift to me.” The rotting cotton facing me with a black button nose. “She gave me exactly sixteen years. And it wasn’t enough. Not when I have forever stretching in front of me.” I laugh and yet it isn’t full of humor. “We may not have medical now, but she could have been turned into a vampire, or hell, a werewolf.”
“It doesn’t—” Logan tries, but Patrick smack his arm.
“Yeah, I’m sure it isn’t that easy.” But it could be.
“Your dad?” Balor questions.
“Not a clue, I made my peace with that a long time ago because I was never left wanting for love. Not until she died. Then I broke a bit.” The chain of events from that day forth flash through my mind like a movie. “The fucked up part? If she lived, the Sluagh never would have chosen me. Because her death is what triggered me to be a special kind of crazy.”
“Our kind of crazy,” Patrick adds.
“Yeah, your kind of crazy.” I stand, Balor grasping my arm. “I do wish I could tell her one last time how much I fucking love her.”
“I’ll relay the message.”
All at once, I find myself surrounded by the guys as Patrick pulls axes from the ether, creating a violent circle around me. Also blinding me to whomever just crashed this final goodbye.
“Who the ‘ell are you?” Patrick resonates pure violence. It’s cute, he thinks he needs to protect me.
“Just a friend.”
Knowing they all stand in a military stance, I drop down and crawl through their legs, popping up in front of Balor. It isn’t the first time I’ve done this and it sure as hell won’t be the last. When I get a glance at the guy, I’m not sure what to think. He leans against a tree with one foot propped up. His jeans are torn and full of holes, while his shirt contrasts in pristine silk perfection. A lazy cigarette clings to his lips against a scruffy face. His hair lies in haphazard directions, thick and a dark caramel. Yet it is his eyes that glow like the deepest emeralds that resonate with an ancient power.
If I didn’t know gods existed, I would know this man is not a man.
“Okay, friend. Why are you here?” I cross my arms, ready to see how I measure up to the immortal. Even if I really want to know how he will relay that message to my mom.
His smirk is all lazy playboy, which elicits a growl from Logan. “Calm yourself, wolf.” He takes one more drawl before stubbing the butt out with his fingertips and pocketing the filter. “I’m here to give my blessing.”
“What blessing?” I shake my head, wondering where he got his arrogance from.
“Daghda.” The word, or rather name, falls from Balor’s lips.
The man, Daghda, visibly shutters. “Call me Dan.”
Balor cocks his head, raising one brow.
“Yeah, I’m trying new names this week, it might stick, it might not.” He pushes off the tree. “I figure I owe it to you after Aengus tried to screw you over. Though I see everything worked out in the end.”
“I’m sorry, who the hell...” Wait. Aengus. Daghda. “You were imprisoned.” Not that I remember exactly who he is. The Father God, so to speak. The Celtic deity to start the whole shebang. I should probably watch my mouth, but I won’t. He probably already knows how I am as a person. No need to apologize for it now.
“Figured it out I see.” He stops just feet from us. “So, my blessing.”
“What are you blessing exactly?” And what the fuck does that mean?
“I like this one.” Dan jerks his head at me, but addresses the guys. “Your partnership, and Balor here.”
I look up at Balor, who is standing stock still. “The last I saw you, you sat on a hill as the world burned. By my hand.”
“Yes, and look how far you’ve grown. You are the perfect god to rule this new isle.” Dan raises his brows in challenge.
Balor doesn’t hesitate to refute his statement. “You cannot make a demon a saint.”
“Actually, I can, but those terms are archaic. They don’t really apply anymore, now do they?” He snaps his fingers and nausea spills through me as the earth falls, taking me with it. All at once I’m crashing down onto pavement. Mac catches me just before my head cracks against the ground.
My body is slow to stop spinning, but when it does, I gasp at the crowd before me. There must be thousands of people spilling throughout the courtyard of the mansion we’ve been staying at. I turn to see six thrones sitting in a line on a dais. The center one ornate with carved wooden beasts.
“Now, Balor, if you wouldn’t mind?” Dan gestures to the largest chair. “And the lot of you, go.”
I step, but my feet get all caught up in the gothic renaissance dress dan has magically placed on my body. Honestly, I fucking love it with its lace and black pearls. But I’m not sure I’m going to tell the crazy god that.
Especially when he has the guys dressed in odd looking black armor. Only Balor wears a crown of thorns, digging into his scalp without bloodshed. They look sexy as sin. We all settle into a chair that is more comfortable than I anticipated.
“Now. I, Daghda, give my blessing to see Balor as king of this isle. Serve and protect your citizens.” Dan, err Daghda, grants the crown with a Cheshire smile and a wink, really playing this up before he swings a sword, wherever that came from, and literally knights Balor so fucking casually it’s almost comical. He swings the sword back where it disappeared in a glamoured scabbard.
“Last,” he begins, “I now grant you husbands and wife.” With a laugh, he snaps and is gone, leaving just as a wash of energy flowing over me.
I think... I think we just got married!
Epilogue
Bette
All Hallows Eve
A Quarter to Midnight
“You mean to tell me...” I blink slowly because I’m about to lash out at the five morons standing in front of me, no matter how much I love them. “That there is a fucking Halloween ritual with the fucking Sluagh.”
Casseus smiles broadly, amused with himself for some reason. Then he goes and does it. His dimples pop out.
“Oh no you don’t.” I point my finger at him, with my perfectly painted nails. In black no less. I almost repress the need to poke those dimples until I find myself squishing a finger in their perfect little half-moons.
He nips at my finger, and I draw back just in time. No need to encourage the bastard.
“Oh, come on.” Casseus invades my space, his body becoming flush with mine. He head drops down and I can feel his lips graze my skin, eliciting a cascade of goosebumps. “I wanted to make it a secret.” He bites my neck before backing away with that fucking smirk.
He knows good and well what he just did to me. But now isn’t the time for a quick fuck. He’s trying to ease the sting of being evasive.
“You kept one very important secret from me, Casseus.” I put my stern face back on, which isn’t very stern because it’s painted in a traditional calavera, with intricate little designs that had me staring at my face in the mirror for hours. Then Dan showed up with the most beautiful dress. A
lmost as beautiful as my wedding non-wedding dress. Black lace twists up my arms to a corset that makes me look damn good. And the skirt has ruffles. Black fucking ruffles that are quite literally everything.
I’ve been debating bringing back medieval fashion just due to these two dresses. If it weren’t for all the layers... and my impatience, I’d push for it. Though it seems the world is already working on that fashion anyway, I’ll embrace it.
Dammit, I’m mentally rambling. I got distracted by this stupid dress. That I love.
“In his defense, we all knew,” Mac supplies lazily. I squint my eyes at him, but his golden curls pop out of a black top hat, and he’s wearing a suit with a red bow... and I’m lost.
They all look so incredible.
I’m losing myself again. Stupid handsome men. I cross my arms, inadvertently pushing my breasts farther up. I watch in amusement as all eyes draw down to my breasts. A warmth pools deep in my belly. Yep, keep your eyes there, boys. Then you won’t notice when I take over the world. I smirk to myself.
“Oh, wife,” Balor purrs. He’s been doing that a lot lately. I think he’s a happy king. “You forget we are inside that head of yours.”
I roll my head back, staring at the dark, clear sky. The moon hangs high in the sky, emitting an eerie blue glow. “Okay, so let’s get this straight. The Sluagh get one night. One night where they are... human again.”
To this, Patrick laughs. His outfit... well, it left me questioning his sanity. He’s dressed like a dead mythical leprechaun. Not a real leprechaun. No, he’s wearing a green top hat and his calavera is in green paint. With a fucking clover on his forehead. All of that I could look past, except those green and white striped leggings and those pointy elf shoes. Still, he looks good.
Immortals take Halloween to a whole other level.
“Ya know I look good.” He twists his handlebar moustache, like the one Cas shaved off. “The Sluagh are not just human, they are all kinds of creatures. On Halloween they become alive.” His voice is that of a spooky narrator, making me October television.
“Five minutes,” Logan announces, with a smirk while tapping his nonexistent watch.