“With me, Elena, you can be safe. Truly safe. Come with me, to the forest. Rule by my side. Not a kingdom, but a queendom. Be my queen.”
Elena stared at her. It sounded… god, it sounded good, that was it. Simple. Easy. The forest — just her and Una, making a life together. What could go wrong with that? Her mind felt strange — light, full of stars. “Yes. I will. How?”
“Anything worth having is worth fighting for, Elena. Will you fight for me?”
She looked down at the window ledge — and gasped. There, lying where the iron cross had been lying, was a sleek black blade, with a hilt of what looked like molten silver. Una gestured to it with one slender hand, and Elena reached out to lift it cautiously. The handle was warm to the touch, as though it had been basking in sunlight, and she could see that the curved blade was wickedly sharp, narrowing to such an unbelievably narrow edge that it was as though it was slicing the very air itself in two. She was tempted to touch its edge but feared making a deep cut in her hand. Una was smiling at her.
“This is Faerie steel.”
“It’s beautiful,” Elena whispered. The black metal seemed to have depth to it, somehow… and the closer she looked, the more it seemed she could make out bright points in the darkness, for all the world like looking into a starry sky.
“It’s yours,” Una said softly. “It will free you. The blade allows you to take the strength of any man you wound with it. And it will sever what you feel for him in the same stroke.”
She took a sharp breath, realizing what Una was saying. “You want me to — you want me to cut Brendan with this. Stab him. Kill him.”
“Yes, my love. It’s the only way to be free of him. Fight your way free of this place. Meet me on the docks when it’s done. I’ll feel you there.”
And with that high, strange laugh that Elena loved so much, Una was gone as quickly as she’d arrived. Elena’s head was spinning strangely, and she’d almost think she’d dreamed the encounter… if it wasn’t for the wicked blade that sat in her hand, heavy as death.
Chapter 54
Elena stood at the window for a long time, staring out into the darkness. Then, before she could think about it too much, she hurried over to the bed and stashed the knife deep underneath the mattress, where nobody would find it unless they were specifically looking for it. Then she sat down heavily, staring into the distance, completely shocked by what had just happened.
Well, hadn’t she been desperately wanting someone to come along and give her a way out of here? She had. She’d been hoping it would be Una, too. And hadn’t she been wishing for a way to get rid of what she still felt for Brendan? It seemed that this knife was the answer to that, too. Some kind of Fae magic, perhaps, that cut feelings down? The problem was, the feelings were what were going to stand in the way of her stabbing Brendan with a blade of faerie steel. She bit her lip, shocked to realize that she was giving the idea serious consideration. She wanted to be free, didn’t she? It had become clear that she couldn’t trust anyone in this castle, especially the men in it, hadn’t she? And she had the training, knew how to sneak up on someone and disable them quickly and quietly. Una had told her she needed to fight her way out. She could do that.
But first, she needed to drive this knife into Brendan’s heart. Something told her that that was the only way to free herself of her feelings for him. She felt herself becoming resigned to the idea, her determination solidifying the more she thought about it. Of course — it was the only thing that made sense. Kill Brendan, free her heart of the troublesome sympathy she still felt for him and men like him… then drive the knife into the hearts of any other men who saw fit to stand between her and her goal. Her goal… the docks, the forest, to live in peace with Una for the rest of their days. God, it sounded beautiful. Tears stood in her eyes, and she dashed them away, wanting to stay strong. She had to stay strong… had to be her best for Una, who had finally come to save her. She’d shown her her true self. And, she realized with a fond smile that made her dizzy mind spin a little, she’d all but told her her deepest secret.
It was Una, after all, who was responsible for the illnesses and the deaths of the men. It was her, who was feeding on them, turning them into shallow husks of themselves… draining their life forces. Did she use a knife like this one, Elena wondered, pulling the knife out from underneath the pillow and gazing down at it with wonder? A knife that drained the life from men… fascinating. She’d trusted her so much, to tell her what she was. And it made sense that she’d waited this long. Of course she’d had to wait this long — it had taken Elena this long to reach the point she needed to reach. To realize, once and for all, that men weren’t worth the pain and suffering they caused.
If Una had told her any earlier what she was, what she did with herself in the evenings, Elena might have done something stupid… like told Brendan about her. She may even have tried to stop her from doing her good work. And wouldn’t that have been awful! There were several men dead, and more very sick. That meant there were women being freed from their control — women who could live alone, now. Women who were free.
Elena smiled down at the knife, still feeling oddly dizzy. What was that? It was like she couldn’t quite get control of her thoughts — like she was drunk, somehow, or high on something she couldn’t identify… not that a straight-laced cop like her had ever tried any substances stronger than whiskey. The euphoria of realizing the truth, she thought with a giggle, turning the knife over and over in her hands to admire the way it shone and danced in the torchlight. Faerie steel… how beautiful. Maybe Una would tell her how it was made, someday. If she pleased her. If she fought her way out with enough ferocity, took down enough men on her way out… she grinned a little. That would please Una, if she killed a few extra men for her, surely? She wanted to please Una. She owed her so much…
The night passed easily. Though she’d been sleeping all day, this time, she actually felt like her sleep was restful… and when she woke in the morning, her body felt full of energy, like a battery that had been charged. She grinned as she washed her face, full of joy at the memory of her visit with Una, with the brightness of their future together. She was thinking about the future with Una — dreaming about starting a queendom with her where they’d invite any and all women who’d been wronged and harmed by men to stay with them — when there came a soft knock at the door. She frowned a little, confused and a little irritated to be disturbed, and stuffed the knife quickly under the pillow again. She’d already received her breakfast — some surly servant had brought it and left it while she was asleep, barely stirring her from her slumber. It was still sitting on the table, ready to be eaten… but probably cold by now. She wasn’t hungry. But who had come to visit her? And why hadn’t they just barged in? It wasn’t as if she had any say over whether the door opened or not. She was a prisoner, wasn’t she?
The door swung open. To her surprise — and grim delight — Brendan stood framed in the door. But something was wrong. He looked even worse than he had a few days earlier, when she’d seen him for their deeply unproductive conversation. Had he slept at all? His face was ragged and gaunt, and there were huge dark circles under his eyes. She frowned a little, unnerved by his appearance despite herself. How did he look this bad? This was the look of a man who’d been up for a week straight on meth, not a guy who’d thrown a few too many all-nighters in the past week.
And there was a look of acute desperation on his face as he half-stepped, half-staggered into the room. He sat hard on the chair by her bed, taking a deep, steadying breath as he did, and when she looked at him she could see his hands shaking furiously. What was wrong with him? What had happened? Had he been in some kind of fight?
“Elena,” he said hoarsely. “It’s — it’s gotten so much worse.”
“What do you mean?”
“We’re finding bodies every day now, Elena. More men than you could imagine… everyone’s falling sick, everyone in the castle. All the guards. All the men of th
e village. They used to be safe here, but they’re not any more… they’re all reporting these dreams, all of them, all of them wasting away. Elena, please. You have to help me — have to help us —”
She reached out to him, her hand almost moving of its own accord, blinking in confusion as she realized that there was an urge to comfort him left alive. That was wrong, wasn’t it? He was her enemy… her feelings for him were the enemy… she had the knife. Needed to use the knife, to kill him. But her stubborn hand just reached out of its own accord, gripped him by the shoulder. He stared up at her, looking strangely grateful for the contact… and she saw a strange, haunted look in his eyes.
“You look so much like her,” he whispered hoarsely. “I didn’t understand it until now… the pull of her… she’s so powerful. More powerful than we imagined. But she’s not you, is she, Elena? The lady in green… the fair woman…” His whole body shuddered. “I dreamed of her last night, Elena. I saw her, in all her glory. I was wrong to mistake you for her. You could never be so cruel.”
Her hand was burning hot where he was gripping it. His face was downturned — he was breathing hard, clearly gripped by the memory of what he’d seen in his dreams. She realized, with a creeping sense of horror, what had happened… by pulling the iron from the window, by inviting Una to speak with her, all but inviting her into the room, she’d allowed her into the castle. She’d given her free rein of the dreams of the men in the castle… and she’d taken that opportunity and ran with it.
What was she feeling? There was a strange sense of being in two minds… part of her was delighted that her friend had fed so well on these men, that she would be all the more strong. That part was glad the men were sick, glad the men were wasting away. It served them right, didn’t it? Served them right… but there was something fighting through that dizzy, awful thought, fighting hard and winning. Something that had a lot more in common with the tough Baltimore detective who’d come through the Burgh. Something that was looking into the eyes of a man who was in the early stages of being murdered by a supernatural creature… something that knew that that was wrong.
Which part was right, she wondered dizzily? Which part of her was real?
“Brendan—” she started, not knowing how the sentence was going to end. Brendan was staring at her, clearly confused by the emotions warring across her face. “Brendan, I… there’s… there’s something wrong with me.”
Chapter 55
Brendan stared at her, confusion vivid on his face. It was narrow, she realized, the dizziness giving way to a cold, sick feeling low in her stomach. Narrower than it had been the day before. He’d lost weight, somehow — no, not somehow. She knew how. The life had been drained out of him by Una, overnight, in the dreams he’d mentioned. She was feeding on him. Draining his life. That was good, though, wasn’t it? That was the only way they’d be free —
“No!” she said out loud, clapping her hands over her mouth in horror. What kind of a thought was that? It was a good thing, that someone was dying — anyone at all? She’d never thought that someone deserved death. Least of all someone like Brendan — she stared into his eyes, desperate to regain control of her own mind. This was Brendan — the man who’d found her in the midst of a panic attack her first day, the man who’d taught her to ride a horse, who’d kissed her so softly and so sweetly by Maggie’s cottage that she’d felt her heart pounding in her chest like she’d never been kissed before…
“Elena?” He was staring at her. Her whole body was shaking, and her vision was blurring. She felt horrifically ill, worse than she had when she’d fallen sick with the stomach bug, worse than even the sight of her own broken body in that dream of the Sidhe… she could feel something shaking itself loose from her, even as her body twitched and jerked. Brendan looked frightened as he stared at her — she felt his hands on either side of her face, impossibly warm. “Elena, you’re cold as ice. What’s wrong?”
“I — I — Brendan,” she whispered, reaching up to clutch at his hands. God, they were so warm. Or were they? Were his hands warm… or were hers freezing cold? Ice cold? The same temperature as the hands of a baobhan sith. “I’m so sorry —”
He stared at her, completely nonplussed — and then he stroked her cheek, and the feeling of that felt like it shattered something, deep inside her. A glass wall that had been wrapped around her heart, a barrier that had been erected inside her mind, letting something poisonous grow there, out of sight… His hands were so warm… she could feel tears flowing down her cheeks, hot and wet, and she took a deep, shuddering breath as she rejected what had taken root inside her.
“Brendan,” she gasped, clutching at his name like a lifeline. “Brendan, I met the baobhan sith. I met her weeks ago. She’s the one who pulled me out of the Loch, she was my first friend, she… her name is Una. I’ve known her for weeks. I didn’t tell you, I didn’t… why didn’t I tell you? Why couldn’t I—”
“Slow down,” Brendan said sharply, and suddenly she felt him take both of her hands in his, squeezing them tightly. “I’ve seen this before, Elena.”
It felt like she couldn’t catch her breath, like her whole mind was falling apart, great big pieces dropping away to her left and right, assumptions she’d built more assumptions on top of, again and again… she stared into Brendan’s eyes, because for some reason, he seemed like the only steady point in a world that was rapidly falling apart. “You have? What’s happening to me? Why do I feel like I’m losing my mind?”
“Because you are,” he said simply, and her heart pounded sickly. “In a way. This is what Unseelie Fae are capable of, Elena.”
She blinked hard, tears streaming down her face. “How do I fix it?”
He laughed, low and soothing. Despite the turmoil in her mind, she was a little surprised at how composed he’d suddenly become — was he holding it together for her? She was grateful, deeply grateful… she’d seen how upset he was when he came in, how gripped by fear and despair… but here he was, smiling at her like it was the easiest thing in the world to be there while she fell apart. What was going on? She needed about an hour to just sit and pick through the chaos in her own mind… but she was terrified that if Brendan left her alone for even a second, those terrifying, ugly, dark thoughts were going to come rushing back in again to claim her mind, claim her soul, claim her spirit. Una… she couldn’t even think about Una right now. That way, madness lay. Instead, she looked at Brendan, clutched at his hands, leaned her body beseechingly toward him — and as if sensing what she needed, he stood up, then sat back down next to her on the bed. She leaned against his shoulder, her whole body shuddering, and he put an arm around her shaking shoulders and held her tight.
“You’re fixing it,” he told her, his voice rumbling low and soothing. “This is it — this is how you fix it. You figure it out, you feel it, your own mind reclaims its rightful place over the impostor.”
She was dizzy. “Impostor?”
“Aye, the Fae can set up versions of your own mind that speak as they intend. Have you noticed that you’ve been thinking thoughts that don’t sound like you?”
She uttered a hysterical little bark of laughter, thinking of the detailed plans she’d been making to stab Brendan and basically every man in the castle who looked at her funny with a magical knife. “Yeah. Yeah, just a couple.”
“That’s it. That’s the Fae,” Brendan said simply. “I should have figured it out, Elena. I’m sorry. When you were behaving so strangely, evading my questions about going out onto the docks… you were meeting with her, weren’t you?”
She felt tears fill her eyes. “Yes,” she admitted in a whisper. “I just… I wanted to tell you. Really, I did. But I was so afraid you would hurt her if you knew she existed… I was worried about what she’d been through, all the harm that men had done her in the past…”
“She’s a baobhan sith,” Brendan said grimly. “They used to rule these lands before men drove them out with cold iron. They’re incredibly manipulative, u
nbelievably powerful creatures.”
“I should have told you. Why didn’t I —”
“Elena, you’re only human. She bewitched you. She probably started working on you the moment you met, back when the Sidhe brought you through from your world and sent you into ours.”
She remembered the feeling of that powerful arm, grabbing her and pulling her out of the water. “She saved my life,” she said softly.
“Aye, she did. And how did she leverage that to manipulate you?”
“She didn’t!” Elena felt a wave of indignation rise up in her at this accusation against her friend — Una had never been anything but kind and polite! Never manipulated Elena into doing anything! But she gasped when she realized, seconds later, that that thought hadn’t come from her own mind. That had come from somewhere else… from the dark space in her thoughts that she was only just beginning to explore. Brendan was looking at her closely. “She — she did,” Elena said faintly, correcting herself. “She… wow. She did a really good job. God, I feel stupid.”
“Don’t feel stupid,” Brendan said simply. “There are dozens of men sick and dying as a result of her wiles, you still look a lot better than any of us.”
“Only because she doesn’t hate women,” Elena said. “She pities women, human women… says it’s sad that we have to tolerate men. Had me believing it, a little,” she admitted, feeling ashamed of the force of the anger she’d felt. Alien anger. She’d never truly believed that men were all irredeemable assholes… had she? God, it was so hard to extricate her own thoughts from the ones that Una had planted in her mind. Brendan squeezed her again, and she took a little comfort in the warmth of his body, steadying herself against him. “I can’t believe I let her…”
Swept By The Highlander: A Scottish Time Travel Romance-Highlander Forever Book 3 Page 33