by Cecy Robson
I move toward the couch, my thoughts still on Bill when Ryker’s scythe springs into his hand. He slams it down with enough force to jolt me.
I stumble back, stunned. Ryker cuts a line into the floor, firing it with bright blue light. “Ardú!” he roars.
Dugan and Phillip leap from the expanding light and rush Stevie. Stevie leaps to his feet, spilling the tray of food on his lap. He lunges toward me. “Olivia!’
Dugan and Philip overpower him. I grab my whip and charge. Ryker wrenches me back by the waist and rips the whip from my grasp. I kick out, screaming for Stevie as the Scottish warriors drag him toward the blazing blue light. “No. No!”
Stevie jerks and writhes, smoke spewing from his mouth between terrified screams. “Olivia, help me. Help me!”
Stevie is sobbing, hysterical. I’m not that much better. Dugan and Philip bow to Ryker and disappear with Stevie.
I kick back hard, slamming my heel into Ryker’s shins and breaking his hold.
My knees slam against the floor as I fall against the fading blue light. I swear, over and over, again, slapping at the line as the last spark of magic dissipates and seals my only way to Stevie.
I stumble to my feet and reel on Ryker. “What did you do to him?”
Ryker straightens. “It’s not what you think.”
“What did you do?”
I throw myself at Ryker, determined to shove him from my sight. All I manage is to do is knock myself backward. “I trusted you,” I yell. “Tell me where he is!”
Ryker meets me square in the face, his features pained, although I hadn’t hurt him. “He’s safe, Olivia, hidden between realms where he’ll sleep. In a week’s time, he’ll awake on Jane’s doorstep.”
My chest rises and falls, the sting of betrayal spreading across my eyes. “Why? What’s the point?”
“We can’t wait for you to fully heal, Olivia. We don’t have the time. As you saw, Bill can’t be trusted.” He pauses. “At dawn we will face Cathasach in his domain. There, you will challenge him to the death . . .”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
I don’t move for a long time, choosing instead to fume on the couch. Ryker set Bill up, formulating a plan he never intended to execute, all the while gathering information for our benefit. Or so he claims.
Ryker’s manipulation and cunning infuriates me. It wasn’t just directed at Bill.
My attention travels to the chunks of broken crab cakes littering the floor. The sight makes me sad, knowing who dropped them and where he now waits alone.
“When did you come up with this genius plan?” I mutter.
Ryker doesn’t miss the unpleasantness in my voice. He leans back in the loveseat across from me. He changed into a black silk shirt and dark slacks. I suppose he was trying to appear less Ankou-ish and therefore less like an asshole. He didn’t succeed.
Stevie wasn’t gently escorted off the premises. He was snatched, without a warning, without an explanation, and without a choice.
Fury is my friend now and we have dinner plans. I am livid. And I’m scared. More unsettling, I’m ill-prepared for what awaits.
“I formed a plan following a close examination of the map, and my discussion with Bill.”
“You made a decision without consulting me?” I ask. “Wow, that’s so unlike you.”
“Olivia, you’re angry.”
“No shit.” I stand. “Why didn’t you just tell me and Stevie your super awesome plan? He’s just a kid, Ryker. I know you’re like, a million, but he’s just a kid.”
Ryker squares his jaw. “The less Stevie knows. The more he’s protected. I suspect Bill had a hand in every misfortune we’ve encountered. But I can’t be certain he’s acted alone. Had I discussed the matter with you, we would have wasted time, time neither we nor Stevie have.”
“You scared him,” I repeat. “Don’t you hear what I’m saying? He’s a child and you frightened him.”
Ryker bows his head, clasping his hands together. “My intention was to move him someplace safe, not to frighten him. There, between realms, he’s at peace.” He looks up. “I swear he’s protected and no longer scared.”
“You swear?” I bite out.
“Yes.”
“I think you should know; your promises don’t mean much right now.”
His wounded expression is the last thing I catch as I stomp into the kitchen. Ryker ordered pizza for Stevie while I was in that stupid coma. I slap a few slices onto a cookie sheet and throw it in the oven.
I bought Ryker that cookie sheet, insisting he needed real things to call his own. I also bought him nice hand soap, the kind with olive oil and scented with mint. He needed things around here to make him someone, not just the Ankou.
My fingers tap along the controls. I wonder briefly if this is the last meal I’ll have. Those thoughts don’t last. Mostly, I wonder if I was foolish to forget that no matter all the pretty soaps and items I bought him, Ryker’s been the Ankou for far longer.
I press my palms against the cool quartz counter and release a long breath. Ryker wraps a pair of very muscular and very hesitant arms around me. I turn and circle his waist with my slender arms, the same arms he trained to fight Cathasach. Death is all Ryker has known in the last century, and I’ve run out of time to teach him more.
“I’m sorry,” Ryker whispers. “I wasn’t fair to you or the boy.”
My face falls against his chest. Maybe he did learn something after all. “If we pull Plan Crazy off and live, you can’t continue to make all the decisions. You’re no longer flying solo. We’re partners and I need to have a say.”
Ryker smooths my hair. “You’re correct in reminding me. For all that your presence has impacted my world, I still behave as if I walk it alone.”
“You’re not alone. I’m here.” Well, at least for the moment.”
Ryker tightens his hold. He knows what went unsaid.
“Where is Stevie exactly?” I ask, my tone softening. “Please tell me there’s Netflix.”
“It’s a space in time where those who mourn remember the good while living. It’s not a permanent place, especially for the living. But it will hide him well until he appears at Jane’s home.”
I wish we could hide there with him. Except heroes don’t hide and it’s time to come out swinging.
My attention travels to the wall of windows where only darkness awaits. “Tell me the plan.”
“In an hour’s time, we will leave and hunt the hounds. Dugan, Phillip, and I can trap them between realms but only for a time before they break free. When we’ve secured enough, we will release them from different points and behead them before they can fully escape.”
“Holding them between realms will weaken you.” I sigh when he doesn’t respond. “So will summoning Doogie and Phil to fight.”
“Trapping hounds isn’t ideal,” Ryker admits. “It’s a waste of energy. But it’s the only way to bait the Cù-Sìth and challenge Cathasach. Given what’s happening, I see no other way.”
“How exactly will I challenge Cathasach?”
Ryker releases me slowly and walks toward the windows, keeping his back to me. I don’t have to examine his features to know how he feels. I can sense his anger and disgust. “Cathasach wants you,” he says. “At my word, remove your talisman and call him to you as you would me.”
I have dirty thoughts when it comes to Ryker. There, I said it. When I think of Cathasach, all I think is dirty. “Ah, come again?”
Ryker’s spine stiffens. “You need to entice him, Olivia. You have to want him, if for nothing else to destroy him.”
“I don’t know if I can,” I admit. Cathasach wants to torture me in ways I can’t bear to think about. If he traps me, he’ll fulfill his desires before killing me. It could take hours, even months if we fail.
Ryker returns to my side. “Olivia, calling him will lure him from the pack. It’s the only way to take him alone.”
Although I’m not exactly thrilled to pieces, he’s righ
t. “You’ll be there with me?” I ask.
My voice is oddly clear despite how scared I feel. Ryker clasps my shoulders gently. “I promise you won’t be alone.” The pledge in his tone forces me to meet his face. “We will strike as one, quickly and without mercy.”
“You’ll be weak,” I remind.
“It doesn’t matter. By dawn’s pure light, he won’t be as potent. The moment he’s dead, summon Jane.”
I know where he’s headed. “So, she and the Ancients can kill the remaining hounds.”
“Exactly,” he replies.
I struggle with my next question. “What if we can’t kill him?”
“I’ll get you to safety.”
I lift my chin and square my jaw. “Not if you’re already dead.”
* * *
The air snaps and the darkness enveloping me lifts, unveiling the sky. The moon shines dully against a canvas of black and gray. Night carries a scent that invades deep into blankets of moss littering the forests and every crevice along long, lonely city streets. This place is no different. Night reigns and I smell it everywhere.
Frigid air strokes like a cold, invasive touch against my skin as Ryker lowers me to the frozen earth. My feet feel out of place in the cemetery. So, does the rest me. I’ve never given much thought to where the dead lie buried. I’ve never had to. Fae don’t have the luxury to mourn. Now that I’m here, it’s clear I don’t belong.
The warmth and comfort lingering from being so close to Ryker is stolen with each breath I take. I move for the sake of moving but can’t keep my footing on the uneven ground. He clasps my shoulder, steadying me.
Worry deepens his frown. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” I reply. I take a step back and almost trip over a grave marker.
I edge away and hug my body tight. The thin sea foam jacket I’m wearing isn’t equipped for October in Jersey. The biting cold practically laughs at it. It’s just the one thing I own that provides a layer of protection and allows me to move well in a fight.
The familiar sense of fear pokes at my chest, tormenting my lungs. I’m scared. I don’t like the plan. And then there’s that pesky desire to live and not die a horrible demented death.
Ryker assured me that Dugan and Phil will see to my escape should he “perish.” “Perish.” There’s a word. Gutted like a pig and gnawed to pieces as I watch, screaming, seems more apropos. It’s what had happened to Dahlia . . . and my family . . . and those poor Fae from the club. Yet here I stand, knock, knock, knockin’ on Heaven’s door.
I search my surroundings, gathering my nerve and squelching the itch to bolt. Shadows claim and rule Harsimus Cemetery like an invincible king. I expected to find long sweeping hills blanketed by meticulously kept acreage. Instead, towering monuments and tombstones weathered by storms and time stretch out like an ancient village.
A crumbling mausoleum overlooks the cemetery at the top of a hill. Cracked cement steps lead to a partially demolished door and old trees with crooked branches creak and sway, reaching for, yet not quite touching, the archaic roof.
The hollow cries of hooting owls bounce along the marble gravestones, adding to the spook factor since that’s the kind of shit owls pull in graveyards.
I’m vaguely aware of Ryker watching me when he lifts his arm and brings forth his scythe. His trademark weapon appears within his grip, the half-moon casting a shallow glow against the blade as he punctures the earth and releases his warriors. “Ardú,” he commands.
His gaze briefly cuts my way as his men rise and bow. He knows I’m scared out of my mind. Instead of psyching me up and readying me to fight until my last crumbling body part, he and his buds make quick work of luring the first hound.
“Death calls,” Ryker rumbles, his deep voice forceful.
Death answers Death within moments. Rustling stirs near an unkempt plot of shrubbery and trees, slow, at first, like the sound of a dry crumpling leaf, then louder and more distressed.
A hound pokes her lucid head through the dense vegetation. The thick thorn brambles sweep through her misty body as she prowls forward and materializes into her corporeal form.
At first, I’m not certain she sees us, her eyes so dull, I almost mistake her for blind. When she growls in challenge and skulks directly toward Ryker, there’s no question she knows we’re here. She didn’t like being summoned and especially hates us disturbing her turf.
Her lips peel back and a hideous howl rumbles through her freakishly large chest. I step back and tighten my grasp over my whip. She’s the largest female we’ve come across, matching Cathasach in bulk and length.
Ryker widens the distance between us, luring the hound away from me. Dugan and Phillip shadow her, their steps silent. She draws closer to Ryker. She’s almost to him, fixated on him even as he dissolves into the darkness.
Ryker bends his knees, his hands out, ready to strike. The hound bristles, her growls hideous and her hackles rising. She’s ready, too.
Saliva streams from her jowls. That split second when predators pause before they attack arrives. Except she’s no longer looking at Ryker. Her head whips, and her sights lock on me.
My talisman is firmly in place. She shouldn’t be able to sense me. Yet she does. In four quick strides, she’s on me.
I don’t think. I react. My first strike is strong. Glorious pink power races through the length of my whip, severing her head and freeing a flock of souls. Her body buckles and implodes, falling into crispy chunks.
The hound was big for a reason, stuffed to the gills with dead Fae. Souls spill from her remains, shrieking and sobbing as they tear free and into the cold night air. Their numbers and cries are too much to bear and too loud to ignore. A pack of Cù-Sìth rushes us from all sides, and there’s nothing we can do to stop them.
The soul of a banshee shoves her face into mine, swatting at my shoulders and ignoring the way her translucent hands pass through me. Her mouth opens and closes several times. She tries to speak, but only whimpers and indiscernible words flow.
I attempt to hold her. All I feel is a faint sense of what once was. “You have to flee,” I urge. “Death is coming for you.”
My words only incite her horror. She screams louder, choking on her sobs, pleading though vacant eyes for me to save her.
I back away, trying to create some space to fight. The banshee follows, desperate for me to listen to her. Ryker and his warriors are outnumbered, and more hounds are bounding toward us. They leap over markers and from rooftops, crazed from all the souls soaring through the graveyard.
A Cù-Sìth charges the banshee. I see him coming through her transparent image, but I’m not fast enough. He barrels over me, pinning me as he devours her. She shrieks in pain, flailing and reaching for me.
“Get off her!” I scream. “Let her go, you bastard!”
Ryker wrenches the beast off me and disappears into the earth in a wash of azure light.
I scramble to my feet. “Ryker?”
He and the warriors are gone. I cling to the talisman around my neck, my knees knocking as the remaining Cù-Sìth circle and sniff the air, searching. The souls are gone, once more consumed. Unlike the female who attacked, they don’t see me, yet.
The circle they form around me tightens and their impatient growls grow more pronounced. They know there’s more to eat and draw closer with each pass.
A green hound’s tail brushes against my waist. The action freezes him in place. He knows Life remains. He bites the empty air in front of him, then to the left, narrowly missing my arm.
Fear sparks my magic. A slow burn catches where his heavy tail strikes my belly. He wags his tail faster, his excitement building.
My power is calling him to me and betraying my position. I try to summon it back. As much as I want these bitches to burn, I can’t release more souls. The hounds are everywhere. Despite having their fill, they want more.
They want me.
I cringe when the hounds lap the air close to my face an
d take a breath. As air fills my lungs, I withdraw my power.
The hound’s ears twitch. He glances around, appearing confused.
A thickly matted female prowls toward me, swallowing the remains of an elderly gnome. Another hound, the color of dry seaweed follows, scanning the area just to my left.
“Ryker?” I call, barely above a whisper.
Azure light flashes beneath the approaching hounds and the one closest to me. Arms reach through, wrenching the immense beasts downward. Ryker and the warriors struggle to trap the hounds. Thanks to my ineptness, we have more bait than we bargained for and a whole lot of noise.
A second female appears, prowling in my direction, her steps quickening the closer she nears.
My talisman is failing me. The female stops suddenly, appearing to pinpoint my location. She jets forward, her thick paws barely grazing the ground.
Mere feet remain between us. I startle when Dugan and Phil drag her into the earth by her hind quarters. Another Cù-Sìth notices me and attacks.
Ryker’s leather gloved hands push through the hard ground in a flash of dark blue light. He pulls at the hound’s fur until he latches on to the scruff of her neck and yanks her down.
Ryker and his warriors are fighting hard and smart, surprising the hounds by appearing in different points. I can’t stand here. I need to be ready. Surely all the turmoil has alerted Cathasach.
My gaze homes in on my whip lying near an abandoned shovel. I lunge for it and snag the handle. Philip’s face punctures through the ground, his features twisted with anger. Evidently, I haven’t wowed him with my awesomeness.
I start to apologize when his eyes fly open, his full attention zipping behind me.
Something hard strikes my skull as I whip around, the blow sending me soaring. I land on my side several yards away. I catch flickers of Phil leaping upward and explosions of azure light.
Ryker is yelling for me. I barely hear him over the wash of hot fluid flooding my ear.
What seems like an army of Cù-Sìth howl and charge, catapulting through the dilapidated grounds as if beckoned. I push up on my hands, trying to get to my feet. Again, something strikes me, this time in the face.