“I can’t change my past mistakes, but I can try to make amends by saving Allie.” Ian reached into his pocket and fingered the ripped piece of Tegan’s shirt that she’d used to blindfold him. “And I refuse to mess up my future with Tegan. If there’s a chance breaking my vow will hurt her in some way, I’ll hate myself.”
Silence stretched. Finally, Trevor sighed. “What’s the plan on getting Allie out?”
“Hopefully, Tegan will have uncovered an easy way. If not…” Ian hated what he was about to suggest but could see no other way to accomplish the feat. “If not, tomorrow, when Calan returns, I’m going to ask him to go.” And pray it worked. Ian wouldn’t risk Harley. If it came down to that, he’d find another way.
“In the meantime, let’s locate Craig’s fairy ring. So we’re ready.” Trevor flung the door open.
Ian considered Trevor’s words. They made sense. Why waste precious time? They could locate the ring, then come back and tell the others.
“All right, let’s do it.” Ian stepped into the hallway.
“Aren’t you going to leave a note for Tegan? Let her know where you are.”
Actually, Ian wanted to wait until she returned, if only to hold her again, but they didn’t have time. “No. We’re just doing a little exploratory work. We’ll be back soon. Three hours tops. Once the sun sets, it’ll be too dark for you.”
“But not for you, right? You’re the Huntsman, defender of the damn weak mortals like me.”
The resentment in Trevor’s voice was thick. He’d complained that he didn’t understand why he couldn’t ride too. He knew the risks if he failed Arawn’s mental probe but didn’t care. Honestly, Ian wasn’t sure why Trevor couldn’t ride in the Hunt either. For close to a decade, they’d worked behind the scenes, burning fairy rings and collecting evidence on the redcaps and sluaghs. If Trevor wanted to join the Hunt, he should be allowed. Besides, they needed the help.
Tegan might have dozens of siblings, but only seventeen had walked out of the fairy prison. And out of those, he would trust only a handful with a blade. The rest were too close to losing their minds and becoming a liability to them all, the world included.
Yeah, the Triad was right. The Huntsmen needed to heal themselves. They were an untamed force none could control, not even Arawn. He’d made his army too powerful, or so Ian had been told by the other riders. Only duty, unity, and honor kept them loyal.
“If you want to ride, give it some time. Earn Calan’s respect, and if he won’t let you join, I’ll talk to Arawn.” As long as the Lord of the Underworld wasn’t gunning for his head. Ian had no intention of having a family reunion. As far as he was concerned, his mixed heritage was on a need-to-know basis, and Arawn wasn’t on the list.
“Thanks, man.” Trevor pulled his keys from his pocket and motioned him forward. “After you. Time’s running out.”
In more ways than one. Ian felt it. His clock was ticking. Or, more accurately, Tegan’s was. The knowledge worried him, but he couldn’t do anything about it. He might be her key, but she had to figure out how to use him.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Tegan rushed into Ian’s room and stopped dead in her tracks. “What are you doing here?”
Rhys raised a brow. “I was looking for you. I figured you’d be with your lover.”
She glanced from him to the bed. Open photo albums covered it. “And when you realized I wasn’t, you decided to go through his things?”
He shrugged. “I was curious about your mate.”
Her mouth went dry. “You know?”
“I do now.” He grinned.
She shoved him. “Bastard!”
“Now, no name calling. It’s not nice.” Rhys chuckled and handed her one of the albums. “Nice gloves, by the way. Did you get them from Rowan?”
She took the vinyl-padded book but didn’t glance at it. “I had to go to Hell and didn’t want Arawn to see my mark.”
He frowned. “Why not?”
“Because I hadn’t decided what to tell him about Ian’s parents.”
“Don’t tell him anything. If Minerva wants to keeps secrets from him, so be it. Mated to you, he’s safe. Leave it be.”
Part of her wanted to do that. Her allegiance to the Hunt and Arawn stopped her. She walked over to the desk in the corner and idly arranged the items on it while she gathered her courage to admit she was going to purposely put her mate in the way of Arawn’s anger. It sickened her to do so. Necessary, though. She could see no other way to avoid it.
Lucas could not be allowed to challenge Arawn. Her father might be many things, but he had brought order to the Underworld and ensured retribution for the wronged. She feared the anarchy that would ensue without his firm hand of justice.
The Demon King wanted the power of Arawn’s position for his own personal reasons. He’d been played. That was what he’d told her. It wasn’t a good enough motive to upset the balance of Hell.
“Dammit, Tegan. I hate when you ignore me. Turn around and talk to me.”
“I’m not ignoring you.” She glanced over her shoulder. “I’m trying to absolve myself of guilt. I’m returning to Hell to tell Arawn about Minerva’s infidelity.”
Rhys’s eyes widened. “You found out who the father is and how she did it?”
Tegan pressed a hand to her chest. The memory of her heart stuttering because of Ian’s overzealous feeding returned. She’d wanted to hurt him. Scream at him. Maybe walk away from him. The sight of tears in his eyes had stopped her.
She ran her finger over the edge of a framed photo of Ian and his human family. “Yes, and it’s because of his birth father that I have to do this.”
Tegan took a deep breath and prayed Rhys didn’t react poorly to her announcement. “Ian’s father is an incubus.”
“Son of a bitch.” He growled. “Which one?”
“Lucas.” She related the rest of her conversation with Minerva and waited for his take on the situation, but he only stared at her.
“Well?” she finally asked.
He turned his hand over and glanced at his palm, the one marked by the Triad. “I was right all along. We’re nothing more than pawns in the Triad’s game.”
She tugged off her glove. The sight of the black jagged line quickened her breath. It had gotten wider and longer than when she’d last looked at it. She held out her hand. “And I think I’m losing.”
He grabbed her wrist. More ripe expletives fell from his mouth.
“I thought I’d figured out my challenge, but I was wrong,” she admitted.
“You thought mating Ian was your sacrifice, didn’t you?”
She nodded.
He shoved away from her and strode across the room to the window. He leaned against the edge and scanned the grounds. “You can’t fail. I refuse to lose you now that I’ve finally gotten you back. Figure it out.”
She matched his pose on the other side of the window casing. Rowan sat on a bench in the garden, arms wrapped around her knees. Tegan breathed a sigh at seeing her alone. “I’m trying, but I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”
The sensation of Rhys’s intense glare forced her gaze to him. His cold eyes accused her of being stubborn. She’d seen the look too many times not to understand it.
“It’s simple, little sister. Trust him.”
She glanced at Rowan. “Once I know Ian can control his need to feed, I will.” An idea flared. “I’ll help him. Teach him to control his rage and hunger. I’ll be patient with him and stand by his side, even when his gaze strays to other women. I won’t get angry.”
“You should be angry if he does that. It’s disrespectful.”
She threw her arms up in the air. “Then I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”
“You’ll figure it out. I have faith in you.”
That wasn’t what he’d implied a moment ago, but she didn’t comment. She wrapped his words around her and prayed they’d give her strength, because she didn’t have much faith in herself a
t the moment.
Too many threats surrounded her—the ones to Ian, to her family, and to her. She didn’t know if she could overcome them all. Before she tackled the personal ones, she had a duty to fulfill.
Arawn needed to know what he was up against so he could be ready for a possible threat to his position. The Underworld was a brutal place that didn’t allow for even a momentary weakness. Only the strong thrived.
And gods could be stripped of their power.
Minerva was proof.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Tegan found herself in Arawn’s office for the third time since she’d walked out of the fairies’ prison. Heart heavy, she waited for Arawn to pour his whiskey, then joined him at the bar. She glanced at his glass and wished she had one of her own. At the moment, she too needed the comfort it offered. Without a word, he handed her his drink and fixed another.
“What’s wrong, daughter?”
She took a sip, letting the liquor burn a slow path to her churning gut. “Ian and I are mated.”
He pointedly glanced at her hand and the fingerless leather gloves she wore. “I assumed as much.”
“I love him.”
“To purposely initiate the mate bond, I would guess you must. I am happy for you.”
He couldn’t have given her a more perfect opening, but doubt rushed up. She beat it back. She had no choice. Besides, Ian was safe in the human realm. As long as he stayed there, Arawn couldn’t remove his Huntsman’s mark. She’d make sure Ian remained among the mortals. Hopefully, time would ease her father’s shame, so he wouldn’t toss Ian from their Teulu.
Her thoughts calmed her. She held her father’s gaze. “I didn’t initiate the bond. Ian did. I simply completed it.”
He frowned. “That’s impossible.”
“No, it’s not.” She shook her head. “He’s a—”
“A what?” Arawn growled the question.
“He’s a demigod trapped in a human body.”
Arawn narrowed his eyes. “Care to explain that?”
She licked her lips and held her reasoning for telling him the truth close to her heart. He needed to know the danger he was in. “His mother placed his soul in a human body and ensured both his godly side and the traits he’d inherited from his father weren’t awakened until I was free of my confinement.”
There was still the question of how Minerva had known Tegan would be free in time to unleash him, but she suspected Minerva hadn’t, not really. No doubt the Triad had arranged the timing to fit its plan.
Silence descended upon them. Arawn didn’t move, blink, or even breathe. He could’ve been carved from granite. Minutes passed. Finally, he glanced at his drink. He swirled the contents and the clinking of ice on glass broke the pregnant moment.
“Who is his mother?”
A ball of dread landed in her gut. She drank the ambrosia-laced whiskey, but it did nothing to ease her. She set the glass aside, then met her father’s gaze. Pain already darkened them. He knew. His sorrow radiated from him. She could feel it in a way she never had before and was fairly certain she could take it from him. Her tie to Ian, maybe? She ignored the curiosity of her newly discovered ability. She didn’t have time to explore it.
She sighed and gave him the confirmation he sought. “Minerva.”
A pop sounded. Glass and ice hit the floor. Liquor sprayed over her. She didn’t move or react. She watched as red bled into the dual-ringed eyes she’d grown accustomed to seeing. Her father’s deeply tanned skin darkened more, and his features contorted into the face feared by humans and demons alike. The rest of the change swept over him, transforming him into the ten-foot winged monstrosity that marked his darker side.
Saliva dripped from his mouth and a growl emanated from his throat. She tipped her head to hold his gaze.
“And his father? Who dared touch my mate?”
“Lucas.”
Arawn’s roar reverberated in the cavernous chamber. She tensed and waited for him to lash out, at her or the room. He did neither. He dropped to his knees and hung his head. His wings drooped, and the sorrow which radiated from him choked her. She matched his pose and reached a hand toward him.
He snatched her wrist. “Do not touch me.”
“I want to help you.”
“Leave me.”
“No, you shouldn’t be alone.”
He raised his head. His blood-red eyes bored into her. “I did not ask you. I gave you a command. Leave me.”
She stood. “Fine, but know that you are in danger, so is Minerva. The Triad took her powers, and Lucas wants yours.”
He closed his eyes and released her arm. “Thank you for the warning, but I want you to leave. I would like to be alone.”
Another wave of sorrow hit her. Tears pricked her eyes. Arawn’s pain could’ve been hers. She reached for him again, needing to comfort him. He moved quicker than she’d expected, escaping to the opposite side of the bar. He grabbed the whiskey. “If you happen to run into my mate, send her to me.”
“I will, but promise me you won’t blame Ian. He didn’t choose his parents.”
Arawn drank from the heavy crystal decanter, then set it down with a hard thump. “I promise.”
She searched for some words of comfort to give him. None came to mind.
He glared at her. “Why are you still here? I told you to leave me.”
She hated the pain he was experiencing, but knew it was probably no different from what Minerva had experienced when he chose to create his army. Life had come full circle.
With nothing left to do, Tegan pivoted and left her beloved father alone to wallow in his shame.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Ian crouched next to Trevor on the ridge overlooking the valley where the two teenagers had gone missing. Directly below them, a small pool emptied into a lazy, meandering stream. The crushed brush around it and packed dirt suggested the area was frequently used. The empty bottles and cans littering the woods on the path implied its purpose, a drinking spot.
“Well, this is it.” Trevor sneered. “At least they could’ve made the kids clean the area.”
“Active investigation. They can’t.” They’d avoided the police tape by approaching from the south.
“True, but what about all the shit we passed on the way here?”
Ian fought the annoyance Trevor’s words spurred. “We’ll bring garbage bags and come back. Since when did you get so concerned about the environment, anyway?”
Trevor fisted his hands until they turned white. Tendons stood out along his neck. A tic beat on his jaw. Overall, he looked more pissed than Ian had seen him in a long time. He studied Trevor a moment. He’d been fine until…
Rowan.
“Talk. What’s wrong?” And if Trevor questioned again whether or not Ian would be faithful to Tegan, they’d fight. He was done with his friend’s attitude.
“How many more female Hunters are there?”
Ian’s breath escaped in a slow exhale. His tense muscles eased with the question, and he turned his focus to the woods. “A few, but they’re confined to Hell. Their minds are broken.”
“Too bad. I was hoping there’d be nicer ones to work with.”
A growl rumbled Ian’s chest. “You better not be talking about Tegan because—”
“I’m saying Rowan’s a bitch. She likes to play games.”
“I deserved her—”
“Not everything is about you.” Trevor shook his head. “Forget it. Shit’s not worth dwelling on.”
“What did she do to you?”
Trevor pointed. “I think we should head that way. The ground’s wetter in the shaded areas, it has more nutrients, and there’re fewer rocks. Better for mushrooms.”
He pushed to his feet and started walking before Ian could question him about his abrupt change in subject. A good thing. They didn’t have time to chitchat. The sun would set soon.
Ian followed. Several hundred feet into the wooded section, a path of stomped-down vege
tation marked the ground. It weaved through low-hanging evergreens and around pockets of mountain laurel and vines. A little farther in, rocks dotted the earth, turning it into a stone walkway. He wondered if it led to a house. Or marked the way to a fairy ring.
They continued walking along the path for several minutes. At the base of a wide, gnarled tree, it split. One footpath led deeper into the woods, the other down a set of moss-covered stone steps.
“Which way?” Trevor asked.
Ian glanced between the two trails. The steps looked inviting. If someone was wandering in the woods, they’d want to follow them. He knew he did. “The steps.”
“Then I’m going that way.” Trevor followed the path.
“Wait.”
Trevor stopped and peered over his shoulder.
“We should stick together. It’s getting late.”
“Exactly, and we’ve found jack shit.” Trevor patted his rear pocket. “I’ve got my cell. I’ll call if I find anything.”
He didn’t wait for Ian’s response. Trevor slipped into the shadows overtaking the woods.
“Stay on the path,” Ian called out.
“Yeah, yeah.” Trevor’s response sounded far away.
Ian didn’t like the idea of separating, but Trevor had a point. They hadn’t found anything, but the fairy ring was close. Ian would bet money on it. Besides, it wasn’t the first time they’d tramped through the woods together, searching for portals.
He gave the spot where Trevor had disappeared one last glance, then took the stairs. A wooden handrail marked the winding steps. Moss covered everything. He gripped the damp wood to avoid sliding the rest of the way. Splotches were missing on the banister and treads. Someone had traveled down them recently. He hoped it was the missing teens.
At the bottom, he found stagnant water and the remains of a small house. No roof, walls on three sides and shrubs sprouting from the entrance told him everything he needed to know. He’d gone the wrong way, but he approached the building anyway. Over the years, he’d learned not everything was as it seemed. Glamour, the fairies’ magic, clouded the mind, but if you looked closely enough, you could see through the veil it cast.
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