Terrance raised his brows and canted his head at the couch.
Dylan woke Aquaylae, bringing the drink to her lips. Her nose wrinkled. She pushed it away. “Please, love. You must drink this.”
“Stinks,” Aquaylae said.
“Medicine shouldn’t smell like flowers,” Dylan said. “Otherwise you’d get yourself hurt all the time just for a whiff.”
Terrance chuckled.
“Sometime today,” Vitae said.
“Vitae?” Aquaylae sipped, her face scrunching up. “What is he doing here?”
“You’re being moved,” Dylan said.
“No.” Aquaylae took another drink.
“This is not up for discussion,” Vitae said. “You’re injured, out of essence and Summuseraphi reported that the assault on you was premeditated.”
“You’d be better protected there,” Dylan said. “And the others could focus on why faeries are hurting animals if they don’t have to guard you here.”
“All right.” She wrinkled her face but took another swallow. “As long as you’re coming.”
Vitae stormed forward. “Absolutely not. You’re under house arrest, not on vacation.”
“We’re not allotted vacation.” Terrance lowered his voice. “Look how she responds. It might be best for her healing—”
“I declared it not so,” Vitae said.
“Very well,” Terrance said. “I shall address this with Summus.”
Vitae darkened.
Terrance raised his eyebrows. “There is time to declare again.”
“The wafer’s not coming,” Vitae snarled.
“Mortal,” Terrance corrected.
Quayla finished the drink. Terrance lifted her onto the stretcher. He and Vitae carried it down the stairwell. Dylan brought up the rear with a hastily-packed bag and a refilled cup of healing slurry.
Mrs. Cox exited her apartment. “Glad you decided to take her to the hospital.” Mrs. Cox pressed a silver frame into Dylan’s hands. “That officer seemed to think this was important.”
Terrance scowled.
As much as I hate to agree with Vitae in this, such friendships are double-bladed with a treacherous edge.
Dylan thanked her and offered it to Terrance. “You’ll need to take this. It’s Quayla’s after all.”
Mrs. Cox kissed Dylan’s cheek. “Smart boy, this one. You know, I know this preacher...”
Perhaps the other edge protects better than the first imperils.
Vitae
Terra drove away. Aquaylae’s mortal nuisance hovered over her, fighting to get her to drink more slurry.
Drinking that shouldn’t be a question. Recovering and returning to fighting strength is her duty.
I inclined my head to the mortal woman still trying to get me to taste her baked goods, stepped up to the ambulance and closed one of the doors. “Time to leave.”
Weak as she was, Aquaylae held her mortal’s hand, refusing to let him leave. I mounted the vehicle and pulled their hands apart, fixing Dylan with a glower. “Time. To. Go.”
Aquaylae reached out weakly. “Dylan...”
I crowded the mortal out of the ambulance then jumped down. With my back to him, I slammed the door. When my turn brought me witness of his hangdog expression, I knew it was time to act. I lowered my voice, infusing it with finality. “You are not an acceptable companion for Aquaylae. You are distracting her from her duty and that will get her killed.”
Dylan opened his mouth.
Power backlit my eyes. “There is no use trying to make excuses, you are the reason her death could’ve been final.”
“I didn’t—”
“I will not let one of my shields be destroyed by some frivolous relationship with a mortal who will shrivel and die in the blink of an eye.” I shoved Aquaylae’s phone into Dylan’s hands. “A memento. Cherish it while you still remember whose it was.”
The mortal stared down at the phone. Muscles along his face tightened and a reddish tinge crept up his neck.
“Take care with your tongue, mortal. You are fortunate I am leaving you with her memory for any length of time.” With a softer countenance, I spoke as to soften his resolve. “This is what’s best for Aquaylae. Do you want her to die? Would you instead make her watch you age and turn to dust in her arms?”
With that lasting image, I turned toward my Mercedes. I needed to get Aquaylae situated and see about checking the other shields’ residences for signs of taint.
Dylan seized my arm. “I’m not going to let you just push me out of her life. I love her.”
“Not enough it seems.”
“I’d give my life for hers.”
“You’d fight an impossible battle against powerful Sidhe? You, what most mortals would bully as an insignificant geek?” A derisive snort showed my contempt. “Geeks used to be carnival entertainers that bit heads from chickens solely for profit. You’re just as greedy, one more selfish mortal unwilling to give up his toys.”
“You’re wrong.”
“Deceive yourself all you like, great warrior, but you will not fool me. Be gone and trouble us no more. Defy me in this, and I shall hurry someone along to rewrite away every recollection of your life together.”
Quayla
I awoke beneath a thick down coverlet in a bedroom frozen in time—a reminder of royal bedchambers and age-old mistakes. Four antique bed posts supported a looming canopy frilled in hand woven lace. Antique lamps half-heartedly lit the room from atop furniture shaped by the same hands as the bed. “Ani?”
“I am here, Shield Aquaylae,” Anima said.
“Didn’t I ask you to call me just Quayla?”
“Yes, but the Shieldheart disabused me of that practice.”
I tried to sit up. Pain and a whirling room kept me down. I slammed both fists on the mattress at either hand and vented my frustrations at Anima. “It’s not his name, it’s mine...well as close to a name as I get to have.”
“Did you wish something, Quayla?” Anima asked.
I want out of this bed for one.
The automata that ran our headquarters sounded almost hurt, though such a thing shouldn’t have been possible.
I reached, but my essence refused to be caught. I furrowed my brow and focused harder. Pain seared though my head. When I failed, only one hope remained to me. “Is Dylan here?”
“Your former companion has been forbidden access.”
“Why d'you refer to Dylan as former?”
“Vitae has ended your relationship with him.”
A roaring waterfall filled my ears. I lurched out of bed on anger alone. “He did what?!”
Despite the frothing whitewater of my rage, my body was too weak to keep me on my feet. The world swam. My weight teetered onto my broken leg. Bones snapped. Pain lanced up my leg. Initial momentum carried me on as the leg buckled. I collapsed into the nearby bureau. Fire reignited in my chest, nearly eclipsing the pain in my heart.
I collapsed at the wall’s foot, barely able to catch breath through sobs, pain and my once again punctured lung.
“Help is coming, Shield Aquaylae.”
Tears blinded me. I shook my head, trying to force the words from thought into reality. “Just let me die.”
Ignis
Ignis stood over Quayla’s bed. He hadn’t seen her when she’d first been relocated, but it was all he could do not to wince. “Why haven’t you helped her along?”
Vitae glared through lowered lashes. “A lesson is called for. She brought this upon herself.”
“She’s young.”
“It’s about time she grew up. She’s more than old enough to know better.”
Ignis’s temper flickered. “We’ve had a run of Veil breaches. The situation is deteriorating fast, and DragonCon will only make things worse. There’s a feeling of oppression on the streets. Even the mortals are feeling it. We need her on her feet.”
“The four of us can handle things,” Vitae said.
“Vitae—”
“I am as ca
pable of dealing with faeries as you are!”
Ignis held up his hands. “I meant no aspersions against character nor prowess, but you are the Shieldheart. Yours is the only essence that can transform the normal elements into something that can rejuvenate us.”
Heat bolstered Vitae’s tone. “My duty is to serve the Light. My duty is to guide and correct the members of this shield in service for His glory. I perform my duty gladly despite the fact that you all treat me like your maid—when you’re not acting as if I am some kind of pariah. Is a little respect or consideration too much to ask?”
Ignis examined the old life phoenix.
Vitae had taken Mare’s death hard. At first, they hadn’t questioned Vitae’s withdrawal. They’d given him the space he needed to heal. Vitae had emerged from his pain and thrown himself into books and duty. Poor Caelum had taken the brunt of Vitae’s drive to form the perfect Shield—until Quayla arrived.
The water phoenix laid out between them brought on the rebirth of Vitae’s pain. She’d needed nurturing, and Vitae had needed someone to blame. Ignis and Terrance had done what they could to help Quayla, protecting her from Vitae’s temper by limiting the Shieldheart’s opportunity to cast blame on her.
They’d tried to help Vitae too, but he’d resisted their efforts and found reason after reason to take issue with Quayla.
Their Shieldheart’s loss had embrittled him. As the mortal world changed faster and faster, Vitae hadn’t changed with it. In the last century of mortal changes, Ignis had been able to leave the nest, to interact with humanity. Such came with both good and bad, but Vitae clung to the old ways, keeping a lofty vigil separated not only from humanity, but from the others of his Shield.
Life is his element and yet he separates himself from the beating heart of our protectorate.
Ignis licked his lips. “What you ask is within your due. I’ll speak to the others, but couldn’t you heal Quayla enough for her to—”
Absolute certainty rang from Vitae’s words. “What I do is best for her.”
Anima claimed Quayla wished openly for death, and she lied to me about that Fae Kissed. I remember the misery of losing a love, but never did that pain escape my lips.
Even in sleep she looked tormented by pain and loss, ghosts and nightmares. His eyes flicked to the scowl on Vitae’s face.
Perhaps we should have done more to protect her. Vitae may not be correct, but Quayla needs time to repair not just her body, but her heart.
“I support your decision, Vitae, and will lend my voice to yours, encouraging the others to abide by your wishes.”
Vitae’s shoulders relaxed. “I am heartened by your support.”
“This decision requires you come down among the mortals.”
“I am not some hatchling. I can fight just as well as you or Terra.”
No doubt, but I rather hope time on the streets reminds you that we employ other skills than just fighting.
“Vitae, Ignis, I am detecting an incursion,” Anima said.
“I will see to it.” Vitae said
“Terrance is closer, Shieldheart,” Anima said. “I merely notified you in accordance with your request.”
“Understood. I’ll handle the next one.” Vitae watched Ignis for an objection.
Ignis offered none.
“Anima, when Terra is through, have him report here.” Vitae eyed Ignis. “We can at least ease Aquaylae’s discomfort and hurry her onto the path needed for her to see to her own condition.”
Ignis patted Vitae on the back. “A wise choice, Heart of Our Shield.”
Quayla
I sat naked in my nest, unable to stop the tears. Caelum’s phone turned over and over in my hands, but Dylan refused to answer either my calls or texts. He even refused to answer my voicemail pleas to call me back. Fury dug nails into my palms deeply enough that I risked having to rebalance again.
How dare he? How dare Vitae? How could he be so cruel?
A single knock proceeded Vitae into my room. “Good, you’re tending your nest.”
I folded my arms. “So glad you approve, Judas.”
“Wait, why are you doing it that way?” Vitae asked. “That’s all wrong. You’ll never keep your nest full like that.”
How about you go stick fishhooks through your eyeballs?
“Tears are too slow. You need to extrude essence and separate it like you do when you hurl the blade of your Karambit daggers.”
“That will leave me too weak to help with all these breaches.”
Besides, that hurts.
“We will protect this Shield. You will focus on recovery. Drinking the bolstering slurry will help with weakness, but if you truly wish to speed your return to duty, you must do as I suggest. So, be about it.” He strode from my room, closing the door behind him with a firm click.
“Be about it,” I mocked. “Do what I say—unicorns fly out of my butt when I fart.”
“Vitae did not claim that,” Anima said.
Another Judas.
Where I hadn’t been able to stop crying, Vitae’s condescension and my answering anger dried my eyes. I stood, pulling myself up onto the crossbar to drip. “Suppose you’re going to tell me how to do my job or go tattling?”
“I am only a Watcher. I’m not qualified to judge a shield.”
“Well, neither is he.” I stormed out. “Where is he?”
“Vitae is in the library.”
I descended the stairs under a full head of steam. Unsteady legs and traitorous balance stole strength from my charge. I threw open the door. “How dare you order me around? How dare you say whatever you did to Dylan? How dare you—”
“Vitae, the sentry net has detected two, no, three breaches.”
Vitae held a hand up in my face. “Status on the other shields?”
“Caelum and Ignis just reported sensing the breaches in their seeds. They’re heading to the respective incursions.”
“Terra?” Vitae asked.
“Terrance and Summus are still cleaning up a breach pair in the Mall of Georgia,” Anima said. “Vitae, I have three more Veil breaches totaling six.”
My pulse quickened. “Are any of them paired?”
“Yes. That’s very odd,” Anima said. “They’re all paired—in geographically separate sectors of Atlanta—but all in relatively close proximity to one another.”
Vitae stepped around me. “Notify Terra to pick up the fourth as soon as possible. I’ll take the ones farthest from him. Whoever finishes first will meet up to help the others.”
“I can help,” I said.
“When you’re done with your tantrum, you will tend to your nest.” Vitae scowled at me. “While you remain injured and your nest unable to sustain another rebirth, I cannot allow you to leave the sanctum.”
I threw my hands up. “Then what the hell am I supposed to do while you’re all out fighting?”
Vitae snatched a book from the nearby shelf. “Educate yourself. Even you ought to be able to manage that while resting between meals and adding essence to your nest so you can be of some help.”
Vitae sprinted out of the library, leaving me to my anger. I shrieked, almost throwing the book he’d foisted off on me.
Except damaging books reserves you a place in a very special hell.
“That book is quite interesting, Shield Aquaylae,” Anima said.
I turned the ancient book over in my hands. Velum pages had been hand laced between perfectly cut and oiled pieces of leather. The title had been burned into the leather in simple, understated letters: A Shieldheart’s Guide to Nests.
I left the book on a side table and did my best to stomp back to my room on my wobbly legs. Vitae refused to allow televisions in the sanctum and I’d never seen a need to collect digital copies of my tear jerkers. Without a way to watch sad movies, I tried to remember them instead, but tears didn’t come.
I tried thinking about Dylan.
Nothing I tried penetrated my anger and worry over being out of the fight w
hen my brothers—even Vitae of all people—were embroiled in battle. I paced around my nest. Legs wobbled uncertainly with each step, but the motion eased my feelings of helplessness. Imagining different revenges against my Shieldheart kept the furnaces of my anger roaring.
Anima announced another pair of Veil breaches.
“Have the others cleared the other incursions?” I asked.
“They’re still engaged,” Anima said.
I snatched up my Karambit and dressed. “I’ll take this one.”
I charged down the stairs, jabbed the elevator button. Nothing happened. “Ani, I don’t have my card. Activate this lock with my access.”
The locking mechanism blinked red.
I scowled. “Ani, try it again please.”
Red.
“Ani?”
A timid reply exited the nearest speaker. “Vitae suspended your access.”
“I’m a prisoner?” I asked.
“You’re in protective custody.”
“And why didn’t you tell me this when I asked you to key the locks?” I asked.
Anima’s voice became smaller. “I didn’t want you mad at me.”
Every feather of my body felt as if it intended spontaneous combustion.
“I am sorry,” Anima said.
It’s not her fault. It’s that damn, arrogant, know-it-all son-of-a-troll!
I paced the foyer, running through insults and options.
If I transmogrify, I could fly out of here.
I turned toward the stairs.
“Just so we’re clear, it wasn’t me who ordered all the windows and balcony accesses sealed,” Anima said.
The shriek escaped my throat like a hunting cry. I stormed into the library, pacing its shelves like a trapped animal. Another Arch opened, but I remained trapped.
“I don’t think your actions are very restful,” Anima said.
“I should care why?” I asked.
“You should care because you need rest to restore yourself to fighting trim,” Anima said.
Vitae has trapped me...for now.
“It seems obvious you are deeply troubled by your inability to assist your Shield brothers,” Anima continued. “Your current actions may well be worsening your condition and delaying sufficient recovery to help them.”
Blighted hells. She’s right. I’ve no choice but to rest.
Ashes of Raging Water Page 20
