by Megan Marple
“I don’t blame you, Gwen. It’s not your fault you got dragged into all of this—you and Fiona-Leigh. You could’ve kept living in the Human Realm without knowing any different, just like before,” Gentry said simply, inspecting the pendant at eye-level. “This is quite a piece, isn’t it? It’s not only beautiful, but it’s incredibly powerful as well. Do you know much about the Stone of Joyce?”
Oh my dragons, was he really going to sit here and do the whole “taunting villain” thing?
“No, but why do I get the feeling you’re about to mansplain it to me?” I hissed.
Gentry smirked at me. “No, it isn’t of much consequence to you right now, anyway. I was just curious. Now Fiona-Leigh, I’m going to need you to take my favorite blade here,” he said, brandishing a bone-handled knife, “and place it an inch away from your mother’s navel—pointy end first.”
I sucked in a quick breath as she took the bone-handled knife from him, her face twitching as her eyes brimmed with tears. She was clearly fighting it, but being the human that she was, she was no match for Gentry’s Siren magic, and she slowly shuffled over to me. Standing in front of me, Fiona-Leigh did exactly as she was commanded, the sharp point of the knife shining exactly an inch away from my stomach. All I wanted to do was to reach out to her, to hold her and tell her it was going to be okay. But I had already decided not to lie to her anymore, and I drew in a shaky breath. “Fi, baby. Whatever happens, I love you more than anything else in this whole world, okay? And as soon as you get the chance, I want you to run from here. Find Aunt Bee, find Uncle Gentry — anyone. I’m so sorry, baby.”
Behind all three of us, my little brother struggled against his restraint.
“But it doesn’t have to be as dramatic as all that, you see?” Gentry added, taking a few steps closer to me. “I want your word that you will let me take your brother into custody. No one will get hurt if you listen to me.”
I struggled to think of what to do next. “I want to ask you something first.”
He looked at me, clearly the gears in his mind turning, wondering what I was up to. “Do you?”
“Why are you doing all of this, Gentry? Is it because of Delaney?”
At the sound of her name, Gentry’s eye twitched. “Ah. So your brother did divulge what he knew, after all. I was wondering. And since you were polite enough to ask, yes. I do what I do for her. I’ve always done what she needed me to do—that’s kind of how love works, not that I’d expect you to understand. From what I’ve heard about your little tryst with the human . . . well, it’s not a topic you probably have much knowledge about.”
I knew he was just trying to attack me at my weakest points, so I continued. “How does she have such a strong enough pull on you to make you turn against your own kind like this?”
“I didn’t realize you had such an interest in my love life, Gwen, I have to admit I find it intriguing. You never did really give in to our chemistry though, did you? I thought it might be the easiest way to get to you, but apparently I was wrong,” he said casually, shrugging.
“Chemistry?” I scoffed. “I only tolerated you because you were working for my uncle and I respect him and the way he wants to handle things. That’s it.”
In front of me, Fiona-Leigh moved her mouth just slightly as if to try and catch my attention. I didn’t want to draw any attention to her, so I ignored it, hoping she wouldn’t do anything stupid. We didn’t exactly have the upper hand here.
“It’s seriously a shame, Brady. It was never personal against you or her. You can’t help being born into a crappy family. Believe it or not, I have found you to be somewhat more intelligent than the average Brady.” Gentry turned back to face my brother, spouting off about when he first laid eyes on Delaney.
It was just enough of the distraction for Fiona-Leigh to wiggle her eyebrows, and mouth the word “watch.” Watch what?
But the moment she was able to slowly pull her hand away from my stomach, it hit me. This was all an act.
While Gentry did have the pendant and I didn’t, I had already previously enchanted Fiona-Leigh’s earrings, the magic imbibed in them must’ve been just strong enough to keep her from being forced under Gentry’s Siren magic. It was rather unusual, for sure, but I was willing to take any chance we had to keep her safe.
My daughter winked at me just as he turned back around, the blade already back in the position where it was before as if nothing had happened.
I didn’t know what Fiona-Leigh intended to do, and the thought was terrifying. I knew my daughter well enough to know that she wasn’t just going to stand here and take this. She was much too much like me, in that aspect.
“So what now, Gentry? You’re going to kill my brother? Because let’s be honest here, you have no intention of actually handing him over to the MARC, do you?”
A twisted smile cut across his face. “Well, it wouldn’t make any sense for me to hand over the only eyewitness who saw me kill Enoch, now would it? I had to make sure I was the one the Mage Officer chose to head the investigation — I had to earn his trust. You want to know the funny thing about this pendant, Gwen? Your uncle got it from me. I knew I was going have to go through some kind of trial or test to prove to Gardner Brady that I was trustworthy. The Stone of Joyce is an old Fae relic that’s been guarded by Fairy Knights for over one hundred years. That was, until I killed them and gained access to the stone myself. Gardner never once questioned how I obtained it, of course, or maybe he just didn’t care. But with my close connection to Arcadia, he thought I would be much more useful than the average Shadow Hand.” With that, Gentry tossed the pendant into the air and caught it easily, shrugging at his own smugness. It was enough to make me want to strangle him even more.
Fiona-Leigh’s eyes opened wide and just as I was about to signal to her to hold off whatever she was planning, she spun around and drove the blade straight into Gentry’s own stomach.
He dropped to his knees instantly, the pendant falling to the floor and skittering out of his reach. The momentum of my struggling against the spell caused me to nearly trip over my own two feet when it ceased, but I dove anyway, grabbing the pendant’s chain just in time for Gentry to launch grab at my leg.
But Tristan had been let down from his own restraints, and went careening straight into Gentry, knocking them both back down on the ground.
“Sleep now,” I said inside my head, splaying my fingers out in front of me, the magic glowing from my fingertips as it shot out in a starburst toward Gentry until he passed out cold.
The blade dropped from Fiona-Leigh’s hand, who was shaking, her face ashen with shock at what she had done, but I yanked her toward me, wrapping my arms tightly around her, intent on never letting go.
“Are you two okay? He didn’t hurt you, did he?” Tristan gasped, colliding into us on the floor, looking over the two of our faces to check for injuries.
I shook my head. “My knee’s a little banged up, but other than that I’m fine. You’re okay, right Fi?”
She gulped and slowly nodded, speechless for possibly the first time in her life.
I glanced over my shoulder in Gentry’s direction, wondering how appropriate it would be for me to land a few good kicks to his head.
36
We didn’t even have to wait for Uncle Gardner to use the transport to get back — he had chosen to create a temporary gateway straight to the inside of the manor house, instead.
“So that’s how you proofed into my house the first time,” I said faintly to Aunt Bedelia as she and Aunt Ginevra both rushed forward to us on the floor. Uncle Gardner wasn’t far behind.
“Oh my dear sweet boy,” Aunt Bee sobbed as she threw her thin arms around Tristan’s neck, nearly knocking him over.
Uncle Gardner looked over Gentry, poking at him with the toe of his shiny black boot. “I suppose I’ll have to slap some non-magic cuffs on him, just in case he wakes up soon. Then again,” he said, before bending down and seeing the small pool of blood that ha
d seeped through Gentry’s shirt, “that’s if he wakes up.”
But I shook my head. “As brutal as I’d love to be here, sir, I’ve already patched him up. Not that he deserved it or anything.”
In fact, Fiona-Leigh was the one who had been adamant that we needed to do something to help Gentry. I wasn’t exactly ready to unpack the rage I felt toward him, but I could understand her guilt.
After all, she’d never done anything even remotely close to stabbing someone in the stomach before. I had to remind myself that I should just feel grateful that I have a child who is such a good person through and through. But you wouldn’t see me crying over Gentry if he had bled out.
When Aunt Bedelia finally released Tristan from her clutches, she looked up at Fiona-Leigh and I as we stood up, her eyes bloodshot and teary. “Oh girls, I am so sorry we weren’t here for you. If I had any idea that you’d found Tristan . . . I would’ve come immediately.”
I waved her off. “It’s no one’s fault, Aunt Bee. We were trying to figure out how to explain Tristan’s sudden reappearance without having him mistakenly taken in.” At this, I turned to Uncle Gardner. “He didn’t do it, sir. In fact, Gentry Whitemourn is the right-hand man and apparently boyfriend of Delaney Drakar. Gentry himself even confessed to murdering Enoch. It’s the whole reason why he joined the Shadow Hands in the first place — to get to a high enough position so that they could have a spy among the MARC, I’m guessing.”
Uncle Gardner sighed. “Well, let’s just be thankful that you figured it out before he saw Tristan.”
Tristan, who was just now pulling himself up from the floor, could barely stand to meet our uncle’s gaze. “Sir, I’m so sorry to have put everyone through the ringer like this. Believe me when I say it was not my intention at all.”
Uncle Gardner folded his arms across his massive chest. “And what was your intention, Tristan? I don’t suppose you’d like to fill me in?”
This was a conversation that was going to have to wait, as far as I saw it. “Can we save this for later? My daughter kind of just stabbed a man in the gut, and I need to take a look at my knee. We might even possibly want something for lunch, who knows?” All of the explanation and mounds of paperwork that were sure to follow would just have to hold off for now.
“I would, Gwennie, but I can’t exactly stroll outside of the house now. Not with the potential for news to spread that I’m back.” Tristan hung his head. “Even after everyone finds out that I was trying to help the MARC, Enoch’s crew will undoubtedly label me as a traitor to the Market, and they’ll come for me.”
“Gardner, isn’t there anything we can do to help him?” Aunt Ginevra asked, placing her hand on her husband’s chest. “I think we all know that Tristan deserves our gratitude, not our scorn here.” As usual, Aunt Ginevra proved herself to be a voice of reason with Uncle Gardner.
“Gin is right, Gardner. We have no reason to doubt Tristan,” Aunt Bedelia said.
My uncle looked at both of them, his jaw set. “Yes you two, I understand what you’re saying.” He heaved a great sigh, scratching at his beard as he surveyed my brother with an expression I couldn’t quite place. “I’ll make sure we have extra security detail on you at all times. And I’ve already put a few operatives in place not only in the Dark Market, but among the Fontaine family, as well. If Delaney Drakar makes a move against anyone, I’ll be the first to know it.”
As much as I didn’t want to break up this little scene, I frowned, unable to help myself. It felt like he was trying to quickly sweep all of this aside now that Tristan was back home. “Right . . . but you weren’t ready with Gentry,” I said slowly, jutting my thumb in the direction of Gentry’s passed-out form lying on the floor. “I mean, you made him the head of Tristan’s case, even. You trusted him completely, but one of the number one rules of being a Shadow Hand is to judge everything with extreme caution. He was around my daughter on several different occasions, sir. I’m sorry, but you messed up. And I know I shouldn’t be saying this, especially given the things I’ve done in the past, but someone needs to say it. There needs to be some serious accounting for done not only on the Academy and its trainees, but the MARC as well. I’ve heard things. Things that don’t show the MARC in such a great light. And this is going to be the icing on top of the elderberry cake once words gets out.”
Everyone else had gone silent.
I expected him to rage and lash out at me with words I had been fearing since I had originally left Spell Haven almost fifteen years ago. It would have been completely in character for him, most certainly.
But Uncle Gardner, with the white and silver threading through his dark beard and hair, simply looked at me. In this light, it was easier to see how he’d grown older in more ways than one.
“You’re right, Gwendolyn. I made a mistake, and I put those that I love in grave danger by not knowing it. The entire system and Institute will have to be gone through with a fine-tooth comb, just as you’ve said. Things haven’t been the same for a while now, and while there are many different factors that maybe you aren’t aware of, you are right that it needs to be changed.” He looked back to Tristan, who was just as shocked as the rest of us. “Forgive me, Tristan. Forgive me for of being so harsh on you before, and although I don’t completely agree with what you’ve done, I am willing to hear you out, and as I’ve said, I will make sure you are completely protected no matter what.”
Aunt Bee burst into tears even louder than before, using her flowy bell sleeve to blow her nose as Aunt Ginevra put her arm around her shoulders and squeezed. “You two, I swear!”
Was it just my imagination, or did Uncle Gardner smile at his sister? When he turned back to me and pretended to roll his eyes at her antics, he nodded his head toward the direction of the piano in the parlor. “Can I have a word?”
The two of us left the others behind, though I saw Fiona-Leigh watching me when I looked back over my shoulder.
Uncle Gardner sat down at the piano bench, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, clasping his hands together. “Will you forgive an old man his previous prejudices? I certainly understand if you don’t wish to. But Gwendolyn — Gwen, I think I can speak for everyone here when I say that I’ve missed you terribly. Having you around again made me realize how much I’ve put every ounce of my life into the MARC. Even with my own three children and Ginevra, I should have been there more. And you risking everything to help find and save your brother only made me painfully aware of how much I missed both of you. Of how much I missed your father and even your mother. So much has happened since you left, but may I be honest here with you?”
“Yes?” I said, my voice barely above a whisper and shaking. I definitely had not been expecting him to say any of that.
“I wish you to come back home, Gwen. All of us do. You could build a life here just like you had before. I need you back at the MARC. Not only will I give you your title back, I’ll ensure that Fiona-Leigh has private tutoring for whatever she wants to learn. It’s completely up to you. She can even train with Erie if she would like. Erie informs me of Fiona-Leigh’s interest in creature science. She seems like a lovely young woman, very much like her mother . . .”
At risk of completely losing it, I sat down next to him, letting my head lay on his broad shoulder for the first time since I was a child. “I truly appreciate everything you’ve ever done for me and my brother, sir. And thank you for everything else, as well.” Looking out across the parlor and into the foyer where Fiona-Leigh was still standing, her arms around herself, watching me intently, I sighed. “But I know where I belong. With my daughter and the life that I created for her. I can’t just yank her out of that. But thank you, thank you so much for telling me this. You’ll never know how much it means to me.”
There was a resigned sadness in his eyes as he placed his hand over mine and squeezed tightly. “As you wish.”
37
“Should we put some butter on this?”
Fiona-Leigh plopped down
onto the couch next to me, holding the big plastic bowl of what must’ve easily been three bags of microwave popcorn.
I dove my hand into the bowl, popping a few of the kernels into my mouth. “Hm. I think it could use a good butter to salt ratio.”
Jax jumped up onto the arm of the sofa, sniffing the air around us. I tossed a piece of popcorn toward him and he immediately snatched it up, both me and Fiona-Leigh giggling.
After the possibly the longest twenty-four hours ever and grudgingly staying the night in Spell Haven thanks to my aunt’s nagging, Fiona-Leigh and I were back home in Midnight Pitch, safely curled up under one of my old blankets and ready to pick the latest cheesy horror movie to watch. Horror movies aren’t really my thing, but whatever I could do to make her feel better, that’s what we were doing.
She skimmed through the Netflix queue, scrunching up her face with each gory looking title. “Ooh, Mom look. What about Zom-Beavers?” She was pointing to a picture of a woman in a bikini holding up a stake, spread-eagled in front of what was probably a zombie beaver. Or at least a beaver with rabies or something.
I laughed. “Yeah. That looks like pure gold. Remind me why we’re watching stupid horror movies again?”
But she just rolled her eyes at me, nudging at me with her elbow. “Oh, come on. Live a little.”
“I feel like I’ve done enough living to last me the rest of my life, funny enough,” I mumbled before shoveling in a mouthful of popcorn.
“How did all of that go, by the way?” Oisín drawled from the doorway, before pouncing onto the coffee table in front of us, stretching out his legs. He had the air of someone who could not care less, but I knew better.
“Thanks to you, we were able to get Gentry to confess. I mean at least you helped a little anyway.” I held up my thumb and forefinger until they were barely apart.
Fiona-Leigh grinned at him. “We couldn’t have done it without you, Osh. Seriously. You were a huge help.”
