Mending the Rift

by Shea Balik

  Mending the Rift

  Druid’s Curse 8

  The end would be upon Brandr and his friends soon. The only question, would Brandr be able

  to find his fated one in time? He feared was too late when he arrived to find the field empty.

  Then the Veil opens again and hell rains down upon him as the Unseelie pets attack. But when

  Brandr was too injured to move, the Druid he was destined to claim as his own flees in terror.

  Talk about demoralizing.

  That did not happen. Not even in some weird fantasy could Logan have imagined that a dead

  man could come back to life. And he had definitely been dead, since Logan had to put his head

  back on his body. But when he was faced with the truth, that the man was immortal, Logan has

  to admit to being… intrigued.

  As Samhain draws closer, the danger around them increases as the Fae converge. They must

  be defeated if Brandr and Logan hope to find their happily ever after. Only by working together

  will they have any chance of Mending the Rift and saving humanity.

  Copyright ©2019 Shea Balik

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Cover by: Harris Channing

  Edited by: Avril Stepowski

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  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Epilogue

  Coming Soon from Shea Balik

  CHAPTER 1

  “What the…?” Brandr looked around but there was no sign that anyone was…there. At all. Not even a bird or deer, although that could be because of the white line that was forming in the sky. However, it didn’t explain why he could feel the druids, yet, other than a huge patch of nothing mixed with tall dry grass as far as the eye could see, there was nothing and no one around.

  Every cell inside of him had led him there, so where were they? Hell, by the Veil starting to open, it was obvious the Fae felt them, too. It wasn’t as if they could have disappeared without a trace.

  All he knew was, whether the druids were there or not, the Fae were about to come into the human world, which meant Brandr had to fight. A challenge with no one around to seal the Veil? Sometimes. Really it depended on what was coming through that Veil.

  The Unseelie pets weren’t too challenging so long as they didn’t overwhelm him. It would be the Unseelie or Seelie coming through that would prove daunting. Being immortal meant he wouldn’t die, but it didn’t mean they wouldn’t come close. Or that it wouldn’t hurt.

  Glancing around, he saw a small set of rocks about a hundred feet away. Heading to them, he tucked his med kit alongside it so it hopefully wouldn’t get damaged. Even without the druids, the Veil would seal eventually. It would just take longer.

  The odds of him being hurt enough to need that med kit was high. The only problem he could foresee, was whether or not he’d be in any shape to get to the supplies he’d brought to put himself back together.

  Thanks to that stupid curse that had made him immortal, he’d heal from anything the Fae could do to him. That said, a broken bone was a broken bone. Sure, for him, it would take no more than a few days to be back to normal, but for at least a day, he wouldn’t be able to move.

  With no shelter and the only food and water in his med kit, it would seriously suck if he wasn’t able to get to it because they broke one of his legs or his back. It would have been helpful if at least one of the druids had stayed behind to help.

  His eyes scanned the flat landscape again. Nothing. Only that ever widening opening of the Veil.

  He tried not to be too disappointed. After twelve hundred years of trying to help the druids only to be rebuffed, laughed at, or run off with torches and pitchforks – Medieval Times was no joke and definitely an apt description. It was the rare few who ever wanted their help. And that was only if they had stuck around to receive it in the first place.

  This wasn’t Brandr’s first time showing up to where the Veil was opening to find any druids that had been there were gone. Except… slowly, he turned in a circle again. Why did he still feel them near if he couldn’t see them?

  “Logan,” he called out. His heart sped up a little as he waited for a response. Logan was the druid he was there for. The one Brandr was meant to save. The one who was destined to be claimed by Brandr and help to seal the Veil completely.

  The hope that Logan would pop out from somewhere dissipated as the Veil opened and two of the Unseelie pets walked across into the human world. As much as Brandr wished to find Logan, he had to ensure these pets didn’t make it further than this field.

  The curse may have been placed upon him to protect druids as they performed the ritual to seal the Veil every six to seven weeks but Brandr also wasn’t about to let the Fae hurt innocent humans who knew nothing about what existed in the Fae Realm. Like the pets.

  That they could be called pets was laughable. For they were horrific monsters that were bred to fight so the Unseelie didn’t have to. Their bodies were combinations of animals he was used to seeing on earth. The one coming at him, for instance, had the head of an alligator, but whose teeth were anywhere from a foot long to two feet long as they got closer to the front of his long snout.

  Its body appeared to be that of either a bull, or hell, it might be a bear. It was hard to discern with only a broad chest and thick waist to figure it out. But instead of either scales from the head or fur from the body, which would make the most sense for either type of creature, it was covered in feathers.

  Oh, right, and he couldn’t forget the fact that this bipedal beast had claws large enough to slice a body in half with one swipe. Which had happened on one o
ccasion to Brandr. Talk about pain.

  Not only did he feel as if he was on fire when those lethal claws had ripped him open, but the healing hadn’t exactly been a walk in the park. It had taken three full days for the agony to reduce to something that allowed him to breath without wishing for death.

  That had been something he swore he would never allow to happen again. Then again, he and his seven other Viking friends had all made those claims at some point or other. Sometimes they were able to succeed – for now. The problem was, the more they fought these things, as well as the Unseelie who trained them, or the Seelie for that matter, the more likely it would be that one of them would be cut in half again.

  Sword in hand, Brandr quickly killed the first two pets that had come through the Veil. Shaking his head as he looked toward the opening only to find at least a dozen more, Brandr knew this was going to be a long day, especially if there were no druids around to seal that damn hole and stop the monsters from stepping into the human world.

  “Fuck me,” a voice said from somewhere behind Brandr.

  Spinning just enough so he could still keep an eye on the pets as they approached, Brandr saw two men standing there with scowls on their faces, as two women and two more men quite literally walked up through a hole in the ground that hadn’t been there when he’d first arrived.

  “Figures one of you would show up,” the other man said before spitting on the ground as if somehow Brandr was worse than the pets.

  “When are you cursed ones going to get the hint that we don’t want you around?” The one who swore in the beginning said.

  Typically, as a doctor, Brandr did his best to help others in need. As a Viking? Not so much. Stepping aside and gesturing to the now three dozen pets that were heading right for them. “Tell you what,” he said. “I’ll stand back and let you deal with them. That way, you won’t have to thank me for saving your miserable lives.”

  “You’re probably the reason they’re here in the first place,” the other man said, spitting again when he was done speaking. And they thought he was disgusting.

  One of the two women came up and slapped both men on the backs of their heads. “Wallace,” she said of the one who spit. “Gerlad,” she said to the other. “Be nice. We need him if we’re going to keep that promise to Logan.”

  Everything stilled as Brandr heard the name he’d been dreaming about since Tess had mentioned it nearly two months ago. Brandr, along with the family he and his friends were building, had been on their way to save Mingus, the seventh of the eight druids that would fulfill the prophecy Aed had seen in a vision after he’d cursed Brandr and his seven Viking friends.

  The prophecy was of Aed’s decedents doing what he’d been trying to accomplish the day he’d died. Permanently seal the Veil between the human world and the Fae realm so the Fae could no longer hurt anyone like they had Aed’s daughter, Ceit.

  Ever since Ryley, who had been the start of the prophecy –had come into their lives, Brandr had heard about the others. To prove that fact, Ryley, Kegan, Cullen, Dermot, Teagan, Wylie, Mingus, and Logan had been druid friends since they were born.

  Recently, they’d discovered their ancestry all led back to Aed. Unfortunately, the Fae either sensed something was different, or as they had several times over the past millennia, they’d sent their pets through the opening to attack the druids bent on trying to keep the Veil closed.

  For the most part, it worked, but the spells had to be cast every six to seven weeks or the fibers of the Veil would start to break down, allowing it to open enough for some of the Fae to come into the human world.

  But in all the times Brandr had heard the other druids talk about each member, including Logan, he’d never really thought about one of them being destined to be his. Until Tess, that was. Tess was unique. She was half druid/half Fae and had abilities no one else had since the Fae had been the ones to gift the druids with their magic in the first place.

  He couldn’t explain it, but when Tess had said Logan belonged with Brandr, it resonated within him to the point that Brandr had spent every waking moment he wasn’t fighting the Fae to find Logan.

  “Where’s Logan?” he demanded of the woman who’d said his name.

  “No way,” Wallace said, spitting yet again. “We’re not letting you anywhere near that boy.”

  As the man was at least fifty and Logan would have turned twenty-one that morning, Brandr couldn’t blame Wallace for calling him boy. Although, it still rankled. Then again, he was fairly sure anything Wallace said would have the same effect on him since the man was clearly an ass.

  “Wa…” the woman started to call out.

  But Brandr had been fighting these Unseelie pets for twelve hundred years. No way was one going to sneak up on him.

  Pivoting, the pet missed him with his giant cloven limbs. Just as the thing had reached forward, Brandr’s sword had come up, cutting him cleanly, starting at the waist and ending about the height of his arm pits in the back. The two halves dropped to the ground but Brandr didn’t watch, for there were already four more clamoring for the chance to do to him what he’d just done to one of them.

  Three more bodies dropped but they were replaced faster than he killed them. Surrounded, with little chance of making it out of this without serious injury, he yelled, “Ritual, before we all die.”

  A minute later he heard the telltale whoosh of a fire erupting. He was guessing two of the six had powers that would help fight the pets, for one had quite literally exploded as it dove for Brandr to tackle him. Another just dropped to the ground. The only sign something was wrong, other than he wasn’t moving, was the foam pouring out of its mouth.

  It felt like he’d been fighting for hours when he saw the flash of light that indicated the Veil had finally closed. But there had to still be at least forty or fifty pets that he could see. Who knew if there were more than that?

  Each movement he made was performed with thought to be efficient as he killed one after another of the pets. Not only did he need to conserve his energy, but the last thing Brandr wanted was to allow any of these things to get away and hurt someone.

  One by one, they went down, but they surrounded him, closing the gap between him and them as they did so. When he was no longer able to swing his sword, Brandr dropped it and two knives were in his hands within the blink of an eye.

  He was down to ten left when Brandr made a mistake. He’d thrust the knife clean through the beast before him, making it impossible to pull it out. Had he realized that would happen, he would have dropped the knife and taken one of another dozen strapped to his body.

  But he hadn’t known that he wouldn’t be able to pull the knife back easily. That tiny little lapse of judgment was all it took for one pet to slash Brandr’s neck with its razor sharp talons.

  One moment he’d been upright, fighting, the next moment his head hit the ground just in time to see the rest of his body crumple into a heap a foot away.

  He could see several of the pets fall as someone took them down. But there were still many left when a pair of booted feet stepped into his line of vision. His gaze flicked upward. Wallace. Fucking great.

  “Should have known you weren’t able to do your damn job.” A wad of spit hit the dirt less than an inch from Brandr’s nose. “I know you are immortal, but what happens if they can’t find your head to put it back on?”

  The glimmer of malice in Wallace’s eyes had Brandr wishing like hell that he could tell the man off. But with his head severed from his body, Brandr didn’t have the vocal chords to speak. To him, this was the worst of all the injuries.

  Just as Wallace pulled one foot back as if to kick Brandr’s head, the barbed end of a tail from one of the pet’s jabbed through Wallace’s chest, pushing out his still beating heart.

  Was it wrong to cheer a little in his head? The doctor in him would say yes, but in this moment, his Viking side was grinning like an idiot. Bastard deserved what he got.

  Then the pet that had ki
lled Wallace exploded. Another pair of feet appeared. Brandr looked up to find the woman who mentioned Logan.

  “When Logan wakes up and finds you, tell him we did what we promised but we’re not sticking around any longer.” Then she turned and walked away. Brandr had no idea who was with her when she said ‘we’. That was just one of the things that sucked about being beheaded. Brandr couldn’t move.

  All he could do was to lay there and hope someone would come along and put him back together again so his body would heal.

  CHAPTER 2

  There had to be at least four sets of little fingers poking at Logan in different places as his brain tried its best to wake up. That wasn’t as easy as it should have been though. What he wasn’t sure of, was why?

  “Kids, leave Logan alone,” Ruth said with a soft clap of her hands to let them know she meant business. “It’s okay child,” her voice said gently as her hand touched his shoulder lightly. “Get some rest. I can feel the Veil is closed. We should be safe, for now.”

  The Veil.

  Using a lot of effort, Logan forced himself to open his eyes and glance around the bomb shelter they had discovered a week ago. No one had been sure if it would hide them from the Fae, but after pretty much everyone in their group had been badly injured the last time they’d encountered the Fae, it had been their only option.

  Run or hide. That had been what they’d been doing for… well, Logan had joined the ragtag group nearly a year ago and they’d already been running for the better part of six months by then. They usually chose to run, but sometimes they just weren’t fast enough.

  Three weeks ago, that had been the case when the Veil suddenly opened. They been completely caught off guard. Of the fifty druids that had been traveling together, only forty survived the attack. Barely.