Shatter - Sins of the Sidhe

by Briana Michaels

Rowan winced when she saw Brinley’s bloodied lip and swollen teary eyes. She’d done that. In anger of everything that happened, and fear for her friend’s safety, she’d hurt her in more ways than one. “Brin, I’m so sorry.”

  Ro tried to hold her arm, but the blonde tigress would have none of it. As far as she was concerned, Rowan can take her apology and shove it up her ass. She had to get her stuff from the stone cottage. The faster she got out of here, the better. Too stubborn to ask for a lift back home the way they’d brought her, Brinley was going to make flight arrangements instead. Her backpack was stuffed and loaded for whatever emergency might come about, including stain remover, extra makeup, a sewing kit, and mace. She also carried her passport and a variety of credit cards. You just never know what you might need; it’s good to be prepared.

  Brinley pushed past the woman who was once her friend, and grabbed the keys to Adam’s car. Someone else can go retrieve the damn thing when she was done with it. She was too pissed to care about courtesy now. Brinley’s washed her hands of the lot of them.

  “Brinley!” Ro yelled after her. But her shouts fell on deaf ears. With a painful heart, knowing this act would keep her best friend safe, Rowan let her go.

  Accepting defeat, Rowan watched as a stoic Brinley got into Adam’s car and tore off down the road. No goodbyes, catch ya laters, or call me soons. It was for the best though, right? Repeating that pathetic mantra, Rowan turned towards the living room and went back over to the huge book of Adam’s again. Maybe it was all the drama, hormones, or just plain old pissiness, but Rowan felt like hitting something hard. She wanted a fight. It was time to make a list, check it twice, and defeat that son-of-a-bitch Lorcan.

  No one said a word about Brinley and Rowan’s situation. There was nothing to say about it. What happened, happened. In truth, Adam was relieved the distraction had been eliminated – he felt stronger for it. Thoughts of Brinley racing through his head when he had a battle to fight was only going to get him killed – and the woman ensnared his senses too easily.

  Sidhes do not crumble for humans. They make the humans crumble.

  Adam took a seat in the leather chair and poured a healthy amount of whiskey into a glass. They were all back to business as usual.

  Rowan was sitting in his big chair behind the huge desk hunched over to examine the picture in the book. “So, let me get this straight. If this thing in the book, the Death Bringer, created the Wild Hunt and then lost control of it, where is the Wild Hunt now?”

  “It comes and goes as it pleases, lass.”

  Huh, well that’s helpful. NOT. Rowan was getting frustrated already and it’s only been thirty seconds into this chat. She needed to do better. Taking a hold of her fear and anxiety from recent events, Rowan blurted out the loudest question in her head.

  “Is Lorcan the Devil?”

  There. She’d let out the words that had rooted a deep seed of fear in her mind since she saw him. He may not have looked like the Devil, but he sure did act like him.

  “No, my dear. He is not.” Adam gave a hint of a smile.

  Ro let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding; although, the fact that he wasn’t the Devil didn’t really matter all that much. The bastard was still evil, powerful and scary as Hell.

  Adam took another sip from his glass and tried to explain the rules of the worlds to her. “The Devil knows his place, just as the Gods do. There is no need to fight over who gets what. A person has free will, their decisions and actions speak for themselves. When you die, you already know which way you are going: Up or Down. Those that stay in the in-between are there because they have unfinished business. They will, in theory, complete their task and then move forward to the next place. Good doers seek the light; the others seek the pits of darkness. No soul tries to run from their destination, they’ve known where they were going all along and look forward to the trip.”

  Adam’s words made a lot of sense really. Rowan thought about the look on Abaigael’s face as she smiled and vanished. There was no argument where that sweet child had gone. It made Rowan feel relieved to know that Heaven really did exist. But so did other places.

  Rowan rubbed her eyes hard enough to see stars, and then mustered up the courage for her next words. “I better tell you what I saw in that place.”

  Not wanting to push the subject, Devlin hadn’t asked her about it. For truth, he was eager to know, but feared the tale as well. Whatever details Rowan could share, would bring them one step closer to facing Lorcan. The Druid’s hand itched to hold the sword he’d put away so long ago. Devlin was, by nature, a gentle creature. But there was another side of him that lashed out at the first threat of danger. It was a more ruthless and cruel side…. and it wasn’t pretty. But, then again, it wasn’t meant to be.

  “Tell us, lass. Please,” he encouraged.

  Rowan looked around and then grabbed her pendant and started tugging the thing back and forth, back and forth. She was already nervous. Reliving the scenes in her head made her angry and also hungry for something that was undeniably harsh to admit: The woman felt heated.

  Not hot and sweaty heated- the other more dirty kind of heat. The fact that someone, or something, could make her feel that way against her wishes was infuriating. Her face flushed and she shook her head to erase the thought. What the hell was wrong with her? The pull Lorcan had on Rowan was undeniable and only pushed her anger into darker territory. She’d rather die than let him make her feel those urges again.

  “I was in a house. One I have been in before… in other dreams. But this time, no one else was there when I walked up to it. I went through the house and followed a voice that told me to go to the attic. I knew better than to touch anything, but it was hard because there was junk piled and thrown around everywhere. There was a mirror in the far corner. It was huge and beautiful. That’s when I saw it.”

  She looked into the fire crackling away warming the living room on such a blustery chilly day. Then she looked at Adam while she continued. “There was a boy in the mirror. But he was all grey, not in color like an apparition might be, and not a black shadow like the others I see all the time. He was asking for my help, to save them. And then…” Ro broke off her sentence as the memory washed over her.

  Lorcan’s boots thumping across the floor, echoing in her ears.

  “And then what, love?” Ava looked like a worried mother. Easing the tension in her eyebrows, Ava changed her expression to an encouraging one.

  Rowan looked away from them and stared back to the fire. “Then he was there. Lorcan. Big, tall, powerful. Wings like a massive black bird, they almost dragged on the floor. He didn’t touch me. I don’t think he could. He was there, but not there, you know? Like I could almost see him in color, but he was sort of transparent. It’s hard to explain. He said my name and that was all it took for me to lose my self-control. It was horrible. I did nothing. I couldn’t. My mind was a frazzled mess, but the rest of me wouldn’t budge. I was all out of sync. Then heeding his commands, I crawled on my hands and knees into the mirror after him.”

  She looked up at each of their faces. One mad, one sad, one stone. She cleared her throat. Was the air thick in here? It was getting hard to breathe. Rowan figured she might as well keep going with her story. There was no stopping this train once it left the station.

  “I was in a big cavern or hole or something. Everything was dark and it was hard to see. The mirror we stepped out of was on the side of this big room. Flames were everywhere. Souls were locked in cages and their screams would make your ear drums bust. Creepy crawlies and demons slipped across the floors and up the walls. Shadows were swirling around and things went flying in the air. It was horrific. They seemed to obey Lorcan, but I think most of them were afraid. I can’t explain it; emotions I felt were raw and torn. It was like they knew if they didn’t bow down to him, they would be punished or hurt in some way.”

  Time for another swig of whiskey to muster some serious courage fo
r this next part. Rowan stared at the floor while she continued, “He brought me to his bed. There was a mirror on the ceiling, chains on the headboard, and the whole room was surrounded in a blaze. He, uh, made me do things… to myself… and watched.”

  A hiss spat out of Devlin’s mouth. He got up with some force and his large body slid the sofa back two feet. He walked over to the fire mantle and stared into the blaze, his back facing the room.

  Rowan was ashamed. And seeing Devlin’s reaction made her feel worse. Her actions may not have been controllable by her, but they were her actions all the same. Ava gave Rowan a small nod that implied not to worry and Adam didn’t say a thing. Stone-faced and serious, that was Adam.

  Ro continued, “The harder I fought, the weaker I got. After a while, some weird looking demon things came into the room. They were all boney and leathery and smelled awful. They hopped up on the bed and pulled me up by my arms. Their hands stung and burned me, which only made it more enjoyable for them I think.”

  Devlin was now raking his hands through his long hair and then held onto the mantle for dear life. He’d not be able to listen to much more, she could tell.

  “I uh, got better control of myself once he left the room. One of the demons said something about a new collection of souls. Lorcan was eager and happy about whatever it was. He left and the demons followed him out, leaving me alone on the bed.”

  Zip-zip went her pendant as she played with it while she thought of what happened next.

  “A boy, the same one who’d been in the attic mirror, got my attention from the other side of the flames barring the door. I managed to get off the bed and over to where he was. He helped me escape. The fires didn’t burn me, even though I was in the middle of them. It was strange and surreal. When I got to the other side of the fires, there was a hoard of crazy, scary looking creatures huddled all around me. Some looked at me, some didn’t. They were noisy and frightening. The boy, his name was Seamus, pushed me back through the mirror and I was back in the attic again. Then I woke up.”

  A loud bang and crack ricocheted in the living room. Devlin, in trying to keep his temper under control, had ripped the mantle from the wall and smashed it on the floor. He roared like a beast and was at Rowan in three fierce strides. He was crazed. Taking her face in his strong, trembling hands, he crushed his lips to hers. Hearing her tale, he’d turned animal. Possessive. Protective. Primal.

  Rowan started falling backwards from the force of him and she slammed into the bookcase behind her. She didn’t know what to do with this much tension rolling off of the man, so she followed her instincts and let him take control of her.

  “Mine,” she heard him say, but his lips were locked on hers. Rowan ran her fingers through his hair and down his back. “MINE,” she heard him say again in her head.

  “Yours,” she thought back.

  Devlin paused. Did he hear that? Nay, ‘twas just his imagination. His desperation for claiming her had let his mind run wild. For truth, she did not know how to speak in his mind that way. He opened his eyes and was almost blinded by the intensity of her stare. Green emeralds burned into his very soul. Aye, this woman was his and no others.

  “Yours,” he heard her say out loud.

  Rowan’s affirmation made clear by laying her hands on his face and bringing him closer to her. Their foreheads touched, they were nose to nose, and her eyes burned like green fire. He pushed harder into her body and growled. Trembling from the need to mark her, reclaim her, and quench his thirst for her taste, he was having a hard time easing off of her. It took him a few heartbeats to gain control of his emotions, and then he relaxed his hold on her and righted himself once more.

  Straightening her hair and fixing her shirt, Rowan tried her best to look like that didn’t just happen. Ava smiled like she enjoyed the scene and that was enough to turn Rowan’s face a warm shade of crimson. Some of the books had fallen to the floor, but no one bothered to pick them up.

  Stone-face on the other hand, was the one to speak next.

  “I believe Lorcan is using the energies from the souls to gain power. That’s why he’s snatching them. It’s the only thing that makes sense about how he’s gained so much. But I can’t help but think he’s got something else.” Thinking it over once more, Adam looked back up at Ro, “How many spirits do you think were in there, Rowan?”

  “Thousands,” was her reply.

  This was bad news indeed. Snatching the souls for this purpose made a rift in the natural order of things. But Adam couldn’t ignore the idea that Lorcan had something else that was giving him such power. Aye, the souls’ energy would help him survive throughout the ages, but Rowan said she could almost see him in true Sidhe form. He had mind control over her that was for certain. A talent all Fae possess to some extent; but Lorcan was stripped of the gift when he was cast out of the Faelands. Lorcan must have some other weapon in his arsenal, but what, Adam couldn’t imagine.

  Morrigan was right: this was a going to be a serious battle, one that Rowan was going to be at the forefront of. Lorcan had to be stopped. They had to find where he was hiding. This was going to call for some serious magic. Adam feared it would be the most powerful and costly kind.

  “My dear, you need to learn how to block out others from your mind. We cannot risk you being controlled again. It may have been for Lorcan’s own pleasure last time, but Fae take pleasure in other things as well. He can use you to harm yourself. And others.” Adam flicked a glance to Devlin who was standing next to Rowan leaning back against the large desk, arms folded across his broad chest.

  “I would never hurt anyone,” offended, Rowan smacked her fist down on her leg with a quick slap!

  “Aye my dear, and I’m sure three days ago you would have said you’d never get naked and have a go at yourself in front of an audience either.”

  His words stung. The truth had a nasty habit of stinging and cutting. Rowan was speechless while she played it all over in her head for the thousandth time. Accepting it as fact, not insult, Rowan said the two words that are so hard for her to say, “You’re right.”

  “You need to learn how to filter, open, and block your mind.” Adam got up and walked over to Devlin. “She’s got to do this brother, or we don’t stand a chance. The sooner the better.”

  Devlin agreed with a short nod and then grabbed Rowan’s hands, swinging her around to face him. He was never going to have her in such a vulnerable position again. He’d made that vow to himself already. Reliving her tale in his head and knowing how easy it was for Lorcan to take over her mind was still a crushing blow to his heart and pride. Mine. Imagining the wee sprite causing harm to herself or someone else was a thought no man wanted to have. ‘Tis a scary and painful possibility though.

  “Aye lass,” Devlin’s face turned to stone, “let’s get started.”

  Chapter 21

  This training was the loudest silence Rowan had ever known. It took days of relentless practicing for her to master it. She didn’t give up though, no matter how infuriating or tiring it got. Determined to succeed, Rowan was finally able to connect her mind to Devlin’s for a span of two seconds before it would disappear again. It started out slowly, flashes of thoughts and whispers. It was a decent start, but small things would distract and break her concentration.

  “Damnit!” She fussed, losing his voice in her head.

  A roll of thunder echoed outside and it was enough to make her lose contact. Again. It had been raining for five straight days, and it was beginning to make Rowan feel some major cabin fever, which translated to serious sexual tension, for which she couldn’t give into until she mastered what she was learning. It was torture.

  “Again,” Devlin commanded.

  It was a true test of his patience. The wee woman was so hell bent on concentrating; she screwed her own self up half the time. Running out of things to say in his head, he was now reading The Complete Stories and Poems of Edgar Allan Poe. This was beyond frustrating
. But he had to remember, he’s had centuries of practice, and she had just started. Keeping up the grueling pace of her training, they needed to master this skill before moving on to the next. Neither of them were getting much sleep or doing anything else for that matter. Och, twas torture.

  Finally, after working on it for hour after hour, day after day, Rowan finally felt the connection snap into place. It was like a switch flicked in her head – kind of like turning on a breaker to a fuse. And just like that, she could hear him reciting “The Raven” in her head.

  Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing,

  Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before…

  “Ahh! I hear you! The Raven! You’re reading the Raven!” Jumping up and down with pride and excitement, Rowan jumped into his lap, tossed the book onto the floor and kissed him. He wanted more, but she wiggled out of his grip. No pleasure, this was business.

  Grumbling his disappointment, he was forced to agree. Damn the woman, even in her jeans and t-shirt she was a vision from the Gods – sugar and spice, fire and ice. Her determination made her all the more alluring. And equally frustrating. Ballocks! He needed to fix his pants again; his throbbing shaft had become a serious distraction all to itself as of late. Devlin let out a low grumble.