by Jocelyn Fox
“Got her,” affirmed Duke, his weapon still pointed surely at her head.
“Aren’t you going to even ask a girl’s name when you’ve got your hand down her shirt?” asked the woman. Ross just rolled her eyes as she searched the woman’s torso for any more chains or spell orbs; she found a short dagger in a rib sheath and a strange little leather pouch, but no more spells.
“What’s your name?” asked Merrick, staring down at the white-haired Sidhe.
“So polite. Too bad you’d make a nice meal.” The woman tilted her head. “Corsica. That’s Tyr.” She motioned with her chin toward the limp man.
“All right, I think that’s all her weapons,” said Ross. Luca retrieved Corsica’s cloak and carefully moved all the chains and spell-orbs onto it. Vivian contributed the chain that had been laid on Merrick’s neck. After relieving Tyr of his various blades and another spell orb tied with a thin strip of black leather, Luca wrapped it all into a neat bundle.
“Now that you’ve defanged me, must you point that at me still?” asked Corsica, looking up at Duke and his gun.
“We still gotta figure some things out, sweetheart,” Duke replied. “So do yourself a favor and stay put.”
Ross carefully stood and backed away. Her body ached. She pushed the discomfort aside and adjusted her grip on the Glock, looking at Luca. “What’s next?”
Luca looked at Merrick. “She is one of your people.”
Merrick swayed. Vivian inserted herself under his shoulder. “I didn’t think the stories were true,” he said.
“Oh, we’re bedtime stories now, eh?” said Corsica. She sighed. “I suppose there are worse things.”
“Worse things like being vampires?” Vivian asked sharply.
Corsica laughed delightedly. “Oh, my dear girl, you are sharp.” Her nostrils flared as she sniffed the air. “I thought the South Sea girl was the one that smelled of the Old World, but it’s you.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” said Vivian. The dawn light blooming through the trees made the blood on the side of her face luridly dark. She made no move to wipe it away, and it trickled in a thin line over her cheekbone.
“Bedtime stories in both worlds, how about that, hmmm, Tyr?” said Corsica, though Tyr hadn’t stirred. Ross wondered just how hard Luca had hit him with the flat of his axe. The burgeoning light caught the silver rings bristling from Corsica’s ears and transformed her silver hair into a glowing nimbus spread behind her head. Even with the scars dappling her face, Corsica was still ethereal.
“We should move them,” said Luca, scanning their surroundings.
“He’ll be here soon, I think.” Corsica grinned.
“The bone sorcerer?” Vivian asked.
“Yes,” the Exiled replied. Her eyes went half-lidded. “We were the first to arrive, you know. I think others will have felt it. First him coming through, and then you, and then her.”
“Her?” repeated Luca.
“Don’t be coy,” said Corsica. She licked her lips. “I can hear your heart thumping faster at the mention of her.”
“What’s with the blood thing? Are they really vampires? We need to get moving with this plan, whatever it is,” said Duke. “I don’t like sitting out here in front of the house.”
“You and me both,” Ross muttered.
“Perhaps I was not thinking ahead enough,” said Corsica softly, tilting her head to the side. “So long since we had a good meal, perhaps hunger was making me hasty…”
“This is making my head hurt,” said Ross. “Merrick, please explain it to us.”
“From what I think I understand,” said Merrick slowly, “they somehow survive by taking blood. By drinking blood.” A faint trace of disgust colored his voice.
“Corruption is the price of survival,” said Corsica. “We had to…improvise.”
“So you are vampires,” Vivian mused.
“Those silly fanged creatures that can’t stand the light of day?” Corsica snorted. “Hardly.” She shifted her shoulders and crossed her legs as if she were lounging in bed rather than lying in the grass with a gun pointed at her head. “It’s gotten harder throughout the centuries. The dreamers taste the best.”
“Taebramh,” Merrick said. “You’ve been…taking the taebramh of mortals through their blood.”
“Clever boy.” Corsica grinned.
“All right, this is all very informative, but we need to make a decision,” Ross said. “What are we doing with these two?”
“I think they’ll jump us the first chance they get,” said Duke.
“What about the ‘gruesome revenge?’” asked Vivian, craning her neck to look at Merrick.
“Revenge is a lofty goal, but I’d settle for a good meal,” said Corsica. “Tyr, too, though he won’t tell you that himself.” Her vivid eyes traced the patterns of the clouds in the sky, backlit now by the sunrise. She stared up into the sky for a moment and then shifted her gaze to Merrick. “What are you going to do with the dark mage, hm? He’s going to use you as bait, you know. For her.”
Merrick stared down at Corsica, his haggard face unreadable. “Let’s bring them inside.”
Something flickered in Corsica’s eyes. Ross frowned. After centuries of fighting to survive in the mortal world as outcasts, could the Exiled be made allies by a slight gesture of mercy? Were their souls so starved that empathy would restore them, or were they so far gone that they would still plot the death of Merrick and, perhaps, all of them?
Luca sank to his haunches near Corsica, one hand still gripping his axe. Her eyes traveled over his muscled body appraisingly, but his face was grim, his blue eyes icy. “If either of you lift a hand against any of my companions, I will kill you.”
Corsica watched him intently for a long moment, a cunning intelligence surfacing in her calculating gaze. “I believe you,” she murmured. “Ulfdrengr,” she added, a crooked smile pulling up one side of her mouth. In that instant, she looked almost human, the memory of some long past experience softening the taut planes of her body.
Luca nodded gravely. “Yes. So you know that my word is my bond.”
Corsica didn’t reply. Luca stood and took a step back, gesturing for her to stand as well. Duke still kept a watchful eye on her, but he lowered his Beretta to an alert position rather than directly pointing it at Corsica. The Exiled woman slid to her knees and then silently offered her wrists, bowing her head. The motion looked natural, and she held carefully still, waiting.
“We will not bind you,” said Luca gruffly.
Corsica raised her head warily, her eyes darting between Luca, Merrick and Ross as though she expected someone to counter Luca’s statement. After a moment she lowered her hands and stood, still looking between all of them guardedly.
“Take security,” Duke said to Ross. “I’ll get the other one.”
Ross nodded, widening her stance slightly and focusing her attention on Corsica. Mayhem’s ears swiveled forward and the dog stood at Ross’ side. Duke pulled the unconscious Tyr onto his shoulders, hefting him once to settle the weight properly. Corsica watched but said nothing.
“Come on,” Duke said, trudging past them. “Let’s go inside before we get any more nasty surprises.” He looped his left arm around Tyr’s leg and grasped the unconscious man’s arm, freeing his right hand to wield the Beretta without any interference. Vivian and Merrick followed him.
“You next,” said Ross to Corsica, expecting some slightly unhinged grin or comment in reply, but Corsica mutely followed them toward the porch of the house. Ross trailed a step behind her. Mayhem circled back and trotted alongside Luca. Ross glanced over at the smoking wreck of her truck. The flames from the explosion seemed to have some sort of time expiration, thankfully. “I still don’t understand why you blew up my truck,” she muttered.
“To distract you so we could attack,” replied Corsica bluntly. Then she grinned a little. “And I’ve never blown up a truck before. I thought it would be fun.”
�
�Yeah, well, you’re not the one who has to figure out how to explain it to the insurance company,” Ross retorted as they reached the porch steps. How in the world was she supposed to fill out that insurance claim? Did magical spells count as an ‘act of God?’ She’d always thought that little clause was archaic and ridiculous but now she wasn’t so sure.
Vivian held the screen door open for Merrick and then it banged shut behind her. Corsica reached unconcernedly for the wrought-iron handle, opening the door without so much as a flinch. Ross followed her quickly, feeling the frown crease her forehead. She wasn’t an expert on the effect of iron on Fae, but she thought that even with gloves, Merrick would have avoided gripping the iron handle. Luca shut the door behind them. The sound of the deadbolt clicking home wasn’t much of a comfort.
Vivian had already rolled the living room rug into a corner and spread a blanket on the wood floor. Ross smiled a little. Trust Vivian to adapt quickly to the appearance of the Exiled while still managing to keep their little house free of bloodstains on the carpets. Duke squatted and carefully slid Tyr from his shoulders. Without prompting, Corsica sat cross-legged by Tyr. His hair was as silver as hers, cut in a sort of shaggy, puckish way.
Merrick settled onto the couch. Vivian stood in the corner of the room, crossing her arms over her chest. Luca slid his axe back into its loop on his belt.
“I can take a look at your shoulder and arm,” said Duke to Corsica. “I’m a medic. A…healer.”
“I know what a medic is,” she replied without taking her eyes from Tyr. “The bullet passed straight through the muscle. And our flesh is resilient. The dog’s bite didn’t do much damage.”
“I could at least clean them,” said Duke.
Corsica looked at him sharply, narrowing her eyes. “What do you care? I’m no friend of yours.”
Duke shrugged. “Fine. Have it your way.”
“You said the bone sorcerer was on his way here,” prompted Merrick.
“You said you’d give us a good meal,” countered Corsica, licking her lips. She kept glancing at the windows and the door, as if checking to make sure that the exits to the room still existed.
Merrick looked at Corsica for a long moment. “You don’t use blood magic? Giving you my blood won’t give you a hold over me?”
“You can’t be serious,” said Vivian. “You’re not strong enough to give her any of your blood.”
“I’ll determine what I’m strong enough to do,” Merrick replied, a bit sharply. Vivian looked away and Merrick sighed wearily, shifting his focus back to Corsica.
“No,” Corsica said, staring hungrily at Merrick. “No, we just use the blood to survive. Not for sorcery. Not for a while, at least. We’ve barely been scraping by, these past years. We didn’t have the runes and we were bound and banished.”
Luca touched his axe. “Give your word that you won’t use our blood against us.”
Corsica laughed. “What good is my word, Northman? I am one of the forsaken. Our bond has been broken all these centuries. We were bound by iron and banished.” Anger blazed up in her eyes again, extinguished just as quickly by a lost expression. “Bound and banished to wander in the darkness.”
“I am not Sidhe,” said Luca almost gently. “I am ulfdrengr and I am Vyldgard, as he is. And I will take you at your word.”
“Such grand gestures,” said Corsica with a hint of a sneer in her voice. She looked away and spoke to herself again. “Only time will tell if they are friends. Only time will tell.”
“Give us your word,” Luca repeated.
“You have it,” Corsica replied. “For what it’s worth,” she added to herself.
Ross shook her head. “I don’t like this.”
“Smart girl,” said Corsica with a grin. “Calculating and cold, yes, you’re a smart one too. Why give something for nothing when that’s not the way of the world? Mercy met with betrayal, that’s the usual script, isn’t it?” She tilted her head. “You’re trying to catch him, aren’t you? With that little runetrap in the back of the house.”
Merrick leaned forward. “Yes.” He rolled up one of his sleeves.
Corsica stared at his pale forearm, her eyes tracing the blue veins beneath his skin. Ross’s skin crawled at the hunger written across her face. “It won’t hold him. He’ll just laugh,” Corisca said without taking her eyes off of Merrick’s pale arm.
“And how exactly do you know that? It’s not as though there’ve been bone sorcerers running amuck in the mortal world before,” Ross said acidly.
“Skeptical, skeptical,” said Corsica in a chiding voice. “Not a bone sorcerer, no, but we have hunted other things. Other beings. Some from this world, some from the next, some from none at all.” One of her black-gloved hands sketched an arc through the air. “Traps require certain things. You have the right idea, yes, a good foundation, but not enough.” She shook her head.
“I give you my blood, you tell us how to fix the trap for the bone sorcerer so that it will hold him,” said Merrick firmly.
Vivian pressed her lips together unhappily but said nothing.
“What will you do with him when he is caught in your little web?” asked Corsica, cocking her head to the side.
“Kill him,” replied Luca simply.
“Perhaps…perhaps you would allow me to talk to him first,” said the Sidhe woman with a strange note of pleading in her voice.
“Why?” asked Ross suspiciously.
“It is maybe a chance for us to come closer to what we once were,” said Corsica. She glanced at Merrick’s arm again and licked her lips. “It is not easy.”
Ross raised her eyebrows. “Sounds like you made the choice to become what you are.”
“Would you choose to live or die?” replied Corsica with a mad glint in her eyes. She looked Ross up and down. Ross shifted uncomfortably; she felt like Corsica was peering past her skin, into her soul. “You chose to live. You chose to kill. Are you a monster, same as me?”
“Maybe,” Ross replied calmly. “But I fight against it every day. I try to help people now.”
“Recompense for your deeds?” suggested Corsica, arching a pale eyebrow.
Ross clenched her jaw and tried not to let the words bother her, but they stung…because they were true. She looked away.
“Perhaps now we will…help…too,” said Corsica. She looked down at Tyr and then nodded. “Yes. We will help.”
Merrick drew one of his small daggers from its sheath.
Vivian paled. “I can’t watch this,” she said to Ross. “Make sure she doesn’t kill him.”
As Vivian strode from the room, Corsica called after her, “I like the quote on your shirt! Tolkien is one of my favorites.” She grinned her sharp-toothed grin as Vivian told her, in some choice words, what she could do with her opinion.
“Improvements to the runetrap, and no sorcery with my blood,” said Merrick, holding the blade over his skin.
Corsica nodded. “Yes, yes, I’ll be good.” She slunk toward Merrick on her hands and knees, clambering over Tyr’s prone form, her eyes fixed on the throb of Merrick’s pulse in his wrist.
“Are you all right with this?” Duke asked Luca.
“It’s not my choice to make,” the ulfdrengr said in a low voice. He moved forward and stood within easy reach of Corsica and Merrick.
“If he goes unconscious, you stop,” Duke said firmly to Corsica. “If you don’t stop, I’m gonna pry you off. And if I can’t pry you off, I’ll shoot you.”
Corsica nodded, kneeling in front of Merrick like a supplicant. Merrick took a deep breath and sliced through his skin with the dagger. His blood welled up dark as ink, and Corsica seized his arm, her tongue darting out between her pointed teeth to catch the first drops before they fell. She lapped like a cat at first, and then pressed her mouth to the wound. Merrick sucked in his breath.
Ross felt sick but she swallowed hard and stood her ground. At least Vivian hadn’t offered her blood this time. Merrick leaned back, sweat stand
ing out on his forehead. Duke stepped closer, putting a hand on Merrick’s shoulder and talking to him in a low voice. Merrick nodded. Corsica pressed her body against Merrick’s legs, leaning over his lap as she drank his blood.
Duke stepped over Tyr and quickly retrieved a packet of gauze from the first aid kit. Merrick closed his eyes, his skin pale as bone. Corsica hummed in pleasure, her throat working as she swallowed.
“All right, that’s enough,” Duke said as Merrick began to slide sideways. He steadied the Vyldgard Sidhe and expertly gripped Merrick’s arm just above the elbow, putting pressure on the veins and arteries supplying Corsica with blood. “Enough,” he repeated tersely. To Ross’s surprise, Corsica drew back, panting and licking the blood from her lips. Duke quickly bandaged the cut on Merrick’s forearm. The navigator’s eyes fluttered open again.
“That was…unpleasant,” he said hoarsely.
Corsica rolled onto her back, part of her body draped over Tyr. She closed her eyes, chest heaving, a dreamy smile on her face. Ross looked at Merrick and then down at Corsica, still licking her bloodstained mouth, and she wondered what kind of deal they had just struck with these Exiles from the Fae world.
Chapter 26
“Tess, wait!” Calliea leapt out of the trailer, the door banging shut behind her. “Niall says that he thinks Luca and Merrick have already laid a trap for the bone sorcerer. From what he can see, anyway.” She glanced at Tess’s rolled sleeves and the bright burn of her war markings. “What’s your plan?”
“Light myself up and make me the target instead of the girl,” said Tess. It sounded too simple. She took a deep breath and thought quickly.
“But if you send up a flare here, what good is that going to do? We’re just going to confront the bone sorcerer here?” Calliea eyed the trailer and the surrounding grassy land skeptically.
“We came here to kill the bone sorcerer and retrieve the Lethe Stone,” Tess replied. “That’s about as basic a plan as I can come up with.” Her war markings pulsed a little brighter, looking like rivulets of emerald fire sliding over her skin. “Do you have a better idea?”
