by Anna Hill
“She’s gone,” Maverick moved swiftly over to Faolan and delicately lifted her off the floor. “Aillil, grab Etain and follow me--now! Fina, find the boys.” Without checking to see if they’d followed his barked orders, Maverick strode down the side hallway toward the living room. Once inside, he gently lowered Faolan onto one of the couches. A stab of pain pierced his chest as he gazed down at her. She was, by far, the strongest Truaillithe he’d ever met. To see her like this, so frail and broken, tore at his heart.
“What did you do to Rebecca?” Liam placed Etain on the other couch and stood tall behind Maverick, a venomous scowl returning to his face. “I have to find her immediately.”
Maverick turned to face him, angrily shoving his finger into Liam chest, “You had your chance and failed. I will be the one to go after her. I will be the one to bring her home. And I will be the one who fixes her!”
Enraged, Liam prepared to snap back at Maverick, when a soft voice stopped him.
“Emily…”
Stunned, both boys stared in shock at where Faolan lie. Her eyes were just barely open and her white face was twisted in immense pain, but she was trying to speak.
“Emily… You need…to find…”
“Stop speaking,” Maverick insisted as he dropped down to her side, taking hold of her closest hand. “You need to rest. You’re badly hurt.”
“Emily…she’s the only one…who can help Rebecca…”
“Emily?” Liam inquired. “Who in the world is Emily?”
“She’s Rebecca’s friend, her best friend, from back home,” Maverick explained hurriedly. “But I don’t see how--”
“Rebecca needs to know…she’s loved. She needs…someone she trusts,” Faolan winced suddenly, her entire body contracting as extreme pain pulsated inside her skull.
“Don’t speak,” Liam ordered. “You’ve had a severe concussion.” He turned his attention to Maverick, “She’ll need to be kept awake and monitored constantly while we’re gone. If she falls asleep--”
“Excuse me?” Maverick stood up straight, his face a mixture of anger and bewilderment. “And where might we be going?”
“To get Emily, and then find Rebecca,” Liam stated very matter-of-factly. As much as he loathed Maverick, Liam knew that he could only find Emily with his help.
“Did you not hear me before? There isn’t a chance in hell I’m bringing you with me!”
“Then, you’ll never find Rebecca.”
“And what makes you so sure you can find Rebecca?”
“She told me where she’s going.”
Maverick’s scowl faltered, jealousy and sadness pulling at his heart. “How can you be--”
“She came to me and told me about a place she’d dreamt of. I know where it is and I can take you there.”
Maverick skeptically considered Liam’s proposal. He couldn’t imagine anything worse than being forced to spend time alone with the traitor Aillil--but, as much as he hated to admit it, he might need the jerk’s help. After seeing Rebecca lose control and the immense power she possessed, he knew that saving her would require all the help he could get.
“Holy shit!” Aeden burst into the room and rushed over to Faolan. “Are you OK?” Then, immediately, he turned his attention back to where Maverick and Liam stood, his face stricken with terror. “The Aillil, they found us?”
“No, it was--” Liam began but was cut off by Maverick, who raised an agitated hand as he waited for the of the crew to enter the room.
“Liam and I are leaving for a while. I don’t know how long we’ll be gone. Owen, I’m putting you in charge of the crew. If something happens to us while we’re gone, I’m trusting you to keep everyone safe.”
“What do you mean ‘if something happens to you’?” Owen was bewildered, struggling to take in both the scene around him and Maverick’s words. “What happened here? How were they hurt? Why is Etain here? Where’s Rebecca?”
“I can’t explain right now. I’m sorry. I just need you to trust me,” Maverick implored.
Owen maintained Maverick’s stare, confusion and anger clearly painted on his face. Finally, he shook his head, conceding, and tore his resentful eyes away. Silently, he shuffled over to check on Etain.
Maverick turned to face Liam, an indignant glint in his eyes, “Pack what you need. We leave in fifteen.” He exited the room in haste, not waiting for a response.
Liam inhaled deeply, pushing away his fury as he addressed the crew. “Please, for Rebecca’s sake, make sure these two fully recover,” he beseeched before lowering his gaze to Trysten.
His younger brother stared up at him, puzzled and afraid. “What’s going to happen? Do you have to leave?”
“Yes, but we’ll see each other again soon.”
Trysten nodded and then hung his head, unable to speak, his body visibly trembling. Liam was the first and only family he’d ever known. The thought of losing his brother--
Abruptly, Liam stepped forward and bent down, pulling his little brother into a tight embrace. It was a show of affection neither was accustomed to, and yet both greatly needed. Liam could feel Trysten’s little heart beating rapidly, hear his shaking breaths, and feel the pressure of his small, tightly wrapped arms. “I promise, I’ll come back to you,” Liam whispered as he squeezed Trysten softly.
Pulling away, Liam stood resolute, collecting himself. He nodded tersely at the crew, then pivoted and left the room. There was no time to waste. They needed to save Rebecca…before it was too late.
Chapter Twenty-Two
The Commander stood erect, wiping the dirt off of her trousers as a way to distract from her trembling hands. They’d visited six circles so far, and each had been tampered with. There wasn’t even a trace of a Feiceann stone. This could mean that the horrid stones had never existed, or that the Truaillithe bastard already had one…or more.
Inhaling slowly to quiet her pounding heartbeat, she turned to address the young general who waited behind her, “General Killian, a report from your soldiers?”
“The area is secure,” Killian snapped to attention. “We’ve spotted only one set of tracks in the surrounding forest, very faint, probably over a month old. They enter the area and then leave following the same trajectory, most likely the perpetrator.”
“No other tracks? No one else has been to this circle?” Neala interrogated.
“No, Commander. That’s all we found.”
“Good.” She relaxed slightly. It was possible she wasn’t being followed yet. She might still have time to fix this before it was too late. “Select a soldier from your team and post him in the surrounding woods. Gather the rest and bring them here. We depart for the next circle in ten.” Turning away, Neala momentarily closed her eyes as she marshaled her thoughts.
“Commander?” Killian inquired hesitantly.
Neala reopened her eyes and turned back around, training a heated glare upon the aggravating general. She was tired of his constant questioning of her commands and decisions. He was her subordinate, and he was forgetting to act as such.
“What?” she retorted irritably.
“We’ve left one of my soldiers at every circle thus far and I don’t understand why. Our force was already small to start with and if we run into any trouble, I fear our dwindling team won’t be equipped to defend ourselves.”
“Who are you to question my orders?” she barked at the ingrate, her weeks of suppressed anxiety and rage boiling to the surface. “If I tell you to leave a soldier behind, you leave a soldier behind! If I tell you to hang yourself from that tree, you better hang yourself from that damn tree! Do you understand me?” She advanced upon the young general until they stood only inches apart.
Recoiling from her livid stare, Killian’s hesitantly nodded. “Yes, Commander. I only meant that--”
Neala swiftly raised a hand, sending a vine shooting up from the soil at their feet. With a flick of her wrist, it wrapped around Killian’s neck, instantly constricting and lifting him slightly o
ff of the ground. She watched as he writhed in fear, his hands clutching desperately at the rigid vine as sheer panic lit his stunned face.
“Never questions me! Never! Insubordinate fools like you are the reason the King no longer trusts the army. You’re the reason he no longer trusts me!” Neala lifted her hand slightly and the vine raised the terrified general higher, to where his flexed toes were just barely able to touch the ground.
“You really want to know why I’m leaving your soldiers behind at each circle? Because the King is sending his spies after us--after me, that’s why! Because of that horrid Unworthy, that vile, stupid, little girl, he no longer believes that I can complete my work. Even when I’m out here, running around like a madwoman, dealing with worthless wastes-of-space like you. I’m trying desperately to save him, to fix this grave situation before it gets out of hand. And yet, he’s still sending his spies after me! But he forgets that I hold the true power! I still control the army!”
Killian struggled to nod assent, trying frantically to respond and show his allegiance to the Commander, but the vine’s hold was too tight and his lungs spasmed painfully, desperate for air.
“I am still powerful,” Neall snarled, her eyes wild with anger. “I will not be questioned by anyone!” Drawing her fingers into a firmly clenched fist, Neala’s glower never wavered as she watched the vine brutally squeeze his neck, crushing his windpipe until, with a final gasp, his head fell sickeningly limp to one side, his dead eyes still wide with terror.
“Pitiful,” she spat as she flicked her wrist, and the vine whipped his lifeless body away.
“Commander, we--” the soldier entering the stone circle froze midsentence. Horrified, she watched her general’s limp body roll to a stop at the base of one of the large stones.
“Gather the soldiers and assign one to stay at this site. We depart promptly,” Neala ordered. “Oh, and dispose of that,” she added contemptuously, waving a dismissive hand in the direction of the dead general as she strode out of the stone circle.
Neala would prove herself to the King, prove that she was still the fierce woman he had chosen to lead, that she was still a force to be reckoned with. She would find the problematic Unworthy and, family or no, crush her the way she’d crushed the damn general.
* * *
Rebecca had parked the truck across the street, hiding it at the edge of the adjacent corner. For the past three hours, she had sat, unmoving, in the driver’s seat, using the rearview mirror to stare raptly at the front door of the small two-story house. She’d watched as the rising sun lit up the darkened front windows with a wild array of oranges and yellows that glistened off the frozen dew that covered the front lawn.
This was his house--her father’s house. After so many months of searching, she’d finally found him. And yet, now that she was here, she couldn’t bring herself to confront him. As soon as she’d parked the truck, she’d been stricken by sheer terror. What if he wasn’t the man she’d been dreaming of? What if, like her mother, he didn’t truly want to be her parent? Seeing how much her mother genuinely feared her, knowing that Aileen had chosen revenge over her own daughter’s welfare, had utterly broken her. Especially with the dark strength still coursing dangerously throughout her body and mind, she knew she couldn’t handle having her heart broken again.
But it was more than that. What if he was the man she’d always longed for? What if he was everything she’d dreamed of? Was she really willing to risk his life? Each night, for months, she’d heard him calling out to her in her dreams, desperately trying to reach her, to help save her from herself. Her dreams always meant something--always. They had to be telling her that he wanted her to find him, that he was the only one who could fix her. But what if he didn’t realize the consequences? What if he didn’t know that reuniting would mean the Aillil would never stop until they killed him? Was saving herself really worth losing her father?
Overwhelmed and utterly exhausted, Rebecca slowly exhaled, leaning forward until her head rested against the steering wheel. Since her moment of rage at the mansion, when she’d given in and allowed the evil to flow through her, she hadn’t been able to regain full control over herself. No matter how hard she fought against the dark force, it still coursed throughout her body. It was consuming her, creeping through her veins and clouding her mind, threatening to destroy her true self. As much as the thought utterly terrified her, she had to accept that she might already be past the point of saving.
Movement at the edge of Rebecca’s vision caused her to snap upright and swivel in her seat. The house’s front door had opened. Someone was coming outside. Rebecca’s heart raced, thudding wildly in her ears. Anticipation and apprehension exploded within her, and her hands shook as she reached for the door handle. This was it. The moment she’d waited her entire life for had finally come. She was going to meet her father.
Tripping over himself as he walked through the front door, Charley stumbled down the front two steps, sloshing some of the coffee in his mug up onto the tattered sleeve of his blazer. Regaining his composure, he chuckled and clasped his briefcase between his knees. Then, switching the mug to his dry hand, he wiped his soaked sleeve on his trousers, not caring about the new stain it left on his pants.
His smile was exactly as it had been in the memory Rebecca’s mother had shared with her; jovial and carefree. Though he was obviously much older than the young man in the memory, he was still just as lean and tall, with the same bouncing blonde curls framing his cheerful face.
Clasping onto his briefcase once more, Charley’s bright blue eyes glinted as he scanned the surrounding street. Rebecca went rigid as her father’s inquisitive gaze stopped on the truck. Paralyzed in her seat, she watched tentatively through the rear window as he inspected the unfamiliar vehicle. Had he seen her? Was it possible that he recognized her?
Then, a sudden, loud noise from inside the house drew his attention away.
It was time. Rebecca’s palms were sweating profusely and her hands shook nervously as she pulled on the handle, releasing the truck door. It was now or never. She needed to go to her father, to be reunited with him.
“Rebecca!”
Astonished, she rushed out of the car. Her father was calling her! Just as he had in the dream! He knew she was here!
“Rebecca!”
She was just about to slam the truck door closed and race over to him when she froze. He wasn’t looking at her. He was calling out to her, but he was staring back into the house.
“Rebecca! Where are you?”
She took a timid step forward, leaving the car door ajar. What was happening? Fear stuck in her throat as she gazed achingly at her father. Why wasn’t he looking at her?
“Rebecca!” Charley shouted as he turned around and headed toward the old Subaru Outback parked in the driveway. “Come here, now!” Setting his mug on the roof of the vehicle, he pulled a set of keys from his blazer pocket and unlocked the driver’s side door.
Rebecca watched as her father leaned into the car and tossed his briefcase onto the back seat. She took another cautious step along the side of the truck, her eyes never once wavering from her father. All she needed was a sign, some signal that he was calling to her, and she would come running. But something wasn’t right. Why wasn’t he looking at her?
Charley stood tall beside the car and grabbed his mug from the roof, turning back to face the house again. “Rebecca, I can’t wait much longer!”
Another loud sound came from just inside the house. Startled, Rebecca looked up toward the open front door to see a small figure stumble through the doorframe, tripping slightly on the doorstep as she rushed to pull on her shoe.
“Sorry, Daddy!” the little girl laughed as she regained her balance. A beaming smile lit up her rosy face--a face that was framed by long, bouncing, blonde curls. She was no older than 10, and her bright, blue eyes gleamed brilliantly in the fresh morning sunshine as she ran over to Charley. “I’m ready! I’m ready!” she called out to her fat
her.
Crippled with shock, Rebecca’s breath caught in her throat and her panicked eyes stared unbelievingly at the joyous little girl.
“Come here, my little darling,” her father laughed as he bent over to hug his daughter tightly. “I’m going to be late because of you,” he joked as he pulled away, playfully tousling her golden hair. “Jump in, and let’s go.”
Her knees collapsing beneath her, Rebecca fell backwards against the side of the truck. Absolute anguish ripped apart her chest, viciously tearing her heart in two as she was overcome with grief and desolation.
“I love you, Daddy,” the little girl giggled behind her.
The words echoed mercilessly in Rebecca’s ears as she slid down the side of the truck, crumpling onto the pavement. He had never been calling to her. Hanging her head between her knees, she sat there, defeated, as tears streamed down her trembling cheeks. He had no idea she existed. Gasping for air, she allowed her misery to consume her. He had a new Rebecca.
The Subaru’s engine roared to life and Charley drove down the short gravel driveway and out onto the street. Despondently, Rebecca glanced up as the vehicle slowed to a stop at the intersection near the truck. She could see them laughing inside, their matching blonde curls springing around their jovial faces, their identical bright, blue eyes glinting with happiness. Then, the vehicle pulled forward and was gone. And she was alone.
Without warning, an intense rage spread throughout Rebecca’s body, devouring her pain and grief, ravaging her broken heart, and destroying the last remaining shred of her true self. Giving up any residual hope she’d clung to, letting go of all desire to save herself, she allowed the darkness to consume her. Her Feiceann side had triumphed. She could no longer, would no longer, fight against it.
Rebecca rose swiftly from the pavement, the chilled streaks of tears on her cheeks beginning to dry. Her intense fury burned wildly within her as she turned toward the open driver’s door and stepped back into the truck, yanking the door closed behind her. As she focused her determined glare on the empty road in front of her, she turned the key, igniting the truck’s engine, and slammed her foot down on the gas pedal. The back tires skidded across the pavement as she cranked the steering wheel, directing the hurtling truck toward the place her body was calling out for, the place her dreams had shown her. This was her only choice, her only remaining path. At long last, she’d become a true Feiceann.
