‘Hell’s thorns, Gen, what are you playing at? The woman’s a witch! Using magic like that could get you the death sentence.’
As the limo moved quietly into the busy traffic I flattened my palms on the leather seat and studied him, to give my anger and hurt a chance to cool down. He was in his usual human-looking Glamour, and he looked good. His dark blond hair waved to his shoulders, his sharp, triangular horns were tight to his head and almost hidden. His brown suit was dark enough that it was verging on black. The suit looked dressier than usual, and fitted his athletic, muscular body like it was hand-tailored. His fine cotton shirt was open at his throat, the soft cream contrasting nicely with the darker tan of his skin. It dawned on me he looked more than good: he always looked great, but today he’d made an extra effort … maybe the bastard thought it would gain him points. My hands curled into tight fists in anger. It didn’t.
‘When were you going to tell me about your child, Finn?’ I said, forcing my voice into calmness. ‘The one you fathered with Helen? After all, it’s not like we’ve known each other very long, right? I mean it’s only been – what? Ten fucking months?’ Okay, so maybe I wasn’t as calm as I could be. ‘And it’s not like we don’t work together on a daily basis or anything, is it, Finn? Or that we didn’t talk about you having kids with Helen only yesterday, did we?’
He let out a breath and pushed his hands through his hair, his moss-green eyes sombre and, oddly, filled with something that looked more like relief than guilt at being caught out.
‘I’m sorry, Gen. I really didn’t want you to find out from someone else,’ he said quietly.
‘Then why didn’t you tell me yourself?’ I demanded. ‘Or did you think maybe you’d just wait until I gave birth before introducing me to my future child’s brother?’
‘Sister,’ he said.
‘What?’
‘Helen and I have a daughter. Her name is Nicola.’
I stared at him in disbelief, my anger momentarily forgotten in the face of something that went against everything about fae ‘facts of life’ I’d had drummed into me by Grianne. ‘That’s just not possible. Witches always have sons – faelings – if the dad is a lesser fae. That’s the way the magic works.’
‘Why do you think I was chosen to court you, Gen?’ Finn said, an old note of resignation in his voice. ‘My daughter might be faeling, but she’s the nearest to a full-blood fae born in the last century. If I didn’t know different, even I’d say she was satyr, and that Helen couldn’t possibly be her mother. But I know she is. I watched Nicky being born. I know it’s not supposed to happen. Hell’s thorns, Helen shouldn’t have been able to get pregnant anyway! Most ninth-generation witches never have more than one child, and we weren’t even taking part in the fertility rite proper; we just ended up fooling around nearby.’ Faint colour stained his angular cheekbones. ‘The witches’ rites get a bit wild at times,’ he said more quietly. ‘You know how it is.’
I didn’t, never having been to one. I wasn’t sure I wanted to, either.
‘Of course, once we both realised, we were thrilled. We jumped the broom.’ He paused. ‘We broke up when Nicky was nine, but we’ve always stayed friends.’ Because of Nicky. He didn’t say it, but it was as obvious as the worried look on his face. And, of course he was too much of a good guy not to stay friends with his daughter’s mother— that explained why Helen was his number one speed-dial. My heart did its little leap again. Even if his comment about ‘fooling around’ meant Nicky’s advent hadn’t been planned. Although, if it wasn’t for what he’d said about Helen being a ninth-generation witch, I’d have bet money she’d trapped him. The thoughts kept a lid on my anger.
‘Why didn’t you tell me about Nicky?’ I asked.
He gave me a rueful look. ‘I couldn’t, Gen.’ He shook his head as he saw my questioning look. ‘No, not a magical gag, but I gave my word to Helen that I wouldn’t speak of Nicky to you unless you specifically asked me if she and I had kids. This was before I met you.’
He’d given his word. Fae don’t give or break their word lightly; the magic demands too great a price. My anger redirected itself at Helen. She’d been determined to put a spoke in mine and Finn’s relationship wheel from the beginning … except she hadn’t known me.
I frowned at him. ‘Why would she make you promise something like that?’
‘Helen’s always been … conflicted about the sidhe,’ he said, leaning forwards. ‘It stems from a problem with her father. For some reason he visited. Most of them don’t.’
Right. Witches were the ultimate single parents by necessity. Sidhe dads don’t stick around much after the fertility rites, which isn’t such a wonderful endorsement for the male of my species, but it’s not like the covens haven’t been encouraging the sidhe to keep coming back for centuries, so it wasn’t all one-sided. But it sounded like Helen’s sidhe father was an exception and, sadly, not a good one. I sighed. I so didn’t want to start feeling sorry for her again.
‘She had a good relationship with him,’ Finn said, as if he’d heard my thoughts, ‘but then when Helen was eight, her mother fostered a little girl: a relative of her father’s.’ He paused. ‘A sidhe. The two girls were the same age and became great friends, even thought of each other as sisters most of the time, except whenever Helen’s father visited after that, he was more concerned with the sidhe, and’ – his mouth tightened with disgust – ‘he virtually ignored Helen, his own daughter.’
I stared at him, remembering the family tree and the horrific story the Librarian and Sylvia had told me, and pieces of the puzzle dropped into the bigger picture. ‘Helen’s foster sister was Brigitta, wasn’t she? The one whose mother’ – Angel – ‘was kidnapped and raped by the Old Donn? And you all insisted on keeping Brigitta in London when her mother was sent back to the Fair Lands because you all wanted to breed from her to break the curse, just like you do me,’ I added accusingly. ‘Brigitta’s father was the fossegrim. Her daughter is a faeling called Ana’ – I waved at the privacy screen between us and the front of the limo – ‘and she’s married to my solicitor’s son.’
He stilled, and scrubbed a hand over his face. ‘Yeah, that’s her, but I didn’t think you knew the story.’
I laughed: it wasn’t happy. ‘Seems like everyone I talk to just now has something new to tell me about the curse.’
‘But then, you haven’t really talked to anyone about it before, have you, Gen?’ he said, a hint of reproach in his words. ‘So it’s only natural now you’re asking, that you’re going to hear about all the sordid stuff that no one usually mentions.’
He could say that again. I pursed my lips. ‘So Helen doesn’t like any sidhe because her father ignored her when she was a kid, and I’m the one who ends up as her whipping girl.’
‘It wasn’t just that. The sidhe took Helen’s son for a changeling, remember. When that happened, her feelings understandably worsened. Then things got difficult when Tavish’s list came out. When Nicky found out that I was going to be courting you, she got really excited and was desperate to meet you. Helen was … well, she got very upset about it all. I think she was frightened that after the sidhe took her son, you would try and steal her other child from her.’
I had this vision of a miniature Helen, only with cute little horns and pigtails, jumping up and down on her tiny hooves, then being sent to her room. Poor Nicky. It didn’t sound like having Helen as a mum was much fun. But then, maybe I was biased. Not to mention, ‘very upset’ sounded more like paranoia.
‘I know it’s irrational,’ Finn said, again in tune with my own thoughts, ‘but Helen can be very insecure at times. So in the end I promised not to tell you anything about Nicky unless you asked. I always thought you would, but you never did.’
It had never crossed my mind … which in itself was kind of odd, now I thought about it, but then other people’s family were hard to chat about when you were trying to keep your own family a secret. I stared blindly at the rest of the traffic
inching along out of the blacked-out window. Finn had given his word, so he couldn’t have broken it, but there were ways round that (now I thought about it, Ricou and Sylvia’s little act in my kitchen had been exactly that). But having met Helen and been on the sharp end of her jealousy, and now knowing her background, I could see why Finn had kept his daughter a secret – well, not so much a secret, just not mentioned her up until now. My initial anger and shock was dampened by a mix of reluctant pity and sadness for Helen, and sympathy for both Finn and his daughter.
I looked back at Finn, and realised he was waiting for me to say something. Suddenly the situation felt awkward. Finding out my sort-of boyfriend had a secret kid wasn’t exactly a conversation-starter once the details were out the way. So, you’ve got a daughter. Um, let’s state the obvious, why don’t we? In the end, I settled for curiosity. ‘So, does Nicky live with you or Helen?’
He gave an odd laugh. ‘Gods, no – Nicky is very independent. She’s doing a Media and Arts degree. I wanted her to stay with her mother, or with the herd, but she insisted on moving out. She and three of her mates share this tiny two-bedroomed house. I’m lucky if she remembers to return my calls more than a couple of times a week.’
I blinked. ‘Just how old is Nicky?’
‘Nineteen.’ He grinned proudly. ‘Last December.’
‘Shit, Finn! She’s only six years younger than me.’
His grin faltered. ‘Why’s that a surprise?’
‘I don’t know,’ I said, stumped. I’d never really considered his age. I’d always thought of him as not much older than me, and I’d so never imagined he’d have a grown-up kid. Of course, he only looked my age – not that youthful looks meant much, with most fae being long-lived to nearly immortal – but most of the time he didn’t act much older either. ‘It just is,’ I finished lamely.
He rubbed behind his left horn. ‘I keep forgetting you’ve been brought up by humans. I’m a hundred and ten, Gen, but I’ve only got the one kid. Some fae my age have a lot more.’
‘Yeah … Ricou said he’s got six pups.’
‘Ricou’s also got about thirty-odd halfling grandkids and great-grandkids,’ he said drily. ‘If I remember right, his youngest is in her fifties and she’s got two grandkids herself.’
Oh.
Finn leaned forward, resting his forearms on his thighs. ‘Look,’ he said earnestly, ‘I know something happened yesterday, something to do with the curse that you can’t tell me, but I don’t want this to put you off us. Nicky’s old enough that she wouldn’t be part of our day-to-day life, so— Look, how about I organise for you to meet her?’ He smiled hopefully. ‘I can phone her now. She’d be over the moon.’
Chapter Thirty-Three
Now? Meet his kid now? What if she didn’t like me? For all that Finn had said she was excited, she was Helen’s daughter, after all. And I had enough on my emotional plate just now. ‘I don’t know, Finn. I sort of feel like I’m standing on quicksand and with everything that’s going on, the ground keeps disappearing beneath me. I think I need a couple of days to get used to the idea.’
‘Okay, you just let me know when,’ he said, reaching out to give my arm a reassuring squeeze. Then he frowned. ‘So, want to tell me what’s been happening?’
I told him everything about Tavish, the Morrígan, my visit to Sucker Town (leaving out the gory details), the sad memories I kept picking up, Tavish having some sort of deal with Malik (mentioning Malik’s name brought a scowl to his face) and, lastly, about Jack the raven’s mysterious visit. ‘So I think it’s all to do with the curse, but I can’t work out what, and how it all fits together? Any ideas?’
He tapped the limo’s leather seat thoughtfully for a few moments, then clasped his hands together and gave me a frank look. ‘Clíona’s daughter and granddaughter, and Ana and the dreadful things that happened to them, they’re everything to do with the curse, Gen. And to be honest, yes, one of us probably should have told you before, but it’s not a story that any of us are proud of, especially after the dryads tried to do something similar to you. We need you to help us, and telling you about all the terrible things that we fae have done in the past to other sidhe isn’t the best way to make you feel sympathetic, is it?’
He’d got that spot-on.
‘As for the Morrígan and the memories she’s shown you … well, they seem to be relevant to Ana and her time with the vamps. It could be that this Maxim – or the other suckers – are a threat to Ana again, and the Morrígan is using you to make sure she is safe.’
‘Okay,’ I said, frowning, ‘but why would she do that?’
‘Guilt’s one reason. The Old Donn was the Morrígan’s son—’
‘He was her son?’ Damn, she’d lost her own son! No wonder she’d told me, ‘Losing a child is painful.’
‘Anyway,’ Finn carried on, ‘the way we heard it, Clíona imprisoned the Morrígan in retaliation for what he did to her daughter. It could be the Morrígan’s now trying to make amends by helping Ana through you, possibly because you’re the only one she can reach, or because of your connections with the suckers.’ He scowled again. ‘Or she could just have come to some arrangement with Clíona.’
‘So she’s got Tavish chained up just so she can talk to me?’ I asked, incredulous.
He laughed, but there wasn’t much mirth in the sound. ‘Don’t start feeling responsible, Gen. The Morrígan’s been after Tavish for years. If he’d so much as breathed in her direction she’d have nabbed him. It was him, with the help of the fossegrim, who killed the Old Donn and his pals.’
Tavish had killed the Morrígan’s son? Crap, he really was in trouble, and despite him being interfering and arrogant and over-protective, he was still my friend. He’d helped me when I needed it, and I wanted to do the same for him. If I could just work out how …
‘But surely if the Old Donn was in the wrong, the Morrígan can’t hold Tavish?’ I asked, hearing the worry in my voice.
‘Doesn’t stop her being upset that her son is dead or wanting revenge, does it?’ Finn said. ‘Look, Gen, Tavish is old and tricky enough to look after himself. Don’t forget he virtually killed three wylde fae on his own, the fossegrim’s not all there apparently. So Tavish will find a way out of whatever problem he’s in with the Morrígan sooner or later. I wouldn’t waste too much sleep over him, if I were you. And as for the rest, I haven’t a clue what the suckers are up to, other than it probably has to do with the usual: blood. Or who this Jack the raven is or what he’s after either.’ He reached out and took my hands, his fingers were warm and gentle. ‘I know you want to find another way to crack the curse, Gen, and that it’s a big step to take having a child, but—’ He stopped and rolled his shoulders like he was getting ready to deliver bad news. ‘I know all this info is new to you, and you want to believe that it means there is another way to crack the curse, but I don’t think anyone’s trying to tell you anything different here. I think it’s more that they’re all using you for their own ends.’
Of course, my own magical gag clause was still in effect, so I still couldn’t tell Finn about my visit to Disney Heaven. I pondered on how to convince him, and finally picked up the brown autopsy envelope and told him about all the missing faelings instead.
‘They do have something to do with the curse,’ I said firmly.
‘I believe you, but the police are dealing with it,’ he said, then frowned. ‘They’ve been questioning the herd, for some strange reason’ – he shook his head in bewilderment, while The Mother’s gag clause stopped me telling him about the ‘clue’ I’d sent Hugh in my email – ‘but whatever it’s about, it’s the coppers’ job to deal with it, not yours.’
Which was what Malik had said to me. But The Mother had told me to stop whoever was killing the faelings, and when it came down to it, I wasn’t going to piss off The Mother Goddess by ignoring her, and that meant no way was I going to leave the police to deal with it. I was going to do all I could to help them – or rather, Hugh, sinc
e Witch-bitch Helen wouldn’t have anything to do with me. I was still going to visit the ravens, and I’d do anything else it took. But it didn’t look like Finn was buying into that, and it was pointless arguing with him about it, not when I couldn’t use what The Mother had told me to convince him. I decided to change the subject to something I could tell him about.
Tavish’s handprint spell on my stomach.
‘Can you show me?’ he asked, frowning in concern.
‘Yep,’ I said, and undid my jeans, leaned back along the bench seat and managed to reveal most of the black handprint without losing too much modesty.
Finn’s green eyes filled with alarm and … anger. He moved closer and gently pushed up my top to uncover the mass of purple bruising. ‘You’ve been injured, Gen?’
‘Ah.’ I pulled a face. ‘I ran into a bit of a problem last night.’
‘A bit of a problem?’
‘You should see the other guy,’ I quipped, thinking that while Mad Max hadn’t personally injured me, he was ultimately responsible. I was pretty sure that despite being a vamp he looked worse than me right now. ‘Hey, and painkillers work wonders.’
‘What other guy?’ A muscle in Finn’s jaw twitched in anger. ‘It’s that sucker, isn’t it? Did he do this?’
So much for keeping things light. ‘No.’ I pulled my top down over my unzipped jeans. ‘He helped’ – mostly – ‘and I’m fine.’ I caught his hand. Time for a truth he didn’t want to hear – and one I hated to admit. ‘Finn, the vamps – Malik al-Khan, at any rate – they’re probably always going to be a part of my life. Whatever happens. I can’t change that, so it’s pointless getting all worked up over it, okay?’
The Bitter Seed of Magic Page 23
