by Rye Brewer
“What brings you here?” I asked once she was settled.
“Fane got message to me to visit you. He didn’t explain why—you know how mysterious he can be.”
Yes, I knew that all too well, seeing as how he’d allowed me to believe he was dead for decades.
“He thought you might need me, and that I might need you.”
There was no missing the apology in her voice. She didn’t come out and say it, but she was afraid I would be angry that she’d come.
“As it turns out, I do need your help. The protective enchantment placed on League headquarters is wearing out, now that Lucian’s dead. I need a new protection cast, and I don’t know the witch who cast the original spell. Or even that she’d be loyal to us.”
“I see. I’m sure that can be arranged without trouble. We can go as soon as you wish.” It was that easy. As always, she was happy to be of service. Once again, I couldn’t help but feel guilty for my attitude toward her.
“He wanted something else. We discussed it before he left.” I didn’t know how to say it. “He asked that you come to stay at the high-rise, for your protection and comfort. I see no reason why that can’t be arranged.”
Her eyes lit up, but she was still cautious. “How do you feel about that?”
How did I feel? What a loaded question. There was no way I could put into words the conflict her very presence caused—even if I could, I wouldn’t share it with her. Not only did she not need to hear it, but I wasn’t in the habit of sharing that sort of thing.
Instead of answering her directly, I said, “You’re free to settle in here whenever you wish.”
“Thank you.” Her hands landed on her belly—whether or not it was a conscious action, I didn’t know.
I couldn’t help but remember what Anissa had pointed out, on the roof. She was a hybrid, just as Sirene’s unborn child was. My half-sibling. Anissa and Sara were still close, though they weren’t full siblings, and even though Anissa was part-fae. They’d been through more together than many full siblings faced, too, and it had only made their relationship stronger.
Along with that came the understanding that any child Anissa and I had someday would also be a hybrid, thanks to Anissa’s fae blood. I certainly wouldn’t love my own child any less for that.
“In case you’re wondering…” I stood, turning away from her. It was never easy for me to share what was inside me—even, at times, with Anissa. “I feel differently than I once did. I see things differently now. You and the baby are welcome here, of course.”
Her face lit up with a smile of relief. “Thank you, Jonah. I can’t tell you what it means to hear you say that.”
And it took so little to make her happy, too. Another reason for me to regret acting the way I had earlier.
“It’s the least I can do,” I replied.
“Perhaps there’s something else I can do for you,” she offered. “I wouldn’t like to live here, with all of you, without contributing something.”
She piqued my interest—and my confusion. “What would that be?”
“I’m a witch, Jonah,” she reminded me, still smiling calmly. “I could be your clan’s witch. I know you don’t currently have one—and am not certain as to whether you ever did.”
Neither was I, frankly. I didn’t remember ever hearing of one.
“You would all be stronger as a result,” she pointed out. “I would be on-hand when you need spells, like the one you need me to cast on your headquarters. And I would be—for lack of a better description—more like part of the family.”
Part of the family. How would my siblings feel about that? I realized that it didn’t matter—I would tell them how to feel about it, and they would support my decision. They’d also support Fane’s wishes, and there was no doubt as to how he’d feel about Sirene being part of us.
“All right. I’ll tell the others about it. You make a good point: the clan can only be stronger as a result of this.”
It was easier to keep personal feelings out of the conversation. She seemed to understand that as she nodded without any further questions or explanation.
“And now, if you don’t mind, I would like to course to headquarters so the spell can be placed before there’s a chance of anything happening there.”
She nodded.
40
Jonah
“If there’s one thing I haven’t yet grown accustomed to, it’s coursing,” Sirene observed with a shaky chuckle once we arrived at headquarters. “I can jump dimensions without a second thought, but coursing always leaves me a little shaky.”
One look at her pale face told me the truth of what she said.
“Here. Rest for a moment.” I helped her to a fallen tree which sat not far from the entrance to Avellane.
I had always used the tree to identify where the entrance was located, since it wasn’t as obvious as a portal. For good reason, I supposed.
I watched her with a critical eye. Was it a bad idea to course with a pregnant witch? I hadn’t considered that. Fane would have my hide if anything happened to Sirene. What a turn of events—taking care of the witch, when I had spent so much time resenting her presence in our lives.
“I’ll be all right,” she assured me, looking around. “I haven’t been here in a long time. Even then, it wasn’t a lengthy visit. I seem to remember there being an entrance to another realm around here somewhere.”
I pointed a little way into the distance. “The entrance to Avellane is behind you.”
She looked over her shoulder. “Oh, yes. I see it.” When I frowned, she explained, “Witches and fae have a mostly amicable relationship. The entrance is more visible to me than it would be to you.”
“Who is that, standing over there?” I squinted when a figure emerged from behind a tree, beside the entry point, trying to make them out.
The white hair told me they were of the fae, but that did nothing to narrow down the possibilities. A man. He came a little closer. Only then did I recognize him as Gregor.
“Anissa’s father,” I said, waving. He waved back. “I’d like to speak with him.”
“I’ll come with you, if it wouldn’t be intrusive.”
I offered her a hand up, and we crossed the short distance to where Gregor waited. He looked impatient, hands clasped behind his back as he paced to and fro.
“Gregor. This is Sirene.” The two of them acknowledged each other.
“I’ve seen Anissa,” he said with a broad smile, clapping me on the back.
His obvious delight was a pleasant surprise, and I turned to Sirene. “Gregor is my soon-to-be father-in-law,” I explained, feeling a little sheepish all of a sudden.
“I didn’t know you and Anissa were to be married!” She crossed her hands over her chest, clearly pleased. “Congratulations!”
“It’s a fairly recent turn of events,” I explained, then turned to Gregor. “You must have seen her only a short time ago, then.”
“It was a short time ago, yes. Both Anissa’s mother and I are very happy.”
“Oh? She saw Tabitha, too?” I was glad for that. It would’ve been a treat for Anissa to announce our engagement to both her parents at once. I wished I had been there.
Gregor nodded. “It’s Tabitha I’m waiting for right now.”
“Really?” So that was why he looked like a little boy waiting to open his Christmas presents. Like he was ready to jump out of his skin at any second. “I’m looking forward to meeting her, as soon as possible.”
“She should be here shortly,” Gregor explained. “I’ve been waiting for quite a while. I imagine it will be any minute now.”
“We have a few things to take care of at the moment, but let’s make it a point to get together soon. I’m sure Anissa will be thrilled.”
We said goodbye and headed back in the direction of the old cathedral. So, Anissa’s parents were going to be together again. I hoped for Gregor’s sake, at least, that it would be permanent.
“I’ve
always admired this building,” Sirene mused as we approached the cathedral. It dwarfed the two of us, the spires looking as though they pierced the sky.
A massive stained-glass window sat in the center of the front-facing wall, designed in the shape of a rose. Candles burned behind that window, giving it an almost supernatural glow.
“It’s sat here for many centuries. When I think of the impermanence of some of the structures around New York, and I look at this—especially considering the primitive tools they used back then—it’s awe-inspiring. I can’t tell you how many changes I’ve witnessed even during my lifetime.”
“This was built as a monument to God—or who the humans consider God to be,” Sirene pointed out. “Such monuments are constructed to last forever.”
“It’s difficult to imagine that there were once homes all around here, that this was the center of the town back then. Where all the townspeople came to worship, where they gathered in emergency or celebration. The focal point of their life.”
We made our way around the outside of the cathedral, as Sirene took in the size of the structure and what she’d need to do in order to protect it. As it stood at that moment, the grounds of the cathedral were barren, empty, without so much as a plant or a shrub to decorate them. As though the very ground which surrounded it had died when Lucian came into power.
I knew I was merely allowing my imagination to run away with me, but I couldn’t help it—especially knowing Lucian as I had.
“I imagine that to the humans who may happen upon it, the cathedral looks very different than it does to us,” she observed.
“Oh, of course. Though that could also be changing with the disintegration of the enchantment. It’s supposed to look to them as though it’s crumbling, dangerous, overgrown. Not worth approaching.”
“For their safety as well as yours, naturally.”
“Naturally,” I agreed.
We reached the front of the cathedral again, both of us standing in the glow of the rose window. She looked up at it, a soft smile touching her lips as she admired the glass.
“Beautiful,” she whispered. “Sometimes, humans can create things of real beauty.”
“Yes, sometimes they get it right.”
We went inside then, and I showed her around. She examined the stones of the massive columns which supported the vaulted ceiling, the floor, and the walls.
Walking up the few stairs which led to what used to be the altar, where a priest or bishop would celebrate the Mass, she looked out over the great hall.
It was where Lucian used to sit during League meetings. Where I supposed, I would sit if we held a meeting while I was still in command of the clans. Or perhaps I wouldn’t. Perhaps I would sit on the floor with the rest of them.
A wry smile touched my lips. I wouldn’t be the same sort of leader Lucian was.
She looked at me from that spot up there, where candles in ancient cut-glass sconces illuminated her lovely face. Her voice carried across the wide space.
“I’ll need a little privacy when it comes time to perform the spell. Now that I’ve taken everything in, I know what I’ll need to fetch from Duskwood in order to provide full protection against all outside forces.”
“That’s a relief.”
“I can do the same for the high-rise, if you wish.”
I hadn’t considered it—knowing that she could think of things like that, things I had missed, added a layer of confidence to our working together. I would take that to my siblings, too, and use it as further proof of her value to us.
“I can go to Duskwood now,” she suggested, crossing the hall. “It won’t take long.”
“That’s good. I’m going to stay here—there’s something I need to check on.”
“You’re a very busy person now, aren’t you?” She grinned, touching my arm as she walked away. “I’ll be back soon. I’ll portal in just outside the doors.”
I reflected again on how valuable she was to us, and for the first time, it struck me as fortuitous that Fane had gotten involved with her.
There wasn’t much time for me to reflect on this, however. I turned on my heel and headed straight for the dungeon. It wasn’t lost on me that I’d been standing in the very spot where Lucian had fallen at Vance’s hand. Vance was down there—his body was, at any rate, along with the others.
I had to check on them, since it wasn’t clear who else was doing it in my absence. The main floor had been ominously quiet. I would have to do something about that, too. I didn’t appreciate the lack of guards.
I didn’t come across any guards as I jogged down the steps, either or along the corridor which ran between two rows of cells.
I heard what sounded like soft crying coming from a cell a little further down, which I assumed was Genevieve. I wondered briefly if she expected me or anybody else to feel sorry for her—until I came to Vance’s cell, when nothing else mattered.
Because the cell was empty. Locked and empty. I examined the lock—it hadn’t been tampered with. But it took no skill at all to see that there was nothing but a bundled blanket sitting on the bunk Vance should’ve been sleeping in.
I took a step back, my mind unable to process what I was looking at.
Vance was gone.
Which meant Valerius was gone.
41
Sara
I hoped Elewyn was still inside the castle, and that she’d seen me walk inside with Stark’s hand in mine. It would be best for her to know right away how things stood between us.
I wasn’t about to let her get away with thinking Stark would ever be hers. He was mine, even if all we’d done was kiss a few times. We were sharing that little cottage just outside the castle. That had to count for something.
“You’re ready for this? You’re absolutely sure?” Stark stopped for a moment when we reached the courtyard, pulling me to him in an almost playful gesture.
I nodded, chuckling, stretching up on my tiptoes with the intent of kissing him again. I would never get tired of kissing him.
“Sara?”
I gasped, whirling around, still holding Stark’s hand but focused on a very angry, very confused Scott.
It was insane. It couldn’t be real. What was he doing here? I was struck with the very real sense of worlds colliding. He was my past. Stark was my present, hopefully, my future.
But Scott didn’t know that, and it was with a sinking heart that I reminded myself of that very grim fact.
“Sara.” Stark dropped my hand, shaking his out, and I realized I had shocked him.
I jumped back, gasping, holding my hands up like they were weapons. They sparked and sizzled the way they used to, before my training. I was losing control again.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Only I didn’t know who I was apologizing to. Stark? Scott? Both of them?
“What the hell is this?” Scott shouted. He wasn’t only confused. He was angry. Furious. And it wasn’t only because of the way I’d cozied up to Stark. He was staring at my hands. “What, are you a witch now?”
I stammered, trying to find the words. “Please. I can explain!”
“You’d better explain,” he snarled. “I thought you were a vampire. I thought I knew you! But here you are now. A stinking half-breed!” He had turned into something terrible, something ugly and vicious. I didn’t know him at all. Maybe I never had.
I couldn’t control it, the frustration and rage which boiled over at the sight of his disgust, at the sound of the words he was calling me as he snarled and snapped and accused.
He lunged for me, and I panicked. I couldn’t help myself. I extended my hands in his direction and sent bolts of electricity straight at him.
“No!” It was Anissa. She was behind him, warning me off.
At the sound of her voice, I managed to dial back the strength of my attack just enough to halt him in his tracks. I hadn’t jolted him any more than I’d jolted Stark a moment before. Not that he deserved my mercy.
“You thought you
knew me?” I raged, glaring at him, still holding my hands out as a warning. “You’re not the only one feeling betrayed right now!”
“Oh, so you’re the victim?” he asked, gaping in disbelief.
“I can’t help who I am! And you should know better than to behave this way with me, when you know who my sister is. You know she’s half-fae. She’s—what did you call it? A stinking half-breed?” I wanted to shock him for it, just to pay him back for saying something so terrible. I couldn’t believe I ever thought I had feelings for a pathetic, petulant man-child. Not only that, but he had a vengeful heart. He leaped to nasty, hostile behavior, and all because he was disappointed.
And because of who I was. He was just that hateful. At least I no longer had to feel guilty over my feelings for Stark.
“Scott!” Fane appeared in the doorway.
Who else was here?
“Take it easy, son. Don’t do this.”
Scott ignored him. There might as well have not been anybody else in the world except for him and me. He lunged again—and this time, his fangs were bared.
So many things happened at once. I heard the cheering and hollering all around me and realized it was the prisoners inside the castle, watching from their windows, thrilled to pieces at finally having the chance to witness something exciting.
To them, it was nothing more than entertainment. They clapped and shouted their approval as Scott lunged, and I flung my hands out, ready to protect myself.
Stark was faster than Scott, though, throwing himself in front of me.
Scott pulled back just in time to avoid attacking Stark. The cheering intensified when it looked as though Stark was entering the fight.
“You need to stop this,” Stark warned in a dangerously low voice, holding his arms out to the sides as if to protect me. “Back off.”
“Who the hell do you think you are, telling me what to do?” Scott laughed. “You’re pathetic. Stop blocking your little girlfriend—she can defend herself.”
I could barely hear him over the jeering, cheering prisoners.
