Band of Demons (The Sanheim Chronicles Book 2)

by Rob Blackwell

  But it was a lie. Kieran had been helping Quinn and Kate. She couldn’t fathom why, and didn’t truly care. What she wanted was Kieran’s head on a silver platter.

  When Sawyer opened the door to find an empty room, he went berserk. He killed Karen and Edward—two of her favorites—almost immediately. The other moidin hid in terror.

  He sent out search parties. Elyssa organized a pack that spread out across the area, searching for his scent anywhere. They had even set up a guard outside Quinn and Kate’s home, hoping to catch him just as he got there.

  But for reasons she couldn’t explain, the trap had failed. Somehow Kieran had passed through their net and succeeded in joining Kate and Quinn.

  When Kieran pledged himself to their cause, they felt it immediately, like being thrown suddenly into cold water. They felt weaker. Worse, everyone felt it, not just them.

  Elyssa didn’t think other moidin would defect. She suspected they were too far gone for that to happen. But it was now at least a possibility—and that was unacceptable.

  “You can blame them all you want,” Elyssa said. “But it was our fault, not theirs. We should have seen it coming.”

  Sawyer rounded on her with an ugly expression on his face. Not so many years ago, she had thought him the most handsome man in the world, with his finely muscled chest and gorgeous blue eyes. He might look the same, but he felt like a different man to her now.

  “Don’t you think I know that?” he said. “I should have guessed he would betray us at the first opportunity. I let myself…”

  Elyssa understood. She let herself think the same thing—that when Kieran pledged himself to them, he had let the past go. But they—of all people—should have known that the past was always with them, like a band of demons at their heels.

  “We will find him,” Sawyer said. “And I’ve changed my mind. I’ll let you kill him. Somehow I think whatever you dream up will be even worse than what I can think of.”

  “Thank you,” Elyssa said. It might have been the first nice thing he had said to her in several years. “In the meantime…”

  “What?” he barked. “In the meantime, what?”

  “We’re just sitting here, waiting for Halloween,” Elyssa said. “Shouldn’t we attack again? Maybe assault their apartment?”

  “We don’t have enough power left for that,” he said dismissively. “Besides, my love, how do you plan to deal with that frightful scream of hers? Do you think if you ask her nicely, she just won’t do it?”

  “I’ve been thinking…”

  “Oh, do tell,” Sawyer said. “The great Elyssa Parker has a plan, does she?”

  She slapped him then. She’d wanted to hit him for days. Instead of hitting her back, he just stared at her. To her, that made it even worse.

  “Get out,” he said.

  “Goddamn it, Sawyer, will you snap out of it?” Elyssa said, letting her hurt and anger to the fore for the first time in months. “You’re sulking like a school child. You need to focus on the task at hand or everything we’ve done for years will be lost.”

  “I know what we need to do,” he said. “I know exactly what we need to do. Do you think I’m just biding my time up here?”

  “How would I know? You don’t let me in your head anymore.”

  “Because you don’t deserve to be there,” he responded.

  “Fine. Then what’s your great plan? Why don’t we move already?”

  To Elyssa, it seemed like last month all over again. Faced with real opposition, Sawyer was suddenly unsure of himself.

  “The scream is what matters,” Sawyer said. “She may have some other abilities—but that’s her ace in the hole. We have to take that away from her.”

  “How would you suggest doing that?”

  “Do you really want to know?” he asked.

  For the first time in days, he opened his mind to her. She felt happiness at first—and then she saw his plan.

  “You can’t be serious.”

  “Perfectly.”

  “That’s… that’s madness, Sawyer,” Elyssa said. “I won’t do it to them. They follow us. Willingly.”

  “And they would willingly die if we asked them,” he said. “This is better than that, surely.”

  “I won’t do it.”

  Sawyer grabbed her by the arm and stared into her face.

  “You’ll do what I tell you,” he said. “Just like you always have. But don’t worry, I’m not going to ask you to follow suit. You stood up to the banshee when the others fled.”

  “But it’s insanity,” she said.

  “It’s necessity,” Sawyer responded. “‘If thine eye offends thee, pluck it out.’”

  “Then why don’t you go first?” she asked.

  “Please,” he responded. “I don’t need to. If the moidin are immune, they can keep her busy enough that she won’t be screaming—except when we want her to.”

  “Please, Sawyer,” she said.

  She put her hands on his face.

  “Don’t do this,” she said. “You loved me once, I know it. Don’t do this.”

  “It’s the only way,” he said. “There will be other moidin, you know.”

  She kissed him then—a last, desperate act. But Sawyer didn’t kiss her back. It felt like kissing a corpse.

  She pulled away.

  “Why can’t you at least let me in?” she asked. “Maybe if I understood, I could help more. Why do you have to leave me here alone?”

  He stared at her coldly, like she was some kind of insect.

  “That’s not the right question,” Sawyer said. “The real question is why I ever let you in at all.”

  She didn’t gasp, didn’t cry out, didn’t respond in any way. Instead, she turned and left the room.

  When she was downstairs, she smiled to the moidin, whispered words of encouragement, told them everything was all right. She couldn’t mention the plan Sawyer had in mind.

  Only when she was in her room did she curl up on her bed and sob.

  *****

  Kate leaned on a cannon while she surveyed the field before her. In the bright sunlight, it looked like a peaceful place. But in her mind’s eye, she could see the history of what happened here. The emotional trauma of one day had permanently scarred the landscape. It wasn’t visible to the naked eye, but she could feel it like a tremor in the earth.

  “Yes,” she said, “This will do nicely.”

  “You want to explain why?” her companion said, and Kate was momentarily startled.

  She had forgotten Kieran was with her, even though it was her idea. She had hoped to use the time to pry more information from him about Elyssa and Sawyer. Instead, he’d pestered her with pointless questions, his own anxiety showing through in every one.

  “Not particularly,” she replied.

  Kieran shrugged.

  “Fine, don’t tell me,” he said, sounding a bit like a petulant child. “But I’m not taking the blame when your plan goes to hell.”

  Kate frowned at him.

  “It’s not that I don’t want to share my plan, it’s just that I don’t trust you,” she said.

  “You’ve made that very clear,” he replied. “Why did you bring me out here?”

  “Because I want to know more about Elyssa, for one,” she said.

  “Okay, let’s cut a deal,” he replied. “You answer at least my basic questions about what you’re planning, and I’ll tell you everything you want to know.”

  Kate could push it, she knew as much. He had already promised to deliver everything he knew. But she was going to have to share her plan sooner or later—and it wouldn’t hurt to have his feedback.

  “Fine, but you first,” Kate said. “What is Elyssa, exactly?”

  “She’s a Phooka,” Kieran replied. “It’s an old Celtic legend.”

  “Isn’t everything?” Kate asked.

  Kieran chuckled.

  “It’s a spirit of nature that can assume any animal shape. When you first met her,
she was Sawyer’s horse. But she can be any animal.”

  “She can’t turn into a person?”

  “No, or she doesn’t think she can, so she can’t,” Kieran said.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It’s like anything in life—we are bound by the limitations we place upon ourselves,” Kieran said. “If she believed she could turn into people, she probably could, but it’s not the way she defines a Phooka, so she can’t.”

  “So what was she the other night?”

  “Oh, Elyssa started getting fancy about 30 or 40 years ago, or so I understand,” Kieran said. “She likes to become mythical creatures now. Finds it more interesting than being, say, a cheetah.”

  “And she controls the moidin? She turns them into creatures?”

  “Pretty much,” he said. “It’s funny, I’ve read a lot about the Princes of Sanheim, and it’s always about the guy. But the woman is usually the one who controls the moidin and that makes her more important in my view. She defines what they are.”

  “They can use her ability?” Kate said.

  “To a point,” Kieran said. “They can’t turn into anything they want. Elyssa calls the tune and they dance to it. She tells them what to turn into.”

  “So they were all dobhar-chus?”

  “Yes, if that’s what Elyssa wants,” he said.

  “How do I kill them?”

  “Quinn already found that out,” Kieran said. “They’re still just animals. They’re vicious, mythical creatures that never walked the earth—same as the Headless Horseman was never a real Hessian soldier. But they’re not unbeatable. What makes them especially challenging, however, is that they’re linked together.”

  “Elyssa controls them?”

  “Yes,” he said. “They can act autonomously, but she’s their leader.”

  “So why is she a Phooka?” Kate asked.

  Kieran shrugged.

  “The man’s cennad is always based on his worst fears,” Kieran replied. “Sawyer once told me the story of Aillen terrified him as a child. I assume Quinn felt the same way about the Headless Horseman. But with the woman, it’s not the same worst-fear type of scenario. It seems to be based as much on your personality as on anything else.”

  “Great,” Kate replied. “So I’m obsessed with death?”

  “Maybe,” Kieran said. “On a subconscious level, both you and Elyssa chose what you are. If you want my psychoanalysis of Elyssa, I’d say she’s a Phooka because she’s always wanted to be something other than herself. She tapped into a myth that allowed her to change shapes depending on circumstances. She prides herself on her adaptability—and her cennad reflects that. As for you…”

  “My mother,” Kate said. It was all she had to say.

  “You experienced death in a very intimate way at a young age,” Kieran said. “The banshee is a guardian of the dead, a warning to others, and an avenging spirit all wrapped into one. It suits you perfectly. It’s also a potential game-changer.”

  Kate stared out at the field in front of her and watched as the trees at the far edge swayed slightly in the breeze.

  “Why do you say that?” she asked.

  “As far as I know, you’re unique in the history of the Princes of Sanheim,” Kieran replied and his voice was uncharacteristically quiet. “I’ve read legend after legend, history after history, and never heard a whisper of someone like you. Everyone else has depended on actual people flocking to their cause, but not you. Somehow you’ve tapped into a different way to attract moidin.”

  “How much do Sawyer and Elyssa know about my powers?” she asked.

  “Next to nothing, and that’s why they’re so scared of you,” Kieran replied. “They sensed your power the moment they got into town, but they didn’t get a taste of it until Ashburn. You took them on single-handedly last time—and fought them to a draw.”

  “He didn’t seem scared of me when he attacked Purcellville,” Kate said.

  “Oh, that’s exactly what he was,” Kieran replied. “Why else didn’t he ride out to meet you? He burned the place and fled. There’s no doubt in my mind he’s spooked. And who knows just how far your power goes?”

  Kate paused for a minute, looking carefully at Kieran.

  “Do you know how far it goes?” she asked.

  Kieran shrugged.

  “Well, your cennad is the banshee, which can scream, turn incorporeal and call the dead. But using your abilities drains your power. Halloween is the height of your gifts, but they aren’t limitless.”

  “But Sawyer and Elyssa face that problem too,” Kate said.

  “Sure, but don’t forget: they are more powerful than you,” he said.

  He held up his hands when Kate started to object.

  “It’s a fact, not a judgment,” he said. “They defeated two Princes already, remember? With each year they survived, they’ve grown more powerful. They’ll have more energy to draw on, just trust me.”

  He could almost see the wheels turning in her head. She was deciding whether she could trust him. For a moment, he thought about cutting her off, telling her she couldn’t. He liked Kate and Quinn. He didn’t want to, but there it was.

  “Do you know what ‘You are the last’ means?’” she asked finally.

  “I’m sorry?”

  “Zora put it in a note. She wrote, ‘You are the last,’” she said.

  Kieran considered this. He truthfully had no idea what she was talking about.

  “Sorry, I don’t know,” he said. “But other than myself, Carol knew more about the whole Prince of Sanheim business than anyone else. She may have found something I missed.”

  “And you killed her,” Kate said.

  “We’ve been over this,” Kieran replied. “I’d say I’m sorry, but what good would it do?”

  He shrugged and Kate felt like hitting him for his casualness. It was as if he spilled milk on the floor, for all it meant to him. Still, she let it go. He was useful to her, for now.

  “Your turn,” Kieran said. “Why here? Why aren’t we in a cemetery? Isn’t that where the dead people are?”

  Kate pointed at the landscape in front of her.

  “Look around,” she said. “What do you see?”

  Kieran made a show of scoping out the field.

  “Trees,” he said. “Rocks, grass. I see this cannon here. So what?”

  “What do you feel?”

  “Uh, a little chilly?” Kieran replied after a moment. “And hungry, now that you mention it.”

  Kate gave him a cold look.

  “Is that really all you can feel?” she asked dismissively. “I thought you were supposed to be this great psychic.”

  Kieran actually felt his pride wounded a little bit. He closed his eyes and concentrated. At first he could feel nothing. Then, slowly he could hear the sound of the cannon roaring, men screaming. He heard the sounds of death.

  “Bloody hell,” he said.

  Kate didn’t ask him what he sensed—she didn’t have to.

  “It’s not just people who remember, it’s places,” Kate said. “I understand that now. Our past is what shapes us, defines us. It’s what gives us power. And this place is full of power.”

  Kieran’s eyes snapped open. He had experienced the equivalent before, maybe two decades ago when he visited Culloden Moor, the site of a famous battle in Scotland. What he remembered most was the immense feeling of sadness that lingered there.

  “I hear you,” he said. “What I don’t understand is how it’s going to help you.”

  Kate just smiled enigmatically at him. Ever since her talk with Terry Jacobsen, she had known she would come here. The only question was how to draw Sawyer and Elyssa to the spot—and there must be some way to do that. Everything turned on whether she had learned the lessons of Ashburn well enough. But for once, she knew she was in exactly the right place.

  “You’ll see,” she replied. “It’s going to make all the difference. It’s how we’re going to win this th
ing.”

  Chapter 33

  For the first time in days, Quinn moved without pain. He stepped out of the shower and studied himself in the mirror. His skin had a pinkish tinge, but otherwise it appeared new and healthy. There was no trace of the burns he had received a week earlier.

  The constant fatigue was also gone. Just two days ago, he couldn’t go four hours without a nap—most likely because his body was spending all its energy rebuilding itself. Now he was refreshed, vibrant.

  He felt like a new man.

  He pulled on some clothes and walked down the hallway. He went to the kitchen and got himself a Coke.

  Quinn waited for the door to open. He hadn’t gone with Kate and Kieran on their scouting mission because he wanted to do some more research on Aillen/Sawyer, but Kate had filled him in as she drove home.

  Her plan was sound. It might not work, but it seemed like the only shot they had.

  Kate opened the door and found Quinn waiting for her by the door. She kissed him on the lips and he was surprised by the intensity of it. She had been depressed and angry after the destruction of Purcellville. But there was something different there now—a fierce desire. It wasn’t for him, he knew. It was for revenge. But it seemed to liven her up just the same.

  Kieran followed in behind Kate and sighed loudly in disgust when he saw them kissing. Kate pointedly ignored him.

  “I bought a map,” Quinn said when they broke apart.

  He pointed to the dining room table where a topographical map of Loudoun County lay.

  Kate explained her strategy and the location where they had scouted.

  “They’ll never agree to meet us where we want to go,” Kate said. “We have to find a way to lure them there.”

  “I was mulling that over on the car ride back,” Kieran said. “Sawyer’s weakness is his pride. He’s clearly waiting for tomorrow to strike. You can wait for him to strike and try to lure him back or… you can challenge him.”

  “Challenge Sawyer to a duel?” Kate asked. “You really think that macho male shit works?”

  “Macho male shit is what Sawyer is all about, Kate,” Kieran said. “He’s old school. Ever notice how he talks to Elyssa? He is not an enlightened 21st century man. He was born sometime in the 1870s, and he’s a product of his time. The duel idea will appeal to him.”