“I’m upset because it’s my fault.” I glared at Marinette. “Breandan had every right to protect his heart.” I straightened. “And when I return to him I’ll apologise, and try to win him back.”
“What do you think, phantom?” Seemingly bored, Marinette straddled a werewolf’s back. Placing her chin between the twin triangles of it ears she languidly stroked its muzzle. “Do you think she should pin her hopes and dreams on the male who renounced her? I don’t.”
Tomas stared at me as if he desired nothing more than to agree. His thumb rubbed my wrist over my pulse. “No,” he whispered, “is what I want to say. The truth? Her chosen mate will take her back. I wish it was me she cried for.”
Marinette puffed. “How dismal.” She lifted a hand, and everybody but me, Tomas, Damballah and Malice flinched. Cael retreated too before remembering himself. That alone told me all I needed to know about the godling. “If you’re not going to be the menace I thought your usefulness has come to an end.”
“Wait.” Slipping off Malice’s lap, Gwendolyn looked startled to have shouted. She withered under the loa’s red glare and knelt in supplication, nervously licking her lips. “I want him back.”
“Still?” Marinette asked, bemused. She turned a considering eye on Tomas. It swept lavishly over his body. “Perhaps I misjudged your worth.”
Kneeling, Malice pushed off from the bare-branched tree he leaned against and stood. “Give him to her.”
“I’ve known you forever, Ti Malis. You’re a brother to me, but even families destroy each other.”
“Threats already?” Smirking, Malice ambled up to her. He took the time to swig from a bottle that appeared in a swirl of purple smoke. Amber liquid dribbled unheeded down his chin to drip onto his chest. “You know as well as I do we balance a scale.” They locked gazes. “You and I can fight, but it would be for eternity.”
She thrust her face in his. “I would annihilate you.”
“Then you bring about your end.” Damballah eased between them, glowing, his bone staff in hand. Brows drawn, he took a crunching bite of apple. “I have no wish to walk a single path.”
“Meaning he’d obliterate us to stay neutral.” Malice grinned at her frustration then the smile died. “Give him to her. Now.”
Feigning disinterest, Marinette spun from both loa, the ends of her hair slapping across Damballah’s chest. “Fine.”
Tomas tightened his grip on my wrist. “Rae–”
“S’okay. Go. I’m … good.” My emotions were running high, and hopelessness over Cael threatened to have me bursting into tears, again, but I was holding my own well enough. “Go on.”
He leaned to whisper in my ear. “I will return. I need to see what Gwen has foreseen.” He frowned, troubled, but let me go to rush to Gwendolyn and drag her from sight.
Marinette circled me, pacing round and around. Brushing her fingers against my skin, she shivered. “Life pours from you. It suffocates me.”
“I sense you too.”
“Feel good?”
“No.”
She giggled. “I like you.”
“Sorry, but the feeling is not mutual.” I gave up trying to follow her with my eyes and instead frowned at Malice and Damballah who shared a deep look then edged closer. “I’ve met creatures who’ve done bad things, but you are altogether evil.”
“You define me as evil because I killed a few witches? Borrowed a few shapeshifters? Raised the restless dead?” She rubbed her lip, smiling wickedly. “You’ve killed.”
“To defend people I love.” I met her formidable gaze. “I’m nothing like you. Neither is my brother. Let him go.”
“Ah, but I’m evil. Why would I do that?”
“His heart isn’t in this, and you need surrender from your acolytes.”
“Indeed.” She studied me. “That’s why I’m stronger than you.”
“I’m not here to fight.”
“Oh, I know.” She laughed, her eyes stony. “If you were I would destroy you.”
“Why haven’t you?” Cael asked.
“It pleases me to corrupt pretty things.” Marinette fingered my hair. “And of course my consort’s power is directly linked to hers.”
I frowned sharply. “He’s not yours.”
“He’s not yours. He didn’t follow you did he?”
“No,” I whispered. Foggy, I shook my head. “He wasn’t supposed to.”
“But you wanted him to.” Marinette continued her measured pacing. “That’s what a besotted male would do. The reality of being mates did not match the dream. Perhaps, it was too much for him to endure.” Marinette clasped her hands together, her eyes wide and soft. “You must have doubts.”
A gathering of dark energy charged the air.
My own pushed against it, and my shoulders drooped. “Please stop whatever you’re doing. I just want Cael and to go home.”
“Life is a constant battle,” Damballah murmured, taking my hand. He led me to his apple tree and lowered, tugging me with him.
Uneasy, I sat, starting when Malice knelt and took my other hand. He patted it soothingly.
“Each time I think I win it gets harder,” I said more to myself than them.
“It is endless,” Marinette mused, crouching, staring into my eyes. “And being as you are it will become more difficult.” Her gaze deepened. “You will even come to appreciate the eons you spend resting.”
“What are you doing?” Cael demanded.
“This way she lives,” Malice whispered.
Their power washed over me. Rather than resisting I embraced it. I wasn’t afraid, but curious. It didn’t hurt. It felt like going to sleep. I blinked, slow, so slow it seemed an age before my lashes lifted. My heartbeat boomed in my ears, and the world dimmed. The air felt warmer, snug. My breathing turned shallow and faint. The Loa forced me to rest. Breandan wasn’t waiting for me. Cael didn’t want to come home, and with the knowledge I’d return to the Wyld and face disappointment from the people I cared about, I didn’t see the point in fighting it.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Cael
The screaming stopped. Finally. The tension thrumming between my eyes eased, and my shoulders lowered from around my ears.
Marinette kept the dying members of my Coven alive for as long as possible. She wrung despair then ended their torment with deceptively elegant hands.
The haunting cries of my Children thawed the fragile ice around my heart leaving cold water in its wake.
Then Rae arrived.
Disturbing.
With excruciating ease, Marinette debased her bravery and picked clean the bones of her shattered hopes. I’d expected hatred from the gold eyes that looked to me for help. They’d held no accusations. Even as her hopeless expression made known she considered me aligned with the Loa.
Constrained by the revelation Marinette would crush me if I stepped out of line, I’d been unable to express my desire to the contrary. Seething, silent, I watched Rae crumble under the verbal assault then was put to sleep.
Fires kindled beneath my noiseless brooding. Here marks the line I won’t cross.
The phantom hovered close. He touched Rae’s pulse at her wrist, and whispered how furious her mate would be if she died. After the first day, he became angry, and destroyed the flowering vines creeping over her still form before disappearing for hours then returning to sit and talk until his voice became hoarse.
Originally I too stood guard and watched Marinette continue her irrational massacre. I’d hoped to teach myself a lesson and prove a point to the loa. Marinette had had the last laugh. She plunged her thumbs into the eye sockets of a Son I’d favoured and gouged until the bulbous masses popped into her palms. Shaking with rage, I’d conceded defeat and fled the scene. Falling to my knees I’d lost the contents of my stomach in the stagnant brook that once bubbled as a clean spring. The bog was merely one of the beautiful things I’d created and lost since the Loa arrived at my refuge.
“Please don’t
leave us.”
Tears wet Naomi’s cheeks. She gripped my hand, pulling me from my forbidding contemplation of what must be done.
The proud witch showed no weakness before our Coven’s brutal culling. Now she blubbered and wailed at shadows and foreign noises.
“It’s been days.” I pried her hands loose. “She hasn’t moved or spoken. Not even that bothersome phantom coaxes a reaction.”
“Isn’t that what you wanted?” Naomi asked. “Rae dead and gone? This is as good as that. I don’t understand.”
Explaining the radical flip in my perspective, and what the girl sitting in the middle of my dying Wyld meant to me would boggle my Daughter’s mind.
I settled for a placating, “Hush. I must go.”
“Where?” Her voice turned shrill. “Who will help us? All demonkind fears and hates us. We toiled to make it so.”
My mouth burned as I spoke the truth. “My fairy kin will help.”
She sulkily jerked into the cushions. “You’re abandoning us.”
“Raj will stay with you.”
“Raj will stay?” The vampire-boy echoed.
“Such powerful protection,” Naomi muttered.
Pegging the snide remark as an outlet of fear, I ignored it. “In return he will drink from you.”
“More? He’s been tapping my vein for days.”
“He must remain well fed to perform at full strength.” I eyed her. She was pale but well enough to donate. My other Daughters suffered catatonia. “You forget why we starved them in the first place. The hunger makes them vicious, but physically weaker. Raj must be strong to at least help you run from danger.”
Her feverish eyes turned hot with desperation. “Take us with you.”
Before she latched on again, I stood. “I’ve purged the iron from my blood and will skim air most of the distance. Are you strong enough to make the journey?”
“No.”
“Then you stay.” I ruffled Raj’s auburn mop. “I’m trusting you.”
“Nothin’ will happen if we stay quiet.” He eyeballed Naomi then directed a timid look at me. Shuffled on the spot. “You’ll come back?”
“This is my city. I will return.”
“With help?”
“Correct.” My eyes narrowed. “One way or another.”
Raj scratched his head, squinting. “How long will ya be gone?”
“Four days.”
His eyes widened. “So long?”
“I’ll reach the closest fairy Wyld in a day, but it’s unlikely they’ll have the skill to follow with the same speed after I convince them to come.”
“So sure they’ll listen to you,” Naomi mumbled. “We’ll be lucky if Rae’s consort doesn’t rip out your guts.”
I shut down further grumblings with a cold look. “Be safe. I return directly.”
With that, I left my Wyld. While I wouldn’t vociferously declare leaving, there’d be no furtive sneaking. I do not sneak. I progressed through my city without hindrance. Sensing the presence of a vampire tailing me, I hesitated. The bloodsuckers feared me, but did they fear Marinette more? Would this unknown sentry run to her and reveal I left?
No point worrying. Marinette will question Raj and Naomi. If they’re killed, they are killed.
Burying remorse at the thought of baby faced Raj suffering, I drew on the Source, a multicoloured sun I found cool to touch, addicting, forever teasing the edges of my vision.
Time and space distorted as I bent it to my will. This was a skill my mother possessed and passed to me. If she were alive what wonders she would have taught me. Her mastery of this ability was so strong she had stepped outside of time.
As I travelled, aware of the moonrise, its fall, and the sun’s eventual breaking of the dawn, my mind drifted. Rae and Conall must possess this talent too. If latent I could teach them. The wayward thoughts stunned me so deeply I stammered, stumbled, and dropped my hold on the Source.
And landed in the middle of nowhere.
Inhaling, I heaved, and threw up a little in my mouth at the musky scent of shifter. I opened my eyes and critically eyed the rolling plains of tall, rose gold grass.
It wasn’t alarming when the grass ahead then to my left stirred.
The broad-headed arrow that punctured my side as I stood contemplating the refreshingly flat landscape did startle me.
I hissed, sucking air at the sharp burst of pain.
Clasping the hardwood shaft, I scrutinised the delicate construction then huffed. The arrow had buried well past the spine. I fingered the feathered fletching with curiosity. What is a Tribal fairy doing at the shifter Pride?
Dark movement among the tall grass drew my attention. I remained composed as a cloaked figure advanced towards me, a bow gripped tightly in one hand.
Judging by the archer’s liquid movement, long hair and armoured trousers, I guessed the fairy female was sent here as an ambassador on behalf of the High Lord.
She smoothly notched another arrow and a gust of wind blew back her cloak.
Genuine surprise lifted my brows. I distinguished who she was, her importance, and how her fortuitous presence would serve me.
Snapping the arrow shaft in half, I gripped the shortened wood and ripped it from my flesh. I studied the broken arrowhead. The damn thing shattered on impact leaving pieces behind when I removed it.
The dull throbbing at my side increased to lightning bolts of pain stabbing my innards. The little fool shot me with iron. Hell. “I need to find Conall.”
Her elegant stride did not falter though her scarlet irises flickered in recognition. Her mouth bowed in displeasure. “Leave.” The high tenor of her voice didn’t match the environment.
The prairie was ferociously hot during the summer and bitingly cold throughout the winter season. Creatures that flourished here would be as hostile and tough as the land.
The fairy’s green skin and red hair named her a descendant of the old bloodlines. Rare. Delicate. Better suited to the temperate tranquillity of the forests and crisp beauty of the woods.
Yet here she stood among the low shrubs and coarse grasses defiantly aiming an arrow at my neck as the pungent scent of shifter wafted up my nostrils and tickled the back of my throat making my gag reflex work double time.
No doubt the female could draw, notch and release arrow before the earlier projectile skewered her intended mark. I’d witnessed decapitation by arrows fired from her bow. Does she know who I am? The steely look of distain casting a heartless edge to her soft features hinted she might. An archer of aptitude, but difficult to appreciate when you’re a potential recipient of the masterful skill.
“No,” I drawled in belated response to her demand and motioned lazily at the rippling plains around us beneath smoky blue skies. “I choose to stay.”
She widened her stance and brought the loaded weapon perpendicular to the ground, fluidly drawing back her string elbow. Her body relaxed, languid in readiness. The anchor point was uniquely not her cheek, but her sharply pointed ear.
Her slow exhale, and a slight squint of slanted eyes gave her away.
Such admirable force expelled when she relaxed her fingers. The upper and lower limbs of the bow wobbled as the string twanged, loosing tension, and the arrow shaft curved to slither past its rest. The fletching clipped her finger sending the arrow into a spin-in-flight.
The projectile was on target to lance my neck.
My breathing slowed as I adjusted my footing. My focus narrowed to nothing but the deadly arrow whistling through the air.
I snatched it from its path and let it fall harmlessly to the ground. I spun to dodge the second, my cloak whipping out behind me. It missed tearing through my jugular by a hair. The sneaky third grazed my carotid. I disintegrated the forth arrow whilst sending the hellion airborne with a rashly conjured burst of offensive magics.
Keyed up, my destructive nature ever spoiling for a challenge, I was quite energized, if a smidgen contrite I’d hit her so hard.
I stiffened.
Since when do I care if I harm a fairy?
The werepanther tackled me with the intention of ripping my throat out.
I’d been aware of its progress since I’d slowed my skimming to take stock of my journey’s progress.
Using the ancient technique, I’d traversed two full day’s worth of travel in one, and though tiring, I swiftly recovered.
Consequently, the shifter leaping at me managed to wrap its maw around my forearm, but not the flesh it truly desired. Razor-sharp teeth tore into my arm attempting to maul the limb into pulp. His paws clawed at me in frenzy, scratching deep furrows into my thighs that welled with blood.
I lost my temper and wrestled him to the ground. If I’m not mistaken, I restrain an Alpha. How timely.
“Stop.” The fairy was on her knees, arrow notched, and fearful expression creasing in pure terror. Not for herself, but the creature abruptly pliant beneath my hand at the sound of her voice. “Do not kill him.”
“You must realise if I’d come to slay you, you’d already be dead?” At her panicked lip licking, I decided the shifter would show better sense then the fairy. “I’m going to release you,” I murmured. “Attack unprovoked and I will kill her then you. My generosity stretches only so far. Do not push me. I am sure to break.”
With a final warning hiss, I let go.
The Alpha growled as he rolled away, gained his paws, and lowered threateningly. His tail cracked side to side. The green of his eyes blazed anger and eerily glowed.
I know those eyes.
“We’ve fought before.” At ease, I straightened, confident I’d come closer to achieving my goal. “You know my sister.”
The shifter snarled.
Whiskers quivering, its face wrinkled as it bared pink gums and teeth.
I chuckled at the animal equivalent of, “Go to hell,” and brushed loose sward from my tunic. It needed replacing. The rich fabric looked shabby. “I don’t have time for this. I remember you, and you no doubt recall who I am. You want to hear what I have to say.” I gave him an easy smile. “Trust me.”
Summon (Rae Wilder) Page 20
