“What prisoners did you free? Witches?”
“Nah. I don’t care much for witches. A pair of small forest fae. A pair of mixed-breeds—half brownie, half pixie.”
“Royal and Shakes?” I asked.
“You know them?” she asked, her brows shooting up.
“They thought I was you. They helped me escape the wolves.”
“Ah. Well, the wolves have cause to be angry with that pair, I guess. They’re free fae, those two, but all fae in the isles have to pay a tithe to the Seelie queen. The wolves have antique coins. And those two steal a few each year to pay their tithe. The wolves finally caught them. They had them in a glass case, pinned down with iron pins through the wings and wrists so they couldn’t use faery magic to disappear. To pierce a faery’s wrist with iron is bad enough, but a pixie’s wings are as delicate as spiderwebs. It’s a brutal punishment to poke anything through their wings.” She frowned. “They aren’t mine to protect. Not Seelie. Just minor creatures the queen wouldn’t pay for with even copper coin,” she said, shrugging. “But they’re fae just the same. And only small.” She tilted her head. “I’m not a knight, but sometimes I get a notion to protect creatures as can’t protect themselves. It’s a weakness. Like the heel of Achilles. You’ll know that story?”
I nodded. “I have that same Achilles’ heel, and there’s nothing wrong with us. It’s how folks should be. It’s the bullies who are in the wrong. You did right saving those little faeries.”
She smiled, a little shyly, then shrugged. “We used to be protectors way, way back. The Seelie were. But not anymore.” She shook her head. “None can be trusted in the Never. Not now.”
“That’s maybe true until we get there. But once we’re inside, it’ll be different. You can trust me. And Momma. Hopefully Caedrin, too. It’ll be all right.”
“Don’t pledge to her. That’s the one thing you must not do. You ken?”
I tilted my head. “Ken?”
“Sorry. Do you understand me? Don’t pledge your loyalty to the queen. If you do, she’ll never let you leave. And she could command you to betray anyone.”
My brows shot up. “I won’t betray my people for her or anybody. Not ever.”
Kismet nodded with a slowly spreading smile. “You’re softer than me on the outside. But inside, we’re just the same. Don’t let her know it. Not till it’s too late.”
“Too late?” I asked, but Kismet had turned back to face the road and was directing Zach into the Irish town of Killarney.
He found Kerry General Hospital, and we took Bryn to the accident-and-emergency unit. The lady doctor there said Bryn’s throat was so infected he needed to stay in the hospital in case he got an abscess that needed surgery. But he agreed only to take a shot of antibiotics, some fluids, and a shot for the swelling and inflammation. He could hardly talk, so he wrote a note saying he wouldn’t stay, but would come back if he wasn’t better by morning. She argued with him, and both Zach and I thought he should just stay overnight, but Bryn can be really stubborn.
“How come you won’t stay?” I said, frowning at him.
He just shook his head.
“Why not?” I demanded.
He wrote, Don’t like hospitals.
“You don’t have to be scared. I’ll stay right with you,” I said.
That made him smile and put an arm around my shoulders. He gave me a squeeze, but shook his head.
I rolled my eyes at Zach. “He’s not staying.”
“If he stops breathing from that swollen throat, he’ll be sorry there’s no professional to make a neat hole in his neck,” Zach said. “’Cause if you and I have to do it, it’ll be a bloody mess.”
“Don’t talk like that!” I snapped. “He’s not going to need any holes in his neck.” I gave Bryn a sideways glance. He couldn’t even swallow his own spit at the moment. And when he breathed it caused a whistling sound that made the doctor’s hair stand up. My own throat felt tight, too, like something was caught in it. Like it was closing and by morning I wouldn’t be able to breathe.
I ran a hand through my hair nervously.
“You heard what that doctor said,” Zach said.
“Just hush. His throat doesn’t need to get ideas about closing up. He’s got medicine now.” I frowned at Bryn and whispered, “If your throat tries to choke you, and Zach has to use his pocketknife to save you, I’m gonna be really mad.”
Bryn shook his head.
“You’d better be okay. That’s all I’m saying.”
Bryn pressed a kiss to the side of my head, but I noticed the way he held the rail tight to get down the steps. He was pretty weak. I thought about Kismet saying she’d shoot Poppy if she saw her again. I decided maybe I wouldn’t stop her. Poppy wasn’t my favorite Conclave member anymore.
* * *
WE WENT TO a very nice hotel on the lake. The girl at the front desk was so sweet. Bryn pressed a credit card into my hand and wrote me a note to get three rooms. Normally Bryn takes care of things, but he looked pale and tired when he sat on a bench. And he was still having trouble talking.
I started to get three rooms, but Zach came up behind me and said in his low drawl, “One room. Strength in numbers.”
I grimaced, knowing Bryn wouldn’t want them in our room, but also knowing Zach was right. And it was only for a few hours. I got a suite with two big beds and a couch. My jaw dropped at the price, but I bit my lip and slid the card across the desk.
“May I see your ID? And can you sign your card, please?”
I pulled the card back to me and flipped it over. I walked to Bryn with a pen. “New card, huh? You forgot to sign the back.”
“Your card. You sign,” he said, then closed his eyes.
“My . . . ” I stared at him. He’d picked this moment to give me the card. A time when he was sick and probably knew I wouldn’t argue. Bryn’s real rich. And I’ve told him I don’t plan on spending his money. But we kind of disagree about that. He wants me to feel like we’re together in everything. Only he made all his millions before he met me, so that doesn’t exactly seem fair to me. And I don’t want people thinking I got together with him for his loot.
“Sneaky timing. You are such a lawyer sometimes,” I whispered in my own raspy voice. “We’re gonna have a fight about this later. Just so you know.”
Bryn gave me a thumbs-up, which struck me as absurd, so I laughed. He smiled, too, without opening his eyes. I went back to the desk and signed the back and showed my passport and driver’s license. The girl checked, and I was authorized to use the account, so she gave me keys with a smile.
I glanced up, right into Zach’s shrewd eyes.
“I’m not keeping this card. It’s just practical tonight.”
“I didn’t say a thing.”
“But you thought something.”
“If you’re gonna take his name, might as well take his money and anything else he’s got. What’s the difference?”
“Here’s a key,” I said, holding it out.
Zach shook his head and walked to the bench. “Lyons, can you stand or what?”
Bryn shrugged, but opened his eyes and put a hand on the arm of the bench and forced himself up. He stood, steady enough, and nodded.
“Lead the way,” Zach said to me. I noticed that he stayed close to Bryn, and I had to give Zach credit. A part of him would’ve liked to beat Bryn to a pulp for getting engaged to me. But another part of him was man enough to hold back that urge and even put our personal stuff aside while we were facing greater threats.
“I’m proud of you, Zach,” I said when we got into the room.
“If I were going to kill your asshole fiancé, do you think I’d let you see me do it?” he asked when Bryn was lying on his back on the bed. Bryn flipped his middle finger up. Presumably it was meant to be directed at Zach, but Zach had moved, so Bryn
just flipped off the bathroom door. I didn’t tell him.
I got a cool washcloth and put it over Bryn’s brows and eyes. I knew to do it because my forehead ached and my eyes burned. When sweat popped up on the back of my neck, at least I knew our fever had broken.
Zach took a pack of cards from his bag, and he and Kismet played poker until Bryn’s breathing got easier and he fell asleep. Then Kismet ordered Zach to take the bed, since it was bigger, like him.
On his way to the bed, he stopped by her pack.
“Fancy arrows,” he said, peering inside. That made me walk over.
Kismet took out an arrow and handed it to him to examine.
“It’s oak with silver wrapping around it and an iron tip,” she said.
“What are these symbols?” Zach asked, pointing to the shallow carvings on the shaft near the tip.
“There’s a different type of poison painted in each mark. When the arrow enters, the poison mixes with the target’s blood and gets absorbed. These arrows will kill witches, banshees, vampires, fae, werewolves, and merrows. There is very little that it won’t kill. Only zombies and a few mostly dead creatures wouldn’t be felled by this type of arrow from my bow.”
She ran a finger along the silver. “My first foster da was a smithy. He made me one hundred of these assassin’s arrows. He gifted me the first ten when the queen sent me out on my first mission alone. He said, ‘In every battle to the death, may you be the survivor. These are for that . . . to protect your life. Be worthy of them, Kismet. Be deadly, lest you be the one lying dead.’”
She took the arrow and tucked it back into the quiver.
“He must love you a lot,” I said.
“No, but I think he’s proud of me now. Finally. As a little one I was a burden. Rebellious. He was paid to keep me, but even gold and magic weren’t payment enough early on. He tried to get rid of the responsibility. Eventually he did give me away to foster with another. I’ve laid my head many places.”
“He gave you away?” I asked, suddenly furious. “And what were you doing with him, anyway? Why didn’t you live with our dad?”
“The golden knight?” She clucked her tongue. “Not good enough for him. He didn’t claim me. Never has. Even now that I know who I am to him.”
My fists balled. How must Kismet have felt growing up? Unclaimed and unwanted? How could he do that to a little girl? His own flesh and blood!
“He wants only her. Our mother. No one else means anything to him. Except perhaps the queen. But even that is just duty, I think.” She shrugged. “I don’t care.”
Of course you do, I thought. “Well, I do care. Shame on him. Shame on all of them.” I bit down on my lip to keep tears from welling up in my eyes. “You should’ve been with us,” I whispered fiercely.
She smiled. “I’ve heard tell of the bond between twins. It’s why I looked for you. So I wouldn’t be alone anymore. So I’d be half of two.”
I nodded. “Yep,” I said, squeezing her arm. “There are two of us now. For as long as we live.”
Her smile faded. “Those that hunt you should be wary. I don’t miss my target except by choice. And I’ll prize your life above any other.”
A shadow passed behind her eyes. I saw the savage child and the cold assassin. I recognized her. Many times when my fae nature had taken over, there had been a cool calculation to it. Its conscience had felt numb and unformed. I saw a glimpse of that remorseless nature in Kismet. She wouldn’t protect me out of love. She didn’t know me well enough yet to love me. What she knew was that she didn’t want to be alone. She would kill to keep the sister she wanted. I shivered, feeling I should explain to her that she’d understand about love eventually, but she walked away. She dropped onto the couch, fluffed the pillow beneath her head, and closed her eyes to sleep. The threats she made didn’t trouble her. Would they ever? I hoped so. It would be hard to keep her from killing people if she didn’t learn to care about them.
“What do you think, Merc?” I asked softly as he paced the room. I opened the balcony door. “Wanna go have a look around?”
Merc meowed but didn’t go out. That made me uneasy. Was he staying close because an outside threat was on its way . . . or did he sense trouble in our midst? Zach and Bryn could certainly end up at each other’s throats if they weren’t watched. The peace between them wasn’t easy by any means. But it was Kismet, willowy and slight on the couch, who worried me the most.
Still, she was my own sister. For better or worse, we were family forever. I bent and kissed her forehead.
Mercutio eyed me curiously.
“So you’re gonna stay here, huh?” I ran a hand through my hair. “Wake me then, if there’s trouble.”
Merc meowed that he would.
I sighed and lay down. I tried to stay awake, but I’d had so little sleep since leaving Duvall that I couldn’t.
I don’t know how long I was out before Merc’s yowl woke me and everyone in the room.
Bryn sat up, his damp hair flat on one side and pushed up on the other. His eyes were unnaturally bright as he looked around.
Mercutio meowed and padded back and forth near the door.
“What?” Zach demanded, putting a hand on his chest over the amulet under his T-shirt.
“You’re right, Mercutio. I feel it,” Bryn said. His voice had returned to normal strength, though it was still a bit hoarse. He glanced at Zach, then looked at me. “There are at least five wizards. They have the hotel surrounded.”
16
I WAS USED to fighting with only Mercutio for company and often against terrible odds. Having a whole group to face the current trouble amazed me. I had a gun and some magic, albeit broken; Zach had a gun and his protective amulet; Bryn can wield his magic as a weapon; and Kismet had her bow and dagger and a wealth of experience.
We divided so that Zach went out the front, Kismet went out the back toward the lake, and Bryn and I took the west side.
The steady drizzle blew against us, drenching our clothes. It was dark enough that I didn’t spot Lundqvist, the weather wizard, when we approached him.
Bryn grabbed my arm, and I felt his magic gather and pulse. The blast of magic from Lundqvist seared my skin. It would blister, but the frigid wind and rain took away the burn’s bite. Despite his having just been down with fever and dehydration, Bryn’s magic was sharp and strong. He flung it at Lundqvist, who scowled and shouted curses and spells.
Bryn defended us with magic, putting up barriers, but the storm fueled Lundqvist, and eventually small cracks in the shield allowed the scalding magic to get through. He’d heated the rain so that it struck like boiling water popping from a pot.
I didn’t want to kill Lundqvist, but twice we’d escaped the Conclave operatives, only to have them chase us some more. What if they pursued us right to the Never? Or prevented us from getting inside?
Another bucketful of water without the bucket flew toward us. Bryn flung up an invisible wall of magic, and the water splashed against it, steam rising. Scattered droplets made it through to scald our skin.
Bryn shook his head. “He’s feeding off the storm, and I’m not at my strongest. We need cover.”
“Take power from me,” I said, grabbing his neck and pulling him in for a kiss. Bryn’s mouth didn’t taste like him. I could still taste infection on his breath, which made me gag. He drew magic into him in a sharp intake and then spun to cast more spells. Under Lundqvist’s constant assault, we didn’t have much time to smooch so Bryn could draw power.
The flying rain’s temperature changed. Instead of heat, Lundqvist worked with the weather. Hail pelted us. One ball of ice struck my skull hard enough to raise a knot on my head.
“Damn it!” I yelled. I dived forward under the edge of Bryn’s barrier. Popping up onto one knee, I whipped out my gun and squeezed off two rounds.
Lundqvist yelled and went
down. I’d shot in the middle of each thigh. I could tell by his screams that at least one, probably both bullets had broken through bone. He wouldn’t be chasing anyone for a while. Midthigh wounds don’t usually bleed too much, so hopefully they wouldn’t be fatal, no matter how long it took for help to reach him.
“In high winds and near dark, with water and hail making it almost impossible to see, you hit a moving target. Twice.” He shook his head. “They talk about training you, Tamara, but why would you need it?”
I smiled. Bryn is impressive, so I love when I impress him.
I grabbed his arm and pulled him in a wide arc so we could reach the back of the hotel without passing close to Lundqvist, who was casting spells with wild fury.
Bryn licked his lips as we hurried across the grass. “You’re a natural with a weapon. I wonder if that’s spillover.”
I cocked my head. “What do you mean?”
“I think you have some synergy with your sister. Her skills spill over into you.”
“Wonder if it’ll be the same for her. Imagine if she could make cherries jubilee or a chocolate mocha soufflé without ever reading a recipe. Now, those are skills to be proud of,” I said, and winked.
Bryn laughed, but the humor drained away when we spotted a figure down on the ground. She lay about thirty feet in front of half-crumbled rock ruins that edged the lake at the very back of the property.
I spotted Zach, sprinting across the grass. He skidded to a stop on his knees next to her. Bryn and I rushed to them.
Poppy writhed on the ground, mud covered, with an arrow sticking out of her chest just under the collarbone.
“Can’t breathe,” she said with a breathless gasp.
Zach grabbed the shaft of the arrow and tugged it gently.
Poppy screeched.
“Hang on, darlin’,” Zach said in a soothing voice. “This thing’s poison. It’s got to come out.” He looked up. “C’mere, Tammy Jo. Hold her arms.”
I knelt on the ground and grabbed Poppy’s hands. Looking at Bryn, I asked, “Can you do anything? To help ease her pain?”
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