by Laney McMann
His eyes dart toward the corner of the darkened room where another figure sits hidden in shadow. “The Tuatha Dé Danaan will pay for such deception. Gather our forces. I will ally the boy with the Fomore. He will help us in the destruction of the World of Light and all who stand to protect them—including his Twin Soul. We will see that the Morrigan’s curse is fulfilled.” The King pauses, staring into the fire. “I wonder if the Morrigan knew she cursed her own blood to death?” His thin mouth curls into a wicked grin. “MacKenzie believing he was shielding Teine from the enemy. Never knowing the enemy was himself.” His laugh booms. “Such fools the Tuatha Dé Danaan are.” His dark eyes glance back to the corner of the room. “You have aided me well.”
The figure walks from the shadows, his face bathed in fire light.
“Just repaying my debt,” says Sam.
• • •
The vision broke in a blast of light, my head reeling, chest aching. My arms and legs hung heavy as lead at my sides, and I searched frantically around.
Where am I?
I struggled with my limbs, attempting to sit upright as the bedroom swam into foggy view, as if I’d been shot with a tranquilizer dart.
“Max is the Fomore heir. It … can’t be.” Words slurred from my mouth, and I shook my head as though it would somehow dislodge the vision.
Sam.
A familiar shuffling moved somewhere near me, the drag of an uneven walk. Events fell into place like puzzle pieces, and I focused across the room. “Grandmother …”
She settled on the bed beside me.
“It can’t be true.”
She patted my arm. “On the contrary, child, it can and is.” She sighed. “MacKenzie is the heir to the throne of The Fomorians. He is the King’s only son.”
No.
My grandmother squeezed my knee. “Infants born unto the Tuatha De Danaan and Fomorian Kings and Queens pitted against each other. Raised to hate one another. A battle to the death, the Legend said. And so your father, choosing to intervene, hoping he could change fate and stop the curse placed upon you, forged the Tie.” She spoke with kindness. “I’m sorry to be the one to share these truths, but … you must know. It is best, at times, to see, rather than be told. You are here for answers, remember?”
I shook my head, eyes shut tight. “Not this … I’ve seen enough. I shouldn’t have left. I made a mistake.” I swung myself up, but my weighted body threw everything off balance and I collapsed on the floor.
“When you are ready, Kindred, you may leave.” My grandmother extended a hand, helping me up, her grip and strength far greater than I would have imagined. “You have much to learn.”
“I’m ready.” I fell face first on the bed.
“Hush now. Your body must be allowed to go through many changes during the rekindling—as unpleasant as some may be.” She settled me into bed. “You are not ready.”
I tried to understand her.
She smiled down at me like she would a child. “I did not lead you into the Underground to stop you from fighting against those who hunt you. You are here to learn, and learn you will. I have no use for secrets, and my daughter has kept you hidden long enough. I will prepare you for what is coming.”
The ancient woman sitting next to me with skin folded in leathery pleats, whitened eyes, and a gait that I doubted would be capable of outrunning anyone, planned to prepare me?
“Do not judge by your eyes, Kindred. Eyes lie.” She touched my chest with a gentle hand. “The heart is all that matters in this life. Trust it. I promise, it will not lead you astray. Rest now. You will need it.”
27
Sam sits alone with his head in his hands, at a table of crudely carved stone, its jagged edges snagging the cloth of his shirtsleeves. The fire in the hearth licks at him, threatening to set ablaze his entire being. Sweat drips from his brow, his temples, down his chin.
“Sir, it has begun.” The robed servant speaks. “Per your orders, the boundary lines have been breached. Our forces have moved in.”
Sam nods but doesn’t look up. “No one is to be harmed.” His low tone breaks at the command.
“Of that sir, we can make no promises. Our assailants are hunters, not retrievers.”
Sam lifts his head, his eyes tainted orange by the firelight glow. “Do not harm them!” His stone chair flies across the room, crashing into the opposite wall.
“Yes, sir.” The servant bows. “Unharmed.”
• • •
A gasp escaped my lungs and my eyelids fluttered, my skin crawling as my internal vision flickered like a light switch turning on and off.
••
Glass explodes through the house. Blackened, weather-beaten wings take shape. Metallic scales adorning serpent-like claws grasp shattered window frames amidst protruding shards of glass, and avian creatures rip them free from the house’s foundation.
Scarlet streaks across Max’s eye, blood trickling from a slash down the side of his face. “The boundary lines are breached!”
A second detonation rips the roof free. Tile shingles and wooden beams collapse through the ceiling as towering black reptilian birds of prey descend from the skies in a swarm, landing in the center of the house.
A myriad of tattered scales and feathers hang from their lithe bodies, the forced entry ravaging them.
Tristan lies gasping on the floor, buried beneath a fallen rafter, his leg crushed and twisted in a haphazard angle.
Justice yells, falling to his knees and cradling his brother’s head. “Max! Block the doorways!”
French doors careen through the family room, the sound of splitting wood rattling the house.
• • •
My eyes shifted again, moving my focus across the room as I writhed, debilitated. As if I’d contracted some incurable fever I couldn’t recover or wake from.
••
Devon saunters through the chaos, his glazed stare falling on a woman clad in high-heeled, brown leather boots that rose to her knees below an ivory mid-thigh dress. Light brown glossy hair tumbles down her back, accenting shimmering tawny skin and powder-pink lips.
With deep purple silken fairy wings fluttering at her sides and narrow hips swaying, she glances toward Justice but holds her hand out to Devon, as if she’s relishing in the madness before she moves closer to Max.
The crash of the ocean impedes her voice as she speaks, unrelenting gales shaking what’s left of the window frames, and ripping the back deck from its footers.
“You.” Max steps forward through the chaos.
Hints of red bleed through yellow green irises under her long brown lashes. “Miss me?”
Max’s perplexed gaze veers toward Devon, glancing back and forth between them as his chest rises and falls.
“You know each other, I believe?” She gestures toward Devon.
“What’re you doing here?” Max’s defenses seem to fade, replaced by shock as he faces her.
She shrugs. “I came for you, of course.” She raises a hand to the blinding wind still tearing through the house and causing mayhem, and feigns a shudder. “You are powerful. I’ve always liked that.” She tilts her head and grins.
“You did this?” A shadow of confusion clouds his wrinkled brow. “All of this has been you?”
She juts out a hip and gestures toward the reptilian assailants crowding into the house behind her. “Well … not everything. I’ve had some help.”
“Max, don’t talk to her!” Justice says.
A swift kick to the mouth by a black-winged serpent silences him She smirks, her eyes glinting as she holds up a hand. “Your friend needs to learn to be quiet. I can’t have his injuries on my conscious.” She laughs.
“Why are you doing this?” Max’s fists clench.
“I’m not the sharing type.” She shrugs. “I’m a Leanaan Sidhe. It’s my nature to be … possessive.” She winks. “Sorry I didn’t tell you, but as you can see, I’m not hiding behind Teine’s friend right now. What was her name a
gain?” She taps her finger on her forehead. “Oh, yes, Dena. Poor Dena wandering the beach all alone. No idea who she was.” Her heels rap the wooden floor as she moves closer. “Oh well. You always liked my true form, anyway.” Her wings flutter. “Do you like these, too?” She giggles, shifting her weight, wings quivering. “I wanted to tell you the truth about me … but, other people got in the way.” She pushes out her bottom lip.
Max’s eyes dart from her to Devon.
“You know I don’t care about him.” She inches forward, whispering. “There’s only you. Always you.”
“Don’t come any closer.” Max’s gaze lifts toward the ceiling.
Gleaming silvery eyes, like freshly minted coins, shine down through the roof’s gutted hole, where hooded cloaks mask the true forms of the beings standing there.
Max’s eyes widen. “You brought them?” Thunder claps overhead with a bellowing boom.
“Sort of.” She grins in a shy way.
Max’s brow furrows, and lightning strikes, illuminating more shadows on the roof top.
“Trying to scare me?” An uneasy chuckle escapes her.
Thunder pelts again. “I could ask you the same thing.”
“I’d rather not fight but … if you insist.” She snaps her finger.
Black wings swarm around Max.
Justice frantically tries to lift the framework pinning Tristan’s leg but has no luck.
Max glances toward the serpants circling him, hands opening and closing into fists. A kick to his ribs crunches bone. He follows with a cry of agony as he crumples to the floor.
Justice wails, leaving his brother, and collides into the assailant, his horns impaling a scaled hide, knocking them both off their feet, but he’s dragged to a standing position by a flurry of henchmen and held in a vice grip, tapered claws puncturing his throat.
“So unnecessary, all of this. A shame, really.” The Leanaan Sidhe frowned.
A roar of wind launches her into the living room wall, skull cracking against plaster.
Max leans back, gripping his ribs, blood seeping through his shirt. “I don’t know what you’re after, but this is over.”
The Vampyress rises to her feet, a smear of blood staining the white wall behind her. Her unhinged smile widens, revealing deadly points at the tips of gleaming teeth, as she rubs the back her head with a bloody hand. “That wasn’t very nice.”
“Take your entourage and leave. I’d rather not hurt you.” Miniature funnel clouds manifest out of nowhere, flinging chunks of glass and debris throughout the house.
A smirk plays on the Leanaan Sidhe’s pink mouth, and she inches her arm out, allowing glass to slice into her flesh, blood splattering the floor in a spray. “You don’t really want me to go. She holds her other hand out, and the scars on Max’s neck shine bright.
He steps forward as if caught in a tractor beam and reaches for her.
She grips his hand. “I own you now.” Her lulling tone turns wicked.
“You … own … nothing.” Max’s snarl, rasped and drawn, lessens as he struggles for breath and yanks his hand away.
“I didn’t want it to be like this.” She comes closer, whispering, “I only wanted you. I thought you felt the same way.” She gestures to the figures on the roof.
They descend at her glance, snaking down from the ceiling in spirals of smoke.
“These are Sluagh.” She raises her arms to them. “Spirits of the dead.” With a snap, more black-winged reptilian creatures circle the room. “And these are their steeds. Although this variety does hate to be ridden. Not very … horse-like, are they?” She laughs. “Vengeful creatures, really. You might also know them as The Hunt. Fighters more than mounts, really. And they do despise sunlight, but”—she shrugs—”they get the job done.” She glances over her shoulder at a mute and dazed Devon, and winks before hungrily looking Max up and down, biting her lower lip.
He struggles to stand, sweat beading on his forehead. “Don’t do this.”
“You left me no choice.” She leans into him. “You’re not planning to fight, I hope?” She lowers her voice to a raw whisper touching her lips to his ear. “I’ll let you in on a little secret. You’re outnumbered.”
As she kisses the scars down his neck, he buckles, and the Steeds and Sluagh swarm like angry bees behind her.
• • •
I screamed in my sleep, and my body shuddered with the force of emotion, throwing me to the floor, releasing me from the trance. I yanked off the tangle of blankets wrapped around my legs and rose to my feet, pulling heat and rage into my palms, my arms, my core, feeding off the crawl of feathers shivering down my back.
The familiar sound of shuffling feet moved in close behind me. “You underestimate your Twin Soul, Kindred.”
I didn’t turn to face my grandmother, permitting my heat, my fear, to overtake my senses and fuel my rage.
“MacKenzie has protected you for far longer than you realize. He is quite capable of fighting alone. Stay.”
“I can’t.” My jaw clenched under the words, refusing her reason to invade my thoughts.
“The Raven cannot help you in this. She feeds on your anger. Do not allow her to control you.”
I nodded once, pushed away the itching crawl of feathers as best I could, and spun from the cave mouth, her words continuing in my head as though she were spinning beside me, as though she could speak to me the way I’d thought only Max could.
“Control your fire, Kindred. It is as much a curse as it is a gift.”
I looked back for a fleeting second, cliff faces and jagged rocks fusing into a brownish blur. My grandmother stood in the cave mouth, her stooped form whirring past my vision.
A pang of guilt washed over me. “I’ll be back.”
“I hope that is true.”
28
Through a whirling blur, I took in the rooftops dotting the ground and spotted Max’s house sitting like a speck against the vast empty beach. The bluish hue lining the traces of the boundary showed no more Scaths, nor could I detect the electric hum that usually vibrated in the atmosphere.
Furniture lay strewn across the obliterated deck. Shredded gauze curtains swayed outside shattered windows upstairs amid frames ripped to splinters.
My feet hit ground, sinking into wet sand, and I peered into the house through what was left of the fragmented French doors.
Strips of wood flooring had cracked loose and jutted up, damp and discolored, as though a storm surge had engulfed the foundation’s concrete pilings, and sea water flooded the downstairs. In its wake, broken glass covered every surface in sight and scratches and water residue mauled white walls.
Listening for movement or sound, I scoured the destruction before rounding the doorway, careful to place my feet within the undamaged sections of floor and not lose my balance.
I sneaked inside the family room by leaning against the wall, and peeked around the corner. Encased in a steel cage, Justice swung upside down from the only remaining rafter left to stabilize the ruined ceiling, his gargoyle talons gripping a linked steel chain. His gaze moved rapidly around the room, and it landed on me hunched low to the ground before veering toward Devon whose unconscious body draped the staircase.
My fingernails cut into my palms at the sight.
At the far end of the living room, Sam paced, the mutterings he spilled under his breath seemingly aimed at someone lying near his feet.
My head hit the wall as I flung myself back into the family room, breaths racing, steeling myself to enter the fray.
“I told you both not to act without my order.” Sam’s low tone seemed almost sad, disappointed. “Why can’t you ever listen?” He stopped and shook his head toward Tristan, pinned under a fallen beam.
“What the hell are you doing, man?” Justice rattled the metal bars holding him captive.
“You think I wanted this? I told you both to stay away from Max for a few days. A few days! That’s all I asked. Now look at you.” He exhaled. “Right in
the middle of everything!”
“Let me up!” Tristan tried to force the rafter away from his leg with no use.
“If I let you go, I’m dead.” Sam lowered his voice to a whisper. “Dead. What am I supposed to do?”
“The right thing!” Tristan groaned from the floor. “You’re not one of them. We trusted you.”
With fists balled, I walked through the blown out doorway into the heart of the destruction, glaring at Sam, blood heating my entire body.
Sam strode through the wreckage toward me and crossed his arms over his chest. “I wasn’t sure you’d come.” A shadow crossed his face. “Then again, I didn’t think you’d walk away from Max, either. Braver than I thought you were.”
“Funny, I’d say you were more cowardly than I thought you were.” I flexed my fingers. “I take it Benny doesn’t know you’re a traitor?” I raised an eyebrow. “Now tell me where Max is.”
“Layla, don’t.” Justice swung above me, trying to free himself.
Sam’s eyes darkened. “I’m doing this for her … for us. So we can finally be together the right way.” He aimed his gaze toward the ground. “She deserves better than me … better than one of the Fallen. I can be free again. Worthy.”
“By turning spy? Betraying people who trusted you?” I glanced at Tristan. “I’m just guessing, but I don’t think allowing your friend to be crushed to death will set you free.”
“Shut up!” His body turned rigid, stone bleeding through human flesh as horns protruded from his scalp and fangs cut through gums, until his gargoyle form towered over me with chest heaving.
“Sam—” Justice’s tone deepened. “You’re taking this too far.”
Footfalls clapped against wood, and long lean legs came into view down the stairs. “You’re still here?” The Leanaan Sidhe waved her hand in Sam’s direction, her gaze falling on me. “A little late to the party, aren’t we?” A Steed followed in her wake, its leathery wings dragging along the stairs.
“Oh, wait—what a terrible host I am. I should introduce myself properly. The real me.” She smiled and turned in a circle. “Yes, yes, I know—how could I have possibly chosen your friend’s form over my own.” She shrugged. “What can I say? Beauty becomes me.” Her shiny brown hair fell over her shoulders. “We’re just cleaning up the mess.” She smirked, a finger sweeping over Devon’s unconscious body. “Let’s play nice with our guest, Samuel.” She placed a hand on his shoulder as she stopped beside him, and he transformed back into human form. “King Elethan might not be too happy if he knew you were threatening his son’s twin soul.” She threw her head back and laughed, showing her sharp stark white teeth. “Come to think of it, he may not be pleased with you rushing to the aide of your friends either.”
