Incendiary (The Premonition Series (Volume 4))

by Amy A. Bartol

“The Birds?” I whisper.

  “That’s the one. Well, it’s kinda like that out there, ‘cept instead of birds lurkin’ ‘round, we’ve got fallen angels and Gancanagh linin’ the pitched rooftops, waitin’ for us to come out,” Russell reports, looking pale. “It’s just gettin’ dark and the Fallen are flyin’ ‘round like they could give a crap that they’re among humans.”

  “We’re dead,” I choke, feeling oddly calm about it.

  “No, we’re in a good position,” Reed disagrees, crouching down to look in our eyes. “Russell, you did a good job picking this bar. It’s an underground fortress with only one access point. It’s hollowed out of stone—lacking incendiary properties. Even if they try to burn us out, you and Evie can bring the rain and extinguish it. We are the bait now and the trap is set.” Reed gives us a smug smile, his green eyes shining with anticipation.

  “Tau,” I say, feeling scared and hopeful all at the same time.

  “He’s going to bring a reign of terror on them the likes of which they’ve never seen,” Reed says, studying the clock on the wall as if calculating when the reign will begin. “Zephyr is going to be disappointed.”

  “When is Tau gettin’ here?” Russell asks, but the phone behind the bar begins ringing, causing me to jump at it’s shrill tone.

  Wetting my lips, I glance at Reed, asking, “Tau?”

  “I gave Tau my private number,” Reed replies, letting the phone continue to ring.

  “Well, maybe—” I say, watching Reed shake his head slowly.

  “No, that’s Brennus,” Reed says. Walking toward the phone, Reed crushes it, silencing it in mid-ring.

  “What do you think he wants?” I ask with a cold shiver.

  “You,” Reed replies. “Russell, can you handle the door while I contact Tau?”

  “I’ll growl if there’s any movement,” Russell replies.

  “Do you want to speak to Tau?” Reed asks, moving to me and cupping my cheek.

  “No, I’m going to clean myself up, then I’ll help guard the door,” I reply, feeling adrenaline burst through me again.

  “I’ll be right here,” Reed says, kissing my forehead before letting me go.

  Quickly I go to the bathroom, cleaning myself the best that I can in the sink. I glance in the mirror and notice that I’m really pale. It’s probably from being bitten; my blood hasn’t had a chance to fully replenish. I still feel really weak. Brennus’ magic could snap me in two right now and I’d barely be able to fight back.

  When I return to the room, Russell is behind the bar, wiping his dripping hands and face on a towel. As he comes around from the bar, he carries a bag of pretzels and water with him. Tossing me a bottle of water, he sits next to Anya on an elegant couch and offers her some pretzels. She snuggles into his side, resting her head on his chest and he doesn’t seem to mind having her there as he watches the entrance ahead of him.

  “Lei-cha-ih-yil-knee-ih il-day,” Russell says to Anya, “be-al-doh-tso-lani al-tah-je-jay Gancanagh.” He strokes her hair soothingly.

  I sit down by them on an adjacent sofa. “What did you tell her?” I ask.

  “I said ‘the army will arrive—many big guns to attack the Gancanagh,’” Russell replies.

  “Ne-tah,” Anya says with the intimacy of a secret.

  Russell squeezes her to him and smiles cunningly. “That’s right, we’ll fool them, Anya” he replies.

  “What language is that?” I ask, taking a handful of pretzels when he turns the bag toward me.

  “Navajo,” Russell says, munching on his pretzels. “We were Apache, but we traded with the Navajo once in a while,” he adds, and then he gives me a crooked, little smile. “You were a purdy squaw.”

  Lifting a pretzel to my lips, my hands shake. I show them to Russell and say in a self-effacing way, “You’d think that I’d be used to this by now.”

  Anya studies my hands, and then she lifts her trembling ones, saying, “Toh-bah-ha-zsid.”

  “What did she say?” I ask, feeling relief that she’s not scowling at me now.

  “She said she’s afraid, too” Russell answers with a grim frown, clearly bothered by the last exchange.

  Anya’s deep green eyes hold mine and I want to tell her I’m sorry, but I’m not sure exactly for what. However, in the next moment, a prickling cold touches my skin. Swirling patterns of frost form on the walls beyond Anya, running up over the ceiling to crystallize the glass chandeliers. My breath comes out of my mouth in hazy clouds as the temperature in the room drops severely. Russell, Anya, and I stand up at once. Reed instantly appears by my side again, taking my hand casually in his. Hearing the sound of cracking, like thin ice when someone walks on it, Brennus appears at the doorway of the pub.

  Still in his dark suit, Brennus is polished elegance, a king, as he surveys us beneath him. His eyes stop on me, taking in every inch of my body. “Genevieve,” he says my name like a prayer, “me queen…me living darkness.”

  CHAPTER 11

  The Specter Of Regret

  “It never seems ta lessen,” Brennus says to me, while stepping with regal grace down the staircase toward our position in the cellar bar below. “Dis stabbing thrill of desire dat bleeds trough me whenever I behold ye, mo chroí.” The icy path is expanding around him, covering the surfaces of the pub with frost. Knowing that this is only an image of Brennus—a magical spell projected to us through his vast power, I still feel almost paralyzing fear that he has found me again.

  “Keep him talking, love,” Reed says in my ear. “Try to draw him in. We need him to physically come here.”

  I feign composure as I reply to Brennus, “Come in and get your overdose then.” I straighten my shoulders and prepare for war. “I’m surprised that you’re not tired of the hangover.”

  Brennus’ light green eyes rivet on me, like he’s scouring me for any minute changes that might have occurred since I was last within his embrace. “Ye’ve a devious wee mind. I tought for sure dat we had ye trapped on yer isle in da blue sea,” he remarks, coming ever nearer to me and ignoring everyone else.

  “I’m sorry, it must have been so disappointing sifting through the carnage and not finding pieces of me,” I reply, seeing my breath forming icy tendrils in the frigid air.

  “’Tis whah I tought I wanted, too, Genevieve—ta see ye extinguished from all existence. ’Twas my only ambition, truth be told. However, when yer wee isle incinerated and I believed dat me fellas had annihilated ye, someting happened ta me,” Brennus breathes, his image coming close to me. He leans very near, trying to inhale the scent of my hair, only to frown and look dissatisfied in the obvious fact that he cannot.

  “You were sorry it wasn’t you who pulled the trigger?” I ask, confused by the contradictory behavior he is displaying.

  “I learned dat dere is a raging depth of pain dat I had yet ta experience,” he explains, watching my reaction.

  “You mean you had a moment of remorse?” I ask, quirking my eyebrow in disbelief. “What a vexing situation for you, Brenn: to be at the pinnacle of your triumph and to be daunted by the specter of regret.”

  “’Twas na remorse,” he replies in a harsh tone. “’Twas loss on a scale I had never imagined possible. ’Twas an agony dat even da death of me own heart, or da heart of me brudder, could na equal.”

  “Well, you appear to have recovered fully from it,” I reply, raising my chin. “Judging by the Werree you sent to me, you’re leaning toward killing me again?” I ask, trying to sound calm, but hearing the accusation in my tone.

  “Dey were na here by me orders!” Brennus hisses, looking outraged. “’Twas Lonan dat banjaxed me orders.” Seeing the deep scowl on his face and the way that his lower lip is thinning menacingly, I can tell he means it. “’Tis his hatred for da other dat has him blind ta whah is truly important here.”

  “And what’s that?” I ask, unable to stop myself.

  Sighing heavily, Brennus asks in a tired tone, “Ye have ta ask me dat? Ye do na know dat ye are
all dat madders ta me?”

  “I’m sorry—my bad!” I retort with sarcasm, hitting my forehead in mock surprise. “I must’ve totally misread your intentions! I thought that you were trying to—what was it—extinguish me from all existence?” I ask. “But now that you tell me that I’m all that matters to you, I feel so much better.”

  “Ye are aware, Genevieve, dat sarcasm is da lowest form of humor?” Brennus replies, completely serious.

  “You need some lithium for your mood swings, Brenn,” I reply, shaking my head in disgust.

  “Have ye na heard a word I’ve been tellin’ ye?” he asks in frustration. “I’m trying ta explain dat I tought I killed ye and for several hours afterward, ’twas da most agonizing moments I’ve ever experienced.”

  “Oh,” I murmur, surprise leaking into my tone. “So…you’ve decided to let me live?” I ask, knowing he wouldn’t be coming here if that were the case.

  “Well…dat’s na entirely accurate. If by live ye mean dat I’ll drain ye and share me blood wi’ ye so dat ye become me undead queen, den ye get ta live. Ye will na even have ta beg me, ’twill be enough dat ye submit ta me.”

  Looking at Reed, he immediately says, “No.”

  “Ahh, I’m sorry, Brennus,” I reply sheepishly. “My attorney has advised me against your offer. You see, we kinda have this other deal in motion that should do the trick.”

  Russell closes his eyes briefly, like I’m giving away a huge secret. Seeing Russell’s reaction, Brennus’ expression turns sour. “Deal? Whah deal, Genevieve?” he asks.

  “Well, it’s kinda in the planning stages right now, but I guess I can let you in on it,” I say in a conspiratorial tone.

  “Red, don’t tell him nothin’,” Russell retorts in agitation.

  “It’s okay, Russell. He can’t stop us now,” I reply, giving him a wink.

  “Speak,” Brennus barks abruptly, like a leader used to ruling.

  “We did some recon,” I say in a serious tone. “You’ve assembled a legion of the fallen army, not to mention Inikwi and my personal favorite, Werree—Lachlan would be so mad at you.”

  “I already explained dat da Werree are na here by me orders, but da Fallen and da Inikwi were necessary. Ye can na be allowed ta escape from here. I miss ye, mo chroí—more dan ye can imagine. I need ye ta be at me side now,” he replies, calmly explaining his position.

  “You’ve made it clear that we’re not getting out of here alive,” I explain, watching his reaction. “You’re the king and you’re coming here to crush us.”

  “’Tis difficult to remember dat ye are jus a wee lass still. When ye speak ta me like dat and set me blood on fire,” Brennus murmurs, smiling in approval, “’tis making me wish dat I could really be here now, so dat I could inhale da scent of all dat intoxicating blood pounding trough yer veins.”

  I wrinkle my nose at him. “Yes, so disappointing for me, too,” I agree, feeling a shiver of dread pass through me.

  “Ye plan ta bargain wi’ me? Do ye propose another contract in order ta spare deir lives?” he inquires, barely hiding his grin.

  “No,” I sigh sadly. “I know that you’re not going to spare their lives, no matter what I offer you, Brennus,” I reply, gazing back at him and seeing his smile broaden.

  “Dat is interesting, Genevieve. I tought dat ye would attempt ta grovel for deir lives,” he grins, raising his brow like he’s intrigued.

  “Ahh…tristitiae, that means sorrow, right?” I ask, seeing him nod his head. “You always said that it’s my weakness.”

  “I did,” he affirms, his eyes slowly narrowing.

  “And yours is me,” I say without a doubt.

  “Whah are ye saying?” he asks, suddenly not looking so confident.

  “Like I said, I haven’t worked out all the details, but essentially, you’re wasting your time coming here, because I’ll be gone,” I reply. “Anya, that’s the angel over there, has been dying to kill me since she met me,” I explain, pointing to Anya who’s standing next to Russell.

  “Why?” Brennus asks in a stiff tone, circling Anya and hearing her growl a warning at his magical image.

  “It’s complicated,” I mutter, waving my hand absently. “Russell is kinda her aspire and I’ve been keeping him from her—blah, blah, blah. Suffice it to say, she hates my guts.”

  Brennus’ lips contort in a sneer. “Kill her,” he orders me, looking fierce.

  “Can’t,” I say, shrugging my shoulders. “If I kill her, then I’ll have to rely on either Russell or Reed to kill me and that’s a lot to ask of them. No, Anya is my best choice. Or, I could walk out right now and hope that a Fallen kills me in the heat of the moment, but you might have promised them something or they could double-cross you and take me to Sheol and I really don’t feel like taking that chance.”

  Brennus begins to swear softly in Faerie—at least, I think he’s swearing. He takes a deep breath and switches back to English, “Listen ta me, Genevieve. Ye can walk out dis doorway right now and surrender ta Lonan. He’ll keep ye safe until I arrive. I’ll agree ta let yer friends live.” He watches me sit down on the sofa and dig my hand into the bag of pretzels, pulling out a handful.

  “You know, pretzels as a last meal is not so bad. I’m really craving Twinkies, but this is okay. At least I get water this time,” I say, popping a pretzel in my mouth and watching his reaction.

  “Whah about da other and da aingeal?” Brennus asks, trying to find the angle that will get me to submit to him.

  “Well, once Anya kills me, my soul might ascend to Paradise. If I get there, I’ll try to convince the hierarchy to call Reed, Russell, and Anya back to Paradise, too, before you’re able to hurt them,” I answer with goose bumps rising as I think of the countless barriers to such a plan.

  “Dat is a wrong move, Genevieve. Dey’ll never agree ta dat,” Brennus responds immediately, like he has intimate knowledge of how Paradise operates.

  “Then it’s plan B for them. Reed can kill Russell…he might even enjoy that a little,” I say as I look at Reed and then Russell. “If he does that, then Anya will be willing to kill him, too,” I reply, feeling my throat get tight at the thought of losing either Reed or Russell.

  The grim expression on Brennus’ face tells me just what he thinks of my new plan. Anger flares in his voice when he approaches Russell, saying, “I order ye ta protect Genevieve ‘til I arrive.”

  With a growing frown, Russell says, “You know, it’s funny…there’s somethin’ in me now that actually wants to obey you.”

  “Ye’ve been bitten, Russell,” Brennus replies in a menacing tone. “My venom is in ye now, because it all stems from me. I’m yer king and ye’ll follow me orders.”

  “Is that it? I was wonderin’ why you almost seem appealin’ to me now,” Russell says off-handedly. “But, naw, you’re not my king. I don’t subscribe to the whole evil dictator vibe you got goin’ on.”

  “Ye won’t subscribe ta anyting ever again if ye go along wi’ Genevieve’s plan,” Brennus counters. “She’s planning ta kill ye.”

  “Normally, I’m not one to drink the grape kool-aid, Brennus, knowin’ it’s poisoned,” Russell replies calmly. “I’m more of a ‘see how many bad guys I can take with me’ type. So I may still be here when you arrive, but I’m gonna make sure that Red is gone ‘cuz her soul is the most important thing to me. I’m not gonna let you send it to Sheol.”

  Seeing that he’s not getting what he wants from Russell, Brennus turns to Reed, eyeing him in an assessing way. “Ye’re awfully calm about dis,” he remarks.

  “Yes,” Reed agrees.

  “Dis does na bother ye—dat she plans on dying here—cut down in a seedy, underground hovel?” Brennus asks with disgust in his voice, gesturing around him.

  “What matter the place?” Reed replies in a grim tone. “The world ends for us both when she’s gone.”

  “’Tis ironic dat ye are da only other one ta understand dat,” Brennus replies in a soft tone.
/>   “Isn’t it?” Reed agrees.

  “We two have a vested interest in seeing her stay alive. Can we na find a solution ta dis?” Brennus asks, his face looks somehow paler than normal.

  “I have an interest in her remaining alive. You have an interest in her becoming undead,” Reed counters.

  “Too, true,” Brennus responds, exhaling a sigh. “’Tis jus dat I can na control her while she’s alive—na dat I object ta her being alive because I enjoy every sensual breath dat she takes.”

  “Yes, there is that, and the fact that she won’t be the same after you suck out her soul,” Reed replies, his eyes narrowing minutely.

  “’Tis disconcerting,” Brennus agrees.

  “You love her purity of spirit,” Reed states, watching Brennus.

  “Dere is na one ting dat I do na love about her,” Brennus says thoughtfully.

  “Except for her love for Russell and me,” Reed replies, his deep green eyes scanning me lovingly.

  “Except for dat,” Brennus scowls in agreement. “So, we’re aligned in our tinking.”

  “You’ve forced her into a corner and now she only sees one way out,” Reed says. “It was the same in the caves in Houghton—she’ll evade you the only way she can.”

  “So ye’re saying dat me only option is ta let her escape now, if I want ta have a chance of ever having her again,” Brennus asks Reed with an ironic twist of his lips.

  “Either that, or you have to arrive here and stop her before she dies…tick, tock, tick, tock…Or…you could eliminate the threat outside,” Reed advises with a cunning smile on his perfect lips. “That means turning on the Inikwi, the Fallen, and the Werree in order to save her.”

  “’Tis frowned upon ta turn on one’s allies,” Brennus states blandly.

  “Tell all of your friends ‘goodbye,’” Reed smiles, knowing that the Gancanagh will be hunted by the Fallen again if they betray them now.

  “How much time do I have ta clear a path for yer escape?” Brennus asks, looking tormented.

  “How much time do you need?” Reed counters, looking at the clock on the wall.

  “Several hours,” he replies.