CHAPTER 27
Home
Evie
Softly falling snow drifts around me as my cheek lies against Brennus’ chest. Holding me close to him, Brennus murmurs tender, unintelligible words to me. Sweeping his fingers gently over my forehead, he smoothes my hair away from it. After he shrugs off his jacket, he drapes it over my wings and shoulders as we stand on a sidewalk beneath the soft, yellowish pool of light from a black-iron lamp.
“’Tis okay, mo chroí,” Brennus says softly. “Ye’re home.”
“Home?” I ask in a murmuring tone while lifting my head off of Brennus weakly. I gaze around; even in the dark, I see a distinctive clock tower rising starkly against the silent, starry sky.
“’Tis sorry I am dat I hit ye. Ye can never speak of healing any of us. ’Twill make some of the fellas desperate ta make ye try, and should ye fail, dey would go mad,” Brennus says.
“But what if I could?” I ask him.
His expression turns pained. “Ye can na try. It would likely kill ye.”
“You don’t know that,” I counter.
“I know enough ta know dat ye can na save me. ’Tis ye who needs saving,” Brennus says, stroking my cheek. “I have a gift for ye."
"What can you possibly give me, Brennus, that would replace what you’ve stolen from me?" I ask, shivering in his arms.
"I have stolen nuting. I have replaced whah ye tink you need wi’ whah I know ye need. I told ye once dat yer blood reveals all of yer secret desires. It told me dat dis is da place ye call home now…where ye long ta be. I’ve brought ye home.”
“Crestwood,” I whisper feebly, glancing around at the familiar building called Central Hall. The grounds are deserted. It must be really late.
“’Tis. We can live here for as long as ye desire. We will make it our home—together.”
“This isn’t my home without Reed. You know that—my blood must be screaming it,” I say softly, taking a step back from Brennus. His coat falls from my wings to the carpet of snow.
Brennus’ eyebrows draw together over his sea-foam green eyes. “All of dat will end soon. I promise ye. Ye’ll no longer be tormented by yer need for da aingeal—”
“My need for him?” I ask, seeing his jaw grow tight.
“Da string dat binds ye both together. He told me of it—’tis a terrible pain for ye both. I will sever it. I know a way ta make it so dat ye no longer ache for him,” Brennus replies with a pained expression as soft white snow clings to his beautiful, black hair.
“How?” I ask while I struggle to remain on my feet. Blood is still seeping from the bites covering my body that I took from Reed. Looking down at the snow beneath my feet, there is a speckled line of blood between us as it falls from my hands.
“Me blood will cure ye of it, mo chroí. ’Twill wipe away da desperate yearning dat ye feel for yer aingeal.” As he says this, he lifts his wrist and shows me his pale skin that has already healed, but his blood still covers his once white shirtsleeve. “Der is a new life awaiting ye in death—no more pain, or bein’ hunted by aingeals—dey’ll all bow down ta ye.”
“You’re suffocating me. It’ll only be a new life for my body, not my soul. You’ll hand me over to Sheol and I’ll only be an empty shape for you to love. I’d rather die!” I say, while lifting my chin and trying to straighten my shoulders.
“Would ye now?” he asks in a sad tone. “Look at yerself. I know how strong ye are, but whah will ye do when da hallucinations begin? ’Tis jus a matter of me openin’ up me flesh and I can make dem all go away...’tis time—”
As if on cue, the clock tower tolls out the hour. BONG…BONG …BONG…
“Let me give ye everyting, Genevieve,” Brennus smiles lovingly at me, before he rips open both of his wrists, allowing his blood to flow. “Táim i ngrá leat,” Brennus intones, telling me that he’s in love with me. “Ye’re me heart, me only love. Ye’re moin,” he says, while extending his wrists to me. He waits, unmoving, for me to come to him.
My trembling hands ball into fists as I try to resist the scent of his blood that floats in the air, surrounding me. It calls to me, like the aroma of baking bread to a starving person. My vision distorts as I look away from him, feeling desperate to stop the craving. The glowing lamppost near me begins to sway; it bends in my direction like a tree in the wind. Radiance from it brings hideous shadows swooping all around me. I shy away from it, unaware if it’s a hallucination or Brennus’ magic that’s making it do that.
From the corner of my eye I catch sight of a blacked-winged creature as it dives past the lamppost; the ruffle of its leathery gargoyle wings makes the sound of a sheet billowing on a clothesline. My eyes widen in fear. “Brennus!” I gasp, feeling my chin beginning to tremble.
Brennus tracks the flight of the gargoyle-like phantom as it weaves a path around us. “’Tis a reconnoître, dat ting ye see. Sheol searches for ye even now. Dey’ve sent out scouts ta all da corners of dis world,” he says with a pitying-look. “’Twill na enter da light. ’Tis nocturnal; it can na abide it.”
Trying to think of a spell, I focus it on the lamppost. Instantly the tall, tapering light brightens, while the black base sprouts legs. It pries itself from the ground with a shower of powerful sparks and the sizzle of electricity. It stumbles forward on squeaky, iron limbs while my wavering hand directs it toward Brennus and me. His smile deepens as he faces down my creation, unafraid.
“A light-pole craitur?” Brennus asks me, like he finds me amusing. “’Tis someting I’ve na seen before, but ’tis jus one, mo chroí. Ta survive, yer craitur will need an army.” Brennus raises his hand toward the row of ironclad lampposts that line the sidewalk. A score of poles begin to struggle, unearthing themselves from the ground. Sparks shower down and the kinetic zing of electricity crackles in the air. Yellow light casts eerie glowing shadows on the sidewalk as they lurch forward, approaching the light-pole I had conjured.
Brennus’ expression becomes soft. “Ye see…’tis just like ye: alone. Ye need an army ta protect ye. If na, den ye are jus an animal…trapped.” I watch as Brennus’ tall, sinister tapers near and surround us; they use their garish, illuminated heads to cast pools of light over the snowy courtyard. Beyond the glowing circles, shadowy figures of Gancanagh emerge from everywhere I look; their hisses of yearning when they catch my scent resonate in the air.
“Our army,” Brennus says like an introduction while sweeping his hand and gesturing to the hordes of icy, undead Faeries. “’Twill make a fine nest. Dere are many advantages in Crestwood.”
I choke, seeing their numbers; there are legions of them. I wonder briefly if I recognize any of them from my time among them or if he had brought them from somewhere else. In the next moment, elf darts erupt from the fellas, hitting the reconnoître, knocking it out of the sky. When if falls to the snowy ground, the fellas closest to it tear the beast to pieces.
“All dey need now is a queen. Dey, like me, jus want ta share deir existence wi’ ye,” Brennus admits in a low tone.
Panic, overwhelming and sickening, hits me. Remembering my personal portal, I touch my neck with my fingertips, expecting to feel the smooth, onyx pin at my throat. But, what I feel instead are slick trails of blood streaking it.
“Ye’re looking for dis?” Brennus asks, holding up the black ribbon with the onyx portal attached to it. “Where does it lead?” Brennus asks with a sublime smile. “’Tis my guess dat ’tis somewhere nearby…at da aingeal’s house, perhaps? ’Tis where he tought ye’d all go—should ye escape. He knows ye well…almost as well as me. Perhaps we’ll go dere next…after ye join us…”
Black dread pounces on me, and without thinking, I lift my hand toward Brennus, sending out a pulse of white, hot energy. It hits him where he stands beneath a pool of light from the hovering lampposts, lifting him off his feet and sending him hurtling into the darkness beyond. He sprawls flat on the ground, coming to rest in a drift of snow.
“No one touches my family,” I murmur.
>
Immediately, Brennus lifts up to his feet: not by bending in the way a human would, but by magically levitating up from the ground in one, fluid motion. Hisses resonate from the fellas, who inch toward me in anticipation of blood. A feral growl elicits from Brennus, staying the fellas from coming any nearer to me.
Brennus’ eyes turn and lock on mine. “Ye understand nuting. Ye’re so naive—’tis like speaking ta a child. Ye have no idea whah da aingeals are after, do ye?” he asks rhetorically. “Dey need ye to fall, Genevieve. Dey need ye to join da Fallen. Do ye na see dat?”
“What?” I cringe. “You’re insane! Everyone has been trying to protect me—protect my soul from you.”
“Dat is because dey have other plans for ye, Genevieve! Dey need ye to remain as ye are, a half-breed when ye fall. Dey can na afford ta have me separate yer soul from yer body. The Fallen are only interested in ye as ye are now. Yer soul is a prize, ta be sure, but it is na powerful wi’out yer aingeal body. I can only save da aingeal part of ye from Sheol. If dere was a way ta save yer soul as well, I’d do it," he says in a tense tone.
“You’re talking about fallen angels—” I say
He cuts me off, “I’m speaking of divine aingeals, too!”
“Why would all of the angels want me to fall?” I ask, feeling sick with dread because I know Brennus. He believes what he’s telling me.
“I have na been able ta discover da ‘why.’ Maybe da divine want ye ta get close ta someone in Sheol. One way ta do dat is ta fall from grace—become one of dem,” Brennus says as his hands become fists. “Ye trust dem blindly, even after I told ye na ta!”
“I can’t trust you, Brennus. You just want to control me,” I retort, struggling to remember that he is truly my enemy.
“I do want ta control ye. Ye have no idea whah is comin’. ’Tis bigger dan ye. Ye balk at being me queen, but ’tis da only way I can see ta save ye,” he says with an earnest expression. “’Tis as I said before. Da only ting dat ye respect is strength. So be it,” he spits out. “I will show ye strength.”
“Show me mercy, Brennus,” I breathe. “Please...mercy...”
“Ye are achingly lovely, mo chroí,” Brennus says as if he shares my pain. “Ye tink I want ta change ye? I’m more like me old self when I’m wi’ ye—I’m like da being I was before Aodh changed me. Ye do someting ta me. I can remember whah it is to be good when ye are wi’ me. I do na want ta lose any part of ye, but dis is mercy. Sheol will na get all of ye...because if dey do, dis world ends. Ye’ll destroy dis world and every livin’ ting in it. Come wi’ me now. I’ll protect ye. I won’t change ye until it becomes absolutely necessary. Ye’ve me word.”
Reed’s unmistakable voice comes from behind me, saying, “Go hIfreann leat,” the rough translation of which means: to hell with you, Brennus. Then, Reed’s strong arms wrap around my waist, pulling me against him, beyond Brennus’ reach.
“Reed,” I breathe with churning emotions of relief and heart-stopping fear.
Holding me tight against his warm, bare chest, Reed’s face bends near my ear. His soft breath stirs my hair as he whispers, “I want to kill him slowly, painfully, for you, love, but I don’t think I’ll be able to restrain myself. Will you forgive me if I do it quickly?” he asks.
My throat constricts. “Reed, wait, he has an army,” I counter through trembling lips.
Reed’s strong arms press me tighter to him as he says against my hair, “I promise you that he’ll die before me. I need you to switch on, Evie, like you did in Torun,” he murmurs against my hair. “Be ready to fight,” he breathes in a low tone. Then, Reed shifts me behind him so that he stands between Brennus and me. Glancing over my shoulder, the fellas surrounding us are creeping closer, closing in.
“’Tis obscene da way ye managed ta escape me thrall, aingeal,” Brennus says with a severe twist of his lips. “Genevieve is unpredictable—”
“She’s unparalleled,” Reed counters, his hand tensing on the small letter-opener in his hand, but otherwise he remains unmoving.
“SHE’S ALL I WANT,” Brennus bellows, startling me with his unsuppressed rage.
In a soft tone, Reed states, “And she’s the only thing I need. Should I fail to kill you, Brennus, she will finish you. Can you feel it, the lack of oxygen as she pulls energy to her? She’s fierce,” he says with a small smile touching his lips as he glances back at me.
Brennus loses his scowl. “I taught her dat,” he says.
“And she learned it well—ask Lonan…oh wait, you can’t. She turned him into ashes…” Reed replies.
Brennus smiles. “Why do ye na tell her whah is coming aingeal?” Brennus asks in a low tone.
“I don’t know what’s coming,” Reed says with no inflection.
“Dat is na entirely true. Ye expect someting...remember, we discussed it?” he asks in a cajoling way.
“We discussed my deepest fears,” Reed replies easily.
“Same ting,” Brennus shrugs. “Whah ye fear most will come to pass. Why do ye na tell her dat ye fear dat she will fall—dat she’s meant ta fall?” Brennus asks with scorn. “All da signs are dere. Her sire is a negotiator wi’ Sheol. Her soul mate bond has been severed—dat can only happen if ’twas negotiated as part of a mission. She’d only do dat ta save her soul mate from tristitiae—sorrow as the result of her eventual fall. Ye found her alone—unprotected. Sheol was upon her—she barely escaped dem. She was like a sacrificial lamb. Ye fear dat she is a compromise from Heaven ta Hell.”
“Heaven doesn’t compromise,” Reed states.
“Heaven already did! Look at her! She’s an aingeal wi’ a human soul. Dere has never been a greater compromise,” Brennus argues as he gestures in my direction.
“Look again, Brennus. She’s growing more powerful by the hour,” Reed states, undaunted by what Brennus is revealing.
“She is weak—ye make her weak. Her blood spills from her wi’ each passing moment. ’Twill na be long before she’ll be too frail ta stand,” Brennus replies, but his eyes are focusing on me.
Reed frowns, still standing motionless between Brennus and me. “Her only weakness is that she’s young…she doesn’t yet know what she’s capable of, but I do. I’ve seen her potential and up to this point, she has been merciful. The time for mercy is over.”
All around me, Gancanagh soldiers creep closer. They’re waiting for Brennus’ signal to attack. My heartbeat thumps painfully in my chest. Struggling to pull every ounce of energy out of the air, I feel the tug-of-war for it as the undead Faeries try to keep it from me. My chin trembles in fear and suppressed emotion as my breathing becomes labored.
“Ye can na win dis, aingeal,” Brennus snarls.
“She loves me. I cannot lose,” Reed says with a sublime smile.
“She’s moin. I will kill for her. I will die for her,” Brennus promises. He strips his shirt off slowly, revealing his pale chest that resembles carved, Grecian marble. Without looking away from Reed, Brennus extends his hand toward a Gancanagh soldier nearest to him. Immediately, the soldier relinquishes his knife to his máistir.
“Then, I accept your challenge and you can die for her. Here. Now.” Reed says with a satisfied smile.
In the next instant, I can’t breathe as Reed and Brennus both tense before rushing toward each other in the blinding speed of blurring shapes. Brennus raises his arm in a wide, arcing, sweep before bringing it down near Reed’s neck. Reed bursts apart in the next instant, exploding into a swarm of bees that engulfs Brennus in a shroud of pestilence. The bees collect behind Brennus, morphing back into Reed as he plunges the letter opener into Brennus’ back, wrenching it viciously down to carve a deep, bloody line into him. Then, Reed kicks Brennus forward, sending Brennus stumbling to remain on his feet.
The mass of fellas assembled around us begins to push forward, surging in to protect their king. With all my remaining strength, I create a magical barrier, surrounding Reed, Brennus, and me within it. As it pushes back the snarling horde, sweat fo
rms on my brow. The Gancanagh nearest us throw elf darts that strike hard against the wall, making energy surge back into me and then pull it away as I try to maintain the invisible edifice. A shower of magical fire rains around us as other spells are being continually cast at us.
Brennus readjusts his knife, flicking it around in a circular motion against his palm. His eyes close briefly as his lips move in a silent spell. The next time the knife spins Brennus spins with it. He becomes a blurring whirl, as pieces of him break off, falling away to become several Brenns standing beneath the glow of the lampposts.
He cloned himself! I gasp, seeing Reed halt his forward progress, glancing around at each of the dozen dark-haired killers that resemble the Gancanagh leader.
Reed growls as his eyebrows slash together. His chin drops in a predatory stare while four exact copies of Brennus launch forward to attack him. Reed slashes the first, cutting a deep gash into his chest. The wounded Brenn is pulled backward into the Brennus standing at the back in the pool of light; his face is etched in pain before he’s absorbed into the other, causing them to merge into a single being. A laceration breaks open on Brennus’ chest; his face blanches as he touches his chest with the tips of his fingers, welding the injury closed with the light of magic.
I glance at all the Brenns one-by-one. They’re not magical clones. They’re pieces of Brennus, I surmise.
Vicious cuts break through Reed’s defenses as the Brenns mob him from every angle. Reed’s chest bleeds with jagged slashes, blood running from his perfect chest. Reed hacks three Brenns back at once, dispelling them from him. They weave a path back to Brennus, fitting back into him with devastating effects. Wounds appear, marring Brennus’ abdomen and face.
In my distraction, my barrier falters, allowing a handful of Gancanagh soldiers to slip through it. I grunt, concentrating again and closing the gap. An agonizing stab of pain breaks in my chest as I see Reed get shot in the back by a gun-wielding fella. Reed cuts the arm off of a Brenn he’s fighting while wrenching his knife blade from the hand before the appendage hits the ground. Never hesitating Reed pivots, throwing the knife at the fella who shot him; it slices the fella’s head off. As the pieces of the destroyed Brenn collect and shift back to the original, the other Brenns hesitate.
Incendiary (The Premonition Series (Volume 4)) Page 46
