by LJ Swallow
"I presume you’re Ripley?" She half-spits his name as she hands her coat to the tall man on her left.
Ripley stands and gives a small bow. He'd better not be taking the piss or things will descend pretty quickly.
Portia’s mouth curls further, as if he’s a fly needing to be squashed, and looks to her fae colleague instead. "Logan."
"Portia," he replies evenly.
"Have you begun fixing that little problem you created?" she asks, voice terse. They stare at each other and Logan doesn't respond. "Because your betrayal is on the edge of unforgivable." A violet energy crackles faintly and I glance at the glass-panelled walls. Are any employees sneaking a look in?
One thing with fae, if they want to hide how they feel, they can. Is it possible to hide from each other too? Logan doesn’t show any fear of the woman who could order his death, which worries me. How powerful has he become with his new followers?
"This isn’t the place to talk, Portia. You were quite clear earlier," he replies.
"I’ve had time to think since then."
"Do you think the fairies are going to kill each other?" whispers Ripley with a smile. "That won't help matters, enough already died yesterday."
"And taunting won't help either!" hisses Ewan. "You’re bloody lucky Seth didn’t wipe out your colleagues at the other portals."
Fortunately, Portia’s focus on Logan prevents her hearing Ripley’s jibe.
The second bodyguard pulls out a chair for Portia to sit, and she smooths her black skirt as she does. "I'm not staying long. I have no more interest in your crusade. I'm out."
I nod at Heath. "Told you."
"Don't you think that's a little difficult, Portia, since you live in the world a god could destroy?" puts in Ripley.
Portia gives a serene smile and folds her hands on the table in front of her. "Oh, but we're not staying in this world."
The room drops into a confused silence. "Where are you going?" asks Joss.
"Back to my own realm."
Portia has said some stupid, selfish and insane things before, but this? "How, exactly?" I ask.
She wrinkles her nose as if we're asking a dumb question. "Through the portal where my race originally entered."
"How?" repeats Heath.
I thought Seth was mad, but this is insane.
She waves a hand at Logan. "You and your ‘new’ fae can take over. You were going to overthrow me anyway." He opens his mouth to protest and she holds up a hand to silence him. "Don't patronise me by denying this, you stupid man."
"Bye then!" Ripley waves a hand then folds his arms, amusement lighting his face. "Nice to finally meet you before you left."
"No. Wait." Logan sits forward. "Why would you go back to the wasteland that place has become?"
Portia sniffs. "Why would you stay in the middle of an apocalypse?"
"And you have no power over there!" He shakes his head. "Your family were hated. You'd never survive, even if the climate didn’t kill you."
"My life has been threatened, repeatedly, recently. My ancestors left the fae realm because they feared for their lives. Now I fear for mine and my family’s, and I would rather take a risk against the corrupt fae living there, than stay here."
"Are you taking Elyssia?" Vee asks incredulously. "Does she know?"
"I think you're all missing the point," says Heath. "We can't let Portia open a portal and let through the fae her family ran from. I don’t know what she means by ‘corrupt’, but I’m guessing that’s not a good thing."
Portia's mouth twitches. "Logan and his betraying bastards can take them out easily. The fae over there don’t contain strong magic to bring with them."
Logan shakes his head. "This is a moot point. Portia can't open the portal. She doesn't have the means."
"And the Horsemen will stop her," I growl.
"I don't have the means yet. But somebody I know does."
I shake my head. Seth's decision to divide us has bigger consequences than even he could dream of. I always worried Ripley would want to open his portal and let through demon hordes, but I never imagined anybody would leave.
I drag a hand through my hair and stand. We can’t deal with all this. "Not happening, Portia."
She stands too. "Yes. It is. Between you all, you have killed too many of my people. I will offer them a choice."
We're interrupted by a light rap on the door, and Logan calls for the person to come in. A young woman in a business suit fails to hide her curiosity as she gestures behind her.
"There are two more people here to join the meeting. I wasn't sure if you were expecting them."
VEE
Syv pushes past the girl and walks into the room. She's never the model of elegance, but I don't think the distressed look to her clothes is deliberate. Her jacket sleeve is torn and her red hair pulled into a pony tail out of her face. Under my scrutiny, she self-consciously touches her injured cheek with a hand covered in scratches. As she moves them, her jacket slips up and I can see deep slashes on her forearms.
Is she injured? Was this Seth?
She sits and places her dirty boots on the chair beside her, crossed at the ankles.
I smile, even though her appearance worries me. That’s Syv. Always makes an entrance.
"Are you okay?" asks Joss as he stands.
"Paris is nice this time of year." She forces a smile. "Locals weren't too friendly though. You know how it is."
I look to Joss, who nods in understanding before sitting next to Syv. "Are you sure you're okay?"
Syv jerks her arm away where he places his fingers on her. "Hands off."
With a sigh, Joss shifts to one side but hopefully his proximity will soothe her.
What the hell happened?
The Collector steps in too, bringing with him the strange, imposing presence the tall guy does. Considering the Horsemen’s usual dominating personalities, that’s quite a feat. His pale skin is untouched, and now that I see him with other fae I see why he avoids human company so much. His eyes are more violet, face longer with a more Elven look to his features. Are fae where stories about elves come from? Despite his captivating looks, there’s a harsher expression, especially when he lays eyes on Portia.
The tension between them doesn’t need mine and Joss’s skills to detect; the suspicion and downright hatred are tangible. I wait for them to acknowledge each other but they don’t speak before a focused Xander interrupts.
"Did you see Seth? Did you find the stone?"
I frown at him and he looks surprised that I'm annoyed by his bluntness.
"I'd be in a body bag if Col hadn’t been with me," Syv says with a snort. "I have your stone. You'd better pay me a truckload for this, because I'm not joking about the risk to my life."
The Collector moves to the edge of the room and leans against the wall, arms crossed as he watches the assembled allies. "We encountered some issues and Syv was fortunate I was there."
I look at Syv’s hands, which tremble; when she sees me looking, she sits on them and scowls.
"Issues?" asks Logan.
"Seth has some interesting tools at his disposal." The Collector’s voice holds the calm tone I noticed in the past.
Heath leans closer, elbows on the table. "What tools? Should we be worried?"
"Not about this particular ‘tool’, no. I’ve dealt with it," he replies. Syv glances at him and bites her lip but doesn’t elaborate. "All that matters is you have your stone. We’re here to deliver it, and then I need to rest."
"Not before we’ve spoken," puts in Portia.
The Collector slowly turns his eyes to hers, and the disdain in them eclipses any I’ve seen on Portia’s face in the past.
"About?" he asks in a flat tone.
Ripley shifts his feet from the chair and leans forward with glee. "Apparently Portia’s headed back to her broken fae realm."
The Collector makes a derisive noise. "How are you going to do that?"
She narrows her eyes.
"You know how."
"I do?"
His feigned innocence worries me but Portia snaps, "You know damn well. You have the means."
"But not the inclination."
"You’re a disgrace to your race," she sneers. "Worse than this one who’s stabbed me in the back." Logan straightens as she points at him. "Our realm will be more intact than this world will be in a few days. I’m willing to take my chances; I have enough fae who’ll accompany me, I’m sure. We can start our society again."
The Collector’s brows tug closer in amusement at her outburst. "You have little faith in your allies here."
"Correct." Portia stands and takes her coat from her security guard. "I have come to tell you all my position, and I intend to carry out this plan, with or without your agreement."
Just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse.
She addresses the Collector. "Perhaps you need to reconsider your options. The writing is on the wall. Your realm needs you again."
"There is a reason I left. I want nothing to do with the place."
As she shrugs the coat back on, her lips thin and she gives the Collector a filthy look. "I hope you regain some sense, and realise where your loyalties lie after hundreds of years hiding from your responsibilities. You’re a disgrace to your race! Why anybody ever revered you, I will never know."
"Be careful," he growls.
She brushes her skirt into place. "Fine. We only want you to open the way through; you don’t need to come with us. Do it."
He regards her in silence and the guys exchange looks. What’s happening here?
In typical Portia style, she stalks from the room, calling back to the Collector that she’ll be in touch.
"You can open the portal?" Xander asks incredulously as the door closes. "You better fucking hadn’t."
"I would like to see what secrets the books hold first," he replies.
His words are implied: and then he’ll make his decision, despite what he said to Portia.
Ripley slaps his hands on the table. "Well, this meeting suddenly became more entertaining than expected!"
Xander slumps back in my chair and nod at the Collector. "Who has the stone? Syv or you?"
Syv delves into her pockets and pulls out a roughly hewn grey stone, one that looks as if it matches the part we found in Cambridge.
Joss reaches out to take the stone and turns it over in his hands. "I don’t understand how this will help; these look like exactly the same symbols as the other half."
"That’s where Breanna can help," says Ripley. "Hopefully she’ll be back soon."
"Hopefully?" coughs Ewan. "She better bloody had be."
"I’m sure she wants to save the world too," replies Logan.
I look over as the fae breaks his silence. What does he think about Portia offering to hand him her kingdom on a plate? Or is he also considering leaving?
Xander pulls the other stone from his pocket; he hasn’t let it out of sight since Syv gave him it. Taking the new one from Joss, he places them close. A collective breath is held, replaced by relieved smiles when the pair fit together and match.
"We’re taking this with us, until Breanna returns." Xander stands and snatches the stones from the table.
"Why you?" retorts Ripley.
"Because this concerns us! I don’t trust you."
"And what if I don’t trust you?" he asks and stands too.
Ewan sister forward. "Tough. The Collector has the book, and we have the stones. Don’t worry, we’ll keep you informed what this says. When Breanna returns she can check over our findings."
Ripley curls his lip at Xander, who interrupts his response. "Don’t you think interpreting this sooner rather than later will help us all?Yes, all this goes against everything I believe in but—"
"You’re in a vulnerable position?" suggests Logan.
Xander throws him a scowl. "We’re leaving. Now. We need to figure this out as soon as possible. Contact Breanna."
The Collector steps forward. "I can help, because I think you’ll struggle to do this alone. I have more practice with this kind of thing."
Xander smiles and waves a hand at him. "There you go. A neutral third party."
"Sure he is." Ripley stands. "You agree to see Breanna as soon as she returns."
"We want to see her," I say. "Because until we do, I’m sure we won’t find all the answers."
Syv stretches out her shoulders. "Are we headed back, Col? I need grab my gear from your place, and then I’m heading out for a drink. Several drinks."
The Collector nods. "Yes. Horsemen, I would like you to bring the stones to me and we can attempt to translate the text together. If you have any other books that could help, please collect them and come to my house."
As Xander pushes the stones into his pocket, Ripley ends his protest, aware he’s beaten.
18
JOSS
Something’s wrong.
As Heath drives closer to the farmhouse, I sense the wards are broken, or at least damaged in some way. Vee sits besides me and leans forward to survey the driveway.
"Do you feel that, Joss?" she whispers and looks to Joss in the back.
"I haven’t felt something like this since the day in the car park, when Ewan was attacked."
"Shit." Heath pulls the car to one side and stop horizontally across the driveway to prevent Xander’s car passing. Immediately, Xander slams his brakes on and jumps from the car. I lower my window as he approaches.
"What the fuck, dude?" He throws his hands upwards.
Vee leans around me. "Something’s here."
Xander steps back and sweeps a gaze around. "Seth?"
"We can’t detect Seth," I reply. "No. Something I can’t identify."
"Shit! What? Do we leave? How bad is it?"
I climb from the car and scratch an eyebrow as I look around. "I’m not sure. Strong enough that we can feel it from here."
All five of us are out of the cars and together, Xander’s hand in his pocket, clenched around the stone. We stand slightly apart, turning to survey the flat landscape surrounding the fields, gazing into the trees.
The world remains still.
My heart beats faster and the power inside grows, triggered harder by whatever waits for us.
"I can’t figure exactly where either. The whole estate reeks of something weird. Whatever this is may not be in the house. Should we check everywhere?"
"We should’ve expected this," says Heath in a low voice. "Seth broke the wards once before, when he left the fae body and his bloodied message."
Ewan huffs. "Oh yeah, and when he fucking lived with us."
Vee looks at the ground, hair hanging forward and obscuring her face. I poke Ewan and nod at her.
"Do you think this is what they saw in Paris? Is this something still looking for the stone?" I interrupt.
"No, the Collector said he’d dealt with that."
"Stop hanging around talking. Come on. Who’s going inside the house, and who’s checking the other buildings?" asks Ewan.
"I’ll take Vee to see what she can sense; Heath, you can go in with Joss. Ewan, wait outside." Xander pulls out the stones. "I’ll keep hold of these."
"No, don’t keep them together. Give one to somebody else—Vee’s the strongest."
I look to Heath. None of us have spoken the words before, but he’s right, whether Xander likes it or not. With a curt nod, he starts walking to the edge of the fields and towards the old barn. Hesitantly, I open the door to the house. Vee follows Xander.
VEE
Xander hands the stone to me. "Heath’s right. We don’t want one person holding them both if we do meet something." We continue to tramp toward the barn. "Can you sense anything around here?"
I close my eyes and inhale, the earthy winter scent muddled by the acrid smell assaulting me when demons are around.
"It’s fainter here."
"So we're headed the wrong way?" he asks.
"I definitely felt t
he presence stronger near the house."
"Let’s take a quick look here anyway." I nod and follow as he stomps away again. "The barn. Maybe the dog came back."
"This doesn’t feel like the dog’s presence."
The vast, double doors to the old building creak on the hinges as Xander pulls them open. On the other side, the metal door is gouged by scratches, presumably from Syv’s dog. The barn is empty and has been for years, rusted farm tools are tossed in a corner amongst old paint tins. I smile at other bottles and cloths arranged on a wooden shelf; looks like Xander does his own car detailing.
I frown and shake my head. "I can detect something, but it might be Spot."
Xander repeats the name derisively and turns to leave. As I follow, I notice something else.
"Xander. Do you guys sleep in here sometimes?"
"Why?"
"I don’t know. Like when you argue and want to get away from each other." Like the big kids you can be.
He screws up his face. "I had other places and people to escape for a few hours, and it didn’t involve cold, dank barns."
I swallow down my jealousy. "I bet you did."
"All of us, Vee, not just me," he says, and I look in surprise as he touches my arm.
I shrug him off. "That’s not really relevant right now. Is someone sleeping here?" Walking to a corner, I indicate a screwed-up blanket on the ground on top of a pile of clothes. "Are these from the house?"
Xander crouches down and lifts up the item. "I’m not expert on what blankets we use, but it could be." He looks at the jeans and then holds up a blue shirt.
"This is Ewan’s," I say. "Maybe he hides out in here?"
"Huh." Xander straightens. "If he does, that’s bloody weird."
"So these aren’t yours from when you’re babysitting."
"What?"
"Your baby?" I ask with a smile, then add. "The Aston."
"Very funny." He continues to stare at the items on the floor. "Do they smell of demons?"
"What? I’m not sniffing them!"
"No, can you detect them?"
I shiver, aware we’re backed into a corner if somebody walks through the doors. "Nothing here. Let’s go."
