TRUE (A Fire Born Novel Book 3)

by Laney McMann

  "The dead rest in the places beyond." My head whipped up.

  High in the overhang of gloom draping the stairs, the Morrigan made her way down the deteriorated steps, her snuggly fit cloak wrapping her waist, skin like white marble gleaming against the grey backdrop. I took an unthinking step back, hands opening automatically.

  "But you did not come all this way to meet with the dead." She smiled, red lips contrasting against her straight teeth. "I expected you much sooner than today if I speak honestly." Her high-heeled boots clapped off the stone with an echo. She was exactly as I remembered her in my nightmare, as if it had not been a dream. As if she'd been enshrined in the ancient world. Her own living tomb.

  "Cat have your tongue?" She flashed a quick, scheming grin. "The first MacCoinnich, even as a boy, was brighter than you have ever been. He would have found me sooner than now. Hunted me down, I am sure." She laughed. "Angry last I saw him. He would have come after me with all the power a god possesses, were he still alive, but you ..." She shook her head like someone scolding a child. "You are not him. Only shadows and slivers of your former soul. But ..." A shrug popped her shoulders up. "I ensured that would be the case, so I must not hold it against you." The Crone stopped a few feet above me on a higher step, and I was stunned into complete silence. Her body had a slight shimmer as if catching the light.

  Her gaze went toward my neck. "I see King Elethan has marked you as his own. The Fomore like to have control."

  My hand covered the Fomorian Coat of Arms on my throat. "He tried to control me, but it didn't work." I wasn't sure admitting it was the best idea, but I wanted her to know all the same.

  "No? He did not succeed? Hm. We shall see." Her gaze shifted toward Sam. "This is who you have chosen to follow? King Elethan may have his faults, a foolish man, truly, but an angel with a rank such as yourself should find himself doing better than this." Her chin nudged in my direction. "If this is all that is left of the MacCoinnich you once were born to serve."

  Born to serve?

  Sam seemed to have as equal an amount of trouble finding his voice as I did.

  "What did you do to Layla?" I finally managed to ask.

  "Layla?" She spat the name out. "I do despise that dreadful name. It is not even Irish. There is no true Ancient named Layla. Only a shade of a girl who used to be Teine. The one who holds the Fire, my beloved niece. Teine is alive and well again because of me. Did you know?"

  Words wouldn't form anywhere in my brain.

  She grinned. "By now, Teine should be competing for the new body she has found herself residing in. Whether or not your precious Layla survives the influx of the other half of her soul is entirely up to her. Is she strong enough?" Her dark eyes sparkled and her body shimmered again. "We shall see."

  "What did you do to her?" I took a step forward, fists clenched. "Explain the Raven Ogham on the back of her neck."

  The Morrigan laughed. "Before you blame me or try to attack me as I am sure you would like to do, know that the girl lives because of me and me alone. The Raven Ogham was of her choosing. She said the words that made it appear. No one forced her." The same scheming grin graced her marbled face.

  "Because she thought she could save me from the Shadows. Agrona told her that. Your ... servant." The muscles in my jaw tightened and jumped. My fists unclenched to open wide, hands at my sides.

  "The hag is not my servant. She lives a half-life, between this world and the other, and as I said, the girl made a choice. Her own choice." The Morrigan's gaze traveled toward my hands. Wind whistled through the destroyed building, rocks and plaster falling to resounding booms on the ground in the distance. "Harm me and you harm your betrothed, I shall make sure of that. Well ... wait, do you plan to marry the girl as your former self planned?" She lifted a curious brow.

  "I ..." The question threw me. What?

  "You are young." Her hand waved through the air. "And as I said, not the same person you once were. Children matured much faster in the Ancient world. Why, by the age you are now, had I allowed it, MacCoinnich and Teine would likely have had a family. Children running about, making a mess of the castle as all children do."

  I had no response, but the images crept into the outskirts of my brain, impossible to shake, and knocked my breath away. A family. With Layla.

  "You are dedicated to the girl," she went on. "Clearly, willing to risk your life for her, but unsure if she is the one you will marry?" She gave a mocking shake of her head and clicked her tongue. "What kind of love is that? It is not true love, I assure you. True love conquers all. Time, space, distance, none of that matters if the love is true. One never gives up or walks away. Well, so I am told. I have no use for such ties. They bore me." She took another step down, gaze centered on mine. "You believe me stupid, don't you? I know you planned to destroy me through the girl in the Battle." She laughed. "Ensure I am unable to return to the world of the living, and break my bond to the girl, freeing her. Freeing your angels in the process."

  I released a breath. Return to the living ... Those words rattled in my head.

  "I am smarter than you give me credit for, and I know far more than you believe I do. Could you have destroyed me while still keeping the girl alive? Perhaps. Perhaps not. I do not see how it matters. I simply changed the rules." Her dark eyes flashed. "I can do that. Accursed Arts are at my disposal always." She took another step down the stairs, and I caught sight of her body from the side—completely transparent, like a sheer curtain fluttering in a breeze. "No one believed of my continued existence until only recently. You surely did not. My Teine knew, of course. She has felt me for months now, infiltrating her blood, her mind, slowly waking her from her frozen tomb. And your Layla, well, fragile minds are easy to toy with. Especially those who are in love. All she had to lose was you. Rejoining the split souls was a simple matter of time after she believed you turned Demon God. And time—time is always on my side."

  A growl escaped my throat. I had no idea how she knew all of that. My gaze went to Sam.

  He shook his head. "Wasn't me."

  "You should listen to the gargoyle," the Crone said, her gaze focused toward Sam again. "How is the shell I cursed you to? You seem quite untouched. Still angelic." A disapproving sound escaped her throat.

  Sam shifted in an instant, and loomed over her. He had always been larger than both Justice and Tristan in his monstrous state. Fiercer in the way his long fangs bit over his lips, taloned hands curled in on themselves, and horns cut through his scalp, more devil than gargoyle. "Not so angelic now," he growled.

  "Ah." The Morrigan grinned, her white teeth gleaming. "Yes, my handiwork is quite lovely."

  Sam shifted back, breath heaving as his glare stayed locked on her.

  "Elethan promised to release you from your current state should you help him? Is that correct?"

  "Yes," Sam answered.

  "And you believed Elethan strong enough to counteract a curse of my making? An Accursed Art? You aren't that foolish, Samuel, I know. You have chosen the right side, weaker perhaps than before, but the right side all the same. I do not hold any ill will against you." She shifted her eyes toward me again. "So, let us cut to the chase, MacCoinnich. I have an offer for you."

  "Can't wait," I said through gritted teeth.

  "Join me."

  I laughed. "You're kidding?"

  She took another measured step so she was standing two steps above me. "I don't kid."

  I held my ground. "And why would I join you?" I knew the answer as the question reached the tip of my lips.

  "You know why. Help me, or your Layla dies."

  My head bowed. "What do you want?"

  "I want what I have always wanted. You."

  "Me," I laughed again, but the sound choked off in my throat and turned into a bitter snarl. "You want me. The person you just said was weak, a shadow of who I used to be." I couldn't restrain the harshness in my laugh. "For what? To rule this decrepit world at your side?" I glared at her. "Looks like you'r
e ruling the land of the dead just fine all on your own."

  "What I want," she seemed to ignore everything I said, "is to rule all the Realms. The Tuatha Dé Danaan and the Fomorian peoples. To reunite the Lesser Gods into the Ancient Fire Born fold once again. You and I are the only Ancients strong enough to do that. You could have your peace, and I my place as ruler. My wish is to have you, the rightful heir to the throne, at my side."

  "Ah, the rightful heir. There's the keyword. You can't rule without me because you have no right." I grinned, knowing I had her.

  "I have every right!" Her face bled from white to red. "Your parents took away my right and handed it to two ... children! Two children who knew nothing of the world, nothing about anything, simply because ..." She glanced toward my neck and looked away, but not fast enough for me to notice that she was looking toward the Fomorian Coat of Arms. "It was my place. My rightful place."

  My hand went to the side of my throat. "What else?" I glanced at Sam, but his eyes were trained toward the Crone, posture tense, as if he was readying himself to pounce and take her out. I wondered how far he'd get. "What else were you going to say?"

  The Morrigan's jaw tightened, and for the first time, she seemed unnerved.

  "Better tell him," Sam said, still not glancing in my direction. "He's quicker than you give him credit for, and stronger, and honestly, by the way things are looking back in the Shadow Realm, I'm not sure he has a lot more to lose at this point."

  The Morrigan still didn't speak, but her eyes grew darker. "Do not threaten me, Fallen one, or I will rip you limb from limb, and you too will know the true wrath of the curse as your fellow, Ryan, knew it when he tried to cross paths with me. My reach remains far and wide, and you are very close as we speak."

  Sam let out what had to be an involuntary breath, and my mouth dropped opened. Ryan crossed paths with her? Why?

  "What else were you going to say?" I asked her again.

  "Your former self was born with the Aethereal Ogham." Her tone tensed, jaw set. "It was the reason, the only reason, you were chosen over me to rule along with Teine. The Twin Souls. The ones everyone had been waiting for," she said with a sneer and obvious contempt. "The Two that were born of the highest of Realms."

  I glanced at Sam, shocked, who gave a quick nod, his gaze still locked in the Crone's direction.

  "They were more powerful than you. Weren't they?" It dawned on me, understanding finally. "That's why their ages, Teine's and MacCoinnich's, didn't matter? They were stronger than you even as children."

  "They were not powerful enough to stop me killing both of them! Not smart enough to stop me, and you certainly are not more powerful now. The Aethereal Ogham did not show up when MacCoinnich's soul was reborn in you. As I said, you are weak in this life, but I still need you to stand at my side as you do have the right that was stolen from me."

  "I see." I bowed my head with a slight grin. "And Layla lives?" I glanced up at her. "If I stand by your side. You leave her alone. From now on?"

  "Max ..." Sam hit my arm, but I paid him no attention.

  "She lives," the Crone conceded. "As Layla, mind you, not as Teine. Not with Teine's strength. There is a difference."

  I was certainly beginning to understand that. If I didn't know why before, I knew now the reason Layla's voice sounded so off when she first entered the castle was because it hadn't been her at all. Just like in the nightmare I'd had—me seeing Teine in the dream and not Layla. "And what does that mean, exactly? If I help you rule? Layla gets stripped from her rightful place as the heir to the Tuatha Dé throne? Under her grandmother, the Queen?"

  She laughed. "Teine's rightful place is under me. She will live as such, trapped within the weaker one's body. Layla's body. Assuring she stays out of the way, along with all the Lesser peoples of the Realms: Fae, Merrows, and Dryads alike. If you do not agree, then your girl will perish. Teine's strength is far too great for the weaker one to control. My presence in her being is the only reason the weak girl lives. Teine would have pushed the girl's existence out of the body they now share, had I allowed it, and burned the Fomore castle to the ground with you inside of it."

  I stared at her in utter disbelief.

  "Yes, Teine is that powerful, and she is that angry. That I killed her betrothed and trapped her in a freezing tomb doesn't seem to have set well. Not to mention awakening to the likes of you and not her MacCoinnich. Nevertheless, once I remove myself from the weaker girl's body, Teine will either take control, and your girl will die, or depending on your answer here today, I will ensure she lives."

  "But ... she won't be Layla anymore, if Teine stays," I said mostly to myself, her words settling in my brain. "Is she ... is she still herself? Layla? Will she be?" After seeing Layla with Justice the night before, sparks growing in her palms at the sight of me, I was afraid I already knew the answer. She wouldn't be. Maybe the Layla I knew and loved was already gone. It would explain the change in her voice and her demeanor. Maybe Teine had already taken control. I wanted to throw up again.

  "The weak girl," the Crone said, "your Layla, died outside the Fomorian gates, just before she entered days ago."

  All the air punched free of my body at her words, cold and direct, and I suddenly needed to sit down, or fall down.

  "Teine's influx back into the living world, into a living body, killed Layla. It happens." The Morrigan gave a quick, nonchalant shrug. "I brought her back to life."

  "What?" That's why she was covered in blood, unsteady on her feet. Oh, my god.

  The Morrigan waved a bored hand through the air. "I resurrected the girl. For you. So that you would agree to my terms today. I could easily have let her perish there on the cold ground had I preferred it. Allowed her body to rise again as Teine, and Teine alone. Allowed her to destroy the Shadow Realm, but as I said, that is not my desire. Not my aim. I need you, and you need Layla, so I believe we can agree that what I did was best for both parties."

  It was as though she was checking off an agenda at a board meeting, astute and without emotion. "And the Battle?" I asked, reeling, unable to concentrate fully. "What about that?"

  "It will be fought, and you will win, but you always knew you would win." She gave a sweet smile that reminded me of Ana in a sickening way. "I have enough control over the girl's will to ensure it is the case. You do not have to kill her. Unless you wish it. If so, I will not stand in your way, but I assure you, it will not harm me."

  A growl released from my throat. I couldn't focus. Layla ... died? What?

  "You will relinquish your relationship with the girl if you choose to keep her alive." The Crone's dark-eyed gaze flashed in my direction. "Do not think you can simply sit alongside me, and keep your beloved in your bed. Although I believe someone else may have taken up residence there." Her smile widened, and I could taste bile in my mouth. "Either way, I shall be the only one lying beside you. You can inform your ... Vampyre Fae."

  The blood drained from my face and somehow heated in my veins simultaneously, creating a sickening roil in my stomach. I couldn't have slept with Ana. Couldn't have. And I am sure as hell not sleeping with the Morrigan.

  "Furthermore," she went on. "King Elethan believes he is helping me, reawakening me from the dead if the girl is killed, as he would say. Stupid man, but I would prefer him to believe it, so the Battle must be fought. I do not need him meddling in my affairs any further than he has already done."

  What the hell? "Elethan knows you're alive?"

  "Are you truly this slow?" She glanced toward Sam with an expression like she was scolding a puppy for following the wrong kid home. "He knows what I deem fit for him to know and no more. The King believes me to be spirit."

  "Are you?"

  She smiled but didn't reply.

  "Fine. You keep Layla alive, and then we rule?" I asked, hearing words come from my mouth. "All you want is to sit in your golden throne next to me and look down from your crumbling castle onto everyone, or no one really," I glanced around the emp
ty fortress, "below you? That's all this is about?" Is she insane?

  "You will lie beside me as well as sit. The castle, and all of Mag Mell, will then be returned to its former glory. The people of the Realms will relocate here, abandoning their current homes in the World of Light or the Shadow Realm. Therefore, there will be people below me. The Fae and other low-lying creatures may maintain their current lands as I would rather not associate with any of them." She gave a shudder. "I will be free to roam as I wish and rule the Realms as was the right your parents stole from me."

  "Roam as you wish?"

  She didn't answer again, only sneered.

  "You're trapped here." It was a statement, not a question. "You can't leave Mag Mell, can you? That's why your body doesn't look solid ... because it isn't. You're nothing but a ghost of your former self. No more than Teine or MacCoinnich are."

  Her posture steeled, eyes darkening.

  "You're only shadows and light. A ghost like all the other ghosts in the Afterworld."

  "Be careful, MacKenzie. I am being very kind. I do not have to be."

  I glanced down at the steps and back up to her. "One more question."

  She motioned with an impatient flourish of her pale hand.

  "Why did you resurrect Teine?" I thought I knew the answer. "Why bring her back at all?"

  Grinning, she didn't answer that question either, and turned, making her way back up the steps.

  "You need her," I said. "Teine. She's sustaining you somehow. Like a host. All this time. Isn't she?"

  "Join me, MacKenzie. Join me, and your Layla lives. That is truly your only concern, I believe. Go fight your Battle, and return to me soon." She stopped and turned back. "And when you are by my side, the rightful rulers will reclaim the Ancient city."

  14

  LAYLA

  "The Battle is in the morning at dawn." Justice paced in front of me in the narrow section of woods he'd found for us to 'practice' in, as he called it, snowflakes landing in his hair and on the fabric of his heavy jacket. "You're not even trying." He'd become more anxious with every step he took after he'd woken up covered in the blankets I'd thrown at him in the wee hours of the morning. "You only get one chance, one shot."