by Helen Scott
Chapter 3
Hal’s heart pounded in his chest as he screamed for Robin. She’d been holding his hand not two seconds ago, and now she was gone. Vanished into thin air. Adrenaline pumped through his system, and though part of him wanted to stay there if she came back, the rest of him, the more protective side, had him striding out. He lapped the field once, twice, three times, all the while calling her name, but she was nowhere to be found.
He pulled a hair tie out of his pocket and bound his loose locks up into a quick ponytail so he could focus. The last thing he needed right now was his hair getting in the way. He’d thought about cutting it, but then when Robin ran her fingers through it and put little braids in it when she thought he wasn’t paying attention, he banished the thought.
Pulling his cell phone from his pocket, he moved to the edge of the field and called Alec.
“What’s wrong?” His brother picked up after the second ring, knowing the only reason Hal would call over the next couple days was if there was an emergency.
“Robin vanished.”
“Vanished how?”
“She was standing next to me. We were holding hands, watching the fire and everything get started, and then her hand dropped from mine, and when I looked over, she was just gone. I can’t find her anywhere. There are more supernatural beings here than I thought there would be. If one of them sensed that she was a banshee, then they could have taken her.”
“Hal, you couldn’t even sense that she was a banshee when you first met her, so I doubt they took her. Who’s there?”
“Some shifters, some fae, witches. I don’t know.”
“The shifters are your best bet for tracking her scent, especially if they’re wolves.”
“Okay, okay. I can figure that out.” Hal calmed now that he had a task. The overwhelming panic that had been setting in was pushed to the side in favor of action. Alec was good at grounding him. It wasn’t often that he froze, except when it came to Robin. She made him react in ways he had never expected, and she had done ever since they’d first met.
“Call me back with what they say.”
Hal hung up and went in search of the magic he’d felt earlier. His skill with water allowed him to look at the way things worked. Usually that was restricted to the human body, but with enough focus, he could break enchantments and figure out what made something magically tick. That was the side of it he used now. It was fortunate that Ireland was an island, since it kept a lot of moisture in the air, moisture he could use.
He subtly created a water window that hovered in front of him. It was little more than a few drops of water, but it was enough for him to pick out a shifter over a witch or something else. The cold chill that went down his spine wasn’t comforting. He’d heard rumors of a resurgence of the vampire population and hoped that they were wrong. Most of the magical beings kept to themselves, or at least, their own pantheon, and out of each other’s way, but vamps and shifters tended to pick fights with one another, which drew in other magical beings, and soon, if they weren’t careful, all hell would break loose.
A trio of shifters stood to the back of the crowd. He couldn’t read into their magic enough to tell what they were, not without causing a scene and outing his own magical abilities. His only hope was that they would be concerned enough to help.
“Fellas.” He cleared his throat as he approached them, keeping his body loose and his tone low so only they could hear him. “Listen, I need your help. My name is Hal and my girlfriend has gone missing. I don’t know what kinds of shifters you are, but any help you can offer I would appreciate.”
The men all leveled a hard stare at him.
“Who the hell are you?” The first man in the group pointed a finger into Hal’s chest. He spoke with an American accent, which was surprising.
Hal was taller, broader, and probably stronger than any of them, but shifters were notoriously prideful and unwilling to back down from a fight, which was exactly what he didn’t want. “I belong to the Greek pantheon; one of my abilities is sensing magic. I just need your help.”
“She’s missin’, ye say?” A different man piped up, his lyrical Irish accent flowing off his tongue in a way that made the American in the group sound harsh and blunt.
All three were brunettes, and they all had a similar look about them, like they were distant relatives.
“Yes. She was holding my hand, I felt her shiver, and then I thought she just let go, but she was gone.”
“Is she part of our world?’
Hal nodded his affirmation, but he wasn’t about to specify what Robin was.
“I don’t like to hear of anyone being lost,” the Irishman said, rubbing the scruffy almost-beard that ran along his jaw before sticking his hand out toward Hal. “I’m Aiden. Show me where you last saw her.” They shook hands.
The three of them followed Hal over to where he and Robin had been standing. It was almost like Hal could feel her there, but she wasn’t. Most likely it was just wishful thinking on his part. He rubbed the back of his neck as the men moved around the area.
“Aiden, here,” the American said as he took long deep breaths over the area where Robin had been standing.
“Good,” Aiden said as he came and repeated the action. His eyes landed on him. “She has fae magic?”
Hal simply shrugged, neither confirming nor denying what they could probably scent from where they had been standing.
The other man seemed to have calmed down now that the Irishman had taken over. He couldn’t help but wonder what their animals were and who ranked where in their pack structure.
Moments later, Hal heard the American call out.
“Chris?” The man searched the surrounding crowd with panic, pinching the corners of his eyes.
Just like that, someone else was missing. Hal hadn’t had much of an impression of the guy since he hadn’t uttered a word, but he hoped they found both Robin and Chris soon.
“Shit,” Hal cursed. “What’s going on?”
“The veil. It’s thin tonight, so much so that Donn can sometimes pass through. He’s a fekin’ gobshite on Samhain.” Noticing Hal’s raised eyebrow, the man added, “He likes to stir up trouble for everyone. Usually he just plays pranks, like, but recent years, he’s been kidnappin’ and scarin’ folk.”
“Who’s Donn?”
“The Celtic god of the dead. The numpty’s got his own island and everythin’, but apparently it’s not enough.”
The American came to join them, confirming Aiden’s suspicions. “I can smell her and Chris, but their scents just stop, like they were plucked out of thin air.”
“Fekin’ Donn.” The man shook his head.
“So, why haven’t these disappearances been in the news?”
“Usually the people come back before mornin’, but not always. He likes to play games with them. I think he’s just bored.”
“What can we do?”
“Probably nothing, except hang around, hoping they reappear,” the American said.
“Steve’s right. It’s just a waiting game. If they are smart and crafty enough, they’ll get out. Donn’s tricks aren’t impossible.”
Hal wasn’t sure what to make of the situation. He and his brothers had all spent time in various countries at some point or another during their long lives. They had seen lots of things, met a multitude of people, creatures, and even some gods, but this was the first time he’d encountered a god who was so bored, he played tricks. He pulled his phone back out and sent Alec a quick text, advising him of the situation. All he could do was pray to any of the gods and goddesses who would listen that his soulmate would return to him. If she didn’t, he was likely to go insane.
Once souls were found each other, splitting them was not recommended and could have devastating consequences for the one left behind. He rubbed the back of his neck and stared into the fire, willing his feisty banshee to return to him.
Chapter 4
Robin’s vision cleared, and she sto
od in front of a throne made of skulls. The area around it was almost pitch black, the walls fading to nothingness in front of her eyes. The man who had touched her back was sitting in it. The big fur pelt that had been on his shoulder now rested behind his head, over the back of the throne. The room was dimly lit with red candles and had a floor of stone that had been smoothed so much that it looked almost like marble. It reminded her of the meeting place of the Order of Talos that she ended up in a few months ago. It was not a memory she wanted in her mind ever again, so she thought of Hal. His warmth and love filled her as though he were standing right next to her.
“Welcome to Tech Duinn, the House of the Dark One.” He had a beautiful Irish accent and dark eyes that seemed to peer into her soul as he spoke.
A moment later, a man appeared by her side.
“What the bloody hell’s goin’ on?” he shouted.
“Mind your tongue, boyo. That any way to speak to the god of the dead?”
“I’m dead?” the man squeaked, voicing the question that had flown into Robin’s own mind at the statement.
“Not yet. You will be by morning if you don’t escape, though, and then I get your soul. Each of you will fetch me a pretty penny if I choose to sell you, but for now, I’ll give you the chance everyone has on Samhain—escape and live, or don’t and you belong to me.”
“Escape what?” Robin asked, putting her hands on her hips. She’d seen enough the last year that someone claiming to be a god didn’t scare her as much anymore, especially if that god was long forgotten.
“This!” He spread his arms wide, indicating the whole room.
“There are doors all around us. Doesn’t seem like much of a challenge,” the man chimed in, and Robin wanted to smack him up the back of the head. Standing your ground was one thing, but there was no need to instigate the god.
“Just because you see doors doesn’t mean they will let you out,” the god said, a wry smile on his face.
They might be able to get out of this room easily, but that didn’t mean they could escape the house or wherever it was just as easily. She was willing to bet that there was a single door that would open to release them back into the world, and she’d be damned if she wasn’t going to find it, literally. If he was a god of the dead, then she would be in his hell, wherever that may be, or he was going to sell her soul, but she wasn’t sure what that meant, either. There were too many unknowns for her to feel comfortable.
“May we go?” Robin asked, unsure of the rules.
“Go! Run to your little hearts’ content. My money is on you staying put.” He winked at her, and she shivered.
Turning, she gestured with her head to the man, and he followed her out of the main door. She had no idea where she was going, but she figured that if they worked together, it would have to be easier.
“I’m Robin. Why don’t we figure this out together?”
“Chris.” The man nodded as he reached in his back pocket and pulled out a cell phone. He tapped at the screen, and it stayed ominously black.
“Left or right?” She looked each way down the hallway. There were no indications of which direction might lead out of this nightmare.
“Right.”
Together, they set off. At first, they stopped at every room together, going in and looking around for anything that might give them clues to the exits, and then as time felt like it was slipping by, they began splitting up. They each tackled their own room and met up back in the hallway after a couple minutes. Some of the rooms were just empty cubes of stone, while others were lavishly decorated with beds and couches, and still others were storage areas. There didn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason as to what would be behind the doors. The place wasn’t set up so all the bedrooms were together or all the storage areas were close by. It almost felt like someone had just rolled a die and let that determine the layout of the place. When Robin found herself alone, waiting in the dreary hallway for too long, she went into the room that Chris was supposed to be searching.
A woman sat in a chair, talking to a giant wolf. The thing was beyond anything Robin had ever seen. Admittedly, she hadn’t seen wolves in real life, but everything she knew about them said they weren’t as big as the animal in front of her.
“What the . . .” She gasped as she took in the sight, the words out of her mouth before she could think better of them.
Both wolf and woman turned to watch her. Robin’s body was frozen. Her feet felt cemented to the ground she stood on. When the wolf’s lips peeled back in an angry snarl, exposing gleaming white teeth, every fiber of her being told her to run, and yet she couldn’t. Her heart hammered in her chest, and a bead of sweat rolled down the curve of her back. She risked looking at the woman instead of the wolf and found her to be taking in the scene with interest.
“Easy.”
That one word uttered by the woman seemed to quiet the animal, who proceeded to take up residence by her feet like a guard dog. Robin watched her with guarded hope. If she lived in the House of the Dark One, then she had to know a way out, right?
“Banshee, come forward.”
When Robin didn’t move, the woman sighed and stood. Her long light-green dress billowed out behind her as she moved toward Robin, even though there wasn’t much space or any excess wind. As she drew closer, her golden eyes became apparent, along with the rich caramel color of her hair, which curled slightly around her face and at the ends, as though she were too warm. The gentle waves of her hair fell past her shoulders down to her waist, and in the glint of light, Robin realized that the headband she wore was made of leaves, flowers, and berries.
“I am not going to harm you.” The woman’s voice skated over Robin’s skin, as though it were unnatural. It almost sounded hollow, as though she were missing part of herself.
“Who are you?” The question had been battering at her lips since she’d first walked in the room, and now that it was free, the woman just smiled.
“I’m a druidess Donn has chosen to be his entertainment for many centuries.”
“Why don’t you just leave?”
“I have been unable to open the door and leave. When Donn took me, he didn’t count on the fact that he cannot sell my soul or send it anywhere. He should have planned better before he claimed my life on that hilltop so many years ago.” She chuckled ruefully as she swept the hair away from her neck and back over her shoulder. Intricate yet bold tattoos decorated her shoulders and neck. She shrugged off the outer layer of material, which was evidently a coat or cloak of some kind, and revealed the bright white dress underneath, as well as more tattoos.
“I don’t understand.”
“Donn took me, as he has taken you, on Samhain. I had just given birth to three beautiful boys, and he forced them to grow up without a mother. He set me the same challenge as you—find the door and you are free to leave. I was unable to do so for a very long time, and when I did, I was unable to open it, so I remain here. My markings make him unable to claim my soul. He cannot sell it or send me anywhere else.”
“So you do or don’t know where the door is after being here for centuries?” Robin’s heart stopped at the implication. Her mind was racing too fast to follow exactly what the woman was saying. Half of her screamed at her to move, find the door, and ignore the woman. The other half encouraged her to see the potential resource the woman could be.
“Oh, I know where it is. I just am not able to open it.”
“Can you take me to it? Maybe without your dog?”
“You mean him?” She motioned to the wolf.
Robin nodded.
“He’s not mine. Isn’t he yours? He was dressed similarly to you.” She gestured to Robin’s clothing.
“You’re saying this was a man?” She half laughed, half coughed, unsure of what to make of the woman. If she had been stuck with Donn for centuries, then maybe she’d lost her marbles.
“He is a shifter, yes.”
“Shifter . . .” The word whispered out of her mouth as h
er brain connected the dots. The large gray and black wolf in front of her was Chris. His yellow eyes stared her down, almost challenging her not to believe it, but it was that very intelligence that convinced her of the truth. “Okay, well, Chris, um, you stay however you want.”
The woman chuckled.
“What’s your name?” Robin asked.
“Tlachtga.”
“Like the hill?”
Tlachtga’s eyebrows furrowed. “The hill?”
“There’s a hill in Ireland that has a similar name.” She paused, and when the woman didn’t say anything, she asked, “How long have you been down here again?”
“More years than I can count.”
She wasn’t sure what to say to that. There was no way the hill could be named after her, right? Her head was spinning, so all she managed to get out was, “I’m Robin.”
“Well, Robin, I’m happy to show you where the door is and wish you luck in opening it.”
“Has anyone opened it before?”
“Oh, yes. I just was never present. Surprisingly, not many find me. I know each year when Donn leaves. I can feel his energy dissipate, and I can sense when there are other people here, but few check thoroughly enough to find me. Not that I’m hiding!” She added the last with a smile.
Robin nodded and followed the woman down the hall. When they made a few turns, they arrived at the end of a hallway that was so out of the way, she knew that without Tlachtga’s help, she never would have even found the door, let alone have a chance at opening it. There were two doors, one on each side of the dead end. She instinctively reached for the door on her right.
“Wrong one, unless you wish to go speak with Donn once again.” A delicate blonde eyebrow arched as she spoke.
Robin turned and tried to open the door on the left. When she felt the handle turn and the weight of the solid wood door move, her breath caught. Could it be that easy?
