She looked me up and down, and tsked when I didn’t tremble or some such. “As arrogant as the mother.”
“As crazy as the son. Chip of the old block and all that I guess. Nothing doing.” I shrugged. “How’s Mordred by the way? Hope the bars don’t ruin the view too much.”
A flicker in her eyes, not quite sane and not quite human, she grinned and said, “Kill her.”
My father obviously fought the command, his jaw clenching, but stood. And reached for his sword.
NINETEEN
“N–” Morgan couldn’t finish her command since Kylian chose that moment to yank at the chain wrapped around her wrist.
Highlight.Of.The.Day. I enjoyed the sound of her arm popping out of the joint and her indignant scream.
But despite her cut off words my father still approached, gripping the hilt of his sword. At my frowning glance he bit out, “You’re the Hunted. I have to kill you, whatever she says. It doesn’t matter.”
Ah, shit. My father was forced to kill me but I couldn’t kill him without becoming the next Lord of the Wild Hunt. Tight spot, tight spot.
As I tried to back away from him, out of the corner of my eye, I saw one group of hunters attack Kylian while another moved to form a circle around me and their Lord. Great. The Wild Hunt was Morgan’s creation after all and unfortunately it seemed they wouldn’t just look away when their mistress was threatened. Without having any other choice I pulled Cutter from the hidden sheath on my back, damning the rope around my wrists restraining my movements.
Seeing my predicament and proving his reluctance to hurt me my father closed his eyes, struggling, and then with a wave of his hand the collar, chain and rope disappeared. I rotated my wrist to warm up my muscles, trying to ignore the pain as the blood flowed freely again. This would be interesting.
The Lord of the Wild Hunt shuddered and closed his eyes as he obviously lost his inner battle. Opening them I saw hard brown eyes staring back at me, and then my father attacked.
He was good with a sword and in crazy, distant part of my brain it made me grin, knowing that I had not only inherited a sword but also the skill of wielding one from my father. I deflected the blow and instead of going swiftly for his neck I went a little lower, letting Cutter get a bite of his shoulder. I couldn’t kill him, not only because I didn’t want to become the next Lord of the Hunt but also because the thought of killing my own father, who so obviously fought for me, was abhorrent to me. I had never met him in the over thousand years of my existence, of which I only remembered the last twenty-five years, but I had recognized him as my own flesh and blood the moment I had seen him. I had felt connected in a way I had never felt before. My heart had recognized his heart.
Concentrating on only weakening him, never dealing a fetal blow my father quickly gained an upper hand, even though his movements weren’t as fluid as they could have been as he, too, struggled against hurting me.
I deflected another attack, feeling the blow all through my tiring body, and gritted my teeth as I searched frantically for a way out of this. I had to give it to Morgan. She was utterly perverse setting father and daughter against each other. But at least she was too busy to enjoy the show. Or not.
As I chanced another glance I noticed Kylian was fighting the hunters now, magnificently naked, while Morgan obviously not exactly on top of her game and wounded was sneaking in from time to time to rip her crow-like claws into Kylian, an evil smile on her face as she watched the people around her killing each other. God, that woman was pure evil.
But apparently she didn’t heal in the blink of an eye or pulled some other weird stunt. The gates weren’t yet open and whatever she might think of the humans, it were their prayers and believes that gave her power – or in this case, not so much anymore. Thank God for small favors. Nevertheless, frustration clawed and bit inside of me. I wanted to finish that woman, to end this suffering she caused. But I knew she really wasn’t the kind of woman who liked to get her hands dirty; always sending someone else. And for now I was busy and to fight a way to stop this fight against my father.
A cut on my arm brought me back to reality. This time my father’s eyes were really out on killing me, but only because I let myself get distracted. And really, what kind of a head case was I that I found solace in his silent reproach at a time like this?
“We need to stop this. If I don’t kill you, they will.” He nodded towards the Hunters around us, his breathing hard from exhaustion.
Damn it. Dancing around with him, circling each other and more focused on not doing any damage was apparently draining even more energy than a real fight would have.
“You’re right.”
My research had told me that it was all about loopholes with the Wild Hunt.
Merde. Damn. Shit. Would it really come to this? I had no choice.
My heart screamed at me, screaming for my mind to find another way than the one I had already chosen.
I moved towards him, knowing that the Lord of the Wild Hunt would defend himself since Morgan had programmed him that way but that the man inside of him that was my father didn’t want him to, making his movements less fluid and swift. The Lord wouldn’t go down without a fight not matter how willing the soul of my father was. In the last moment I stopped and as he lowered his sword preparing an opening for me I turned Cutter on myself. Watching my father’s eyes go wide with shock I impaled myself, my own sword sliding through me.
I gasped at the sharp, burning pain that erupted in my stomach and made my eyes water. Pulling the hard and foreign thing out of me I stumbled backwards and looked down at myself. I had known what I’d been about to do and what would come with it, and yet I wasn’t prepared for the sight of my own blood. Even more absurd was the fact that I didn’t even want to press a hand against the wound, fearing more pain.
A feral growl split the silence inside of me and my heart breaking I glanced around to find Kylian and his ice blue eyes that were clearly saying that he wasn’t happy with me – at all. He didn’t have to worry about the hunters anymore.
My loophole - okay, it was more like a guess - was that the Hunted had to be killed by the Lord to declare the Wild Hunt as accomplished and over for another seven years. But not when the Hunted died of her own hand in their realm. Not out of fear, but as a sacrifice. The Hunt only exists for the Hunted.
Thunder growled and lightning struck, and from far away I heard an old, strange voice accuse, “What have you done, Morgan? Taking Pendragon from me. Have you gone completely mad?”
My eyes flickered around to find a man standing tall in front of the goddess, making her seem tiny. Did she look scared? He continued yelling at her, a weird darkness surrounding him.
Cutter dropped out of my hand as I stumbled and fell onto the ground, looking up into a foggy gray sky.
My father’s face loomed above me, tears in his shocked eyes. “Why?”
“L-let them go.” I croaked and hoped he knew I was talking about the other prisoners.
“I will.”
A furious, squealing scream split the silence inside of me. I frowned. But seconds later my father was shoved away as Kylian appeared. His eyes were frantic, locking on the wound and he paled even more. Pressing his hands on my stomach he growled, “What the fuck, Maiwenn?”
“She did... She did it.” My father explained, and understanding dawned on Kylian’s face. My fierce tiger didn’t like the sound of that at all.
I reached a trembling hand up to touch his jaw. Ben had been right. I missed having that big, sweet memory, but I had others of him…of us, and in that moment I hugged them all to me and the pain went away. We fighting, with fists or just words. His slow and sexy smile, making me all gooey inside. His wicked eyes, my soul could fall into them and I knew he would catch me. We kissing and drowning in each other. We both hadn’t expected that instant attraction when he had been send to help me investigate the shifter murders. But he made me feel…everything. Mad, safe, angry, loved…he just made me feel
.
Another man joined the ones staring at me, his face blurry since it was father away. “You should thank her. The Wild Hunt will be no more.” The old, strange voice. “Pendragon, can you fix her?”
I frowned and ordered my eyes and brain to focus on my father. It wasn’t easy.
He said, “Morgan didn’t only take my soul, my powers belong to me as well, no matter my form. They are weak but I will try my best.” He put his hands on my tummy and closed his eyes. And there I finally realized why he was called Nodons with the bronze hand. His hands began to glow, a warm, golden brown light coming from them and seeping into me. I sighed with the warmth, stretching through my entire body like a warm blanket. Then a whisper on my wet cheek, a caress like a father’s loving hand. From far away I heard my father, “I healed as much as I could, but she’s still bleeding. You have to get her away and out of here as fast as you can.”
The deep voice I loved so much, growled without losing any time by asking unnecessary questions, “How?”
“Through the forest. All who manage to go through it are freed from the Wild Hunt.”
“What’s in there?”
“Monsters and traps. Death.”
The old, strange voice cut in. “They won’t trouble you. The Wild Hunt has fulfilled its purpose.”
“Okay.” Strong arms picked me up. “What about you?” Was he talking about my father? Did he know that the Lord of the Wild Hunt was my father?
The old, strange voice that seemed to float on the wind answered again, “Don’t worry. As soon as you make it through the forest this will cease to exist. So will The Lord and go back where he belongs.”
Blinking my eyes open I saw that Kylian was approaching the prisoner and demanded, “Two of you are police officers. Who?”
Two men stepped forward, without hesitation.
“Good. Gather all the prisoners and keep them together as a group.” I heard the rustle of feet and of chains, falling to the ground. I heard Sophie offering help, calming frightened souls.
Then Kylian’s voice rang out, that damn commanding confidence of his wrapping around every word like a soothing and yet demanding hand. “Now, listen to me very carefully. If you want to get out of here, if you want to survive and see your loved ones again, you listened to these two officers, and otherwise you do what I do. I stop, you stop. I run, you run. Clear?”
A smile tugging at my lips I stared up into his face. So strong and yet tender as he looked down at me. He was still mad at me, I saw it in his eyes, but he said softly, “Stay with me.”
Then the group was off into the woods, on a dead run.
Later I would sometimes wonder whether some of the creatures we saw there were the product of my imaginations and dreams or real. The strange man might have promised that the monsters wouldn’t attack us, but as soon as we got within striking distance living trees and plants tried to eat us. There were giant spiderlike monsters with too many eyes to count and balls of flickering light trying to lead us away from our goal and deeper into the black belly of the woods. But my father had told Kylian to head straight, no turning around, no heading left or right, just straight ahead.
Soon sweat clung to his skin and I wondered how much he could take. How badly had he been hurt in the fight before? I had no idea. Trying to look I moved my head to get a better look. Obviously guessing what I was thinking he replied, “I’m fine. Already healing.” Still, his jaw was clenched and he was breathing hard.
Then I realized that this realm forced out the animal in him and he was sweating from fighting the change.
A growl vibrated through the air, alerting us to another creature. Kylian wanted to put me down in a safe place but the moment he lowered me to the ground I tried to stand on my own feet. He growled at me. I ignored him. My stomach was still burning but the bleeding had stopped and I didn’t fell flat on my face. Good.
The growl increased, multiplying now. More than one creature.
And then they stepped out of the concealing shadows of the lush and savage greenery. A dozen hounds guarding the way to the next realm and bent on getting the prisoners back. Their red and black skin glistened, their breathing fogged in front of them. Cocking their heads they very nearly grinned at us. Dinner is served.
Sophie stood not far away from me, carrying her shoe and my sword. I took Cutter out of her hand, offering her a grateful smile. Nodding we took stand, forming a line with Kylian and the two officers, protecting the other prisoners behind us. A glance at Kylian told me he was wondering whether this whole they-won’t-harm-you was true. Well, only one way to find out.
We stepped forward as one and the hounds stepped back. A sigh of relief escaped me. My legs were trembling, my vision already blurring. I wasn’t up for another fight.
As we continued to advance the hounds backed off and soon revealed a gooey black wall in front of us. A gate to another realm.
“Let’s go home.”
TWENTY
I woke up in bed. In my own bed, in my room. No mud or clammy, cold fog clinging to my skin and clothes. Heaven.
Until the knock on my door interrupted paradise and Ben stepped in. His sandy hair was tousled as if he’d only just now ripped himself out of Pauline’ hands, his smile was easy and happy and a lollipop stuck in a corner of his mouth.
I groaned as he strolled over and motioned for me to pull up my shirt so he could have a look at the healing hole in my stomach. “We really have to stop that.”
“So stop getting hurt.”
“Normally I’m not in need of so much medical attention. This week really is an exception.”
“I know. Now, move that shirt before Kylian comes in and rips my head off.”
I did as he asked.
We all had blacked out again after crossing the gate to the dark realm I had seen the Hunt riding in under moonlight, and then once again when we had finally crossed over into our realm. Collapsing that first time hadn’t been so good for my wound. It had opened up and started bleeding again, so that Kylian had insisted on carrying me through the second gate and cushioning the fall.
He hadn’t let go of me and carried me home.
When Ben was finished inspecting and bandaging me up I tugged my shirt back down, and that’s when Kylian walked in. Perfect timing.
“She’s fine and on the mend.” Ben stared down at me, his voice taking on his doctor-tone, “Bed rest, some of that cool healing ointment of yours and you’ll be okay.”
After a last reassuring smile he slipped away and left me alone with Kylian. God, I really had to break this routine.
Kylian grabbed the chair in front of my desk and slammed it down beside my bed before sitting down, bracing his arms on his knees and leaning even closer to me.
“Talk.”
“About what?”
“You. And the Lord of the Wild Hunt. He was your father.”
Of course he’d notice.
“No, yes… it’s complicated.”
“Tell me.”
I threw up my arms, “I don’t know where to begin. Even I have a hard time believing it all.”
“Just start at the beginning.”
I gazed into his eyes. They were brown mixed with blue, filled with longing and anger. Anger at me for getting hurt. My heart thumped in my chest as I realized, staring into those familiar eyes, that I wanted to tell him everything. Why shouldn’t I? He deserved the truth after saving my ass again and again. And I knew I could trust him with it.
Calmer I took a deep breath and started my tale without stopping, “Once upon a time in another realm the god Nodons looked upon the mortals and sighed, thinking that they were the real blessed ones. They were limited by time, could lose everything from one moment to the next and that made everything so much brighter, sweeter and more real. His sister saw him, sighing and envying mortals and was disgusted by it, so as the goddess of war she challenged him to a bet to prove his theory wrong. Both went to earth, the brother as Arthur Pendragon and his jealous sis
ter as Morgan le Fay. He found joy in that world and a sense of being he had never felt before, and even fell in love. He was happy, but his sister loathed every minute of this mortal being and jealousy of the woman who had captured her brother’s heart ate away at her. And she planned. She had a son, Mordred, who was struggling for every morsel she threw his way, dying for her love, sick though it was. Her madness made him mad in return and both started to want what they couldn’t have. One day Mordred, blinded by jealousy in turn, attacked Arthur, knowing the god was indeed very well a mortal and not just using a shell of one. Arthur’s wife found out she was with child at that time and knew that Morgan would do everything in her power to get or hurt that child and so she fled. Leaving all she ever knew, changing her name, to escape the destructive power of a mad woman. To finally find a home and hope in Paris. But it was a troubled time, empire’s weakening and others strengthening. Huns invading.”
“The first Patroness.”
I nodded before taking another deep breath, somehow most frightened of the next part and his reaction to it. “Yes, until she died giving birth to her daughter. Maiwenn.” My gaze flicked to his and stayed there.
Comprehension dawned. “How old are you?”
I smiled. “Twenty-five.” When his eyes narrowed in confusion, I explained the rest to him. About me and Viviane being reborn again and again to fight for this city that had been our home for so long now.
After I finished my story I looked at him, wondering what he was thinking, what he would say. Whether he would want to back out. That thought hurt but got me quickly making one point very clear to him. “My aunt is a mad goddess that already tried to kill us weeks before the Turn because she’s so impatient to do it. She will come after me again.”
The Hunt is On (The Patroness) Page 20
