Witchbane (Book 5 in The Twilight Court Series)

by Amy Sumida

“My what now?” Killian lifted a dark, auburn brow.

  “Cluster crystals,” I frowned. “Huh, I guess your founders didn't take any with them. Or make any new ones.”

  “Whatchu talkin' 'bout, Twilight?”

  “The Coven has crystal pendants that can link several people together, drawing them into a collective mind-meld where they can speak,” I explained. “They're called cluster crystals. At least, I think that's what they're called,” I narrowed my eyes in thought. “It's been awhile since Aidan let me use his.”

  “Who the hell is Aidan?” Killian snarled. “How many men have you got, Twilight?”

  “Whoa,” I laughed, “dial it down, Dumbledork. Aidan is the Alpha of the Missouri Pack. He's worked with me before. Purely business.”

  “Oh,” Killian huffed. “So the witches and the fairies both use crystals to communicate. Interesting.”

  “Yeah, except we call it scrying,” I nodded. “You can pretty much contact anyone near an enchanted crystal ball, just by calling to them through another ball. It will chime, similar to a telephone, and then you touch the crystal to answer the scry.”

  “Cool,” he nodded.

  “Yeah, I even saw Danu appear in one once.”

  “The Goddess?” Killian sat up. “She showed herself in a crystal ball?”

  “Yeah, but it was a one time deal I think,” I frowned, remembering whom Danu had spoken to. “The Sin-Eater,” I whispered.

  “What now?” Killian narrowed his gaze on me. “Is it just the tequila or are you making less and less sense?”

  “It's the tequila,” I said without explaining.

  “Seriously,” he rolled his eyes. “You're going to say something as cryptic as 'The Sin-Eater' and then not explain it? That's so wrong, Twilight.”

  “I was remembering the guy Danu showed herself to. His name is Zhayu Sin-Eater,” I sighed, “and he's a dragon king.”

  “Another one?” Killian snorted. “Now I know you're messing with me.”

  “There are very few dragons left on the surface of Fairy,” I explained. “But in the oceans, there are two dragon courts. They are full of sea fairies, but ruled by dragons, and every dragon is a king or a queen.”

  “Every one?”

  “Yep, and they're quite a few of them,” I nodded. “I visited the Court of the Nine Sons, one of those underwater dragon courts, right before Uisdean found Dagda's club. In fact, Uisdean was using the sea dragons as a cover for his search. When he found the club, and revealed his true purpose, the dragons were pretty pissed. They chased Uisdean and Rue into HR, but they didn't catch them. Last I heard, they returned to their Court.”

  “But you don't think they'll stay there?” Killian was serious now, all humor vanished from his expression.

  “The sea fey are some of the most vicious fairies I've ever met,” I made a face, “and I've met some real psychos. The dragon kings have a twisted sense of honor, and they kill anyone who fucks with it. Do I think they'll stay in the sea and leave Uisdean to me? No. Hell no. They'll be back.”

  “That rhymed,” Killian said with a straight face.

  “What?” I scowled at him.

  “Do I think they'll stay in the sea, and leave Uisdean to me,” he repeated in a singsong voice. “It rhymed.”

  “You're a child,” I grimaced.

  “Compared to most fairies, yep,” he smiled wide and cocked his head. “But then, so are you, Twilight. Don't you get tired of talking with those old farts?”

  “They can be a bit... medieval in their speech,” I agreed. “But they can also be fascinating.”

  “Ah, but can they do this?” Killian stood and pulled his shirt off. As I gaped at the display of muscled, male flesh, he twitched his pecs, one after the other, so that they danced.

  “Wow,” I said in a deadpan voice, “that's hot. I am so turned on right now.”

  “Is that sarcasm?” Killian chuckled as he slid back into his seat... without putting his shirt back on.

  “So very much of it.”

  “You're welcome to take your shirt off and see if you can do better,” he leered at me.

  “Back off, Blair Witch,” I growled, then smiled at my own quip.

  “Son of a bitch,” Killian growled. “Don't start with the Blair Witch thing. I beg you, Twilight. I had enough of the teasing when the movie first came out.”

  “I'm just shocked at myself for not putting it together sooner,” I chuckled.

  “You can call me Skeletor all you want,” Killian pleaded, “but not the Blair Witch. Please. In fact, I have a whole list of suggestions for you. You could call me sweetheart, darling, hot stuff, lover boy, honey, stud muffin, pookie, sugar lips, or my personal favorite, cuddle Blair.”

  “You are out of control, doll face.”

  “Doll face?” Killian gaped at me. “That was not on the list. And it's a woman's endearment.”

  “Buttercup?” I lifted my eyebrow.

  “You're killing me, Twilight.”

  “Bunny boo boo?”

  “Fine, you can call me the Blair Witch,” he purred, “as long as you scream it... in bed.”

  Cat huffed and I rolled my eyes.

  “Hey, you can't blame a guy for trying,” Killian said to Cat.

  She lifted her head, and looked at him steadily.

  “I guess you can,” Killian amended.

  She dropped her head back down with satisfaction.

  “So you can't speak to the Dragon King,” Killian began again, finally getting us off the topic of his hilarious name. “How about the Twilight King? He still in HR?”

  “No, Keir headed back to Twilight right before we left for Helena,” I frowned.

  “I know you said you forgave him for those letters,” Killian went on mercilessly. “But did you really?”

  “I did,” I pondered it. “But forgiveness doesn't instantly take away the hurt.”

  “If only,” he huffed. “All it does is make you feel like a chump.”

  “Ouch, that was harsh,” I made a face at him. “Bitter much?”

  “Sorry,” Killian looked sheepish. “My mother wants me to make nice with the coven elders and forgive them for their racist attitudes. I think that's bullshit.”

  “So you don't think the Coven will ever welcome the Casters back into the fold?”

  “I don't know,” he shrugged. “Maybe after they see how powerful our children are, they might. But to me, that's too little, too late. And too self-serving.”

  “I hear ya,” I nodded.

  “I just want to make things safe for the casters again,” he sighed. “Then I'm going home and pretending that nothing has changed.”

  “And here I thought you were in this because you vowed to stand by me,” I teased.

  “I told you I have multiple reasons for being here,” he went serious. “Still, you're at the top of the list. I would have mentioned it earlier, but it seems to make you uncomfortable.”

  “You make me uncomfortable,” I admitted.

  “In a good way?”

  “Good for you, bad for me,” I laughed and then decided it would be best to change the subject. “Hey, what happened to your baklava? I haven't seen you wearing it since the day we met.”

  “Are you talking about my balaclava?” he smirked.

  “Yeah, what you said.”

  “I was wearing it because I was in Alaska, in the wilderness, at night.”

  “You were wearing it cause it made you look like a hot Grim Reaper,” I argued.

  “Maybe,” he admitted, then narrowed his gaze. “You think I look hot in it?”

  “Meh.”

  He stood up and started walking to the door.

  “Where are you going?”

  “To get my hot baklava,” he waggled his brows at me.

  “Balaclava,” I corrected.

  “What you said,” he pointed a finger at me, his hand in the shape of a gun. “Don't lock me out, Twilight.”

  Chapter Thirty-Six

 
“Killian!” I kicked the snoring man at the foot of my bed.

  We may have got just a little drunk, and Killian may have passed out on the floor. Thanks to my amazing fairy blood, I felt fine. But it looked like Skeletor would be paying the price.

  “What? What happened?” Killian sat up, his balaclava all askew, and peered through the off-center hole with bloodshot eyes. It was pulling up at the bottom and his auburn hair was poking out. “Oh dear God,” he groaned, stumbled to his feet, then ran for the bathroom, pulling the balaclava off as he went.

  The sound of puking carried out to me.

  I twisted off the top of a bottle of water and added it to the hangover breakfast I'd gathered for him. Water, Tylenol, a grilled cheese sandwich, and french fries. Lots of grease to cut the alcohol, Tylenol to help with the headache, and water to hydrate him. I pulled out the chair as he groaned his way out of the bathroom. He saw the spread and his groan turned into a moan of relief.

  “You are the most wonderful woman in the entire world,” he said as he slid into the seat. “With the exception of my mother,” he added as he bit into the sandwich.

  “I need to show you something,” I spread a map out next to his rapidly disappearing meal.

  “Give me a minute,” he grumbled with a full mouth.

  “We only have five before we need to meet the others downstairs.”

  “Fuck me,” he rolled his eyes. “Go on then.”

  “I was thinking about what you said last night-”

  “About how I learned how to perform oral sex from a lesbian?” Killian cut me off and smirked.

  “No,” I huffed. “You're obviously feeling better.”

  “I have a fast recovery time,” he winked at me, “in all things.”

  “It is way too early for this,” I shook my head. “Will you just look at the damn map?”

  “Fine,” he stuffed ten fries into his mouth at once.

  “Look, here are the spots we've ruled out because of obvious human imitators,” I pointed to a bunch of pink dots. “Now here are the crime scenes with real witch corpses,” I pointed to a bunch of green marks. “Do you see a pattern?”

  He frowned at the paper and then looked up at me with a brilliant smile.

  “They're circling Billings,” Killian declared.

  “And Billings is only ten miles from here.”

  “It's about fucking time!” Killian stood up, downed the rest of his water, and rushed to the door. He stopped in the doorway and turned back to me, “Hurry up, Twilight, we got witch hunters to hunt.”

  “Um, Killian?”

  “What?”

  “You might want to put some pants on,” I looked pointedly at his Star Wars boxer shorts.

  “What?” he smirked. “You don't like Vader? Damn finicky fairy princesses.”

  Killian scooped up his discarded pants and his balaclava. The pants went over his shoulder and the balaclava went over his face. Then he proudly paraded out of my hotel room, clad only in boxer shorts and balaclava, humming the Imperial March.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Within our first five minutes in Billings, Montana, Killian walked into an alley and got nabbed. Four men, burly looking guys who belonged in Alaska, grabbed him. A fifth one shot something into Killian's neck. Through my binoculars, I saw the look of panic on Killian's face as he went down. A guy like that didn't like losing control, even when he expected it.

  “Alright, we're on,” I called excitedly into my communication device. “They're in a dark blue van, Montana plates, 486159 Alpha. Heading west down 4th Avenue.”

  I jumped into the borrowed, black, extinguisher SUV with my group; Conri, Gradh, and Torquil. We pulled out into traffic sedately and followed the van as inconspicuously as possible. After a few minutes, three more SUVs pulled into traffic around the van. The rest of our team. We surrounded the van subtly, so that no matter which way the vehicle headed, we could follow.

  It drove out of Billings entirely. We followed them into a small town called Lockwood. Mainly residential, with a few Mom and Pop businesses. The van headed to a house on the edge of town. That seemed to be a trick Uisdean and Rue had learned well. If you keep to yourself and stay just on the outskirts of a town, people won't even notice you're there.

  I got the address from the mailbox, and called it in to the teams waiting for us in Helena. We couldn't drag everyone around the country with us, and Helena had been the center of our search. So we'd put them up in a Best Western and told them to wait for our call. We had also borrowed my father's private jet to fly us out to Helena, and it was on stand-by to take our teams wherever we needed them. So instead of them driving twenty-two hours to reach us, it would only take them two to fly over.

  But two hours could mean the difference between life and death for Killian.

  “Conri,” I looked back to the bargest. “I need you to put on an invisibility glamour and sneak up to the house. Report to us the moment you see them move Killian anywhere near Dagda's club.”

  “Yes, Princess,” Conri glamoured himself, then the SUV door opened and shut, seemingly all on its own.

  “Everyone pull back and wait for my orders,” I said into the comm piece, and then turned my SUV around and parked it about fifty feet down from the driveway which the van had gone up.

  It had been a long driveway, leading to a high wall of cement blocks and a closed gate, through which a house was just barely visible. It practically screamed “Go away”. Perfect for Uisdean and Rue's nefarious needs. I tapped my foot anxiously on the floor, waiting for some word from Conri. It would probably take him-

  “Princess,” Conri's voice came through my ear piece, startling me.

  “Yes?”

  “I have an eye on the Red Witch,” Conri reported, earning a few snickers from the listening extinguishers. “They've put him in a smaller building behind the main unit. There are other witches already in the building, chained and gagged. Killian is still comatose.”

  “How many other witches do they have?”

  “Six,” Conri said immediately.

  “Good,” I sighed.

  “Why, good?” Torquil asked from the passenger seat.

  “Because if Rue's killing them with the club, she'll need two more before she can start,” Gradh answered for me as she gave Cat a scratch behind one long ear.

  “Exactly,” I agreed. “We don't have to worry about them killing Killian yet.”

  “So I can come back to the vehicle?” Conri asked.

  “No, Sir Conri, I need you to stay at your post,” I insisted. “I'll send Torquil out to relieve you in an hour.”

  “An hour?” Conri whined. “How long is it going to take our backdrop to reach us?”

  “Back-up,” I corrected, “and probably close to three hours. The flight alone will take them two.”

  “Danu's damp pussy!” Conri swore.

  “Conri!” Gradh gasped.

  “Sorry,” he muttered.

  “Please don't repeat that line around Killian,” I sighed.

  “Why, is he really religious?” Conri asked.

  “No, he's really impressionable,” I grimaced. “He'll add it to his repertoire.”

  “If he makes it through this without becoming a zombie,” Torquil muttered. I shot him a nasty look. “Sorry, Your Highness. I forgot about your foster father.”

  “It's okay, Torquil,” I sighed. “Hopefully this will be the day I finally put him to rest.”

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  It took a little over two hours for the cavalry to arrive. Two knuckle-cracking, nail-biting hours in which I demanded updates from the current watcher, every fifteen minutes. Thankfully, there had only been two men on watch, Conri and Torquil. There was nothing for them to report about the prisoners, though there were some nausea-inducing scenes involving my Aunt and Uncle which Conri conveyed to me in detail. I won't wreck your sex life by describing them to you. Let's just say that the couple liked to keep themselves busy with sexual experimentat
ion, when they weren't slaughtering innocent witches or turning people into zombies.

  My whole body relaxed when the herd of SUVs pulled up beside mine. Then I re-tensed as I realized it was finally time for action. I told them to follow me, then sped down the road and straight up the driveway, readying my magic as I went. I was pretty sure of what I'd find waiting for me. Zombies, definitely. Witch prisoners, of course. And my crazy, evil relatives, hopefully not in the middle of coitus. That would just be the cherry on top of my rotting sundae of doom.

  It was actually pretty peaceful as we rolled up on the house. We were the ones making all the noise. It wasn't until we got out of our SUVs and stormed the compound, that we found any form of resistance. From zombies and fairy-struck humans of course. The zombies were tricky to kill, the only thing that seemed to work was beheading them. But getting at their necks was problematic. The zombies were all extinguishers, so they were armed with iron swords and were wearing body armor. They had no fear, no honor, and no problem using their rotting body parts to defend their necks.

  I finally sent all the fairy hunters away to deal with the struck humans, and dispatched the zombies with the help of the extinguishers and witches. The fairies were better equipped to deal with guns, and the rest of us could deal with the iron weapons. We all did our jobs as quickly and mercifully as possible. The hunters tried not to kill the humans, but some deaths were unavoidable. As far as the zombies, we put them all to rest. They were finally, truly dead. Except my father wasn't among them.

  “I knew it couldn't be that easy,” I growled to Cat, and headed into the house. She trailed after me with an uncertain whine.

  There were so many of us, victory seemed assured. Uisdean or Rue couldn't possibly compete with this many witches, extinguishers, and hunters. No way.

  We were wrong.

  All of our theories on why Rue was killing witches while turning everyone else into her own personal zombie toys, were wrong. Close in some respects, I suppose, but wrong. Literally dead wrong. I didn't find that out right away. I had to wander through the house, clearing all of the rooms with the other teams, and then pass through the building, before I was confronted with the truth. The truth that was standing there, waiting in the backyard for me.