When I lift my head, the room around me shivers and whirls so I lay it back down on the bed, cursing a little. I close my eyes, but that makes me feel dizzier, so I open them once again, trying to focus them on something. The doorway is across the room from the bed, leading directly outside. Its opening is so large that it spans almost the entire wall of the room and is flanked on either side by folding doors that can be moved into place to close the room off from the outside world.
I scan the world outside this room and discover a wide, sweeping terrace of stone, crumbling with age. Lush forest with dense trees forms the landscape and the strangest looking stones I’ve ever seen surround the terrace. The stones resemble enormous trees. It’s as if some sort of ash covered the trees at some point thousands of years ago, petrifying them and turning them to stone.
As I move my head on the pillow, I see that this room is very much like the one I shared with Reed. Exposed wood beams arch above my head like the bowed bottom of a ship.
“How is yer ceann?” Brennus asks quietly from somewhere nearby.
As my heartbeat kicks up and the organ in question lodges somewhere in my throat, Brennus whispers something softly to me in Gaelic—something that sounds soothing while the bed moves under his weight. He reaches out and gently strokes my wing that responds to his touch by fluttering lightly.
“Póg mo thóin, Brennus,” I reply stiffly, using the Gaelic Russell taught me to tell him to “kiss my ass.” “I don’t know about my ceann, but my head is aching you evil a-hole. Do you have any idea how much this hurts?” I ask as I hold my head in my hands, feeling it throbbing in pain. Then, I reach back and slap his hand away from my wing as a deep, rumbling laugh issues next to me for my brash response.
“Yer ceann is yer head, mo shíorghrá,” Brennus replies with a grin in his voice. “’Tis sorry I am dat yer head hurts ye. I forget jus how delicate ye are yet. I must’ve made me spell a wee bit too strong—ye have been out for hours—much longer dan I intended.”
“Yeah, well, a little less faerie dust next time, hmm?” I reply with sarcasm, still holding my head. As I try to sit up in the bed, I have to pause because the sheet begins to slip and lets me know that I’m completely naked in the bed. “Brennus! Where are my clothes?” I ask, clutching the sheet to me as I turn to him and glare into his eyes.
“Yer clothes were wet, so I took dem off ye,” Brennus says with a warm smile, leaning his back against the pillows next to me and crossing his arms behind his neck innocently. “Whah’s wrong? I’ve seen ye in da altogether before, remember?”
“I hate waking up naked next to you!” I spit out, glaring at him again.
Brennus’ eyes narrow, “Be careful, Genevieve, as bad as I like ye right now, I need ta remember ’tis worse wi’out ye,” he says in a deadly calm voice.
I sigh in exasperation. “What does that mean?” I ask him, matching his tone and frowning at him.
“It means, I’m bloody angry wi’ ye. I saw da mark on yer chest,” he says accusingly, as he clenches his teeth like a jealous lover, referring to Reed’s wings branded on my heart. “I nearly went mad when I did, too. Finn had ta point out dat ’twas me own fault, na being strong enough ta have kept ye in da first place. I know ’tis me fault. I drove ye back into his arms, did I na?” he asks me rhetorically. “I will na be dat weak again, I promise ye.”
“You being weak had nothing to do with me binding to—”
Brennus cuts me off. “Do na say his name ta me,” he warns me with a growl.
“All right,” I agree, seeing the seething anger in Brennus’ eyes as he sits breathing heavily next to me. “We won’t talk about him. When did you contact Safira?” I ask in a quiet tone, feeling goose bumps rising on my arms and knowing I have to be careful of what I say and do until I find a way out of here. An angry Brennus is very dangerous for me and…painful.
“We were watching da compound. We saw da Undine arrive. I realized dat I knew some of dem, but I didn’t know whah dey were dere for ‘til I spoke to Safira. Ye should’ve told me of da Ifrit. Da aingeals canna protect ye from it like we can,” Brennus replies, gaining control of his anger.
“I don’t want your protection,” I reply, trying to remain calm.
“Arrgh, so now ye will be taking on da Ifrit? He is a persistent wee buggar. I have had ta block his magic no less dan a score of times from reaching ye while ye have been asleep” Brennus informs me.
“You can block the Ifrit’s magic?” I ask him in an urgent tone, looking at him.
“I can,” Brennus responds with a sharp nod.
“How?” I ask, almost afraid to breathe.
“’Tis na difficult,” he replies with a shrug. “I am very powerful.”
I stare at him and I don’t dispute his statement. He is powerful. His men walked into Dominion and then they blew it apart. He found out where I was and just did it again. Although, Safira all but handed me to them when she froze the angels in a block of ice and me behind the wall of it, but still—extremely powerful to have orchestrated all of it.
“How did you know Safira would help you?” I ask.
“I did na know. Need teaches da plan. I needed someone on da inside, so I explored all of me options,” he replies. “Da plan developed when I found dat she needed an ally for whah she wanted and whah she wanted was ye gone, ye see?” he asks, giving me a strategy lesson.
I nod. “Why did you let Russell and me leave the caves in Houghton, if you have this kind of magic?” I ask him suspiciously, not understanding why he couldn’t stop us then.
“’Twas too great a risk, trying someting in dat situation,” he says in a soft tone. “He was willing ta kill ye wi’ dat grenade and I could see he wasna afraid ta die. Den, dere was da fact dat I had jus had a significant amount of yer blood, which is like drinking da sweetest poison,” he says with a rueful shake of his head.
“I taste bad?” I ask, not understanding because he seemed to have a different opinion when he was tasting me.
“No, ye are like tasting heaven. I jus did na like whah it did ta me,” he says with a frown.
“What did it do to you?” I ask with morbid curiosity.
“It muddled me—made me feel happy and…well, drunk,” he says, his green eyes scanning my face like he’s memorizing every detail of it. “I could na even kill da fellas when dey failed at da aingeal hive.”
“You mean when they took a swim in the St. Lawrence without me at the chateau?” I ask, trying hard not to smile, remembering the look on Declan’s face when Reed threw him in the water.
“I do,” he says, watching the corners of my mouth twitch and it’s doing something to the corners of his eyes—they soften like he is amused, too. His coal-black hair is lying elegantly on his brow. Why is it that there’s the look of an angel on this demon, I ask myself, looking away as I feel that darkness within me pull towards him. It’s frightening to find that I still feel an attraction to him, like I felt when I surrendered to him—kissing him before Russell saved me.
I clear my throat and ask with faux casualness, “You can kill Ifrits?” I try to avoid looking at him, running my fingers over the silk sheet. My heartbeat is increasing as I wait for him to answer me.
“I will sort the Ifrit out for ye,” Brennus says like a caress, running his finger lightly up my arm. It feels like he’s running an ice cube over me, but it’s not repulsive, like it used to be. It’s sensual and it’s making me crave something that I have no trouble defining now. “Ye do na need ta fear it,” he says in a sultry voice.
My mind races, I know that he will kill it when it comes for me, but that might be too late to save Russell and Brownie.
“What now?” I ask him abruptly, as I begin to fidget in anxiety. I need to know what he is planning. He promised not to try to change me if I came back to him, but I didn’t come back to him. I made him come and get me.
“Dat depends on ye, mo chroí,” Brennus replies, watching me with hooded eyes.
“It do
es?” I ask, trying to beat down the fear that is rising in me now that the shock of being back in Brennus’ lair has worn off.
“It does. I mean to keep ye dis time, Genevieve,” he says resolutely. “Ye must see dat ye are far safer here wi’ me and da fellas dan wi’ da aingeals. Dey cannot protect ye. Dey had ta call da Undines, one of which wants ye dead,” Brennus says. He looks hostile when he adds, “Ye put yerself in the hands of yer enemies instead of yer family.”
“You want me dead,” I accuse him, afraid that he has a point.
“No, I wanted ye undead—dere’s a difference. Now, I do na know whah I want,” he says in a soft tone.
“What?” I ask in confusion.
“Ye heard me,” he snaps back. “I like ye fine da way ye are now. Whah if I change ye inta one of us and ye…”
My eyes widen in surprise. “What are you afraid will happen if you make me Gancanagh?” I ask, seeing him frown as his finger skims over the contour of my cheek.
“I jus do na want ye ta be different, dat’s all,” he replies.
“I might lose some of that danger that you are all in love with. Is that it?” I ask, seeing that I’m right as he drops his finger from my cheek, staring into my eyes. “Don’t worry,” I whisper, “if you promise to keep your fangs off of me, I promise to become even more dangerous.” I watch his eyes go softer still in the corners. He wants that—he wants to see just how powerful I will become when I evolve to my full potential, I think, seeing him look at me like I’m the ‘in’ toy of the moment.
“We have ta come ta an agreement, mo chroí,” Brennus says with authority. “I know dat ye do na trust me atall. Finn says ye have reason na ta trust me and I know he is right. I should never have tried our methods on ye. I treated ye like a faerie instead of da aingeal dat ye are. ’Tis sorry I am dat I hurt ye like dat. Locking ye away in da cell was da wrong ting ta do ta ye, I admit dat.”
My jaw drops open. This ancient, evil creature that has been taking whatever he wants for as long as he’s been around, which is a significant amount of time, just apologized for hurting me. “Brennus, have you ever apologized for anything in your life?” I ask him in shock.
“I have na. Did I do it rightly?” he asks with a quirk of his eyebrow, looking concerned and sincere.
I nod, too shocked to answer him. This is not what I expected from him at all. I expected to have been bitten the moment it was safe for him to do so and then I expected to writhe in pain until he shared his blood with me, making me his undead slave. I have no strategy for dealing with an apology from him instead of an assault. “What do you want from me, Brennus?” I blurt out, too stunned to be anything but direct.
“Dere are so many tings I want from ye,” he says and his voice is like silk. “But, ta get ta dose tings, we must build some trust between us. I can na trust dat ye willna run off da moment da opportunity of escape presents itself. Dat is why we are still in China. I can na take ye ta me home until I have assurances from ye dat ye will na escape or bring a horde of aingeals down on us ta fetch ye. If I change ye, I will be assured dat ye will stay wi’ me—ye would be bound ta me as yer máistir. But, I do na want ye as me sclábhaí. I want ye ta be me queen. I want ye ta choose me.”
“What does sclábhaí and máistir mean?” I ask with my heartbeat pounding in my chest.
“Slave and master,” Brennus replies.
He doesn’t want me to be his slave. He wants me to be more, I think, feeling weak.
Brennus continues, “Whah I need ta know is whah ye need from me so dat we can make a bargain.”
“I’ve been told that it’s shady to bargain with evil,” I reply in a quiet tone.
Brennus snorts derisively. “I’ve no doubt dat ye have. I also have no doubt dat whoever told ye dat tought ye were evil at one point or de other.” I cannot dispute that. All the angels thought I was evil at one point, except for Buns and Brownie—they never questioned me. Preben’s words come to me then—he had said that the Gancanagh don’t do anything that is not strictly to their advantage.
“You must already know what I want so why don’t you tell me what you have planned, Brennus. I know that you wouldn’t leave anything to chance. You must think you know how to keep me here,” I say, calling him on his strategy.
A deep, rumbling laugh of pure pleasure erupts from Brennus as he looks at me with a sensual darkness in his eyes. “Ye are so clever, mo chroí. I will na be able ta compete wi’ a mind like yers in a few tousand years. I will have ta work hard ta win ye over before long,” he smiles, and I try not to pull away from him as he reaches over and gently toys with a lock of my hair. “I want us ta come ta an agreement. I will save yer aingeals from da Ifrit for ye and in exchange, ye will agree ta live wi’ me,” Brennus says softly.
“We already have a plan in place for that, Brennus,” I say, bluffing, because I have no idea if Reed and Zephyr have worked out a plan to save Russell and Brownie.
“I banjaxed dat plan,” Brennus says casually. “Yer plans involved da Undines. Now dat I’ve turned Safira against da aingeals, da other Undines will na save yer aingeals from the Ifrit. Dey tend ta stick together, ye see? Yer aingeals will now die wi’out our help.”
“I need my clothes, Brennus,” I say quickly, pushing my hand through my hair in agitation.
“Ye do na need yer clothes,” he says as his eyes rove over my body, making me feel like he can see right through the sheet covering me.
“Yes, I do. I need them so that I can get out of this bed and pace. I need to think and I can’t do that sitting here,” I explain in frustration.
“Whah do ye need ta tink about? ’Tis simple. I give ye whah ye want and ye give me whah I want,” he says, smiling.
“Please give me my clothes,” I say again.
Brennus exhales a heavy breath, saying, “Very well.” He flicks his hand and my clothing appears on my lap in a neat, little pile. Surprise registers on my face, making his smile deepen. “I’ll teach ye how ta do dat soon,” Brennus promises.
Shivering at the power he wields so easily, I shrug quickly into my jeans and shirt, feeling relief at having them back. After tying my shoes, I get up off the bed and begin to pace the room, going to the doors that open to a forest outside. I feel like a caged animal with the doors of its pen wide open. I want to run, but I’m afraid of what will happen if I do. Putting my hand on one of the folded doors, I say over my shoulder, “Your plan only saves two of my angels. There is one that will go to any length to get me back.” Reed will not stop until he gets me back.
“He is welcome ta try,” Brennus says with deadly calm, “I am counting on it. I need ta remove him from yer heart and dat can only happen if he is dead.”
In my mind I’m screaming in anguish, but I try to remain outwardly calm, only my hands tremble. “I just thought of another option, Brennus.”
“I see no other option open ta ye. I save yer friends and ye agree ta stay wi’ me as me queen or I bite ye and ye stay wi’ us as me slave while I let yer friends rot,” he says plainly.
“Or, I could show you how much I love my angel. Then, I can leave here and save Brownie and Russell by sorting out the Ifrit myself,” I say, not looking at him, but at the world outside the door. I can sense that there are several Gancanagh hovering around the room just outside of it and many more within the forest of stone surrounding us.
“Dat sounds like an improbable plan, mo chroí,” he says in a calm tone as he gets up from the bed and walks towards me. He comes up close behind me and his sweet scent floats to me, no longer unpleasant to detect. I feel the cold radiating off of his body, but it feels like it’s pulling me towards him now. “How do ye plan ta do all of dat –particularly the part where ye show me how much ye love yer aingeal?” he asks, while my body betrays me as it responds to his nearness.
“That is the easiest part of my plan, mo sclábhaí,” I whisper to him, calling him my slave, while turning to face him. He is so close, just a whisper away from me, as I channel
the love that I feel for Reed into one perfect word. The room begins to spin as my clone juts out of me. Brennus takes a step back from me in surprise. He doesn’t have time to evade my clone that runs into him, delivering my emotion with it. A look of bliss crosses his face for a brief moment, before he hears the message that accompanied it: Reed.
A jealous look of black rage transforms Brennus’ face just as I bolt out of the archway of the pagoda and down the crumbling stone steps outside. Feeling the fellas converging in on me to halt my escape, I pause for only a moment and bend down on one knee. Several of my clones explode out of me, fifteen or more, going in every direction. Shooting back up, I continue to run forward, escaping into the woods along with all of the echoing images of me.
Confusion reigns around me as the fellas split up trying to follow several of the clones that they believe to be the real me. I don’t have time to celebrate that victory because several of the Gancanagh fail to be thrown off their pursuit of me. Declan and Goban emerge off to my left side, so I veer sharply to avoid them. Declan chases me and he is faster than I expect. Hearing him growl behind me, he calls, “Genevieve, ye are still a bleedin’ hallion!” Something whistles by my head, striking the tree in front of me and exploding in a shower of fire, igniting the ground around me. Declan is using his magic to pitch flaming death at me. Freaking faeries, I think, dodging more sparks.
As fire ricochets off the rocks around me, I speed up the path ahead while it narrows and twists upward towards some kind of summit. There is a wall of rock on either side of me, so I can’t deviate from the direction that I’m headed. I’m pulling away from Declan, but I still hear him trash talking me, “Tick, tick, tick…BOOM!” he exclaims as a loud blast falls behind me, rocking the ground I have just vacated and leaving the bitter taste of fear in my mouth. He is not playing with me. He is probably still a little salty about getting tossed off the balcony at the chateau the last time we met.
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