by Talia Vance
Joe was right, now is a really bad time for my powers to be on the fritz.
I scan the shelves, pulling down an eighteenth century physics book. I thumb through the parchment paper, simultaneously amazed at how much science was already known and how much was yet to be discovered. It’s a wonder that so much information survived for so long, passed down and built upon by one generation after another.
The Sons have been building on their knowledge too. Using the giolla to keep their history and their genetic research to improve their numbers and strength.
The Seventh Daughters weren’t so organized. Why not? Why didn’t any giolla align with us? Why didn’t the bandia keep a written history?
The only piece of history I’d been given was my bracelet. A legacy. Three charms. One of the charms, a wolfsbane blossom, had been a talisman that shielded me from the Sons, by making me almost invisible, so people looked right past me, until my powers were under control.
I twirl the bracelet around my wrist. The flower doesn’t shield me anymore, but I can’t deny that it did its job well. And the horse. What had the horse done out at that little wall? It showed me Austin a thousand years ago. Not just Austin, Danu’s daughter. Before Austin was banished. Before Danu was killed.
It had to mean something. And I had to find out what. But first I need to find Sherri Milliken. My sister.
“Breakfast?” Mick comes into the room, pushing a plate of scones at me.
“I’m going out. Want to come?”
He blinks.
“Come on,” I say. “I’m taking the Porsche and I’ll never figure out how to drive a stick left handed.”
I see the moment he gives in. His lip curves just slightly, as he steps away from the scones. “I’ll bring the car around.”
I wait out front for Mick to pull up in the black sports car. He gets out and holds open the front passenger seat door for me. He shuts the door and settles back into the driver’s seat.
“How long have you known Austin?” I ask, as we drive through the gates.
“A long time.”
“Did you know him when he was Aaron?”
“He’s had many names.”
“But Aaron was the last one, right? Before he came back.”
Mick’s check twitches. “Aye.” He concentrates on the road. “Are you planning to tell me the real reason we’re going into town.”
“We’re going on a witch hunt.” If Sherri is in town, I want to find her before Liam or the Sons do. I want to try to convince her to fight with us.
We start at the Cath Pub. Sherri is a strong proponent of keeping your enemies close, so it’s a good place to start. We find a table in the back where I’m less likely to be noticed by other patrons. I avoid the eggs and just order some coffee from the same girl who helped me find Blake’s room. Mick orders something that I think is made from pig intestines.
Rhiannon comes out with Mick’s food, but without my coffee. She glares at Mick before turning on me. “I told you, you’re not welcome here.”
I smile in response to her hostility. “There are rumors of another witch in town.”
Rhiannon blanches. “We know what you are.” She believes in the Seventh Daughters and the destruction that follows in our wake. I’ll never convince her that I’m on her side.
I try again anyway. “I’m here to stop her. The Sons will be here too.” When she looks at me blankly, I add, “the Milesians? I want to help them.”
Rhiannon’s grin is smug. “The Milesians will be looking for you then. They will drive you from here. If they let you live.”
“Or the Milesians will finally lose.”
“They won’t.”
“Even if the fuath join the fight?”
Rhiannon backs up a step. “You’re lying. The Milesians drove the fuath underground centuries ago.”
“Which is why the fuath might have an interest in the Milesians’ defeat.”
“Get out.”
“I’m here to help.”
“Now.”
I stand up to face her. “How did you know? About me?”
She glances at the empty spot below the hollow of my throat. I instinctively reach for the pendant, but it’s not there. Her eyes slide to the charm bracelet around my wrist, and she backs up another step and crosses herself.
Mick stands up beside me. “What’s this about fuath?”
“It’s nothing concrete.”
Portia comes out of the narrow hallway from the stairs. She sees me and stops.
Rhiannon turns to look. She spots the pendant around Portia’s neck the same time I do. I don’t know who recoils faster.
My necklace. Blake gave her my necklace?
I reach for my own bare neck without thinking. None of this makes any sense. Not Blake and Portia, not Blake and me. Yesterday, he had wanted me, I know it.
“Are you stalking us?” Portia raises her voice, so it carries across the room, even though she’s only a few feet away.
I catch a peek of Blake’s blonde hair in the stairway behind her.
“It’s a small town,” I say, bracing myself for Blake’s entrance.
Blake steps up behind her, placing a hand on Portia’s shoulder. He doesn’t look at me. “We should sit.”
I straighten my spine, reaching for Mick’s coat. “We should go.” It’s one thing to know that Blake is with Portia in concept. It’s something entirely different to see them standing here together, looking so pretty it’s like they’re not even real.
Blake glances at me. A hint of fear crosses his face before he can remember to paste on a charming smile. I suppose having your girlfriend and your ex-girlfriend in the same room would strike fear into even the most heartless guy.
Portia leans into him, pouting. “I’ve lost my appetite.”
I don’t know what I expected to feel at seeing Blake and Portia together, but it’s not this hollow emptiness. My eyes keep gravitating toward the chain around Portia’s neck. Blake may never have been mine. Not really. But he gave me that necklace.
And I gave it back.
He can do whatever he wants with it now.
“I was just leaving.” I push past them. My shoulder brushes Blake’s arm in the small space, but there is no heat where our skin connects. My eyes fly to Blake’s. This isn’t right.
There’s a flash of blinding silver light.
The room goes dark, pitch black and silent. I can no longer hear the sounds of the pub or see anything but an endless empty void. Gradually, the pub comes back into focus, brighter than it was before.
Everyone is frozen, completely still. I’ve been here before. In this frozen moment of time, where Blake once claimed the right to kill me. Is he going to do it again? I look at Portia first. She watches Blake with a scowl on her face, her mouth open to say words that never come.
Rhiannon stands back against the wall, her dark eyes narrowed on the necklace Portia wears. Her fingers pinch a ribbon of sea grass I hadn’t noticed before, a ward to keep away evil spirits.
Blake is frozen next to me, his eyes trapped in a look I can’t decipher. His hand is halfway to my arm, as if he wants to stop me from walking away.
I’m trapped here too. My shoulder barely an inch from Blake.
Is Blake going to claim the right to kill me again? Why now? The bond has been broken for months, and while it’s clear that we are more than capable of bonding again, the claiming thing has not happened. I wait for Blake to move.
He doesn’t.
Portia does.
In the stillness, the slight lift of her chin looks more pronounced. She turns her head away from Blake to look right at me, then her lips curve into a closed mouth smile. “Witch,” she says. The word echoes in the silence.
In a burst of silver light, the room comes back to life. Blake drops his hand and backs into Portia. She stares at me, her eyes huge.
I take a tentative step forward. Blake told me that he had been aware of that frozen moment when he claimed me.
Only he swore I was the one who moved and talkedthat I had claimed him.
Did Portia see something too?
I shake it off.
Rhiannon steps back to let me pass. She laughs again, and I stop.
“What’s so funny?”
Rhiannon purses her lips and worries the sea grass in her hand.
“Tell me.”
She spins around and nearly runs into the kitchen, clearly spooked.
Portia clutches Blake’s arm, but her lip trembles. She looks terrified.
I grab Mick’s hand and drag him out of the pub.
Portia saw me in the stillness. I know it.
And if Blake’s story is to be believed, I spoke to Portia. I called her a witch.
Portia has every reason to be scared. Whether the frozen moment in time was new to her or not, her cover’s been blown.
Portia is a bandia.
TWENTY-THREE
Impossible. Portia is Rush’s daughter, and Rush is a Seventh Son of Killian. Portia is just a breeder, a first generation carrier of the Killian gene. Only the seventh generation males manifest the Sons’ power. Her descendants won’t manifest power for another six generations. She’s the weakest among the Sons’ hierarchy.
It’s not possible for Portia to be a Seventh Daughter. Unless.
The Sons tested me for the Killian gene last spring.
I was labeled a first generation breeder too, before they knew what I really was, because they never accounted for the fact that my genetic link to Killian came through his son, Brom. Although I was eight generations removed from Killian, and thus of little use as a breeder of Sons with powers that only manifest every seven, I was seven generations removed from Danu, a Seventh Daughter in my own right. It’s possible that I am not the only descendant of Brom and Danu who’s been misclassified as a carrier of only the Killian gene. If Dr. McKay is only testing for one gene, he wouldn’t know to look to see if there were also markers for Danu. He probably hasn’t ever isolated the genetic link to Danu.
Holy crap. Portia is a Seventh Daughter.
Who else knows? Does Blake?
I’m shaking when I climb into Mick’s car. I text Blake
a message before Mick ever starts the engine. “We need to talk. Now.”
He responds a few minutes later. “Not a good idea.”
“It’s about Portia.”
“Do we have to do this?”
“Yes. Meet me at Lorcan Hall in an hour.”
“Make it two.”
“Done.”
It occurs to me that telling Blake where I’m staying may not be the best plan I’ve had, but it’s not like it’s a secret among the townspeople. Besides, I’m done running. Look where it got me- right smack in the eye of a hurricane. So I can’t run from my fate.
I ask Mick to show Blake to a rarely used living room off the main hall, where we’ll hopefully have some privacy. An hour and a half later, Mick raps lightly on the door. He raises his eyebrows as he announces Blake, a question in his eyes.
I ignore it. “Thanks Mick.”
“Mikel,” he corrects. He hesitates in the doorway, looking unsure of whether he should leave me.
“It’s fine.”
Blake crosses the room and sits in an overstuffed chair in the far corner. It’s the furthest seat from where I sit on the couch. He waits until Mick closes the door before he says anything. “Portia doesn’t know I’m here, so we have to make this quick.”
“You two seem close.”
Blake stands. “I’m not going to have this conversation with you.”
“Why not? We’re not together. You can see who you want.”
His eyes get hard. “Is it that easy?”
“You don’t get to care how I feel, Blake. Anyway, I have bigger problems than who you’re hooking up with at the moment.” My chest flutters with panic. If Portia is a Seventh Daughter and Blake is sleeping with her, have they bonded? The jealousy I thought I’d set aside is there at once, a parasite sucking my life’s blood. But no, we almost bonded yesterday. I’m sure of it. He couldn’t bond with both of us. I take a breath.
“The Sons landed in Dublin this morning,” Blake says. “You have to leave.”
“I’m aligned with the Sons.”
“Not anymore.”
“Now more than ever. It’s Portia I’m not so sure about.”
Blake’s dimpled smile is there in an instant. It’s mean to distract me. To mask the lie that follows. “Why? She’s the daughter of our leader.”
“She burnt down your house.” I enjoy saying this way more than I should. It wasn’t me.
His smile falters. I stare at him, daring him to deny it. He looks at the ground, running a hand through his hair. “What?”
“Portia is a bandia.”
When Blake looks up at me, his poker face is back in place. “How did you figure it out?”
He already knows about Portia? He knows it wasn’t me. He knows I didn’t start the fire at Mallory’s party. He knows and he wasn’t planning on telling me.
I’m totally lost now. “You knew? You knew it was Portia who burned down your house?”
“Not until last week. After you left, I couldn’t stop thinking about what you said. You were so adamant that it wasn’t you. Then I remembered what you told the Sons during your induction, that you were a carrier of the Killian gene through Brom. And they never figured it out on their own. There could be others, right?”
It was exactly what I thought when I realized what Portia was. Blake is one step ahead of me. But it doesn’t excuse the fact that Blake has known that it wasn’t me who started that fire for over a week. Was he just going to keep letting me think that he still thought it was me? Or did he even care how I felt? Was he going to tell the Sons? Were they still hunting me?
Blake keeps talking. “Everyone at Mal’s party was a breeder, and it made sense to start with the people who were there when the fire broke out. I got Dr. McKay to show me the tests for each of the breeders. There are only a few first generations, and of those, Portia is the only girl.”
“So Portia was the only possible Seventh Daughter among the breeders.”
“Right. Plus both her parents were seventh generation under Killian, which meant that she could’ve received the Killian gene from her mother’s side too.”
“And if Portia’s mother got her Killian gene through Brom, as opposed to one of Killian’s other children, then she was a sixth generation daughter of Danu.”
Mystery solved. Portia started the fire. Why didn’t he tell me?
“Exactly. But it wasn’t enough. I had to get closer.”
My mouth is dry. Is he trying to tell me that he is only dating Portia to find out the truth? “You’ve been spying on her?”
He looks at the floor. “I’m trying to help you. I still need proof.”
“So you were just going to hook up with Portia until when? You got proof?” I feel sick. “And you weren’t planning on telling me?”
“Because I knew you would freak out like this. And the less people who know the better. I need for Portia to trust me. If she knew I was here talking to you—”
I stand to face him. “So you’re worried about her feelings? You let me think I burned down your house. You let me think you didn’t trust me.” I wish I had my powers right now. I’ve never wanted to strike him down more than I do right now.
Blake’s eyes are dark. “I didn’t.”
Wow. It’s nothing more than what I already knew. Still, it’s like being hit with a flaming arrow straight through the heart and then having Blake rip it back out while I lay bleeding out in front of him.
The door opens with a bang. Austin stands in the doorway, his chest rising and falling with quick breaths. Two deep lines form at the bridge of his nose before he can mask it with a practiced look of haughty indifference. He turns to me. “Are you okay?”
Blake looks from Austin to me and back again. “What’s he doing here?”
“
He lives here.”
The vein on Blake’s neck throbs so hard it looks like it’s about to burst. “You brought him back? I leave you alone for two fucking weeks and you brought this bastard back from the underworld so you could move in with him?”
“I didn’t bring him back.” The only person I brought back was you. And look how well that’s turned out.
“Then how is he here?”
Austin raises an eyebrow at Blake. “Magic.”
“Spare me.” Blake’s lip curls into a sneer when he turns toward me. “Looks like your hero is here to whisk you away. Or make sure you kill me. I can’t be sure which.”
“Stop it. Austin is helping me. You weren’t here to do it. You’re the one who sent me away.”
“So I could find the other bandia,” Blake growls. “So you could sleep with her.”
Austin leans back against the wall, a smile playing on the corner of his lips.
Blake collapses on the couch. “You have no idea what you’re even talking about. You don’t know Portia. She doesn’t trust anyone. It’s no wonder, given the secret she’s been carrying. I had to get close to her in a hurry, okay?”
I can’t believe he’s trying to justify this. “I know exactly what you’re doing. It’s the same thing you did to me.”
Blake’s face goes white. “It’s not.”
I actually feel sorry for Portia. Blake is using her in the same way he used me, to gain information for the Sons. Maybe without the artificial closeness of the bond, Portia will see through him. I hope for her sake, she does.
Austin steps toward Blake. “What secret is Portia carrying?”
Blake looks at me, fear in his eyes. “You can’t tell him.”
“I trust Austin.” I realize it’s true. I don’t know how it happened, but I trust him with this. Austin is on my side.
“Him?” Blake’s green eyes flash with silver. “Have you lost your mind? You know what he’s capable of. What he’s done.”
“I do.” I also know that Austin would never deliberately hurt me. Not now.
“I knew it.” Blake punches a pillow. “You always wanted him. I could feel it when we were bonded.”
