Sword Song: The Isle of Destiny Series

by Tricia O'Malley

  In a matter of moments, Sasha was fully armed. She had knives slipped into both boots, a sword at her waist, her dagger in her pocket, knives tucked in various coat pockets, and even a small razor blade hidden away in the tie of her braid.

  Though the woman’s voice hadn’t triggered any warnings in her head, Sasha was quite certain that she was about to walk into a trap. With that in mind, she eased herself from the building and locked up behind her. There was no way she’d allow a threat into a gallery housing hundreds of weapons that could be used against her.

  Sasha was distrustful of everyone, but she wasn’t stupid.

  Leaning against the door and crossing her arms against her chest, she settled in to wait.

  Chapter Five

  It wasn’t long before a bouncy blonde wearing a bright red coat and a blue knit cap rounded the corner. Sasha immediately dismissed her as a potential threat, but found herself straightening and sliding the dagger into her hand as her eyes landed on the man who followed a step behind the blonde.

  Tall and gangly, with a shock of red hair and a cool street style, he seemed like a fairly cheerful Irish bloke.

  Aside from the fact that he was giving off a faint purple glow, that is.

  Sasha narrowed her eyes, and found that the hue intensified when she did so.

  “Sasha?” the blonde asked, stopping a few feet from her and eyeing the dagger cautiously.

  “Bianca. And I’m assuming this one is the Seamus I heard about,” Sasha murmured, her eyes tracking between the two. She wondered just what their game was.

  Silver fae were one thing, but people glowing purple? Either the world had gone crazy, or Sasha was finally tipping over the precipice and skidding down the long steep slope into madness.

  “At your service,” Seamus agreed, rocking back on his heels and beaming at Sasha. It was enough to make Sasha tighten her grip on her blade and tip lightly back and forth on her feet, distributing her weight evenly so she could move quickly should she need to.

  “I can’t be saying I’ll be needing any servicing,” Sasha bit out, and Bianca let out a peal of laughter.

  “I’m the only one Seamus is servicing these days, isn’t that right, sweets?” Bianca said, sending a flirtatious smile over her shoulder to Seamus. Though his cheeks reddened slightly, he sent her a glowing smile before turning back to Sasha.

  “My beauty is correct. That wasn’t the type of service I was implying. Though I’m sure you’d have no trouble in that department should you ever need to find someone to... assist,” Seamus said easily.

  Bianca nodded enthusiastically. “You’re right stunning, you are. I’m quite sure you have men lining up to be with you.” Bianca studied the dagger in Sasha’s hand and added, “Though I suggest losing the dagger. It might seem a little off-putting to some.”

  Sasha sighed. She’d have buried her face in her hands if she weren’t currently holding a weapon.

  “You wanted to see me?” Sasha said, skipping over whatever the hell they were talking about to get to the point.

  “Right, we did. Though maybe we should talk inside?” Bianca suggested, shooting a glance down the alley. Though it was empty, Sasha knew that many people cut through this alley to skip the busy sidewalks of the main street.

  “And let you into a shop full of weapons that could be used on me? Especially with this one?” Sasha asked, gesturing to Seamus, still glowing a light violet hue.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Bianca narrowed her eyes.

  Sasha narrowed her eyes right back. Glancing left and right, she lowered her voice. “He’s purple,” she hissed, feeling a tinge of embarrassment trickle through her at the words.

  “Duh, he’s Danula.” Bianca said, chuckling as though the entire world was in on some secret that Sasha had never heard of. Sasha only knew that it irritated her to feel like she was being left out of a joke – or something much larger.

  Credit Aaron for that extra annoyance, Sasha thought. There was nothing she hated more, these days, than feeling like she didn’t know what was going on, or that she was being played for a fool.

  “And you’re expecting me to be knowing what that means then?” Sasha hissed.

  Bianca glanced at Seamus again. “I can’t see it,” Bianca mused. “But I’m not Na Sirtheior. Which is probably a good thing. I’m not sure if I want to see my man glowing purple, know what I’m saying?”

  Sasha’s hand clenched around the dagger again. She briefly thought about poking the blonde with the tip of the knife. Just enough to make her squeal, no real bodily harm, but if they didn’t explain themselves shortly, Sasha was about to lose her patience.

  “No, I really don’t know what you’re saying. At all,” Sasha bit out.

  Bianca sighed, rolling her eyes at Seamus. “It looks like we’ve got a cranky one on our hands. Have you not had coffee yet today?”

  Sasha pressed her lips together and counted to ten, raising her eyes to the sky as she inhaled deeply through her nose.

  “Sweets, I think she’s not interested in small talk. Listen, my name’s Seamus. I’m a Danula, which in other words pretty much means ‘good fae.’ The bad fae – those silver guys that keep trying to murder you? Yeah, we’re trying to stop them from finding the four treasures before the year is over. And you’re next up, sister, so you can wipe that look of disbelief off your face and get focused real quick.”

  “See? You see why I like this man? He’s just so... take-charge. Bad ass. You wouldn’t expect it from looking at him, but he really is. I’ve seen him mow down a field of Domnua – that’s the silver fae to you – and I’d be lying if I said my heart didn’t go pitter-pat.” Bianca beamed at Sasha.

  “How can I possibly know what you’re saying is the truth?” Sasha sputtered. She felt like a cat backed into a corner, her hackles raised.

  “I told you she wasn’t going to believe us,” Bianca said, reaching down for her purse. She paused when Sasha lifted her hand holding the dagger. “Calm down, killer. I’m just going to give you some information and our contact info. We’re staying at a swank hotel right by here. It’s like I’m on vacation in my own town! I might even get a massage!” Bianca said, holding out a small envelope.

  Sasha snatched it from her hand and then motioned with the dagger. “Please leave. I’ll contact you if this checks out.”

  “Fine by me. More time for breakfast,” Bianca said cheerfully, winding her arm through Seamus’s. They both turned and walked down the alley with seemingly not a care in the world. Aside from the faint tinge of purple around Seamus, they could be any random couple on a leisurely morning stroll.

  Sasha’s fingers dug into the envelope. Looking around quickly, she unlocked the door and slipped back into the gallery, her heart pounding in her chest.

  She didn’t know who – or what – she could trust.

  Chapter Six

  Smart woman, Declan thought as he watched Sasha slip back inside her gallery. He was on the roof of the building across the alleyway. He’d staked out the spot years ago with a quick scale up the fire escape. It was the tallest building on the block and an ideal lookout.

  Being Na Cosantoir afforded him a superhuman speed, and should a Domnua sneak up on Sasha he’d be able to drop to the ground and handle the situation very quickly.

  The man with the cute blonde was the first Danula Declan had seen in ages. He had immediately been filled with a sense of brotherhood, as always happened when he was near his kin. Fae were tricky like that – both fierce and spirited, while also deeply emotional beings. Declan was still confused as to how the Domnua could be such murderous creatures. But he figured a couple thousand years in the underworld would probably make even the nicest of blokes a bit snarly.

  Bianca and Seamus, he mused, pulling out his phone and shooting off a text. It was in code, naturally, as the fae loved electronics and could easily hack into even the highest levels of security. The code he used was known only to the protectors.

  His true
brothers.

  The ones who were with him on this journey, those before, and those now – tasked with protecting the Seekers. It was one of the highest honors that could be bestowed upon a Danula, and one that Declan didn’t take lightly.

  Declan shifted, his tall body rippling with lean muscles, like a cat stretching before it pounced. He wore his brown hair pulled back in a small nub at the base of his neck – perhaps it was vanity that caused him to leave it longer, but more often than not it was because he didn’t make time for things like going to the barber. If anything, he’d hack at it with a dagger occasionally. Hazel eyes, tending mainly toward green, dominated a craggy and interesting face, and he’d been told on more than one occasion that he was hot.

  Declan shook his head at the thought.

  Who had time for “hot”? He was trying to keep Sasha alive and honor the Goddess Danu by finding the Sword of Light – the next treasure on their quest.

  It was finally his turn – their turn – and he would let nothing stop him from protecting Sasha on her journey.

  He could only hope to protect his heart along the way, too.

  Chapter Seven

  Sasha tugged the razor blade from the hair tie in her braid, knowing that if she didn’t pull it out now she’d likely forget it and slice herself later when she was pulling her braid out. Dropping the blade on the desk near the envelope, she moved to a long sideboard in her office. She slipped a key from her pocket, then unlocked a door and pulled out a slim flashlight. Switching it on, she shone the black light over the envelope, examining it for any traces of powder or tampering.

  Satisfied, Sasha sat down and picked up the razor blade, neatly slicing the envelope and drawing the folded pages out. In moments, she was absorbed.

  “The Seekers,” Sasha muttered, leaning back and staring at a moody seascape she’d hung over her desk. It had been one of her first purchases for the gallery that wasn’t a piece of weaponry, and it had pleased her to no end that she could afford it. It was painted by a brilliant artist named Aislinn, who lived on the west coast of Ireland, and there was something about the juxtaposition of the cliffs against stormy skies and raging water that spoke to her.

  No peaceful sunsets for Sasha. There was always a storm raging within.

  If what Bianca had written on these pages was the truth, then Sasha was about to have a storm both within and without. According to Bianca, it was their belief that Sasha was part of some mythological faction of Seekers who were tasked with finding the four treasures before the year was over.

  If they failed, the Domnua – the bad fae of the underworld – would rise up and rule Ireland once again.

  No big deal or anything.

  Sasha leaned back and pulled her braid off her shoulder, unconsciously running her hands over each dip and curve of hair, something she always did when deep in thought.

  For all that Aaron had tricked her and lied to her, Sasha believed she had a fairly good bullshit meter. Or at least she’d once had – perhaps she could no longer trust her instincts. After all, she’d lived with and loved someone who had lied to her for years. Perhaps her instincts were crap.

  However, the information contained here didn’t read false to Sasha. Which, for some reason, made her very, very angry. Slamming her hand on the desk, she got up to pace the gallery.

  Was this another situation in her life that she was a pawn in? Something she was involved in and didn’t know the rules? Didn’t know what game was being played? Whom could she trust – and how could she trust anyone, then? It infuriated her to know that there was a possibility she’d been a part of something much bigger and had never once been told about it.

  “I mean... who does that? I’m supposed to freaking find the Sword of Light and, you know, kill off a bunch of murdering fae, but you know, we’ll wait until the last moment to tell you about it?” Sasha swore, long and loud, as her fury bounced off the walls of her gallery.

  “I mean, that’s quite possibly the shittiest way of going about recovering a treasure. There need to be plans. And discussions. And plans,” Sasha fumed, tugging her braid as she paced.

  But what if this was all a joke? Maybe some elaborate thing Aaron had concocted to mess with her...

  Shaking her head, Sasha resumed pacing, tucking thoughts of Aaron away as she ran through the information she’d just read. According to Bianca, Sasha was one of the Seekers, there was some sort of protector who would join her on her quest, and Bianca and Seamus would apparently tag along for the ride as well.

  “You know, a squad and all.” Sasha threw up her hands and went back to the desk to look at the pages. Spying a dash of red ink that formed an arrow, she flipped the last page over.

  “Check under your hair. You’ll be marked. It looks like this,” Bianca had scrawled, and drawn a design of a Celtic quaternary knot.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Sasha swore again. Then, helpless not to, she ran her fingers into her black hair, trailing them along her scalp until they slid over a miniscule raised bump at the nape of her neck. “What the...”

  Sasha pulled a small mirror from her purse and moved to the bathroom tucked into the corner of the gallery. Flipping the light on, she turned and held the mirror up so she could examine the bump on her neck.

  Sasha swore and leaned closer. “Sure and the saints must be deceiving me.”

  Sure enough, a small raised knot was etched into her scalp – almost reminiscent of a small tattoo.

  A bolt of fear, mixed with anger, shot through her.

  This was not how her life was supposed to go. She was supposed to continue to build her gallery and shop until it was one of the most elite in the world. Then she’d find some handsome man who worshiped her, and their pictures would be splashed across all the society pages so Aaron could see just what he’d lost.

  The last thing her dream involved was to be pulled into some mad quest for treasure and saving Ireland from dark fae.

  “Feck, feck, feck,” Sasha swore, resuming her pacing of the gallery. She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t intrigued. It was the Sword of Light, after all. That was right up her alley.

  So many myths and legends wound their way around the Sword of Light, but the story that had always resonated with her was that it was the sword of truth – of justice. All other things aside, Sasha could get behind a quest for something like that.

  Glancing back at the papers, a thought occurred to her.

  She strode to the back door and whipped it open.

  “Protector!” Sasha shouted at the top of her lungs, her voice echoing in the alleyway. When there was no response, she shouted again.

  “Protector!”

  “Are you out of your damn mind?”

  Sasha froze. An instant before, there had been no one standing in front of her. Now her eyes trailed up denim-clad legs to broad shoulders covered in worn leather that fit like a second skin. Up, up, and further up until she found a scowling face with moody green eyes staring down at her.

  Sasha paused as heat laced her belly, and her thoughts skewed immediately to anything but decent, anything but survival – which was what she should have been thinking after a strange man showed up in front of her at preternatural speed.

  “Ah, so you’re my protector. Nice to meet you,” Sasha said, stepping back and firmly closing the door in his face.

  Leaning back against it, she covered her face with her hands while her heart pounded in her chest, reminding her that she was still alive, that everything that was happening was very much real – and that apparently she still could have lustful thoughts, on occasion.

  “This is about to get real interesting,” Sasha muttered and went to find Bianca’s contact info.

  Chapter Eight

  “I brought you a scone. A skinny bitch like you needs to eat more.”

  Sasha jumped at the intrusion, her knee hitting the underside of the desk. She rubbed it furiously as she glared back at her assistant, Maddox.

  “Give a girl
warning, would you?”

  Placing his hands on his hips, Maddox tilted his head and raised an eyebrow at Sasha, the picture of an annoyed diva.

  “And what makes you think I didn’t? Do I do anything quietly? Shoot, I was all but singing my way into the building, because you know I had just the best time with a delightfully delicious new specimen last night,” Maddox sang, dropping the bag of food on her desk and twirling around the room, his flowy white shirt swirling around him and bracelets tinkling at his wrists.

  Maddox had come to Sasha’s store two years ago and insisted on working for her. Though she hadn’t needed an assistant at the time, he’d quickly won her over with his off-beat charm, no-nonsense attitude, and eye for expensive things. It didn’t hurt, either, that he was a natural salesman, quickly moving people past their initial surprise at his sparkly nail polish and scads of jewelry to finding themselves purchasing something they hadn’t even known they’d wanted.

  Sasha narrowed her eyes at Maddox as he buzzed around the room, giving her the details on his latest crush. Were her eyes playing tricks on her?

  “Maddox,” Sasha said, her voice sharp enough to cut through his winding story. Sure enough, there was the faintest hint of purple hovering around him.

  “Yes?” Maddox asked, annoyance crossing his face briefly at being interrupted.

  “You’re Danula,” Sasha said, her eyes trained on his. She caught it, the faint flicker in his eyes, and rose from her seat with a dagger in her hand.

  “Put that knife down this instant, honey. I’m here to protect you and nothing more.”

  “You lied to me,” Sasha seethed, stepping closer, betrayal working its way through her stomach like a burning snake.

  “I had no choice,” Maddox said, his hands up in front of him, his brown eyes wreathed in concern.

  “Tell me how you had no choice. Explain, immediately,” Sasha said, the words hissing out as the anger began to bloom within.

  “It’s a centuries-old curse. There are certain rules that can’t be broken. One of them is that the Danula can’t speak of your role until your time comes.”