Children of the Veil (Aisling Chronicles)

by Colleen Halverson

  Hands clenched my wrists and pulled me to standing.

  “You lying bitch!” Thornton cried. “What have you done?”

  He whirled toward the Adepts holding Máirtín, Regina, and Seamus.

  “Wait!” I screamed, clutching at Thornton’s robes, stopping him from giving him the signal.

  The demon took a step forward with a growl, and Thornton stumbled back, his attention returning back to the devil spawn filling the room with its corrupted presence.

  The Adepts remained still and the Fianna slumped powerless against them, knives still pressed against their throats. I swallowed my fear and reached deep down to summon my strength. I had to do this fast before Thornton’s goons took us all out.

  “Who calls Gede forth?” it hissed deep in my belly. “Who creates this portal?”

  For a moment I forgot how to speak, words seeming so pointless in the face of so much evil. But then Finn’s face flashed in my mind, and I wrenched my arm away from Thornton, holding held my head up high.

  “It is I who created the portal for you,” I said. “My lord…um…Gede.”

  Its tail swished back and forth in a whip-like motion. “What is it you wish, Elizabeth Tanner of the Tuatha Dé Danann, daughter of Princess Niamh and James Tanner.”

  I shivered a little and wondered if it knew my blood type and social security number, too.

  I took a deep breath, reciting the request Máirtín forced me to commit to memory. “I wish for you to destroy Edward Thornton and the Adepts you see in this church, and to destroy only them and not me or my friends of the Fianna, and then let us go unmolested and completely exorcised of your control, and then have you return to your realm and allow me to seal the portal.”

  Thornton cried out in protest, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw a flash of steel. I turned to block it, but found Thornton frozen in place, a knife clenched in his fist. He made a low sound in his throat, and sweat beaded on his forehead as he tried to break through the demon’s spell.

  “And what will you give me in return, Elizabeth Tanner?” the demon growled in every crevice of my brain.

  I looked over my shoulder and flicked my chin at Thornton. “I will give you Edward Thornton as a sacrifice.”

  Thornton sputtered to life, the spell broken for a moment. He staggered back, his eyes wide. “It was my magic that summoned you forth, demon! This Fae just opened the door for you.”

  The demon shook his head, its upper lip curling with a low growl. “Which makes her my master. Not you.”

  I flashed Thornton a gloating smile, and he gave me a murderous glance.

  “But…” The demon’s voice sent a shiver down my spine.

  “I will require something more, Elizabeth Tanner,” it said.

  My hands shook and my knees turned to water. Máirtín said a human sacrifice would be enough. I locked eyes with the monster, and it spread its wings to their full span, casting a dark shadow over me.

  “What else do you want?”

  “What I want”—the demon pointed to my chest and smiled, revealing row after row of razor-sharp teeth—“is a piece of your soul.”

  I swallowed hard, my hand drifting instinctively to my chest. “What do you mean a piece of my soul?”

  “Just a small piece.” The demon cocked its domed head to the side. “You won’t miss it.”

  I glanced at him sideways. “Will I have to serve you in hell or something like that?”

  The demon threw back its head and belted out a sinister laugh so loud the marble floor tremored beneath my feet. “No, giving me a piece of your soul will not damn you to hell, but you will wear my mark forever.”

  “I already have demon marks.” I threw my wrists up, my coat sleeves falling back to reveal the blood-black inscription from the bracelets Lorcan used to bond me to him.

  “Yes, Elizabeth Tanner, I know all about the mark of Deava.” The demon clicked its long talons on the floor of the church.

  I let out a long, shaky breath. “What’s the catch, then?”

  “No catch.”

  My eyes flitted to Máirtín’s face, and he mouthed the word “no,” sweat trailing down the sides of his face.

  I glanced up into the buttresses, searching for an answer, for a way out. But all I could see was Finn’s limp hand dangling off the dining room table, the blood congealing from the deep wound in his side. Dad’s voice echoed in my mind.

  You have twenty-four hours. Maybe less.

  A cold sweat broke out on my forehead, and I threaded my shaking hands through my hair. A piece of my soul. Just a tiny piece. I could do this for Finn. Anything for him.

  Dude, you’ve seen the exorcist. You want to end up with your head screwed on backwards?

  But there was no other way. I had to see this through in order to save Finn. It didn’t matter the cost.

  “And you’ll let me and my friends walk out of here?” I peered up at the demon.

  “You will be free to leave.”

  “And no funny business. No controlling me, no bending my spine backwards, no using me to do bad things. You’ll just let us go?”

  “Yes.”

  I hesitated, clenching my fists and drumming them at my sides as I studied the demon.

  Its upper lip peeled back, baring his teeth, and he let out a low growl as his yellow eyes narrowed. “You are running out of time, human.”

  Rubbing my hands over my heart, I shifted back and forth on each foot, weighing the consequences. This was a terrible idea. Of epic proportions. Shadows closed in around me, the silence in the church stretching out between us. Sweat dripped down my spine, and my mind raced, searching for other possibilities. I would not let Finn die.

  But there was no other way.

  We could track down my soul. Something lost could always be found.

  But Finn’s life? Death for him would be the final word.

  “Human!” the demon cried. “Decide. Now.”

  I closed my eyes in a silent prayer, and when I opened them again, I nodded. “Okay.”

  A wide smile spread across its serpentine face, and it lifted its palm toward me. My insides burst into flames, and I clutched at my chest as a horrible pressure crushed my lungs. I fell to my knees, and a deep stabbing sensation burst in my sternum. I dry heaved, a strained choking sound filling my ears. Deep down in my esophagus, something round and marble-sized traveled up and into my throat. For a moment, it cut off my air supply and I coughed violently, holding onto my neck.

  With one final hack, a small, milky-white glowing orb flew out of my mouth, and for a moment it remained suspended in the air before my eyes.

  The demon’s smile stretched wider across its reptilian face, and it licked its lips hungrily.

  The small ball of light retreated from me, sailing like a dandelion seed on the air. An empty pit filled my chest, and my hands itched to reach out for it, to take it back. But it was already soaring over the pentagram, straight for the demon’s fist.

  Boom!

  The door of the church banged open, and I whipped around. A stream of Fir Bolgs entered the double doors, their large black eyes glittering in the dim light. Assault rifles covered in the sparkly tubing flashed in their hands right before a volley of bullets tore through the air.

  What the fuck?

  A bullet passed an inch from my ear, and I hit the floor, covering my head with my hands. What were the Fir Bolgs doing here? I cautioned a glance up through the shower of bullets. A blond-haired Fir Bolg bellowed orders across the church, waving his arms furiously.

  “Kill the demon!” he cried. “Capture Thornton. We need him alive!”

  The demon turned and roared, raising its talons to take out one of the Fir Bolgs, but it feinted right before it took aim. The demon jerked wildly as bullets ripped through its scaly flesh, his wings shredding against the assault. It clutched at its abdomen, a howl of rage shaking the rafters and echoing deep in my belly.

  The demon flashed me a venomous stare before folding
in on itself like an envelope and disappearing through the portal in the floor.

  The piece of my soul dropped to the ground and rolled into a grate. Bullets whistling above, I made to crawl across the floor toward it, but a mob of Adepts nearly trampled me as they rushed the Fir Bolgs. Blue light flashed across the church, blinding me, and I scrambled behind a pew.

  Thornton stood in the middle of the nave, lightning flashing from his palms, incinerating any Fir Bolgs in his path. Their weapons clattered on the floor, their bodies exploding in a puff of ash.

  Wiping my sweaty hair from my face, I glanced back at the Fianna. The Adepts had given them up and pounded on the ward, trying to break through it to get to their Master.

  I had to get my soul, but a goddamn magical Armageddon had broken out right over the grate. My heart pounded, but I tried to close my eyes, focus on a plan. I needed to use my powers, and my mind raced with possibilities. Blast them away from the grate or travel in and out? What if I got shot? What if the Adepts under the ward decided to take out the Fianna anyway? My shoulders trembled, and I tore at my scalp, wishing Finn were there. Finn would have known exactly what to do.

  Something cold pressed against my temple.

  “Get up!” a voice growled in my ear.

  My eyes snapped open and I came face to face with a snarling Fir Bolg, a rifle pressed right to my forehead.

  My knees shaking, I rose to standing, my gaze never leaving the hollow barrel of the weapon. I pointed over his shoulder. “Holy shit! It’s Thornton!”

  The Fir Bolg flinched and turned around. I pushed the rifle to the side. An earth-shattering boom exploded right next to my ear, leaving a high-pitched ringing behind. Letting the energy pool in my fingers, I blasted the Fir Bolg against the wall, his rifle shooting wildly across the church.

  “Grab her!” someone shouted behind me, but I didn’t look back as I raced to the ward.

  A rain of bullets eviscerated a pew a foot away from me, and I rolled behind a pillar, panting and rubbing my hand across the horrible ache in my chest. Closing my eyes, I reached out with my mind and pulled at the threads of the ward, tearing it to shreds.

  I slammed into one of the Adepts, and it stumbled back, tripping on its robes before tumbling to the floor. The other two Adepts ignored me and flocked toward Thornton, still swarmed by Fir Bolgs.

  A bullet zinged past my ear, and I dropped to the floor, my heart pounding.

  Seamus grabbed my arm. “We need to go! Now!”

  “But my soul!” I pointed to the grate fifteen feet away, but it was hidden in the mob. Bullets cut across the church and lights flashed as Adepts blasted spells at the trampling horde of Fir Bolgs.

  “You can come back for it!” Seamus shook me.

  A small cry escaped my throat, and I took one last glance at the grate before closing my eyes. When I opened them again, we stood in my father’s dining room.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The dining room table stood empty, its wood surface gleaming. A wave of nausea twisted my insides, and a cold sweat broke out on my forehead. Finn was gone. Finn was dead. Finn was in custody. The possibilities careened through my head like a car with no breaks, and I slammed my fist on the edge of the table before racing to the hallway.

  “Dad!” My voice strained with panic. “Dad!”

  Seamus, Regina, and Máirtín followed me, the suppression spell wearing off now that we were beyond Thornton’s control.

  “Lizzie!” Dad called out. “We’re back here.”

  I darted to the back of the house and breathed a sigh of relief when I found Dad and Finn in the guest bedroom. Finn’s eyes fluttered, and he reached a hand toward me. I let out a sob and threw my arms around his neck.

  He hissed in pain, his face contorting and turning away from me before he passed out again.

  “Máirtín!” I sought out the monk, my sight blurring from a veil of tears. All the events of the past twenty-four hours flooded back to me in a rush, and a wave of dizziness sent me reeling. I grabbed the headboard, my face hot and flushed, hiccupping Finn’s name.

  A gentle hand pulled me aside with a small tsk sound. “’Tis all right now,” Máirtín whispered in my ear.

  I circled around the bed, clutching Finn’s hand and pressing it to my cheek. He felt so cold, and I wept into his palm, rocking back and forth, lacing my fingers through his.

  Máirtín said something to Dad I couldn’t hear, and then the monk closed his eyes and placed his hands to Finn’s side. Slowly Finn’s color returned and his chest rose up and down with deep breaths.

  “Finn,” I said in a choked voice. “Finn…” I brushed strands of hair away from his forehead.

  “He needs rest,” Máirtín said, standing up straight and lingering by his side. “Make sure not to move him so the wound will heal properly.”

  “Thank you.” I gave Máirtín a weak smile, wiping my nose with the back of my hand.

  Dad cleared his throat. “Elizabeth?”

  “Mmm?”

  “Who are these people?”

  I glanced back at my Dad, who stood in the corner of the room, his arms folded across his chest as he studied Regina, Seamus, and Máirtín.

  “Well, this is—” I began.

  Dad waved his hands in the air. “On second thought, I don’t want to know.”

  Regina gave Dad a sideways glance. “We should probably be on our way.”

  I nodded. “I can take you back to Trinity once I rest a little bit.” My powers had reached about the end of the line, and I was exhausted.

  “No, you shouldn’t risk it,” Seamus said. “We have protocols in place for this kind of situation.”

  Máirtín turned to Regina and Seamus. “I need to talk to Elizabeth for a moment.”

  They nodded and wandered out into the hall. My Dad remained, frowning at Máirtín.

  “Alone,” the monk said.

  Dad stayed put.

  I sighed. “Dad, it’s okay.”

  He gave me a pointed stare, and I nodded. He left the room and closed the door.

  Máirtín took a deep breath. “What you did back there was very, very stupid.”

  “I know.” I stared down at the blue shag carpet, making grooves in the weave with my boot.

  Máirtín walked closer to me. “No, you don’t know, Elizabeth. Dealing with a demon is dangerous.”

  “But it all worked out.” My head snapped up to meet Máirtín’s stony stare, and my pulse raced. “The demon didn’t fulfill his end of the bargain and he never got that piece of my soul. So we’re like, square. Right?”

  Máirtín shook his head. “You made a promise. It’s not his fault that he didn’t have an opportunity to fulfill what he owed you.”

  My insides clenched, and I ran my hands over my hair. “What do I do?”

  “Pull down your pants,” Máirtín said.

  “What?” I shrank away in horror.

  Máirtín stole a glance at Finn, who was still sleeping, his face buried in the pillow. He grabbed my hand and pulled me out of the room and into the bathroom across the hall.

  I struggled against Máirtín’s iron grip. “What the hell are you doing?” I hissed.

  Máirtín leveled me with a cold, clinical stare. “Pull down your pants. Just a little. We need to check and see if you have his mark.”

  I quirked an eyebrow. “Seriously?”

  Máirtín frowned. “Elizabeth, I’m a trained physician. Pull down your pants and let me check.”

  I sighed and shook my head. Planting one hand on the sink, I undid my fly and dropped my pants slightly.

  Máirtín paused for a moment and then exhaled. “You’re clear.”

  I turned around, zipping my jeans back up and flashing him a weak smile. “See?”

  “But that doesn’t mean the demon won’t find a way to return and demand what you owe him.”

  My smile vanished.

  “When the coast is clear,” Máirtín continued, “you need to return to the church and retr
ieve the missing piece of your soul. You do not want it falling into the wrong hands.”

  I glanced up at the monk. A thick ache pulsed in the middle of my chest, as if someone had punched me. “So what happens to the rest of my soul? Will it be okay once I put it back?”

  Máirtín shrugged, folding his hands in his robes. “It’s hard to say since you’re half immortal, but losing a piece of your soul is like losing any part of you. If I cut off your hand or your ear, the wound may heal fine by itself…or…” He trailed off, staring out the frosted glass window.

  “Or what?” I demanded.

  “Or it could become tainted, the darkness spreading through you like an infection until you succumb to it.”

  I paced across the tile floor. “Well, which is it going to be?”

  “I don’t know. Not many immortals mess with demons. It is very unwise. What you have done is the ultimate blasphemy.”

  I whirled around. “I did it for Finn.”

  Máirtín gave me a grave stare. “No, Elizabeth. You did it for you. You did it because you could not bear to live without him.”

  A flush of hot anger swelled in me. “Don’t tell me you wouldn’t do the same for Regina if you were in my place.”

  Máirtín blinked and said nothing.

  “That’s what I thought.” I sniffed.

  “Regina and I are Fianna,” he said in a low voice. “We live with the reality of death every day.”

  I stared down at the powder blue tiles in a dizzying pattern of hexagons. Knowing my dad, the bathroom had been scrubbed with bleach a thousand times, but the grout had turned grey over years of use.

  “Elizabeth, your soul is a gift from God,” Máirtín continued. “Selling it, even a piece of it, goes against every divine law ever created.”

  “I don’t believe in God.” I glanced back at the monk. “I mean, not in the old man with the long beard in the clouds sort of way.”

  Máirtín let out a shallow laugh. “You think that is what God is? These demons, these angels may take on an earthly appearance, but our Father does not take these forms. He is the pure essence of light. That demon you saw tonight was just a facade of evil, and not even evil but the pure absence of good. By selling your soul, you have gone against the natural order of the universe.”