by Donna Grant
“We still need to check out her family. I want to rule out every possibility.”
Eoghan walked past them and began to look around the flat. Talin didn’t stop him. After all, no one knew Bran better than Eoghan and Cael.
“We need to get her out of here,” Kyran said.
Talin ran a hand down his face. “I know. I’m waiting for Atris to return with their parents. The two of you will need to hide when they arrive.”
“Of course. When do you expect him?”
“I’ve been expecting him. He found me first to watch over Neve while he found his parents. Atris said he didn’t trust anyone.”
“Eoghan and I’ll stay with Neve. Perhaps you should go look for Atris.”
Talin looked to the bedroom. “I left Neve alone once and she was nearly taken from me. I’ll not leave her again.”
Chapter Seven
An hour later, Talin had changed his mind. He, Eoghan, and Kyran had searched the entire flat. There were obvious instances where things had been shoved around in drawers instead of neatly placed as others were, but there was no hint of who poisoned Neve.
“It’s been over an hour,” Kyran said.
Talin clenched his teeth together. He knew exactly how long it had been. With every minute that passed where Atris hadn’t returned with his and Neve’s parents, Talin knew something had happened.
“When I leave, you must take Neve somewhere,” Talin told Kyran as he turned to face him.
The look on Kyran’s face said he wasn’t thrilled with that request. When he opened his mouth to respond, it was Eoghan who walked to them and gave Talin a nod.
“Thank you,” Talin told Eoghan.
He knew why Kyran faltered. Neve was a Fae, and Kyran was worried that Talin was in love with her. The problem was that Talin had begun to wonder himself if he had such feelings for Neve.
“Should you return to court alone?” Kyran asked.
Talin knew it was a risk he had to take. “I’ve no choice. I’ve always been alone.”
“I don’t think that’s wise this time.”
Talin shifted his gaze to Eoghan and shot him a questioning look. Eoghan looked to Kyran and nodded.
“All right,” Talin said. “Kyran will come with me. Where are you taking Neve?”
Eoghan shrugged and strode into the bedroom. He gathered Neve in his arms before returning to the living area. Eoghan pointedly looked at the wine glass.
Talin placed it on its side on Neve’s chest, the liquid still pooled within. Then Eoghan was gone. Talin didn’t like not knowing where he was taking Neve, but he trusted Eoghan to keep her safe.
“Ready?” Kyran asked.
He looked into his friend’s red eyes. “You’re going to need glamour to hide your hair and eyes.”
With a snap of his fingers, the silver in Kyran’s hair was gone, and his red eyes were replaced with silver. He smiled at Talin. “Satisfied?”
“Yeah. Let’s go.”
They arrived outside of the castle with the snow falling heavily. Talin looked at everyone around them. The Light were grouped in small numbers and talking quietly amongst themselves.
“The Dark court is loud,” Kyran leaned over and whispered.
“So is the Light normally.”
Talin made his way to the doors and entered the castle. There was an unusual and odd hush over the entire castle that prickled his skin with warning.
“Talin,” Kyran said.
He nodded as they proceeded further. “I know.”
They both walked cautiously through the main corridor. There were few Fae about. The ones they did see were gathered together, whispering.
Neither Reaper said a word. Talin couldn’t shake the feeling that somehow this involved Neve or her family.
Their boots didn’t make a sound as they strode into the main chamber. Of all the times Talin had been at court, he’d never heard the ballroom quiet. It was disconcerting.
He motioned for Kyran to follow him as he moved to the fringes. Talin didn’t trust anyone at court, so he wasn’t going to just walk up to anyone.
But it was easy to overhear things.
Just as Talin expected, it didn’t take long for him to discover what was going on. He came to a group of females huddled tightly together.
“The Reapers are real,” one said.
He and Kyran halted immediately. Kyran backed behind a pillar so he couldn’t be seen while Talin leaned against the wall.
“Does anyone know who it is?”
“No.”
“You’d think Usaeil would return after this.”
“Where is she anyway?”
“You mean with who?”
“Reapers. I just can’t believe it.”
“The Everwoods were taken so violently. Why do the Reapers want them?”
“Can’t be for good.”
“Perhaps we should leave court?”
“You can’t be serious? Where else would we get firsthand knowledge like this?”
“I don’t want any part of the Reapers.”
“Honey, if the legends are true, the Reapers will find you wherever you are.”
“Does anyone know if Neve was taken, as well?”
“Surely she was.”
“I haven’t seen her for a few days.”
“What if the Reapers took her first?”
“By all that’s magical, that must be what happened!”
Talin didn’t need to hear more. He pivoted and walked out of the ballroom. Neve’s brother and parents had been taken. He knew the Reapers hadn’t been part of it, but someone sure wanted the rest of the Light to think otherwise.
Bran.
“We don’t know where they were taken,” Kyran said as he caught up with Talin.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It does. And you know it.”
Talin halted and faced Kyran. He lowered his voice and said, “It’s somewhere in this damn castle. How else would everyone know?”
“We’ll learn a lot if we find the place.”
He knew Kyran was right, but Talin needed to get back to Neve. She had no idea about her family, and he wasn’t sure how much longer she could fight the affects of the poison.
As soon as Talin was outside, he thought of Neve and teleported away. Imagine his shock when he found himself in the middle of a forest with snow falling so thick he could only see a few feet in front of him.
“Where the hell are we?” Kyran asked from beside him.
Talin should’ve known Kyran would follow. He shrugged and walked through the piling snow. After a hundred yards or so, he stopped short when he saw the cottage.
It looked as if it had been plucked right out of the days of the Celts. It was large and round, with smoke coming out of the chimney.
“What is this place?” Kyran asked.
Talin felt the magic around it—Reaper magic. “I think it’s Eoghan’s. It must be where he goes off to sometimes.”
“I’ll be damned. Scotland? Why not Ireland?”
Talin walked to the door, Kyran a step behind him. When he reached the door, he thought Eoghan might be there to welcome them. But as he opened it, he discovered why he wasn’t.
Eoghan was sitting on a stump he used as a stool near the bed where Neve lay. He held his hands over her with his eyes closed. There was magic coming from him, but it wasn’t going into Neve. Instead, Eoghan was using his magic to pull the poison into himself.
After a few minutes, Eoghan tried to rise, but fell to his knee and dry heaved as the poison entered his body.
Talin rushed to him, grabbing Eoghan by the shoulders. Kyran helped Eoghan back onto the stool. Eoghan’s face was pale, and thick beads of sweat dotted his brow and ran down his face.
“What are you doing?” Talin demanded.
Eoghan had trouble holding up his head. He nodded toward Neve and then pointed at himself.
“This could kill you,” Kyran stated.
At this, Eoghan merely
smiled sardonically. His eyes slid shut a second before he fell to the side.
Talin and Kyran were there to grab him, but then an extra pair of hands appeared. Talin looked up to find Fintan.
The Dark cut his white eyes to Talin. “Cael will be here shortly.”
“That’s good,” Kyran said through clenched teeth. “He’s damn heavy.”
Talin used his magic to call up another bed, and the three moved Eoghan to it. Only then did Talin turn back to Neve. She was so pale.
“How did Cael know where we were?” Kyran asked Fintan.
Fintan snorted as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Cael is almost as all—seeing as Death.”
“Eoghan must’ve told him,” Talin said.
Fintan shoved him in the back. “I had Kyran going. You should’ve kept quiet.”
Kyran rolled his eyes. “I didn’t believe you.”
“Uh, huh. Whatever you say.”
Talin rubbed the back of his neck. “Where’s the wine glass?”
“Cael,” Fintan said.
That gave him a measure of peace. If anyone could discover what had been used, it was Cael. Not that it would do Neve any good in her present condition.
A shadow filled the doorway. They turned to find Cael, who walked inside to stand next to Neve. Talin had a dozen questions, but he held himself quiet until Cael looked at him.
“Eoghan has been pulling the poison from her since he brought her here,” Cael explained. “She was nearly dead, Talin.”
Talin’s knees almost gave out. “He saved her.”
“For now.” Cael released a breath. “The poison is a common one among humans called hemlock. It’s the added magic that’s causing the problem.”
“Because it’s dark magic,” Talin guessed.
Cael nodded. “Death is seeing if the specific spell can be determined. It was a good call getting the wine and the glass.”
Talin wasn’t sure it would be enough. He looked at Eoghan. “Will he be all right?”
“Yes. His body needs rest is all.”
At least there was that. Talin sank onto the tree stump. “Neve’s parents and brother were taken at the castle.”
“Taken?” Fintan repeated, surprise lacing his voice.
Kyran said, “I didn’t want Talin going alone. I heard the same thing he did. Everyone at the castle believes it was a Reaper who took the Everwoods.”
“The more I hear, the more I think Neve’s poisoning has to do with you, Talin,” Cael said.
Talin clasped his hands together and rested his forearms on his knees. “I’ve already come to that conclusion. I searched that castle. I looked at everyone. I never found Bran or anyone who I believed worked with him.”
“That just means they’re good at hiding,” Kyran said.
Fintan nodded his head of solid white hair. “Most likely, they were following you so they knew exactly when to stay out of the way.”
“I should’ve known.” Talin squeezed his hands into fists as the fury wound around him.
Kyran laid a hand upon his shoulders. “This isn’t your fault.”
“He’s right,” Cael said. “If it’s Bran or one of his men, he would know exactly what you’d do. What any Reaper would do.”
“Then we need to start thinking like Bran,” Fintan said.
Cael’s brows drew together. “I wouldn’t recommend that. It means you’d travel down the same dark path as he has. And you’d no longer be Reapers.”
“Then how do we fight him?” Talin demanded.
There was a long stretch of silence before Kyran said, “At court.”
Talin turned his head to look at his friend. “Have you lost your mind? We don’t want anyone to know we’re Reapers.”
“I never said we’d tell them.”
Fintan chuckled and dropped his hands to his sides. “I actually like this plan. Does this involve telling Neve who we are?”
“No,” Talin said the same time as Cael.
It was Cael who spoke then. “Neve will need to know about her family. She’ll do what any of us would in her place.”
Talin nodded as he looked at Neve. “She’ll want to return to where they were taken.”
“That’s where we’ll be waiting,” Cael said. “Veiled.”
Chapter Eight
Bran stared at the three Light Fae held before him with magic. They were seated—not that they would get anywhere with the Dark army surrounding them.
He first looked at the father. Carsir Everwood held Bran’s gaze, but there was fear reflected in the silver depths. The mother had yet to stop crying, nor would she look at him.
The son, well, Atris was another matter entirely. He stared at Bran with open hostility.
“You want to hurt me?” Bran asked.
Atris looked him up and down with complete contempt.
That made Bran smile. “I’ve felt that way before. It’s what turned me into who I am now.”
“What do you want with us?” Carsir asked.
Bran ignored him, preferring to focus on Atris. There was a possibility they could turn Atris to his side. And wouldn’t that just be the cherry on top of the cake?
He stood in front of Atris with his hands clasped behind his back. Silver eyes blazed with resentment and hatred. None of it bothered Bran. Not after spending what felt like an eternity in the Netherworld.
“Have you figured it out yet?” he asked Atris.
Atris’s lips peeled back in a sneer. “You’re the one who’s been watching my sister.”
“What?” the mother exclaimed.
Bran laughed softly. “So you do have a brain.”
“Why poison her?” Atris demanded.
“If I tell you that, it’ll spoil the surprise.” The mother began to cry harder. Bran rolled his eyes and leaned down so he was level with her face. “Neve isn’t dead. Yet.”
Bran straightened, watching as Carsir tried to comfort his wife with soft words, encouraging her to keep faith. His attention soon returned to Atris.
“You ran off, like a good lad, and found Talin. Just as I wanted.”
Atris’s brow furrowed, uncertainty tingeing his visage.
This was the part Bran loved. When someone began to suspect the Reapers weren’t who they said they were. Soon, Bran would tell Atris who Talin really was. That would most likely be the tide that turned Atris.
Bran inhaled and slowly released the breath. It was so great being him. Never mind the stumbles he’d made recently. This plan would be all he needed to get Cael—and Death.
And they would never see him coming.
It was all so close to coming together that he could barely contain himself. It no longer mattered that Death managed to find Seamus. He wasn’t useful anymore.
Bran wasn’t worried about anything Seamus could tell Death because he’d made sure Seamus knew nothing that could incriminate him.
He walked around the family until he stood behind Atris. Bran looked across the room to the man who was his right hand, Searlas.
Searlas waited patiently for Bran’s instructions, just as every Dark Fae who joined him did. The thrill of total and utter control was a high Bran suspected only Death truly understood.
“I used to be terrified of the Reapers,” Bran said. “The stories my family told me scared me terribly. The tales did their job. I didn’t turn to the Dark.”
Atris snorted.
Bran moved around to the front of the trio. “You think I lie?”
Atris jerked his chin to the Dark. “Have you looked around?”
“They’re mine. I gifted them with more power and magic than you can comprehend. They are under my command to do as I instruct.”
Atris looked bored. “Why? Because someone hurt your feelings?”
“Let me tell you the real story of the Reapers.” With a “come here” motion, Bran called a chair to him. It slid across the marbled floor directly behind him. He sat, placing his hands on his knees. “We’re not created to keep the
Fae from turning Dark.”
“We’re?” Atris asked with a laugh. “You’re telling me you’re a Reaper.”
Bran’s smile was slow and wide. “Oh, yes. I was one of the first. You see, Death is judge and jury to all Fae. But the Reapers, we’re the executioners.”
“You’re lying.”
“Am I?” Bran twisted his lips. “Death watches the Fae. She finds those who are warriors at heart. Those Fae who die because of a betrayal are sometimes selected to be a Reaper. There are seven of us at any given time. Well,” he said as he thought about the current Reapers. “Sometimes there are more.
“But Death has rules. No one can know of us. If any Fae learns who we are, they are immediately killed.”
Atris’s nostrils flared. “Then why tell us?”
Bran shrugged indifferently. “I like to do things my way.”
“Because you’re no longer a Reaper.”
The fact Atris guessed the truth did nothing to dampen Bran’s good mood. “For all intents and purposes, I’m still very much a Reaper.”
“What did you do to get kicked out?” Atris asked.
“I fell in love and told her who I was.” Bran thought of his love as an image of her filled his mind. “Death killed her.”
Atris rolled his eyes. “You want me to feel sorry for you because you couldn’t follow the rules?”
“No.” Bran rubbed his hands on his thighs a few times. “As Reapers, all we do is kill. Most times, we don’t even know why. Death sends us a name, and we deliver justice.”
“So why is there still Dark?”
“That’s a question you should ask Death yourself. To Death, the Dark will always be evil. It’s who they are. Death judges them on those terms. The Light are weighed on a different scale.”
Atris shook his head. “That’s not very fair.”
“Life isn’t fair. It’s why I decided to make my own rules.”
“And kill whoever you want?”
Bran leaned forward. “You don’t have to die.”
Atris looked to his parents before his gaze slid back to Bran. “You tried to kill my sister. You terrorized her for weeks. You’ve taken us hostage. Why would I listen to you?”
“Then don’t. The choice is yours. As for your sister, she was a means to an end.”
