by E. A. Copen
“Humans,” Lachlan hissed and extended two fingers pointed at the gathered police and two BSI agents. “I’m tired of playing the politician and peacemaker. We shouldn’t be playing second fiddle to humans.” The bullets vibrated and rose again, trembling in the air. They held there for a beat before shooting back through the air fast enough to break the sound barrier.
Agent Helsinki pulled Agent Rosie Rose behind his coat. The bullets struck the leather and bounced off harmlessly. The agent’s coat must have been warded against bullets.
Dal didn’t wait to find out. He had to get out from under that damn piano before Lachlan closed in on him. He kicked, pushed and grunted. He even tried to pry it off. It was useless. He’d been living off adrenaline since walking through the door, and the spell had all but sapped his energy. With what little he had left, he couldn’t pull in enough magick to move the piano and keep the runes charged in his weapon. He had only managed to move the piano an inch or two before Lachlan swaggered up and put a foot up on it, driving it back down. The move pinned his arm and momentarily interrupted his flow of power into the pike, which collapsed back into a harmless cylinder.
“I admire your courage, Dal. I really do. But you had to know you didn’t stand a chance. You’re a low-blood. I’m a full-blooded, Faerie-born Sidhe. There, I barely registered for power. But here…here I’m practically a god.” He laughed at himself.
“You can’t expect to walk away from this. If I don’t kill you, BSI will.”
Lachlan flashed his perfect, straight white teeth. “There’s no prison that can hold me. I don’t even need to be here. When I’m done with you, I will collect Lena and Grania’s bodies and go back into Faerie to reign as a lord in service to the new king.”
Dal had no idea what Lachlan was talking about. Fae politics had never been an interest of his, but if he could just keep him talking, maybe he stood a chance.
“Is that what this has all been about? Power in Faerie?”
“That’s right. And, like always, it’s gone completely over your head you pathetic, ignorant little redcap!” He lifted his foot to step on Dal’s head.
At that exact moment, Dal sent every ounce of energy he had into the pike. It expanded and grew at breakneck speed, faster than Lachlan’s leg could come down. It shot through the wood and innards of the piano, into Lachlan’s gut and out the other side. Surprise etched over Lachlan’s face and then realization. A tiny trail of spittle and blood ran out of his mouth as he gripped frantically at the silver spike running through him.
“Arrogant. Fucking. Prick,” Dal barked in staccato and then sent a jolt of magick into the silver.
Somewhere inside Lachlan, tiny, silver razor blades spread out from the pike and spun, drilling a hole two inches wide in Lachlan’s middle. He slid down the pike and lay motionless on top of the piano.
Dal grunted and pushed at the piano. It had shifted on top of him when Lachlan fell. With the extra weight, and in his weakened state, he knew it wasn’t going anywhere. And yet, when he tried a second time, the piano moved. A dark shape hovered into his vision. “Get this off of him,” Agent Helsinki ordered. “And where in blood’s name are the EMTs?”
“He’s dead,” Dal heard Rosie’s voice say, though he couldn’t see her. “Congratulations, Dallon. You got your revenge.”
Dal gritted his teeth as two men came and shifted the piano to the side. “Not yet.”
“Mr. O’Connor, I do not think you are in a position to negotiate,” said Agent Helsinki with a frown.
“Teddy Sullivan,” Dal managed as someone took him under the arms and pulled him out of the wreckage. “Alive or dead?”
Agent Helsinki lifted his head, the wide brim of his hat momentarily blocking out the sun. “The emergency response team is seeing to him now.”
Dal fought his way free of whoever was holding him and fought his way back up on shaky legs. Agent Rose moved to intercept him, unhooking her cuffs from her belt as Dal put a foot on Lachlan’s back and collapsed the pike back into a cylinder in the palm of his hand. Agent Helsinki waved for her to stop.
Dal took a deep breath. “Arrest me if you want. Put me on death row or give me life in prison if it makes you feel better. But the asshole your EMTs are trying to save raped and murdered my wife and child.”
Agent Helsinki nodded once.
“You can’t,” Agent Rose protested. “You can’t just let him!”
“Agents and officers of the law,” Agent Helsinki said, raising his voice. “Turn your heads.”
“Thank you,” Dal said.
He extended the cylinder slowly back into a pike and leaned heavily on it with each step as he picked his way through the debris. Two EMTs were bent over Teddy Sullivan, splinting his leg and fitting an oxygen mask to his face. “Step aside,” Dal demanded. The two of them exchanged glances as Teddy begged for them to protect him. “Step aside,” Dal repeated. “…or I’ll make you.” They listened the second time.
“Dallon, please,” Teddy sobbed. “I’m sick. I need help.”
Dal fought the pounding in his chest, the aches in his limbs, and the burning pain in his shoulder. “I don’t give a fuck what you need,” he growled and lifted the pike.
“Wait! If you kill me, every Sullivan in the city will be hunting you. Even behind bars, you won’t be able to hide. There’s nowhere you can go. Think about it. Wouldn’t you rather see me suffer in prison where I can be useful?”
Teddy wouldn’t see a day of prison, not after how everything went down. Dal knew that. There was no proof that he’d ever done anything, especially not after Lena and Grania’s bodies were taken to Faerie. And he would never, ever give evidence to BSI pigs. Dallon O’Connor was not a rat.
“Think about it, Dallon. We can help each other, just as I helped Lachlan.”
A fire lit in Dal’s chest, pumping white, hot blood through his body. With a shout, he raised the pike and brought the flat, dull end down on Teddy’s head with a resounding crack. Teddy’s eyes rolled, but Dallon wasn’t done. He slammed the blunt end of the pike against Teddy’s chest, breaking apart the old fae’s fragile ribs, kicked his broken leg, and then pounded the silver spike into his genitals, stabbing and mashing them until the blood stopped coming out of his body.
When it was done, he sank into the debris, exhausted. The only thing keeping him from falling over completely was his weapon. He propped himself up against it and breathed a sigh of relief. Finally, he was done. BSI would arrest him for murder and carry him away. If they gave him a capital sentence, he’d be happy to have it if it meant he’d get to kiss Lena’s smile just one more time.
Chapter Ten
After everything that had happened, getting arrested twice in twenty-four hours felt mundane. They put him through the same steps for killing three men as they had for running naked through the streets. Between the cruiser and the cell block, nobody but BSI agents cared why he’d been arrested at all.
Agent Rosie Rose tried to question him. Gave him the usual shakedown, the list of things she thought she knew. He sat with his wrists and ankles chained and stared at the cracks in the table. Wendy came and tried to speak to him, but he waived his right to representation, and said he’d represent himself.
Wendy frowned at him and tilted her head to the side, earrings jingling. “If you wanted to die, Dal, you could’ve done it on the outside.” She tried for another half hour to talk him into taking twenty-five to life if they offered it. He didn’t answer her so she buzzed herself out.
Dal sat for a long time after that, just listening to the second-hand circle on the clock. He wondered if they were still moving Lena and Grania’s body to Faerie, or if they’d wait and take Lachlan at the same time. Probably not, he decided. Since it was a crime, the coroner would want Lachlan’s body. Whoever stood for the Fairchilds now would petition for its release on cultural and religious grounds. It would be tied up in the courts just like him for the next six to nine months while Lachlan sat in a freezer drawer, not
hing more than a hunk of frozen meat. The thought of his beautiful face freezer burnt and pale green was oddly comforting to Dal.
Around noon, the door opened, and Agent Helsinki stepped in alone. He shrugged off his hat and slid it over the camera in one corner. Then he draped his coat over the one in the other. “I am told that Lachlan and Lena were the last of the true Sidhe in the Fairchild family.”
“Mickey was half,” Dal said, nodding. “But it was just Lachlan and Lena, yeah.”
“And now that Mickey is also dead, you have effectively cut off the head of one of the most powerful East Coast families in your quest for revenge.” He pulled out the chair and sat in it, adjusting his sleeves.
“Is that supposed to be funny?” Dal said, frowning.
“It is a lament. My employer would prefer for the Fairchild family to stay in power. He believes the Sullivans are much less open to…outside aid.” Agent Helsinki shrugged. “And based on my investigations into their operations, I am inclined to agree. If the Fairchild empire crumbles, it will create a vacuum of power. One the Sullivans will not easily fill. They will find opposition from the local werewolf packs, the vampire clans, and any displaced fae. In short, Mr. O’Connor, it will be nothing short of a blood bath if I do not find a Fairchild to put back on Lachlan’s throne.”
Dal thought hard. Agent Helsinki had a point. Except it wouldn’t be just Boston caught in the tug of war. Lachlan had connections up and down the East Coast and stretching as far west as St. Louis. The list of men who might replace him was short, shorter now that Dal had killed most of them. Kink wasn’t a candidate. He was Irish born and could only stay stateside for so long before he had to leave the country or else arouse suspicion. Bill and Lucky were fine fellows but followers, not leaders. Who else was there?
“Would you be at all interested in the position?” the half-blood vampire asked.
Dal gave a hearty laugh. “Should I run the family from my cell while I wait for the needle?”
“Stranger things have been done,” the agent said, shrugging again. “But no. Should you be interested, I would arrange for the most serious charges to be dropped. You would pay a fine and agree to behave yourself for the next few years. In exchange, you would be granted access to all of my employer’s resources, which are many. And, should you find occasion to eradicate the Sullivans, he would also be generous with his appreciation.”
Dal narrowed his eyes and leaned forward. “Who the hell do you work for?”
“I work for the American government, Mr. O’Connor, and in the interests of her people. All her people.”
“I don’t see how you can just make everything I did go away. There were dozens of witnesses. I’ve already confessed.”
Agent Helsinki drove his pointer finger into the table. “Any confession can be thrown out if given under duress. As for the bodies, they have yet to make it to the morgue to be documented. The transport vehicle seems to have been…rerouted.”
“And the witnesses?”
“Bribed and blackmailed into silence if need be. Otherwise, I have no less than four expert witnesses who will testify that everything they saw was an elaborate glamor. The house had a gas leak. Someone was careless lighting a fireplace and left the gas run. The Sullivans attempted a coup.” The agent spread his hands wide. “I can spin any story you like and make anyone believe it. But I will not make a move unless you are willing. I would not want to deprive a grieving man of the right to end his own life honorably if he so chose. However, there may be no greater vengeance against Lachlan Fairchild than running the empire he never wanted you to have. Certainly, there’s no more permanent disgrace in Teddy’s memory than to dismantle the Sullivans piece by piece, man by man.”
The agent was right. Dal had been blind to the possibilities because of his own grief and desire to be reunited with his lost wife and child. But even if Mickey was right, and there was a Heaven, Dal would never see the pearly gates. He had willfully broken the sixth commandment and had no intention of ever showing regret for it. Without sorrow and regret, the sacrament of confession was worthless to him. Lena and Grania were forever beyond his reach. An Earthly vengeance was not.
“All right,” Dal said, nodding.
“There are conditions,” the agent warned. “You will have to put aside the exclusivity that the fae are known for and welcome other species into your organization.”
“Done. What else?”
Agent Helsinki rose and drew a key from his pocket. “Nothing else for now. Just expand. Grow in strength and numbers. And when the time is right, I will call on you again.” He freed Dal from the cuffs and then stood to collect his hat and coat.
Dal rubbed his sore wrists. “That’s all?”
“That is all.” Agent Helsinki dropped his floppy hat on his head and opened the door.
“Wait. Where do I go from here? What do I do?”
The half vampire smiled a smug grin. “That, Mr. O’Connor, will be entirely up to you.”
***
Dal laid Lena and Grania to rest in the Boston Catholic Cemetery under an oak tree. The ceremony was small and simple, just the way Lena would have wanted. Dal hired a string quartet to play as they lowered the casket. They played so beautifully that even the sky shed tears.
As he trudged back to the car in the dreary, cold rain, Kink, Bill and Lucky fell into step behind him. Cat slipped her arm into his. He closed his hand around hers without words. He drew looks and glares, walking away from burying his wife and child with an elf on his arm, but it was nothing to him. Let them stare. Let them whisper and scheme and plot. With the passing of the last of the Sidhe, the low-bloods were all that were left now, and they weren’t so fundamentally different from elves. And elves were not so different from werewolves and vampires, or whatever other creatures he might find in his search to grow and make prosperous the Fairchild family name.
Blood was not enough to make a family strong. There had to be love. Trust. Belief. Most of all, there had to be loyalty. Dal would make those the cornerstones of his new organization. Come hell or high water, they would survive.
THE END
Afterward
Dallon O’Connor’s story is part of a larger world that began with Judah Black and Guilty by Association. While Dal and Judah live in the same world, and even the same country, their realities are very different. Judah is an agent of the law while Dal runs a large criminal enterprise. Both of them make decisions based on a very different set of internal values. Judah perseveres through her ever growing network of friends and allies while Dal favors a more direct—and often more brutal—type of confrontation.
That being said, there are also some fundamental similarities between Dal’s story and Judah’s. Both are parents, though Dal’s children are the people under him inside of the Fairchild organization. Both are underdogs dismissed initially by people in power because of situations beyond their control. Dal and Judah are both pawns in someone else’s game.
The United States that both Dallon and Judah occupy is a dark and violent place where supernaturals live in the open and must register with a government agency known as BSI. In addition, Dal must function inside another hierarchy that was established eons ago inside the realm of Faerie, a hierarchy where a pureness of blood and certain lineages are often more favored than others.
The world of organized crime in general is patriarchal in its organization. That is to say, it’s run by men. Women often occupy a precarious position that’s largely attached to the men they are associated with. When it comes to fae-run organizations, the position of half-breeds like elves is even less certain.
The Fairchild Chronicles explore a world where to be different is sometimes a fate worse than death. It also examines an organization where the trafficking of humans, supernaturals, women and children, is commonplace. This is a world where drug abuse is widespread and the ability to hold onto power is directly linked to a potential to do violence. Dal’s world is one of heavy choices and consequences,
few of which he has faced in the tiny space of this novella.
But these are also love stories in their own way. Nowhere does the light of love and hope shine brighter than in a dark world like Dallon O’Connor’s.
If you choose to continue reading—and I hope you do—you should know this book and the other Fairchild books that follow may be read separately. However, you’ll get the most out of the series if you read it alongside the Judah Black Novels where Dal will make future appearances. This book takes place in the months between Guilty by Association and Blood Debt. Even though it was chronologically released after Blood Debt, this is the official introduction of several key elements including Agents Helsinki and Rosie Rose, the magick enhancing drug known as rem, a fae-based power struggle, and the shady figure behind it all. Several characters will appear in both series. I have made every attempt to create two separate series, however. You can choose how deep you immerse yourself in their world, but you will get the most out of the series if you also follow the exploits of BSI Agent Judah Black in Paint Rock, Texas.
Thanks for making the journey with me.
About The Author
E.A. Copen is the author of the Judah Black novels and the Fairchild Chronicles. She’s an avid reader of science fiction, fantasy and other genre fiction. When she’s not chained to her keyboard, she may be found time traveling on the weekends with her SCA friends. She lives in beautiful southeast Ohio with her husband and two kids, at least until she saves up enough to leave the shire and become a Jedi.
