Irish War Cry

by Victoria Danann

  “Alright. Everybody is here except Finngarick and Sher O’Malley. Look around. These people are going to be your closest friends and family for, well, as I said earlier, we don’t know how long. But the fact is, they’re the only creatures in existence who are like you. Goes without saying that means you share a bond.

  “Let’s do a little in-the-family experiment.” Rosie motioned toward the candelabras that sat end to end running down the center for the entire length of the table. The candelabras were made especially for Black Swan with insignia to specifications. Three candles each. Eight inches high with candles. “Reach out and touch the candle flame and tell me how it feels.”

  Mo laughed. “It’s a trick, right? Some kind of trust test?”

  Rosie grinned. “If you like.”

  He shook his head, wiped his hand on his thigh, and passed his index finger through the flame in front of him. As the others watched, his hand returned for a second pass, lingering. He sat back, stared at the flame for a couple of beats, then held his entire palm over it while the others asked questions.

  Without moving his hand, he said, “It’s warm but in a pleasant way. Not like fire. Like summer sun.”

  “Not burning?” Rosie said.

  He smiled and shook his head again. “No.”

  The others scrambled to try it themselves. Instead of shoving people out of the way, four went over to the fire and put their hands over the flame there.

  Mo looked at Rosie. “What else?” he asked simply.

  Rosie was pleased to see that the hunters, at least some of them, were accepting the news with grace and even a sense of adventure. “It’s a whole new world, gentlemen. And lady. Meet me out on the field in the morning after breakfast. Eight o’clock. We’ll get started.” She waved her hand as if to indicate that she was finished, but then turned back. “By the way, I notice that you haven’t touched dinner.” The hunters still at the table looked down at their plates as if they’d either forgotten food was there or forgotten whether or not they’d eaten. All appeared to be ambivalent. “As a courtesy to the kitchen, let me take a survey. Any of you who actually intend to eat breakfast, raise your hands.” When she got no takers on breakfast, she said, “Juice?” Nothing. “Coffee?” Nothing. She turned to Grieve. “Well, there you have it.”

  Around nine o’clock Torn got a text from Rosie.

  Rosie: I’m told your lady is back where she belongs, which means it’s time for both of you to get back to work. Meet us at the Abbey tomorrow morning at eight. We’re taking the kids on a field trip. Get Sher up to speed and come ready to be teacher’s helper.

  Torn: Will be there. Tell Shy that Sher is fine.

  Since they had no interest in sleeping, the hunters spent the rest of the night discussing their rebirth as demons. Even those who were slower to get their heads around the concept were beginning to fantasize about the possibilities of long lives, if not virtually immortal, and being more powerful in a way that comic book superheroes could only fantasize about.

  After the experiment with fire, they decided to try a few others on their own. What began as taps on the biceps escalated to a full-on brawl between Blay McCaul and Tread Phillips. It was an odd spectacle to see two Black Swan hunters laughing while each was doing his best to see if it was possible to inflict damage on the other. They bit, pinched, punched, slapped, kicked, and finally stabbed each other with the knives that hadn’t been used to cut meat at dinner.

  Still laughing, they fell into big leather chairs.

  “That would have come in handy when I was hunting vampire,” Blay said.

  Tread nodded. “I’d bet my own life that my partner would still be alive.”

  “Maybe they’ll loan us out.”

  “Dunno,” Tread said. “But I’d do it.”

  Deck interjected. “We don’t know for sure that demons are immune to the vampire virus.”

  “Yeah,” Blay said. “But if…”

  Like the hunters hanging out at the Abbey, Torn and Sher had no need for sleep. After several hours of lovemaking and reveling in the transcendent delight of being reunited, Sher said, “So what ‘things’ did Rosie call everyone in to discuss? And why are you no’ there with them?”

  “I asked to stay behind just in case you showed up.” He shook his head slightly. “Truthfully, I did no’ think there was a chance of that happenin’.”

  “You must’ve. Or you would no’ have asked to stay.”

  He smiled and kissed the tip of her nose. “Maybe.”

  “Do I need to hear what she’s talkin’ about?”

  “Aye. I can catch you up to speed.”

  When he didn’t say anything more immediately, she pressed. “Well?”

  “You have no’ told me how you came to be here. Or what ’twas like where you were.”

  After she’d told the entire story with as much detail as she could remember, he said, “You left the necklace behind.”

  “Aye.”

  “But you knew how to return here.”

  “Aye.”

  “So, you know how the demon kept insistin’ that you’re like him?”

  She answered slowly. “Aye.”

  “’Tis ’cause ye are.”

  She stared for a few beats before laughing. “’Tis no’ the time for your infamous sense of humor, Finngarick.”

  “Wish I was jokin’ now, love. But ’tis the truth. You said yourself I look different.”

  “Aye, but…”

  “Sher. Search your heart. You know ’tis true.”

  She took in a deep breath that hitched twice, all the while staring into his too-blue eyes to make sure she was discerning honesty and not playfulness, but he was right. In her heart she already knew the truth, but wasn’t ready to confront it.

  “Shivaun?” He nodded. “What does it mean?” she whispered.

  “So many things. Things we have no’ even thought of yet. If ’tis permanent. There’s a chance ’tis temporary. Guess we’ll have to wait to see. But if ’tis permanent, it means we’re goin’ to live a long long time. And we’re no’ gettin’ older. It means we can come and go from this world like we were created elemental. Do no’ know what all else, but your sister and Deck and I discovered some things on our own…”

  “Show me.”

  “Now?”

  “You busy?” she challenged.

  It was the middle of the night, but that made no difference in the passes. There was no night and day in the passes. Whether it was midnight or noon at the jump-in point or the final destination, the passes in between were always the same murky gray, lit by some unnamed source that was not the sun.

  He grinned, loving her fearless, moxie response to a change that might have thrown a lesser person into a state of stupor.

  “Ne’er too busy for a date with my girl. Let’s go see what there is to see.”

  She suppressed a girlish squeal. Barely. “A date? I’ve heard about dates.”

  “But you’ve ne’er been on a date before?”

  She narrowed her eyes. “You know I have no’. You just love hearin’ that you’re the first at… everythin’.”

  He chuckled. “I do. I really do.”

  “’Twill be the best date ever. You know why?”

  He loved that she sounded a little breathless in anticipation. “Why?”

  “’Cause Shivaun and I love nothin’ more than exploration. That’s why we spent our time away from home growin’ up. There was always somethin’ new to see in the Forest.”

  Torn cocked his head and nodded. “Well, in a sense, this is custom made for you. ’Cause I suspect the exploration may be endless.”

  Grinning she said, “Stop your dawdlin’ then.”

  “I’m no’ dawdlin’. I’m appreciatin’ my mate’s astoundin’ beauty.”

  “Well,” she said, “in that case, you can dawdle for a minute.”

  He laughed, but grew more serious when he pulled her into his arms for a quick standing snuggle. “I can tell you t
his. We’re makin’ a change in how we do things. I’m no’ goin’ first anymore. I’m goin’ where you’re goin’. No one’s goin’ to grab you away while I’m no’ payin’ attention.”

  “’Tis no’ likely. I can find my way back. No matter what.”

  “If I did no’ believe that, we would no’ be steppin’ into the passes again.”

  They repeated the initial exercise that Torn had done with Deck and Shy. He told her how to let her focus go slightly off so that she could see the misty geysers Rosie called slips.

  “They open and close. Sometimes quickly. So we need to be holdin’ hands when we go through one of these.”

  “I have no objection to holdin’ hands.”

  He smiled. “Pick one.” She looked around and pointed. “Okay. When you step in, picture the portal underneath St. Patrick’s. I’ll follow you. Do no’ be afraid to go fast. I’ll keep up.”

  She laughed. “Oh. Will ye now?”

  “Okay, Sher. Kiddin’ aside. Do no’ leave me behind.”

  She smirked. “No’ today.”

  “What I heard was ‘not e’er’.”

  “They say people hear what they want to hear.”

  “Promise you will no’ be separated from me.”

  She could tell the teasing had turned to anxiety. “Glued to your side, Sir Finngarick.”

  He smiled. “Holdin’ you to that. Give me your hand until we’re inside. Then I’ll be right behind you.”

  They stepped in together.

  As Torn had instructed, Sher pictured the portal underneath St. Patrick’s, just as she had pictured the house in Dublin when she escaped Lyric’s lair, and immediately she knew how to go.

  The passes make up a system of elemental transportation that is a paradox. Like the mechanics of planetary rotation and moon tides, it functions perfectly, never requiring maintenance or repair. Yet according to the current human understanding of physics, it is utterly impossible.

  The passes are always in motion. The grid path that lies in front of an elemental traveler constantly adjusts to plot the intended route to reach the destination in the quickest and easiest way.

  The trip from the Dublin house to the portal under St. Patrick’s was accomplished in four seconds. When they stepped into the stone alcove where the portal could be accessed, Sher said, “That was…”

  Torn grinned. “Awesome? Wait till you see this.”

  He motioned for her to go through the portal.

  She stopped dead still on the avenue that lay before her and turned wide eyes to Torn, who laughed. “I know. We had the same reaction.”

  “Where did all these, em, creatures come from? And why did we no’ ever see anyone here before?”

  “They were here all along. We could no’ see them because they’re movin’ faster than we were able to see. Truth is this, Sher. Simon’s project ne’er would have got off the ground if it was no’ for this ‘accident’ that made us as we are now.”

  She turned back and ‘people’ watched for a bit. “Like that sayin’. You have to fight fire with fire.” He nodded. “Why are they starin’ at us as they go past?”

  He shrugged. “No clue. Unless ’tis because we’re starin’ at them.”

  They both laughed.

  “What did you do next with Declan and Shivaun?”

  “We went to see Rosie.”

  “In America?”

  “Aye. New Jersey. We ended up in her bedroom and we got a scoldin’ for it. She said there are rules about breakin’ in on people’s expectations of privacy and I guess she has a point.”

  “You guess? She was no’, um…”

  “No. No. She was alone, but no’ fully dressed.”

  “Oh.”

  Torn chuckled. “Deck was dumb enough to say that he likes lavender lingerie.”

  Seeing his mate’s glare, Torn’s mirth quickly dropped away. “I did no’ say I like lavender lingerie. And o’ course I do no’ have any interest in other females underclothin’.”

  “So you found your way to Rosie’s home in New Jersey. Busted in on her. Then what?”

  “She confirmed our suspicions.”

  “That we’re demons?”

  “Aye.”

  “Then what?”

  “She said she needed to gather all the hunters together for a chat. And she promised me that if you were no’ back in two days, she’d go fetch you herself.”

  “But I was.”

  “But you were.” He smiled. “That’s when I begged off goin’ to the Abbey.”

  Sher looked out at the busy promenade. “Can we go explorin’?”

  “I want to say aye, but I think we should exercise reasonable caution and hear Rosie’s briefin’ first. I’m all for adventure, but ’twould no’ be smart to set off into the unknown dumb as babies and completely unprepared.”

  “Stuffy. Stuff. Stuff.”

  Finngarick blinked at that. “Is that some sort o’ weird New Forest expression?”

  “’Tis what I’ll be callin’ you when you leave your bold at home.”

  “My bold,” he repeated drily.

  “Aye.”

  “You are no’ accusin’ me of cowardice.”

  She sniffed and looked around before saying, “No’ as such.”

  “NO’ AS SUCH!” Torn’s eyes blazed in a way that made Sher pull back. She could swear for a second his breath was heated.

  “Calm yourself, dragon. I would ne’er make such a suggestion. I’m just sayin’ ’twould do no harm to take a peek inside one of those doors.”

  Torn shook his head. “Be mad if you want, but no. There’s no fun in adventure when it ends without survivin’ to tell the tale. Do you grasp what I’m tellin’ ye?”

  Sheridan, who was much less experienced in the world than Finngarick, slowly began to recognize the wisdom of that. “You’re sayin’ the worst that could happen in the New Forest is bein’ chased by a ragged-tooth bear. And the passes are uncharted jeopardy.”

  Torn began to relax, seeing that she would accept reason. “Exactly. I like that you’re a thrill seeker. But there’s a fuck all difference between bravery and foolhardiness.” He ran a hand through his hair searching for the right thing to say. He didn’t want to discourage her sense of adventure. And he didn’t want to leave the impression that he was a pussy either. When he looked up, one particularly curious demon had slowed down. He’d given Sheridan the once-over, then did it twice and was going for three times. “What the fuck are you lookin’ at?”

  The demon smirked, looked at Sher again, then decided to move on.

  Finngarick took in a deep breath. He wasn’t used to explaining his behavior. In fact, heretofore, he’d mostly had a firm policy against it. But that was before.

  “Havin’ a hard time tryin’ to find the right way to say this.”

  “Why?” Sher’s expression softened. “’Tis just me. Anythin’ can be said ’tween you and me.”

  He nodded. “Before you, I would no’ have hesitated, because I just did no’ care. For the first time in my life I have somethin’ to live for. And I plan to be livin’ and enjoyin’ it for a very long time.” He pushed her very red hair away from her neck and traced her ear with his thumb.

  “You got another way to thrill me?”

  His smile widened into a grin made all the more salacious by his impossibly white, impossibly perfect teeth. He stepped in so close that their bodies were touching. She inhaled the seductive scent of demon musk and, for a minute, thought she might be a little dizzy with buzz. That was new.

  “I’d thrill you right here against this wall that might or might not be stone in the middle of where’er, whate’er, this is if ’twould no’ draw a crowd. But everybody seems far too interested in you. And that makes me nervous as a cat.”

  He pulled her into a kiss that began as playful, but turned steamy in seconds. When he smelled the scent of her arousal, he said, “Let’s get out of here. Nothin’ in the passes could compare to bein’ alone with you.”<
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  She pulled away giggling, then before he knew what was happening, stepped around and jumped on his back. “Give me a ride.”

  He hooked his forearms behind her knees so that she would be secure for a piggyback ride to break all previous records. They traveled straight back to the Dublin house, bypassing the portal, making use of Finngarick’s newly acquired strength and speed that were impressive even by demon standards.

  At eight o’clock the following morning Torn and Sher appeared in the great hall out of thin air. The hunters gathered there did not gasp or shriek, which was the typical human response to people suddenly appearing out of thin air. Instead, they seemed to take it in stride and acted as natural about it as if they’d been demons for ages.

  The one exception was Shy, who put on an excited burst of speed to rush her sister and attack her with a big squeeze of a bear hug. “Was so worried,” Shivaun said. “Did that thing hurt you?”

  Sher shook her head. “No’ at all. He wanted to teach me guitar.”

  “What?” Shy blinked.

  “Aye. He’s a music demon, I guess. Claimed that he could make me fall in love if he sang to me. But he has compunctions. He said he would no’ do that because it would no’ be real. Or somethin’ like that.”

  “Oh. Well. So you ne’er felt like you were in danger?”

  Everyone had drawn close and was gathered round to overhear the conversation by that point.

  “No. I ne’er felt like he meant to harm me. Just keep me. And, o’ course, I did no’ want to stay. So we argued about that. Constantly. And food. We argued about food because I was no’ havin’ any. He said either I was a demon or I needed to eat. I guess he was right about that. I had the feelin’ that he enjoyed the arguin’. Maybe he’s lonely?”

  “Hmmm. Could he no’ seek out others like himself?”

  “Aye. I suppose.”

  “So how did you get away?”

  “He’d put my bow on his wall in a case that looked like glass. I guess it was some kind of magic spell. He was sittin’ there playin’ his guitar like everythin’ was fine. No’ like he was holdin’ someone against her will. And all of a sudden the whole thing made me mad. I grabbed his guitar out of his stupid hands thinkin’ that I did no’ want to hear that anymore. I smashed it against the case thing on the wall. The guitar did no’ break, but the case disappeared. I picked up my bow and threatened him.