by Amy Sumida
“They're not witches,” Killian declared as he tucked his cellphone away and met my stare. “I told you they weren't.”
After I'd shared my theory that the men holding us, and possibly this elusive Varcan, were witches, Killian had nixed it instantly. He was half Flame Witch and completely certain that no Flame Witch could blow golden dust that made people fall asleep. When my other husbands and I had argued that new talents could have developed, talents that Killian didn't know about, especially since he was a caster witch, Kill had gotten on his cellphone to call the Flame Elder, Akhila Trivedi.
“Trivedi just swore to me that none of her people can do that,” Kill continued.
“There is no other explanation,” Drostan finally spoke. “They aren't fairies; of that, I am certain.”
“Unless they're a branch of psychic humans we don't know about,” I offered my backup theory.
“You mean like witches?” Killian countered.
“Kill, stop being so defensive,” I said wearily. “We're all just trying to figure this out.”
Killian sighed. “You're right. I'm sorry, babe.” He leaned over to slide his hand on my knee as he gave me a quick kiss. “I'm on edge. I have been since you were taken.”
“It's okay.” I stroked his cheek. “I'm so happy to have you with me. All of you,” I said as I looked at my husbands. “I was scared I'd never see you again.”
“We were too, mo shíorghrá,” Raza said softly as he leaned his head in to nuzzle my face.
Raza was sitting on the couch to my right, with Tiernan on my left, Killian had a chair at my right knee, and Daxon was sprawled half on my feet and lap as he sat before me on the floor. We probably looked silly, but none of us cared; we needed to be close to each other. My body was still trying to process the fact that I was safe and back with the men I loved.
“So, you think they're human?” Wayne got us back on track. “A branch of psychics who have been policing themselves like the Witches?”
“Like witches but not witches.” I nodded. “That man, Astar, told me that Drostan—ugh, sorry, Drostan.”
“It's quite all right, Your Majesty,” Drostan said politely.
Damn, it was going to take a while to get used to that distance between us. The real Drostan and I barely knew each other, and yet I had so many memories of him. Memories that I had to transfer to another person whose true face I'd never seen. It was screwing with my head.
“Astar told me that Varcan,” I tried again, “isn't a fairy. And when I asked if Astar was an extinguisher, he said 'Not my family.' I thought that was an odd turn of phrase.”
I also thought it odd that Astar said he didn't expect me to be so pure, but I didn't report that part. My husbands were only just coming down from a pinnacle of fear and fury. Hearing that Astar had carried me in his arms and said something so . . . well, just plain weird, would not go over well.
“Astar?” Wayne frowned. “That name sounds familiar.”
“It sounds like an alien. Like something David Bowie would name one of his kids,” Killian muttered. “And isn't Spock a Varcan?”
“That's Vulcan, babe,” I said dryly as I gave him the Vulcan salute.
“Live long and prosper,” Killian said with a grin. Then his grin turned into a grimace and he whined, “Who the fuck are these people?”
“Maybe they were raised on a commune in the middle of nowhere, with their weird magical parents,” Daxon murmured. “Like somewhere in, oh, I don't know, Alaska.” He smirked at Killian. “Somewhere where weird names aren't weird because they're the norm.”
“Ha-ha, very funny, Daxon.” Killian rolled his snake eyes.
“He used another weird word,” I murmured as I tried to remember. “Ha-something Hock-ill, it sounded like.”
“Hock-ill?” Wayne asked. “That's a really weird name.”
“It sounds familiar to me,” Nightblade murmured and frowned.
“It's not a name. Astar said that Varcan was using his hakhil to hide behind. So, it must be some kind of protection spell,” I said. “And there's one more thing. This is going to sound crazy.”
“I think we're way past crazy, Twilight.” Killian smirked.
“I think I can sense them,” I said hesitantly.
“What?” Daxon blinked up at me.
“I thought it was just Drostan—Ugh! I mean Varcan. I thought it was only Varcan who I could sense, but it's not. I think it might be a side-effect of that Dark Kiss he gave me. He put some of his blood into it to key it to him, and I think it connected me to his kind, in general. Even after the effects of the drug wore off, I could sense them.”
“Connected you to his kind?” Nightblade lifted a sharp brow.
“I can sense when they're near,” I tried to explain. “I couldn't when I was drugged with Quell, but as soon as my magic returned, I felt Varcan. Even if I had closed my eyes, I would have known where he was standing. Oddly enough, I never sensed his glamour, but then I never thought to look for one. But I felt him. And I sensed Astar too. Right before he stepped onto the roof, I felt him approaching. In fact, now that I think about it, I got a stronger impression from Astar than Varcan. Perhaps it's a power thing. I'm pretty damn sure that Astar is more powerful than Varcan.”
“So, by trying to love him, Varcan has unwittingly given you the ability to track him.” Tiernan grinned wickedly.
I scrunched up my face pensively. “I don't know about tracking; I can't sense him now. I think I need to be in proximity to him. The closer I get, the stronger the feeling.”
“Still, we can use that.” Wayne pointed at me. “Hell, if we get desperate, we can drive around and wait for your spidey senses to go off.”
“Okay, but before we get desperate, let's go over what we know to be fact,” I said, trying to regain some feeling of control and normalcy. “Drostan has been imprisoned since returning from Fairy, several months ago. So we know that the man who imprisoned him, Varcan, has been playing a long game. By his own confession, we know that his plan was to capture me and use me as leverage over the Councils and the Kingdoms of Fairy until he could perfect Newt and use it to control humans, possibly even fairies too.”
“Fucking bastard,” Killian hissed. “I'm tearing that motherfucker apart.”
“We can have a tug-o-war with him,” Raza grinned viciously. “My dragon and your snake.”
“Your on, Beast Brother!” Killian held his fist out to Raza.
Raza was mad enough that he actually gave Killian a fist-bump. Which thrilled my Nathair-Sith husband to no end.
“Anyway,” I drawled. “Varcan says he fell in love with me during the last mission and his goals changed a bit. That's when he tried his Call of Danu scheme.”
That got a growl from Raza while Tiernan's hand on my thigh tightened.
“We know that Varcan was the mastermind behind Newt,” I went on, trying to get us through the list before my men lost it. “He manipulated Verisande, who you say, you've never met. Right, Drostan?”
“Correct, Your Majesty,” Drostan murmured.
I didn't need his confirmation, but it felt good to say it again. Knowing that the real Drostan wasn't pining for a woman he had killed to save my life, lifted a weight from me. Then I blinked.
“Hold on,” I whispered. Then, in a stronger voice, I said, “Felix warned me about Drostan.”
“That's right,” Raza said. “I remember now.”
We all turned to look at Felix, who stood at attention, along the wall.
“It didn't feel like lightning,” Felix explained. “It was fire. Only fire.”
“You were right, Felix,” I said. “I should have listened to you.”
“You did, Your Highness,” Felix protested. “You listened, but there was nothing you could do at the time, and there was no way to know that he wasn't the real Drostan. That thought never occurred to any of us.”
“Still.” I shook my head. “We never saw Varcan use lightning, only fire. Even when he killed Verisande,
he burned her.”
“Okay, we've established that Varcan isn't a fairy,” Wayne said. “Let's not belabor the point. What else do we know? We know that Varcan has vast resources, not just those he stole from Drostan. He also has an army, or at least a military group, though its ranks may be significantly thinned now. We know there's a military force of individuals with similar magic and strange names hunting him. Oh, and Varcan can vanish into thin air like a Twilight Fairy.”
“And it wasn't even twilight,” I muttered. “He has no limitations.”
“The fucker,” Killian hissed.
“It explains why Varcan seemed to have no loyalty to either humans or fairies,” I murmured. “He told me that he'd have no problem experimenting on either race.”
“And yet, he developed drugs for humans,” Wayne said.
“Only at first,” I argued. “He's got things for fairies too. And he's either been paying fairies for their magical contributions, or he's been killing them.”
“So, now we have to monitor the streets for several types of magical drugs and warn the Fey community to be on guard,” Wayne huffed. “Something tells me this fucker isn't going to stop just because he's had to relocate.”
“I think you're right,” I agreed. “He's too prepared. Varcan probably had another hideout lined up and went straight to it.”
“I'll have the Prince of the Missouri Underground put out a warning to the fey of the area,” Daxon said as he pulled out his cellphone.
“I wish we could speak with this Astar person,” Wayne grumbled.
“Me too,” I said. “But right now, I just want to get back to St. Louis and get some sleep.”
“St. Louis?” Daxon asked, lowering the phone. “Don't you want to go home?”
“Did you not catch that this is far from over, dude?” Killian cocked his head at Daxon. “We have to stay in St. Louis and clean up the streets until we find this bastard and clean his clock.”
“Clean his clock?” Felix whispered to Gradh.
“It's a human saying,” she whispered back.
“Yes, but I'd rather Seren be somewhere safe while we do that,” Daxon snarled over the sound of my guards. “Especially since this man, whoever he is, is obsessed with her.”
My other husbands gave Daxon a long look. Tiernan and Raza sighed while Killian just snorted.
“What?” Daxon snapped.
“Dude, how long have you been married to Seren, and you don't know that she's not a woman who hides?” Killian shook his head. “Our wife isn't going anywhere until she knows that dickhead is dead. And I support that.”
Daxon turned toward me, his arm filling my lap. “Sweetheart, I know you want to fight, but—”
“Don't finish that sentence, Dax,” I warned him.
He sighed and stretched his shoulders. “Fine. I guess we're all staying.”
“And we're going to need to find a hotel,” Killian said. “I don't think we should impose on Drostan anymore.”
“Impose on me?” Drostan asked, perking up.
“Varcan offered us the use of your home. We've been staying in your guest house and guest rooms,” I explained. “And the teams have been working out of your entertainment room.”
“You mean my living room?” Drostan frowned.
Killian chortled as he slapped Wayne's shoulder. “Living room—you were right, dude.”
“I knew that guy was a pretentious prick,” Wayne muttered.
“No, you didn't!” Killian laughed harder. “You had a bromance going with him.”
Wayne cleared his throat. “I was merely grateful to him for offering us the use of his home and for calling the Fairy Council. Both of which are now looking like part of his evil plans.”
“Why did Varcan bring in the hunters?” I mused. “He didn't have to do that to get me to St. Louis.”
“Who knows?” Wayne muttered. “The guy is fucking nuts.”
“You are all welcome to stay,” Drostan said, surprising us into silence. “I'd like to be a part of this mission if I may. Watching that man be torn apart will be very satisfying. I think humans call it closure.”
“In that case, welcome to the team,” Wayne said with a grin. “This feels a little like deja vu, but thank you for your hospitality.”
“Hold on!” I stood up and pointed at Drostan. “You've seen him!”
Drostan frowned warily. “Yes.”
“No, I mean, you've seen the real Varcan. You know what he looks like.”
“Sure. I can give you a description,” Drostan offered. “But that won't be much help when the man can look however he wishes. He could have been wearing a glamour when he took us.”
“Still, it's something,” I said firmly. “And I'll take anything that can help us find him.”
“Babe, that's just the start,” Killian said as he waggled his fingers at me. “There's a lot of things to touch in this place.”
I grinned. “Let me show you where to start.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Yeah, I know I said I wanted to go back to St. Louis and get some sleep. After all the searching and explaining had been done, it was late evening, but Killian's reminder of what he could do had given me a second wind. Kill has psychometry—the ability to read objects. He can touch something and read the thoughts of the last person who held it and sometimes see images. It's a really helpful ability, especially with his job, but it can be exhausting. It's hard to know what will give Kill the information he's after, or any information at all, and he often has to spend a lot of time picking things up and concentrating on them. In a place this size, he could be there for hours. Which was why it was helpful to have someone directing him on what to touch.
Psychometry isn't the most reliable of psychic abilities. I have some light clairvoyance myself, which is a related talent, but my visions come few and far between, without any warning or prompting. Killian's psychometry could at least be directed and prompted by what he touched, but what he got from the items could be an image of the last person who touched it, a vision from them, their thoughts, or, if something traumatic had happened to the item, he'd see that. Unfortunately, that last bit hadn't occurred to me until after Killian had casually leaned against the bed in Varcan's room.
I had told my husbands what happened with Varcan, but it had been a concise, unemotional report. I hadn't gone into detail or told them about my near-rape because they didn't need those images in their heads. Plus, they weren't the only ones who had been listening to my report. So, Killian knew that Varcan had drugged me and nearly had sex with me in that bed, but he didn't know that Varcan had tried to rape me when the drug didn't work. When Kill touched the bed, the trauma of the event pushed a vision straight into him, and he experienced it. Whether it was through Varcan's eyes, mine, or just the neutral images recorded by the bed, I didn't know, but he was instantly beyond speech. All he could do was roar.
“Killian!” The moment I saw his face, I knew what had happened. “Killian!”
People rushed into the room, at the forefront were my other husbands.
“Stay back!” I shouted at them.
But it was too late. Killian's fury magnified when faced with what he perceived as aggression, and it sent him over the edge. In seconds, he shifted into a giant snake. Russet-auburn scales caught the light like freshly spilled blood as his enormous coils filled the room. The eerie sound of scales sliding against scales grated through the air.
I ran for the door. The end of Killian's tail hit me and sent me stumbling. I looked back over my shoulder as the tip lifted, the three spikes at its end glinting like blades. In slow motion, I watched them descend. Raza snarled and dove for me, shifting from the human guise he wore into his fey body as he came. Dark wings, gleaming crimson, spread wide above us as he snatched me to his broad chest. Those wings closed around me protectively as Raza rolled us away, seconds before Killian's barbs smacked into the floor, leaving three large holes behind.
Killian wasn't trying to att
ack me, he was simply reacting, and his instincts told him to destroy that bed. Horrifying shrieks issued from his mouth, his hinged jaw dropping open to showcase the venom that dripped from fangs as long as my forearms. Kill snapped his teeth at the phantoms in his mind, his vivid, green eyes wild with rage.
“Killian!” I shouted as the bed splintered into kindling.
“Get the fuck out of the room!” Daxon shouted at everyone.
