by Isabel Wroth
“I’ll bring you back however many times it takes to pull down this barrier and free his spirit,” Astrid promised, her expression tormented as she held onto Kerrigan’s wrist.
“If I let you stay here, you won’t be able to find your way back, and you’ll be lost on the astral plane, your body in a coma until you die.”
Kerrigan looked back to the shadowy outline of the man who still held her whole heart, and she didn’t care. So long as it meant she could stay with him.
“Astrid, please. Go.”
“I’m sorry, I can’t.” Astrid latched onto her and pulled, and the sensation Kerrigan felt could only be described as being yanked backward through a knothole at ten thousand miles an hour.
Slamming into her body at full throttle was the second most painful thing she’d ever felt, and Kerrigan didn’t realize she was screaming until she was lifted up into strong arms and the scent of snow-covered evergreen permeated her senses.
A gentle hand stroked the tears off her cheeks and settled on her forehead; the sensation that flowed over and through her was like the spread of warm honey, thick and soothing.
Her eyelids were so heavy, but she opened her eyes and immediately started crying all over again when she saw it was Ilex cradling her and not Maksim.
The red-haired fae gave her a gentle look of understanding.
“I am not the one you love, but I can soothe your pain.”
“No magic in the world can do that.” She bawled, but the feeling of having had every bone in her body shattered started to ease.
The less she physically hurt, the more pronounced the renewed heartbreak became. So busy crying all over Ilex, she didn’t realize he’d brought her home until he was tucking her into bed.
Astrid crawled in with her, latching on with arms and legs while the storm of grief raged. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t lose you.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Astrid really hadn’t been kidding when she said going on their astral trip could potentially end in a hangover of epic proportions if things went wrong. Of course, it hadn’t helped that on top of being forcibly shoved back into her body, Kerrigan had a complete meltdown and cried herself to sleep.
Her eyes were dry and gritty, swollen from crying. Every beat of her heart pumped blood up into her head, her veins throbbing against what felt like a fifty-pound vice cinched down around her brain.
Her movements were jerky and stilted, so for the most part, she sat still and tried not to gag when Reece set a plate of bacon and eggs down in front of her.
“Pancakes are comin’. You want some coffee?” he asked kindly. Even whispering the word ‘no’ made Kerrigan’s head hurt.
“The tea in the green canister, not coffee,” Astrid said when she came shuffling into the kitchen.
She didn’t look like she felt much better, and Kerrigan was glad to see she wasn’t the only one who turned a little green around the gills in reaction to the food Reece quickly put out.
The lion enforcer flipped a pancake before looking over his shoulder at them with an intense frown creasing his brow.
“You’re sure you’re both alright?”
“Nothing some of that tea won’t fix,” Astrid whispered, slipping on a pair of thick sunglasses.
Kerrigan wanted to snap and snarl at her coven sister. Tea wasn’t going to fix anything, but she didn’t dare speak and add to her agony.
“Alright. Tea, comin’ up. Hey, bro. You need some grub?” Reece’s gruff greeting made Kerrigan carefully glance up to find Ilex leaning in the kitchen doorway wearing a pair of jeans and a dark blue Fisherman’s sweater.
His bright green eyes bored into her with an intensity that flipped her already queasy stomach, and this time, she couldn’t blame it on his Fae magic.
Ilex came further into the kitchen, bringing the scent of deep forests and snow with him.
“My thanks, but I do not consume the flesh of animals.”
“You’re vegan?” Reece choked out, looking at Ilex with the most comical look of horrified disgust twisting his face.
Ilex tilted his head to the side curiously. “If that means I do not eat meat or foodstuffs that require the death of an animal, then yes, I am vegan.”
“Vegetarian, but that’s just as bad,” Reece muttered like being a vegetarian was akin to cannibalism. “You’re stacked, man! How do you make muscles eating rabbit food?”
The concept was clearly difficult for Reece to digest, and while he dished up pancakes for everyone, he boiled water for the fragrant tea that did wonders to dull the hammering in her head.
“I am not certain. May I offer my healing services? It will work much faster than your tea.” Ilex looked at Kerrigan with a gentle dip of his chin. Astrid immediately accepted, but Kerrigan couldn’t help thinking about what Maksim’s tormented spirit said last night.
He was in hell. In agony with no relief.
How could she accept healing when it was her fault the love of her life was suffering, even in death?
“Yes, please,” Astrid answered, folding her hand tentatively over Kerrigan’s arm, as though she were scared Kerrigan would lurch away.
Kerrigan was angry, but not because Astrid had been a loving, loyal sister.
“Kerrigan is worse off than I am. I jerked her back pretty hard.”
The guilt in Astrid’s voice was just another pain layered on top of all the rest of Kerrigan’s aches.
“I’m fine.”
Ilex came to her side, making her skin prickle with awareness. It felt so much like the physical symptoms of arousal, confusing because aside from appreciating his beauty, there was no desire to fuel her response.
He lifted his hand, and it might have been the pounding in her head that distorted her vision, but she could have sworn she saw foggy tendrils of pale green mist swirling around his fingertips.
“Clearly, that is an untruth. May I?”
“Uh… sure. Yes. Thank you,” Kerrigan stammered, wondering if it was absolutely necessary for Ilex to tenderly cup her cheeks in both hands or to slowly slide his fingers back into her hair.
This time, the healing magic that swept through her felt like effervescent peppermint, cool and tingling. When he took his hands away, the only pain Kerrigan felt was emotional.
“Better?” Ilex asked.
Kerrigan forced herself to smile in thanks. “Better.”
He moved on to Astrid after giving her a nod, and Astrid leaned eagerly into his hands with a sigh of relief.
“Thank you, Ilex.”
“Of course. I would like to understand what happened last night if you would be willing to discuss it.”
The formality of his speech came from being raised as a prince, the cadence reminding her of Maksim’s bone-deep gentlemanly ways.
Astrid tossed her sunglasses on the table and tucked into her food, seemingly without a problem.
Kerrigan was still feeling queasy, but not because she was physically in pain. The time for keeping her pain and grief to herself had long since passed.
“A long time ago, I was responsible for my mate’s death. I’ve been trying for the past twelve years to summon his spirit, but over and over again, I failed.”
“That wasn’t your fault, Kerrigan,” Astrid said around a mouthful of pancakes. “You definitely had a psychic roadblock put up around you.” To Ilex, Astrid said, “Last night, I took Kerrigan into the astral realm to remove the block, and she was able to sense her man’s spirit.
“When we got to where it’s being held, there was an invisible wall. A barrier that transcended the physical realm into the astral. I’ve never come across anything like it. We couldn’t get through.”
Kerrigan got up and went around to the fridge for some orange juice, finding it easier to talk when she didn’t have to face Ilex.
She told him everything, even the part about how she’d left Maksim’s spirit to suffer. When Kerrigan finally looked up, it was to see Ilex frowning, and Reece looking more than a little bit di
sturbed.
“Maksim used the word ‘desiccation?’ You’re certain?” Ilex asked with a thoughtful frown.
“One hundred percent. Why?” Kerrigan sat down because her knees felt a little rubbery.
Ilex sat across from her, picking up a fork to spear up some syrup-drenched pancake, taking the time to thoroughly chew and swallow before answering.
“This is delicious—”
“Ilex, don’t change the subject. Whatever it is, just tell me.”
The former prince gave a slow nod, giving her the courtesy of looking directly at her. “Did you know that vampires are cousins of the Fae?”
“Never heard that before,” Reece grunted, stabbing at the big pile of bacon.
She hadn’t either. “I’ve done a lot of research on vampires, but that information wasn’t in any of the books I read.”
“I doubt it would be,” Ilex commented, pausing to take another bite of food.
Impatience nipping at her heels, her fingers tightened around her fork, contemplating driving the tines onto the back of his hand to hurry him up.
Kerrigan really thought about it, but stabbing Ilex would very likely upset Ivy.
“It’s a well-kept secret, as is the true hardiness of vampire kind. You see, the first vampire was in fact an Unseelie Fae. He was extremely difficult to kill, close to impossible, and this is a trait he passed on to his offspring.
“The vampire council cleverly and carefully propagated the myth that a stake or blade to the heart was the only way to kill a vampire. They wrote the manuals and novels that explained the various methods used to kill a vampire.
“As I understand, it was a tactic to identify vampire hunters. The rumor purposefully spread in hopes that should a vampire and his clan be discovered and these fraudulent methods of execution utilized, they might later be revived by their brethren.
“A few hunters here and there were overly cautious and took further steps to ensure their victim would never rise again, but not many. The truth has been a carefully kept secret since the creation of the species.”
The taste of bile crept up the back of Kerrigan’s throat as the implication of all that information started to sink in.
“What are you saying?”
With a sharp clink, Ilex put his fork down and pinned her in place with his vibrant green eyes.
“Desiccation is a word used to describe a vampire who has gone so long without blood, his body essentially mummifies. If the desiccation is prolonged, the vampire falls into a state of hibernation.
“Even after decades of desiccation, a vampire can be revived, but it is a difficult process that requires an older, stronger vampire, and copious amounts of blood. The only way to truly kill a vampire is decapitation and incineration of both head and body, separately. ”
Kerrigan tried and failed to force her lips to form words, and when she finally managed to speak, her voice was a hoarse, stilted whisper.
“Are you telling me Maksim has been alive all this time?”
“From what you described of his death and what you heard in your astral form, it is… possible.” Ilex delivered his news gently, but it still felt like a bomb went off inside her. She looked down, expecting to see a red, gaping hole in her chest.
Astrid had been conspicuously quiet for the entire conversation, which was as good a confirmation of the truth as any.
Kerrigan staggered to her feet and stumbled out of the kitchen and out to the veranda. The icy wind slapped at her cheeks; her lungs burned as she struggled to pull in deep breaths, the world around her spinning in a blanket of white as she tried to make sense of her memories and what Ilex told her.
Maksim… alive?
She didn’t realize anyone had come to her until Abel and Doyle appeared on either side of her, both of them talking over one another to try and decipher what her problem was and why she was standing out in the bitter wind, barefooted in her pajamas.
Kerrigan didn’t struggle when they brought her back inside. She didn’t even look up until one of them picked her up to put her on the counter, wrapping a blanket around her shoulders while the other hastily wiped the snow off her bare feet and found socks from the laundry for her.
“I swear, if you did something to hurt her, you fairy fucker, I’m gonna rip your goddamn arms off and shove them up your ass!” Abel roared.
“No,” she said, but her chest was so tight, there was no sound. Kerrigan tried again, barely able to squeak out a whisper.
Calmer and more observant than most of the lions she’d met, Doyle ducked his head to catch her gaze.
“Kerrigan?”
“He’s alive, and I left him there.” Saying it out loud shattered something fragile inside of her.
The tears rushed back to blind her, and without looking, Kerrigan launched herself off the counter with a sob.
The socks on her feet caused her to slip and slide across the wood floors, and on the stairs, she had to use hands and feet to propel herself forward, bursting through her half-open bedroom door to grab at random things her panicked brain told her she would need and threw them into her satchel.
She pulled on a pair of pants beneath her gray sleep shirt, hopped into her winter boots, threw on her coat, and shoved a beanie on.
Kerrigan was in the process of upending every item on her desk in a crazed rush to find her damn car keys when three lions, a tired witch, and a fairy prince invaded her room.
“Kerry, what are you doing?” Astrid asked, bending down to scoop up Kerrigan’s keys from where they’d fallen off her nightstand.
When Kerrigan heard the familiar jangle, she turned and lunged for them, only to have Astrid snatch them behind her back.
“Kerrigan, talk to us.”
It took too much effort to speak, her heart racing faster than a derby winning horse.
“KEYS!” she shouted, making Astrid jump and thrust them forward with wide, startled eyes. Kerrigan immediately felt bad for snapping and went in for a quick hug. “I’m sorry. I have to go. I need to… I need to make sure.”
“We’ll help you,” Astrid declared.
Kerrigan shook her head wildly, not wanting someone as bright and beautiful as Astrid to descend into hell with her.
“If we both go, there won’t be anyone to keep the shop open for Rowena.”
Astrid narrowed her eyes, no doubt about to call Kerrigan on that lame-ass excuse, but Ilex piped up, “I will go with Kerrigan.”
“Us too,” Reece interjected roughly, jerking his chin in Doyle’s direction. “We’ll look after Kerrigan, Astrid. You stay here and hold down the fort.”
Astrid clearly looked torn, but after a quiet moment, she settled with a nod. “Okay. Where are you going?”
The very last place on earth she wanted to go.
“Vermont.”
*****
Kerrigan sat in the back seat of Doyle’s huge truck with a cooler of bagged blood Doyle had acquired on the way, picking the polish off her fingernails, knee bouncing up and down, checking her watch every five seconds. She didn’t ask how he knew the kid who’d met them in a grocery store parking lot to make the handoff.
It was only a three-hour drive from the coven house to the Silver Wives mansion in Vermont.
When she’d punched the address into the GPS in the dash, Ilex couldn’t help but gently remind her he’d already been to the mansion, leading the fairy band of warriors responsible for slaughtering the black coven.
“Are you certain that’s where we’ll find your vampire?”
Kerrigan shot him a nasty look. “Maksim. His name is Maksim, and no, I’m not sure he’s there. But it’s the last place I saw him, it’s where I left him, and none of the Fae, except for you, would have been able to get past the iron-strapped doors to the dungeon downstairs. So unless you’re about to tell me you went down there and didn’t see anything…?”
Ilex shifted in his seat, a dead giveaway of his discomfort, and Kerrigan’s brows shot clear up to her hairline.
“Several of the coven attempted to flee where they thought we couldn’t reach. I did go down into the heart of their evil, and I found many hideous creatures down there, but no vampires.”
“We’re still going,” Doyle stated firmly, glancing up into the rearview to meet Kerrigan’s stare. “If Maksim was there, Reece and I can sniff him out. If he’s not, at least it’s a place to start.”
Kerrigan hadn’t ever been so grateful for the loyalty of lions.
Two hours later, Doyle turned down the driveway and stopped only a hundred feet in. He folded his arms over the steering wheel and leaned forward, turning to look back at her.
“You sure this is the place? It looks like no one’s been here in a decade, at least.”
Kerrigan frowned, lifting her arm to wave at the road ahead. “What are you talking about? The gate is wide open.”
Reece shook his head, waving his fingers back and forth in front of him. “There are trees down, moss growing over everything. No way are we getting through in the truck.”
“I too see that the way is clear,” Ilex stated, looking rather perplexed. “Perhaps another witch has come to lay claim on the land? I feel magic that is not Fae.”
Kerrigan dismissed the idea with a hum. “It’s possible, but it’s more likely the state council concealed the location to keep out curious humans. It’s just visual; I can drive us through—”
“Fat chance. I’ve seen the way you drive, girly.” Doyle grunted, throwing the truck back into gear. “Tell me where to go.”
It was an expression of immense trust on Doyle’s part to blindly drive straight into what his eyes told him was a tangle of trees, but he did it—slowly—until they passed through the illusion to the other side.
The house stood like a castle amid a wintry landscape gone wild. They all got out when Doyle parked, a shiver working its way through her as the echo of violence, evil, and death settled on her like a blanket of snow.
“Damn,” Reece growled, waving his hand in front of his face as though he’d inhaled the most heinous stench known to man. “That is some stank!”
Ilex lifted his face to the wind. “I smell nothing but the winter air.”
