by Elle Lincoln
“Landon, how could you?” His cries pierce something inside me. That familial bond is broken and shattered with one small deed.
“It isn’t what you think, Logan.” Landon spits blood from his mouth, his brown eyes beseeching Logan’s.
I realize these two are brothers. Maybe twins, maybe not. I rub the ache in my chest. Fucking sympathy. They also look familiar, no, they feel familiar. Logan more so than Landon.
“How could you?” Logan cries again.
“You are going to trust her word over mine?” His question is directed at Killian who is moving slowly, each step purposeful. His jaw is clenched and the veins in his neck throb.
“What did you see?” He doesn’t look at me, but he breathes deeply, his nostrils flaring. Scenting the air perhaps?
“He exchanged money with a Fae. Shook hands.” I leave out the part about the female. Something tells me all is not what it seems here.
Killian breathes deeply. “Truth.”
Not creepy at all.
I’m being pulled back by Mac and his nose tickles my ears, but something sets me off. “We aren’t alone anymore.”
I turn and realize Casseus is gone. Balor and Patrick stand behind us with their backs turned, watching the road we just came from.
Landon cries. “You don’t understand.” I turn.
So do the other wolves. They all watch the tree line. The quiet. The calm before the storm.
Killian is the first to speak. “Landon, what have you done?”
Chapter 8
Bette
Surrounded
My heart drops into my stomach and every vein lights up with adrenaline. A hard, unforgiving rhythm pulses in my ears. My head swims with adrenaline, causing me to feel light. I knew what was about to happen, and yet watching it play out leaves the sour taste of my last encounter with the Fae in my mouth. Even my throat jumps in on the action, thickening with emotion.
A buzzing thrums in my ears and tears bead behind my eyes.
What fresh hell is this? I’m all emotional, like a hormonal teen, and I hated being a teen for this very reason. I don’t like this feeling. In fact, I despise it. It makes me feel weak and out of control.
My breathing becomes erratic and I bend over at the waist.
“Bette, what’s happening?” Mac is beside me, his hands on my hips. One begins soothing circles at the base of my spine. Easing me.
“No idea. Not a fan though.”
“She’s havin’ a panic attack.” Patrick kneels before me just as the wolves begin to growl, setting me off all over again. The moisture leaves my tongue and my jaw aches. “Focus on me, little one.”
I can’t, because while all hell is breaking loose around me, everything is coming apart inside of me.
“What is happening?”
His words sound mumbled as he speaks to the guys. I’m staring at the ground while my vision blurs. There’s a helium balloon inside my head and someone is pumping that fucker up. I go to look beside me as Casseus swoops in and Balor draws an ax.
It’s happening. They are here. Oh shit. Am I breathing? I don’t think so.
Patrick is talking. His lips move but I can’t hear him. My nose is watering and I think I’m hyperventilating. “Bette, focus on me. Ah, there ye are, look at me.”
I do as he bids. His hazel eyes bleed warmth and understanding, even if I don’t know exactly what’s going on just yet. “Breathe with me.” He places one of his hands on my chest then, with the other, he grips my hand and places it on his chest.
I put all of my focus on him, on feeling the heat of his skin trickle into my hand. On the rhythm of his chest as he breathes. On his eyes, as they look into mine. He is all I can focus on. The sounds around me fade away until it is just the two of us in that grove.
“That’s my girl. Feel me breathe. Take all that emotion and throw it aside, just feel me.” My nose wrinkles and my eyes leak, his kindness is everything I need at that moment to survive.
A few more deep breathes and I feel somewhat normal. “What happened?”
“I think your last encounter left more of an impression than any of us thought.” His hand cups my face and I take a moment to turn into him, inhaling his spice. I lean in and kiss him, gently, before pulling away and leaving a promise for more. He leans back in, his nose swiping mine in an Eskimo kiss. It’s perfect and my heart swells.
Freaking leprechaun broke through all my walls at that moment. I break eye contact to observe the chaos surrounding us. Balor, Casseus, and Mac have formed a circle around us, keeping us safe as they fight off the Fae that break past the wolves. Again, my jaw aches as this feeling of protection rushes through me.
For a moment my brain stalls. Here I am, breaking down, and there they are keeping us safe so I don’t have to shelve it for later, so that I may take my time and be okay. More tears fall and I struggle for composure, because right now I’m going to have to shelve that emotion and deal with the present. They’ve fought long enough without us.
I stand, not even knowing when I fell to my knees, and turn to Casseus. I need his attention and I’m not sure how to get it without being cleaved in half by his ax.
“You have my attention, Bette.” I smile, wondering when they are going to let me in on that link. Considering I created it, I should be able to access it. Definitely a project for later.
“Why are you using an ax? Call the Sluagh.” I go to reach out to them.
“Don’t.” I stop at the alarm in his voice. “Last time they imprisoned them, with only a few escaping. We can’t risk us losing our only power.”
He’s completely right, and I have no idea how to absolve the issue. I worry my lip. Without the ability to call the Sluagh I’m defenseless. I have no fancy superpower. No weapon to wield. Not to mention I don’t believe I’ve ever thrown a punch in my life.
But then again, as I look around, I realize the myth that is rather evident before me. The wolves, while stronger than any man I’ve ever seen, don’t carry impossible strength. Mac, a freaking god, has yet to do anything to define his godly status. Sure, we aren’t near the ocean, but even so he isn’t much more than human. Casseus, lean and tall, struggles to decapitate a Fae with the ax. While Patrick, leprechaun, shorter with more brawn, swings it like a wooden spoon. Except, even so, his strength matches the rest of the supernatural myths before me.
All except for Balor. His body grows in size and his shirt rips as he charges a line of Fae without thought. He pushes off the earth, leaving an indent in his path, and his ax swings about his head as he takes down two Fae at once.
I’d be lying if I didn’t find it insanely sexy. Still, I’m going to have to figure out how to swing an ax if I can’t call the Sluagh.
“Halt!” a familiar voice calls above the crowd, sinking into my bones and making my eye twitch. I swing my head toward the melodic tone.
There he is. The one who not only tried to kidnap me, but who internally decapitated me. I ball my fists and I fight against the wave of dread that threatens to take me to my knees.
“Halt,” he repeats a bit quieter, his voice falling above the crowd like a weighted blanket. Some of the wolves whine while others snap and snarl. I understand that feeling all too well. But his power over everyone concerns me. We all stop and listen to that tone, because it speaks of restitution for all we have lost, a promise that he would never keep. Instead, I take it for a warning that he holds power here.
“I’d advise you not to take another step.” Balor’s voice is calm but deadly, his body moving not to shield me, but to stand beside me. My feelings for him grow with that small act. He knows I’m damn near worthless, but the action speaks volumes to all who stand before us. He sees us as equals. Even when I am clearly not.
The Fae stops holding his hands up in surrender. I grind my teeth at his beauty and it takes everything in me to swallow my need to feed on his sin. His platinum blond hair shimmers in the light, far too pretty for a guy. His features are even more symmet
rical and handsome in the daylight. I hate him for it, I hate that he looks so attractive.
“How did you survive?” Patrick all but growls.
Confusion pierces me and the look on the Fae’s face is full of disgust and possible loathing. “Oh. Let me introduce myself.” He places a hand on his chest before smiling with a sneer. “I’m Prince Ryoden.”
Yeah, that means nothing to me, and I roll my eyes.
But it does mean something to some as whispers flood the crowd. Some back away and flee. Which pisses me off. I place my hands on my hips, my earlier panic dissolving into annoyance over this pompous ass.
“Ah, yes. Prince Ryoden, son of the Seelie king.” Mac’s voice cuts me off before I can say anything more. He leans into me, and whispers, “Harder to kill.”
Yes, but that doesn’t mean he cannot die. Even the deathless can be taken out for centuries. Just ask Balor.
“I’m here to make a trade.” My cheeks puff out in annoyance with his cocky smile.
“We’ve nothing to trade you,” Patrick answers. I look over at him, watching his lips purse then relax over and over. It takes me a moment to realize he is struggling not to call the forgotten. He must feel naked without his back up.
Prince Ryoden pulls out a stone, but not just any stone. It looks like quartz, with that gleam when the sun hits it just right. But inside, oh god, inside it’s smoky. The swirls vibrate and darken. And I can feel them.
The Sluagh. Trapped within that damn stone. I clench my teeth so hard I fear they will crack and I reach out and grasp Casseus’ hand in comfort. I can feel the tension humming through him. His body is on high alert and ready to fight this prince.
“I see you recognize what I hold here. Tell me, what would you do to have it back?” How the hell did he get them in there?
Anything.
I don’t speak the word, though, because I know this can only go one way. Bad.
“Tell me, what would you do?” He brings the stone up, examining it with mirth in his eyes.
I refuse to answer because this can only be a trap. One set up by a lone wolf. Who I suspect is desperate to keep his ladylove.
“Would you trade the wolves for this?”
His words are met with outrage, snarls, and growls. Killian marches up to stand beside me. Why they think I hold the power here is beyond me. I don’t. Right now I’m nothing more than a glorified human.
“Bette,” Killian whispers. “You know this is a trap.”
I grunt. That’s hella obvious and I can’t even send out my senses to confirm we are surrounded. It’s the move I would have made, and since these Fae are already two steps ahead of us at all times, I have no doubt we are surrounded and then some. Booby traps or some shit.
“Tell me, fair prince.” That was diplomatic right? “How am I to give you something I don’t own?”
He takes a daring step toward me, his hand dropping to his sides. I follow the movement before chastising myself to pay attention to his face.
“Don’t you?” His smile is secretive, almost seductive, and I loathe it. “I believe you freed our wolves. You are, by all laws, their owner.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose, trying to think through my anger. I don’t own the wolves. Not now and not ever. I freed them, yes, but that means nothing to me in terms of ownership. They are their own race, with their own leaders. I shake off my anger and take a deep breath. It doesn’t help. At all. “No,” I grind out, before clenching my jaw and saying something to get us all killed.
“But you do.” He sighs a bit too dramatic for my liking. “That is the way of our kind.”
Except, I’m not.
I flinch as a buzzing startles me and I stare in wide-eyed wonder as a blade pierces the prince’s throat.
“Long-winded fucker.” Patrick strolls past me and picks up the stone before anyone can register what happened. “Come on, hop in the truck, we don’t have all freaking day.”
“Patrick, you are going to get us all killed one day.” Mac shakes his head.
“Logan, go with them,” Killian orders beside me, while everyone rushes into motion.
“Sir—” Logan begins.
“No, go. Consider this your brother’s due debt.” Killian dismisses him before looking at me. “Run. We will hold the others off.”
Don’t have to tell me twice. I turn and head straight for the truck, and hop in the back seat. The world outside moves in fast-forward, and I feel a small inkling of regret at running, like a coward. But we can’t seem to get ahead of them or understand their reasoning. The trunk bed dips and I see a naked Logan sitting in the back with Mac, who is pointedly ignoring him.
I feel bad, again, for messing up someone’s life. But as the other guys pile in and we tear away in a cloud of dust, I’m also thankful because we do need their help. By not giving up the wolves, we have gained an ally. I just hope it is worth it in the end.
Even if I know this is just the beginning. But of what?
Patrick leans back over the passenger seat with Balor driving once again. I know how bad the situation is if he’s driving. I buckle up and look over to see him handing me the stone. Stretching out my hands and flexing them I hesitate, unsure. Fear pierces my gut that this isn’t really them. Though I already know the answer.
But the moment my hand grips the stone, my entire soul feels whole. Casseus’ hand envelops mine and tears once again spring into my eyes. Who the hell is this weepy bitch?
“How do we free them?” Speaking past the lump in my throat is difficult. It’s dry and scratchy and my heart aches.
“I don’t know, Bette.”
It’s all the time we have before Balor is yelling out, “Hold on!”
I grip the seat belt like my life depends on it. I close my eyes against the thud of the truck hitting people. Bile seeps into my throat. No matter who you are, the sound of someone hitting a vehicle is horrible. The thud and splat onto the ground will stick with me for a while. Or least until I remind myself these assholes keep trying to kill us.
I open my eyes to check on Mac and Logan. They are both holding on for dear life as Balor takes turns like a maniac. But when he avoids hitting trees and only hits Fae, I ease back a little. Not that one is really better than the other. Okay, it is.
Balor takes a curve and the wheels bounce onto a normal paved road. Again, my ass feels the springs in the seat. The truck sways and the tires squeal.
Quiet descends over all of us as the road evens out and nothing can be heard except the purring engine.
“I guess we aren’t going back to the cabin?” I sigh at losing yet another set of clothing that I just acquired, but I know it’s safer.
“No.” Patrick is thoughtful as he peers briefly back at me. He turns back to the front before rolling his window down and releasing a set of whistles. The poor guys missed a meal.
I can definitely relate to that. In due time, I’m sure.
“Where to?” I don’t suppose Morrigan left any notes.
“North for now. Balor, head toward the Blue Ridge Parkway,” Casseus instructs.
“Why?” Nerves flutter through my body at the thought of passing through my hometown.
“I did some research, a man went missing along the parkway a few months ago.” Casseus looks over at me, his smile tense, and seeing right through my defenses. “If you want, we can go elsewhere, but it’s the closest region and we can find shelter at a campground.”
He’s right, I know he’s right and yet, I thought I was leaving all of that behind me. To start a new life.
“Did any of you check to see if my grandma was still alive?” I’m going to regret this. So hard. I can already taste the regret on my tongue like a sour lemon.
“No,” Cas answers as Patrick turns in the seat. I can even feel Balor glance at me from the rear.
“Woman is crazy as a goat, but I guarantee you she is still alive.” I cough, feeling uncomfortable. “We can go there for now. Until we move on.”
“
Are you sure?” I like him a little more for asking that.
“No, I’m not sure. She thinks I’m dead.” I worry my lip. “Am I still dead?”
“Ye look alive to me.” Patrick chuckles a little, easing the tension from my shoulders, but butterflies take flight in my stomach at the thought of seeing her once again.
“She’s good people,” I whisper, but they hear me. I feel they will always hear me, even when I don’t want them to. “Smokes like a chimney though.”
“Does she drink?” I should have known Patrick would ask that.
“Like an Italian alcoholic.” I smile, despite my worry that I’m about to put her in danger. Because that is exactly what I’m going to do.
I may have made some fucked-up choices as an adult, but I can’t blame that on my childhood. In fact, I had an amazing childhood. These guys are about to find that out. I only hope they don’t question too deeply about what happened after.
Chapter 9
Bette
To Grandmothers House, We Go
We pull up to my grandmother’s house a few hours later. The sun’s just beginning its decent in the sky in an orange array of mystical rays. It was serendipitous, pulling up to my childhood home with such a welcoming background. I could only hope she welcomed me with open arms.
“Is this it?” Balor questions, as I direct him toward a paved entrance. Trees loom over the meticulously cut drive, a stone mailbox sits alone at the bottom, and only one house lives at the end of this drive.
“Yeah.” My voice croaks and Casseus grasps my hand. I can’t look at him, hell, I can’t even look at my reflection in the truck’s window. My stomach flares with nerves and adrenaline rushes through me as Balor slows just as the beautiful home breaches the line of trees.
Patrick sputters on his words as the truck rolls to a stop. “This?”
Yeah, I know what he sees. The gorgeous cabin sits on the side of a mountain. Stone in a range of colors dots the base. My fingertips remember their feel, their smooth surface like river rock, with one lone one at the base where I’d carved my name. The wooden wrap around porch leads you to the back where you can watch the sun set below the valley. I close my eyes and I can almost see the bleeding of warm tones highlighting the tree canopy.
