"Wait, the druids killed your beast? What does that mean?" I ask. "It's daytime, right now, and you're not— you haven't transformed again. Does that mean you're not Korrigan anymore?"
"I don't know," she says, her breath still hitching. "I've never heard of anyone killing a Korrigan's beast form. And if anyone ever did, they probably wouldn't have thought to look for a human inside it."
"We should put you somewhere safe tomorrow morning, just to be sure," I say. I'm still holding her.
She nods, her head moving against my shoulder. "The Korrigan house, where Aislinn used to change. There's a place there, right?"
"Yeah, we can use that one. But if you don't change, then— Wynnie, that would mean you're cured." I lean back to look at her.
Her eyes shine, and her smile makes her face totally different. Alive, happy.
"Wow," I say, without meaning to, because even streaked with beast grime, she's a stunner. Then I cover my real meaning. "Wow, that would change your life."
Mom returns with the glass of water. "Honey, you drink this, and then let's get you upstairs for a shower and some clothes. I think some of Ada's old things might fit you."
"Thank you." Unsteadily Wynnie stands, wrapped in her blanket, and Mom helps her mount the steps.
When their footsteps have faded, I lean back on the couch and stare at Aislinn. Even asleep, her face has a weary, pinched look. She's been through a lot lately, and she's gotten tougher, more muscular. She's still beautiful though, all sloping curves and those delicate features. I admire her, and I kinda miss her— but the sight of her doesn't cause me that fever of pain and want that it used to. And I realize that I'm over her. Finally.
From what I know about her magic, it's gonna take her hours to sleep this off. I look over at Kieran. He's always hella white, but I've never seen him so pale. He looks like he just about died. What did they have to do to get that beast open and pull Wynnie out? For the first time, I feel bummed that I wasn't there to help both of them. That's new for me— usually I'd wanna stay as far away from any of this as I can.
After half an hour or so, Wynnie comes back downstairs, dressed in Ada's old jeans and T-shirt. Wynnie's a lot shorter than Ada, so she has rolled up the cuffs of the jeans. She sits on the couch beside me, and she doesn't scoot all the way into the far corner like usual. And she seems okay with the two of us being the only conscious people in the room.
"How are they doing?" she asks.
"Aislinn's sleeping it off. Kieran— I dunno. Never seen him like this."
"You should call Ériu," she says.
"I don't have her number."
"It's in Kieran's phone."
"Right. Okay." I get up and turn Kieran sideways a bit so I can reach his back pocket. Sure enough, there's the phone. I can't unlock it though. Time to call Arden— she can hack in and get the number. And I should call her anyway, so she knows what's going on. Damn, I should have called her an hour ago.
When I call Arden, I make it sound like it all just happened, like they just got here, so she won't be pissed that I didn't let her know right away. Wynnie watches me while I'm on the phone, raising her eyebrows a couple times.
"I have Ériu's number," Arden says. "I'll call her myself."
When I end the call, Wynnie's still watching me. "What?" I say.
That little round mouth of hers curves at one corner. "You're scared of her."
"Nah. I just don't need two women mad at me right now."
"Your mother? She doesn't seem mad. She seems kind."
"She seems kind." I grin. "Nah, she's cool. She just has expectations, you know, and stuff she wants to be a certain way, and if you don't fit into that certain way, that's when the trouble starts."
She nods, puckering her lips and glancing around the room. "Nice house."
"Thanks. It's comfortable."
My eyes move back to Aislinn, and Wynnie follows my look.
"You still love her?" she asks.
"She's like family," I say. "Always will be, I guess. But I think I'm over the other part."
I don't mean to look into Wynnie's eyes when I say it. It kinda just happens. And there's something, like a current of electricity, that runs between us for a second, before she looks away and shuts it off.
"Wanna watch TV?" I ask.
"Please."
Arden shows up shortly after, but there's nothing she can do except chat awkwardly with my mother and wait. We watch TV for a couple hours, until Ériu comes to the house. A goddess of the Tuatha dé Danann, in my family's home. Damn that's cool.
By now, Kali has plunked herself down between Wynnie and me and is trying to figure out what's really going on. When Ériu comes down the basement steps, her mouth goes slack. "Is she a model?" she whispers to me. She's fourteen, very into the whole idea of modeling. She watches reruns of old Top Model shows nonstop.
"Kind of," I say. But I'm nervous, because Kali is about to find out just how not normal Ériu really is. "Hey kiddo, why don't you grab a snack for Wynnie? She's feelin' shaky, aren't you Wynnie?"
"Oh, um, yes," Wynnie says. "So, so hungry."
Kali sighs, slides off the couch, and goes upstairs.
Ériu kneels beside Kieran. "Little brother, what have you done to yourself this time?"
"He and Aislinn tore me from the belly of my dead beast," says Wynnie. "They saved my life."
"I think they both overused their magic," I say.
"You're right," says Ériu. As she passes her hands over Kieran, his chest glows faintly golden. "I'm glad you called me. I need to give him some of my energy, or he's going to die."
"I apologize that we've been calling you so much lately," Arden says. "For Wynnie's tongue, and the Far Darrig's finger, and now this. You keep having to make the journey down here; it must be an inconvenience for you."
Ériu smiles at her. "Honestly I have nothing better to do at the moment. I'm enjoying this, your little group here. I can see why Midir like being a part of it all."
"We don't call you just for the healing, you know," Arden says. "Your company is also an honor, and a pleasure."
"Thank you. Yours as well." Ériu turns back to Kieran and begins murmuring a spell. Suddenly her entire torso glows, golden and transparent with the brightness of the light in her chest. Tendrils of that light writhe down her arms, through her fingers, and into Kieran's body. His finger, which was mostly re-grown, is suddenly whole again, and the light in his chest ignites, glowing brighter.
And of course that's the moment when Kali comes back downstairs and sees the two of them, lit up like a couple of weird Christmas trees.
My little sister almost drops the bowl of grapes.
With an effort, Ériu wrenches her fingers free from Kieran's chest and slumps over. I jump up and help her onto the couch beside Wynnie. She's the one that looks pale now, though she's still conscious.
"I'll be fine," she says. "I'm older and stronger than he is. But it will take me a few weeks to recover from this, and I'll need someone to drive me home and look after me for a few days."
"I'll do it," says Arden. "It's the least we can do to repay you for all your help."
Kali speaks from her spot at the bottom of the steps, where she's still frozen in place. "Somebody needs to tell me what's going on."
I've explained this thing enough times. "Go ask Mom," I say. "Tell her what you saw, and she'll have to tell you the truth."
Kali sets the bowl of grapes in Wynnie's lap and vanishes back up the stairs. At the same time, Kieran sits up, looking panicked. "Aislinn!"
"She's here," I say, pointing. "She's okay."
"And Wynnie—" His eyes find her. "You're alive. I can't believe it."
"And it's daytime," she says. "I haven't transformed again."
They're looking at each other, connecting about what this could mean.
"You think— maybe it's over? The curse is broken?" Kieran asks.
She nods. "I guess we'll find out tomorrow morning."
&nb
sp; "We should put you in the dungeon at the Korrigan house, just in case," he says.
"Been over it, man," I tell him.
"This could be what I've been looking for. How did I not see it? It's so simple, almost cliché." He starts laughing. "Kill the monster, save the girl!"
Wynnie laughs, too, a sound full of hope and music. I've never heard her laugh.
"Everybody's so loud," groans Aislinn from the couch. "Shut up, all of you!"
It only makes us laugh louder— and that really wakes her up. Then she freaks out until she sees Kieran and Wynnie, safe and sound.
"Oh Zane," she says, after processing where she is. "I'm so sorry. Your mother—"
"You know, she took it pretty well," I say. "She's not pumped about it, though, so as soon as you guys feel up to leaving—"
"Say no more," says Arden. "Ériu, let's get you home."
"Wait." Kieran stands and wraps Ériu in a hug. I never pegged him as the hugging type, but he's got her in this tight grip, and there are tears in his eyes as he whispers something to her. I look away— seems like a personal moment. Then the Korrigan and the goddess are climbing the stairs, and gone.
"Zane, I'm so sorry to crash your weekend with your family," says Aislinn. "I just can't seem to leave you alone in the normal zone that you wanted. I'm sorry."
"Quit apologizin', girl. You needed help. It's all good, we cool."
She smiles, and for a second I think she might come over and give me a hug, too. Then Kieran says, "Where's my phone? We should call a driver, get the girls home."
I toss the phone over. "Sorry, man, I took it. I thought you might have Ériu's number. Turns out Arden did."
When the driver comes, I head for the steps at the same time Kieran does. After a second's hesitation, he gives me a big slap-on-the-back hug. "Thanks for everything, Zane."
"Sure, bro. Anytime," I say, before I can stop myself. "Two hugs in one afternoon? You're goin' soft, F.D."
He laughs, and as the girls follow him upstairs, I can't help grinning.
I guess, against all odds, we might have a shot at being friends.
21
LOVE
Aislinn
Kieran directs our driver to the country road by the field, where we left the Audi. Quickly I transport to the mess of entrails beside the dead beast and retrieve both my knives, wiping them off on my already stained clothes.
"I'm taking you girls to my place," Kieran says as we climb into his car. "The apartment isn't safe for you anymore."
"Okay. But we need to stop and get some things first."
When we arrive at the apartment, Wynnie refuses to go inside, so I pack for her and myself, and I change clothes quickly while Kieran waits with her in the car. I still feel a little shaky— I'll need more sleep before I can fully recover.
When I come back out with our bags, I notice that Wynnie is asleep. She's still sleeping half an hour later, when we reach Kieran's new condo. He carries her, I carry the luggage, and somehow we all make it up to the fifth floor and through the door.
The new condo isn't quite as modern and beautiful as his other downtown loft, but it has large windows and fancy molding. Besides the master bedroom and the huge bathroom, there's a gourmet kitchen and a comfortable living area with two soft, inviting couches.
"Just lay her on the couch," I whisper. He nods, placing Wynnie on one of the sofas. The two of us take turns cleaning up, and then we slip into the bedroom. He closes the door softly— and we're finally alone.
Kieran sits on the bed, and I lie down with my head in his lap.
"I thought you were going to die," I say, picking up his hand and kissing his fingers.
"Without Ériu, I would have."
"Why would you do that? Pour out so much of your energy?"
"You wanted me to save her."
"Kieran." I sit up. "You're more important to me than she is. How do you think I would feel if you died?"
"Homicidal."
I narrow my eyes at him. "I'm not kidding. Don't ever risk your life like that again."
"Don't tell me what to do." He's smiling, but I know he means it.
"Kieran, do you know of any way to boost my powers, and yours? We need to be able to use more at one time, to last longer."
"There are few relics that can do that," he says. "I'll have to see if we can track one down. It will be expensive, though."
"Could be worth it to save the world. Remember, I have money too."
"Not that kind of money, love."
I sigh. "Eventually I'm going to earn more of my own."
"You have plenty of time for anything you want to do," he says.
Do I?
"What if we can't do this?" I ask. "What if we can't stop it?"
He runs his fingers through my hair, working around a tangle or two. "Then that will be the end."
"I don't want it to be the end. We just started this whole love thing. It needs to last for like, five centuries at least."
He laughs. "You think you can put up with me for that long?"
"That's not even a question. The real question is, will you get tired of me?"
"Never." He kisses my head. "But realistically, you'll probably need a break from me after a while. Even another relationship or two, somewhere in the span of the centuries. I'll just have to try hard not to kill the guy before I win you back again."
I sit up so I can look into his eyes. "Is that what you think of me? You think I'll change, and leave you for someone else?"
"You might. But I'll be there waiting when you come to your senses."
"You think I'm just a child, don't you? An immature child who's going to change her mind on a whim and go pick up a new toy?"
"You're no child." He winks at me, but I'm not pacified.
"I'm not Gillian and Gemma, playing with men like that. When I give my word about something, I mean it."
"I know."
I still feel like he's not getting it, and I need him to understand how deep this goes, how important he is. "There's no one else for me. It's you, and that's it. Forever."
"Aislinn." He takes my hands in his. "I feel the same way, I do. But I also know that you're young, and you might meet someone you like better someday."
"That's what love is to you? A feeling that melts away if you find someone better?"
"Not for me." He's frowning now. "I'm trying to be unselfish here— apparently I'm not doing it right. I'm only trying to give you space to be young, so you don't tie yourself to me forever without realizing what you're doing."
"I may be young, but I know exactly what I'm doing," I say. "We're both going to change over years, decades— I know that. But loving you means that I'm with you, even when change happens, until you decide you don't want me anymore."
"How could I decide that? You're part of me, you're a piece of my soul. Like the air in my lungs, I need you to live." And he follows it up with a kiss so beautiful and tender that I'm convinced.
"That's how I feel about you, too," I whisper. "So don't talk about my leaving you. That's just not going to happen. Unless—"
"Unless Samhain."
"Yes." Tears form in my eyes; I can't help it. "There's just so much I want to do, and see. Places to visit, like the Caribbean, the Grand Canyon, California, Japan. Paris."
"If we live through this, I promise I will take you to all those places."
"Deal. But I'm paying for some of the travel. You're not my sugar daddy."
He stares, one eyebrow cocked, looking offended. "Sugar daddy?"
"Ew. Pretend I didn't say that. Also you're not, because sugar daddies give their girlfriends jewelry and stuff, and you haven't done that."
A strange expression crosses his face. "Well, I do have something for you— for both of us, actually. I wasn't sure when to give it to you, but—"
He pulls out the drawer in the nightstand and removes a small box. Inside are two shiny silver rings, each featuring a pair of hands holding a crowned heart. Celtic
shield knots are engraved along the bands.
"Fáinne Chladaigh— Claddagh rings," he says. "I had them custom-made, one for each of us. From titanium, the strongest metal. The heart represents love, the hands friendship, and the crown, loyalty."
"They're beautiful," I breathe.
"There are different ways to wear them, and the meaning hasn't changed much since they first came into use." He's moving restlessly, glancing at me every few seconds, acting nervous. He's never nervous, so I know that what he's telling me means a lot to him— carries some kind of special weight. "If the ring's on your right hand, heart facing out, with the point toward your fingertips—you're looking for love. Heart facing inward on the right hand, means someone has captured your heart."
Right now, I'd defy anyone to catch my heart, it's racing so fast.
"On the left hand ring finger, facing outward, you're promised to someone, betrothed or engaged. And when it's turned inward, that means a lifelong commitment."
"Like marriage."
"Yes, although Fae don't typically practice marriage like humans do. There used to be a handfasting ceremony, sometimes, but now—" He doesn't meet my eyes, just holds out the ring. "How would you like to wear it?"
I know exactly how. Especially given the conversation we just had, and how it felt like some kind of vow to each other.
But I'm new to this relationship thing, and I don't want to presume. "How do you want to wear yours?"
He's quiet, like he doesn't want to tell me. That's as unusual for him as the nerves are.
"I have an idea," I say. "I'll put mine on, and you do yours, and then we'll look at the same time."
I pick up the smaller of the two rings and turn away from him, trying to breathe normally and calm my heart the heck down.
And I put the ring on my left hand ring finger, with the heart facing inward.
A promise that I'm his, forever.
"Ready?" he says, his voice tense.
"Ready."
We turn to face each other, and he catches my hand and I'm seeking his— and there, on his newly re-grown left ring finger, is the heart, pointing inward toward his heart.
Samhain Page 20
