He pulls me right into his lap, and we seal it with a kiss.
Then I'm laughing, and so is he. "You're as crazy as I am," he whispers.
"No way. Nobody's as crazy as you."
"Or as happy."
His hands are warm at my back, pressing me close, and my body is curved into his, and everywhere we touch it's thrills and fire. I dip my head till our lips almost touch, and I swipe the tip of my tongue across his lips for a second. He captures my mouth with his, roughly, passionately, a kiss that demands all of me and more. I'm sliding my hands under his shirt, along those beautiful muscles of his, tugging at the material because it's in my way. He takes a second to pull the shirt off, and I do the same with mine. And we look at each other, just taking everything in, because we can.
There's a question in his eyes, a kind of "are we doing this?" look.
"Please," I say.
He slips his hand behind my neck and looks at me, those beautiful silver eyes of his hot with desire, but with a touch of concern in them, too. "Are you sure about this?"
He loves me. He would wait if I asked him to.
But I won't ask him to wait, because this, right now, is more than pleasure. This moment means something bigger, for both of us. Something epic, immortal. A bond that neither of us will break.
"I'm sure. Are you?"
"I've never wanted anything more."
"Then what are you waiting for?" I whisper in his ear.
"I'll be gentle," he whispers back, and my heart thumps harder, faster, as the space closes between us.
◆◆◆
I wake up in Kieran's bed about an hour before dawn. Even though I'm still tired, I feel different, special, refreshed.
I feel loved.
He's awake already, hair damp from the shower, pulling on a pair of jeans. He comes over to me, and I cover my mouth so he can't kiss it. "I probably have bad breath," I say.
"I don't care," he says, but to please me, he kisses my cheek instead.
"Muirnīn," he whispers. "My darling."
I stroke his cheek and run my fingers along his neck and shoulder. "Have you checked on Wynnie?"
"She's fine. Nervous, though. We need to get her to the dungeon at the Korrigan house before sunrise. Do you have the energy to transport?"
Mentally I check my energy levels. "I think so. I feel good— amazing, actually." I blush as he grins.
"So do I. I wish we had more time this morning."
"Heck yes," I whisper, stepping out of the bed into his arms. But we don't have time for anything but a quick hug, so I force myself to gather what I need and head for the shower.
When all three of us are ready, I transport us twice, once to a halfway point within my radius, and then again to the Korrigan house. Keeping both of them with me is harder than I expected, and I gasp and stumble when we finally get to the basement of my old home.
"Aislinn?" Kieran catches me.
"Too much magic, too little sleep last night," I say, sitting down on one of the oversized poufs and leaning over, trying to breathe slower and deeper.
"That's my fault, I'm sorry. It was too much, last night; we should have waited."
"No! It was perfect."
Wynnie stands there, staring at us like we're crazy. "If you two are done, someone needs to show me the dungeon."
I stand, shakily, and open the panel in the wall. The code is the same as ever, and in seconds the trapdoor is open, the metal ladder unfolding down into the huge concrete chamber below. I snap on the lights.
"I'm sorry about this," I tell her. "We just have to be sure."
"I understand." She stands at the edge of the hole, taking deep breaths. I wait, exchanging a glance with Kieran.
When she still doesn't climb down, I say, "How about I come down with you? I can transport out if you start to change."
"Thank you," says Wynnie. "I don't think I can go down there alone."
"I'll go first." Drawing in a deep breath of my own, I start climbing down the ladder. Panic rises in my chest, choking off my breath. It's all right, you're not going to change. You're helping Wynnie. Be strong for her. You'll be okay.
I coach myself down, and she follows me, slowly.
Finally we reach the bottom, and Kieran retracts the ladder. As he leans over the open trap door, he looks small and distant, like something far beyond my reach.
Wynnie is shaking. Her whole body trembles with shiver after shiver, and her eyes dilate with fear.
"Hey, hey. It's all right." I put both arms around her. "We'll just wait, and see what happens. If you're still Korrigan, we'll just get you some more Life-Stream, okay? We'll deal with it."
"Five minutes to sunrise," calls Kieran.
Wynnie is in full-blown panic attack mode now— she's sweating, breathing so fast I'm afraid she's going to hyperventilate. I hold her tighter. "Shh, shh." Softly I start to sing to her, an old Beatles song I've always loved, "Golden Slumbers." I heard it once on TV when I was little, and I used to sing it sometimes at night, when everyone else was asleep and I felt scared by myself. It reminds me of warmth, and love, and family, and safety. I'm half-crying as I sing it to her, because she's so scared, and I understand a little of how she feels.
After I've sung the song a couple of times, Kieran calls down to us again. "Sunrise," he says. "Let's give it another ten minutes just to be sure."
Music seems to help Wynnie calm down, so I pick another Beatles song, and another.
"The sun is definitely up!" calls Kieran. He sounds thrilled, excited. "Wynnie, the curse is broken! You're free."
"Going outside, Kieran," I call back to him, and I transport Wynnie and me to the front lawn. The sky is dark blue in the west and pale blue in the east, shot with ribbons of pink and gold clouds. It's clear and cold, but because it's the South, there are still birds in the trees, their little throats rippling with song.
Kieran walks out of the house, carrying two blankets. "Here." He drapes one over Wynnie's shoulders and wraps another around me.
Then he bends down and looks Wynnie straight in the eyes. "I am sorry that you were ever mixed up with this curse. I'm sorry I created it. I've caused you pain. Please forgive me."
How could any girl say no to him? Those eyes of his.
"I forgive you," she says. "But you're not the one who has caused me the most pain. And I place on you this burden, to make those responsible pay for their sins. Some of them already have— but I need you to finish the rest of them."
He smiles, not a friendly or kind smile this time— a terrible smile. A smile born from generations of conceiving dark thoughts and carrying them out. "I gladly accept the task."
He straightens and holds out his hand to me, and when he looks at me there's a challenge in his eyes. "Now, sweetheart, we have a war to plan."
I'm ready.
But first, I call Arden, because she'll be eager to know if the curse is broken. When she hears the news, she actually squeals.
"How soon can we do it to me?" she asks.
"Arden, you understand that we'll have to strip your Life-Stream somehow, and kill your demon. We have no idea how to get rid of your Life-Stream."
"You'll figure it out," she says, in a sharp tone that reminds me of Maeve for a second. "Let's catch a druid, make him tell us how."
"We might be able to get our hands on one during Samhain," I say. "You help us get through Samhain first, and then we'll make sure we break your curse."
"You're making a bargain? With me? The Far Darrig is teaching you well." She sighs. "I agree. After Samhain."
"Are you and Ériu all right?" I ask. "How's she doing?"
"She's weak," says Arden. "I have to help her with everything, but I consider it a privilege to be the companion of a goddess. She's— incredible. And Aislinn, you should see the house. It's on the side of the mountain— huge. Such views. I love it here."
"You two have fun," I say. "See you soon."
I end the call; but something Arden said is bother
ing me. Her words "companion of a goddess" keep ringing through my mind, because they sound somehow familiar. Companion of a goddess.
Blood of the goddess.
"Kieran!"
My sharp tone draws his attention immediately. "What?"
"Blood of the goddess," I say. "What does that mean?"
"The goddess Aima created the world," he says. "I assume it means her blood."
"But she's not actually alive, or here, or whatever," I say. "So it would have to be someone else's blood. Remember the druids were going to sacrifice you for Samhain— what if the curse requires blood from one of the Tuatha dé Danann, the god-race?"
"Some have said that our kind were descended from the gods who made the worlds," he says. "Of course others say that we came from a different world altogether. It's impossible to know."
"But suppose the Tuatha dé Danann are actually descended from Aima," I say, and I'm talking fast because I can feel what I'm saying is true, and I need him to believe it. "The druids would need blood, from someone of that race. So they'll be coming after you again, or someone like you. Someone like Ériu."
Alarm flashes into his eyes. "She's weak right now."
"Do you think they know about her? Where she lives?"
"She's been there for decades. I know several Fae who've been to see her for healing; she's well-loved, and has no enemies."
"Except a pack of druids who only have one goal in mind." I'm calling Arden again even as I finish the thought. She doesn't pick up.
"You have Ériu's number," I tell Kieran, and he calls her.
"Ériu? Deirfiúr, we believe you may be in danger." I smile because he called her "sister."
He paces as he explains the situation to her. By the frustrated frown on his face, she's not taking the warning seriously. "No, I'm not overreacting. Ériu, these humans, these druids— they are ruthless and cruel. They killed three of the Korrigan, and you know they're planning to wreck the world. You still have your bodyguards, yes? Add a few more to the team, I'm begging you. Yes. Please. Have Arden change your security codes and set up extra cameras— put some wards on the walls. Whatever needs to be done. You're weak— don't take risks."
When he gets off the phone, he picks up a rock from the flowerbed and throws it as hard as he can, yelling a word in Gaelic that sounds like a curse. The rock strikes a tree, gouging its bark.
He strides toward me, his face tense. "She's not taking it seriously," he says. "That's her weakness— she never believes the worst of people. That's why she's been my friend for so long; she never really believed all the terrible stories about me. We have to go to her."
"Arden will take it seriously," I assure him. "She'll make Ériu hire the extra guys and get the cameras."
"I have to go and make sure she's all right," he says.
I grab his arm. "Kieran. We'll keep calling, checking on them. I'll have Arden send me a photo of the house, and if anything happens, we can be there within half an hour. But we have to keep working and planning, or none of us are going to make it out of this alive."
He's looking down at me, angry, but I'm not backing down. I'm worried about them, too, but we can't go up there and guard them. We have to rally our Fae allies. We have to finish our plan, make sure that we've thought of everything. And I need him for this.
"Stay with me," I say.
"You're asking me to leave a friend in danger."
"I'm asking you to look at the work we need to do here," I say. "I can't do all of this alone." I may be smart, and strong, but I'm young. I won't be able to think of all the loopholes and cause-effect sequences by myself. We have to work together.
Looking into his eyes, I see that he knows I'm right. He's relaxing, resigning himself to the reality of it.
"I'll stay, love," he says. "Let's not do our planning here, though. I hate this house."
We hold our big strategy session at Kieran's condo. Our team includes Lydia's husband George— he's a business analyst, and his perspective is helpful. A selkie who was once on a special ops team joins us. Tom and Eric are there, too, and Arden with her laptop, several browser tabs open to different military planning resources. There's Wynnie, with her knowledge of the druids and how they work. And we have the information Zane gave us, his vision of what the moments before the battle might look like.
For hours we ponder and plan, and strategize. Kieran and I sketch the layout of the cave interior, and we lay out topographical maps of the mountain and the surrounding forest.
Our biggest problem is still the timeframe— how to keep a small army of Druids and dark Fae from completing the ritual within the span of those twelve hours, from dusk on October 31 until dawn on November 1.
"At least you don't have to protect the Gate for the full twenty-four hours of Samhain," Wynnie points out. "That would be impossible, and probably end in everyone dying."
"True," says Kieran, nodding to her; but I see the worry in his face. He's not sure we'll be able to last the whole night.
There are other logistical problems— transportation to Bluerock Mountain for our allies. Food. Water. Weapons.
"What if they have guns?" I ask. "Malcolm likes using guns."
"I doubt they'll have guns for this," says George. "They're working with the dullahan and the fenodyree, and neither of those races will use guns. Plus, the sound of gunfire would echo through the mountains and the humans would definitely come to investigate. And none of the Fae, on our side or theirs, want that to happen."
"Once, during the Civil War, I saw a group of druids work spells that rendered human firearms useless," says Kieran. "So even if we brought them, they could turn out to simply be dead weight."
The others agree, and after discussing all the practicalities of getting everyone to the mountain, we move into the most important part of the discussion.
Our plan of attack.
21
FAITH
Zane
When someone taps on my dorm room door, I'm hoping it's Laurel.
A visit from her would be dope, after the week I've had. More nightmares, visions of blood and death. Constant texts and emails from Aislinn and the others, all about battle plans and strategies. Aislinn has told me again and again that I shouldn't be there for the big fight, but I want to stay in the loop, at least until I decide what I'm going to do. And I got to decide quick, because tomorrow is October 31.
Combine that stress with classes, homework, lab time, projects— I've had a hell of a lot going on. "Come in," I say, tossing my textbook on the pillow.
Into the room walks Malcolm.
Neat khakis, dress shirt, glasses, thin comb-over. Probably a gun tucked in the back of his pants. For sure a ward under that collar, and scars under his shirt sleeves, where he's cut himself for rituals.
I'm standing in a flash, ready to land a punch.
"Down, boy," he says in that quiet, mild voice of his. "This is a professional visit, not an attack. I have a proposition of mutual benefit."
"I got one too— shut the hell up and get out."
"Your generation— so rude." He seats himself on my roommate's bed.
"How'd you find me?"
"I've had your photo for a while. And your dorm isn't protected from pixies, so it didn't take Rimmle long to locate you. I figured it would be easier to find you and speak to you. Your friends would try to start a fight, if I contacted them directly. I'm hoping you'll be more reasonable."
"Talk fast."
"We've taken the liberty of collecting two of your Fae friends— Ériu, of the Tuatha dé Danann, and the Korrigan Arden. They're our guests for the moment."
Oh crap.
Aislinn must not know about this, or she'd have told me. "When did you take them?"
"Last night. Now Ériu isn't part of this deal I'm offering, because we need her for the ritual. But there's no need for Aislinn's surrogate mother to die, is there?"
"What do you want?" I ask, even though I think I already know.
"I'm
going to assume you've hidden the Heart of the Earth somewhere we'll never find it," says Malcolm. "At least, we wouldn't find it without a lot of unpleasant kidnappings and torture sessions that none of us have time for. So I'll make you a deal. Bring the Heart of the Earth to Bluerock Mountain at sunset on October 31 and deliver it to us, and you'll get the Korrigan Arden in exchange."
"Aislinn won't agree to that. Giving you the stone, letting you wreck the world, just to save Arden?"
"Oh, I think she will. And you'd better hope she does agree, or we'll have to raise the stakes." He hands me a card. "Have her text me at this number."
He rises, just as my roommate comes in. "Oh hello. I'm Zane's guidance counselor." Malcolm holds out his hand.
"Yeah, yeah, okay," says my roommate. "Good to meet you."
"I'll see you later, Zane," Malcolm says. "Be sure to pass along the information I gave you, won't you?"
"I'll get the message to the right people," I say between my teeth.
"Good boy."
The door closes behind him. I wait a few minutes, till I'm sure he's gone, and then I dash outside to the plaza to call Aislinn.
She and Kieran show up not five minutes after I make the call. They make me repeat every word of the conversation verbatim, a couple of times.
"I knew this would happen!" Kieran strides back and forth, angrier than I've ever seen him. "You told me not to go up there!" he says to Aislinn.
"We had important work to do," she says. "Don't you think I'm upset about this too? We warned them— maybe Ériu should have taken the danger more seriously, hired more security."
Kieran whirls on her. "Don't. This isn't her fault."
"It's the druids' fault!" Aislinn says. She's almost shouting at him. "Stop taking it out on me. We need to calm down and make a plan!"
"Guys, keep the voices down!" I say. "This is a college campus, okay?"
They're a foot apart, breathing hard and staring each other down. I'm not sure if they're going to kiss or start throwing spells. The air feels electrified, and suddenly the amulet on my chest buzzes violently and glows. The light attracts their attention.
Samhain Page 21
