"I know what you mean."
She hesitates. "Z, I— "
I grab her and pull her to me, and I kiss her. She kisses me back, and we're holding on to each other like it's life or death, locked together, and I never want to let go. But I touch the wrong spot on her back, and she lets out a cry of pain.
"Sorry," I say. "Hey, did you get any medical help?"
"No. I was busy."
"Let me see." She turns, and I see a bloody slit in her shirt where a blade sliced her back. "Come on, there's some supplies over here. I'll patch you up."
I can't do much for her beyond a basic bandage. When I'm nearly done, Kieran walks over to us, kind of unsteady.
"You two heading out?" he asks.
"In a sec."
"Zane, do you think— " He looks frustrated. "Do you think you could manage to carry Aislinn for me? I don't think I have the strength."
He must be about to fall over if he's asking me to carry his girlfriend. "Sure, man, I got it. You might have to help Arden, though."
He nods. "I wish Ainmire had made it through."
"I know, man. I'm sorry."
"I don't look forward to telling his mate. She's likely to take off my head, literally."
"So don't tell her. She'll figure it out when he doesn't come back."
"I'll tell her in person, and then have Aislinn transport me far, far away," he says, with the ghost of a smile.
"You were fighting outside the whole time?" Laurel asks him.
"Yes. The fenodyree and the dullahan were the strongest, and the toughest to beat. I used spells I haven't worked in centuries. It was— carnage."
When I was outside, digging graves, I saw the blood. Everywhere. Magical scorch marks. Chunks of Fae, chopped up by dullahan axes. Crushed bodies under boulders thrown by the fenodyree. Some of those pinned corpses we couldn't even get out; we just had to leave them there. Carnage is a good word for it.
"Why did they have banshees on their side?" Laurel asks. "I thought Aislinn said the banshees were connected to Badb. They should have been on our team."
"The banshees each had a choice to make, like all the Fae," says Kieran. "Their connection to Badb only serves to warn of upcoming deaths; it doesn't bind them to her will."
"Listen, we gotta go," I say. "Laurel and I got healing to do, and classes to sit through tomorrow."
We're a sad bunch of beat-up, slow-moving post-battle warriors, stumbling through the forest on our way back to the cars. Two of the pixies, Eric and Tom, guide us back. Tom is missing three fingers, and Eric's back has a massive burn from a pooka. I carry Aislinn, and Kieran and Laurel take turns helping Arden. The Korrigan is a hollow, burned-out version of herself, a shadow with empty eyes.
Near us walks another pixie, a blond woman maybe in her forties. She's dragging her leg, which looks mangled. Hopefully she's headed for a hospital; she's going to need major medical help if she's going to walk normally again, let alone dance. She has the same vacant, agonized expression as Arden, like she lost a piece of herself and she's going to be looking for it till the day she dies.
When we get to the cars, I help Kieran settle Arden and Aislinn into the back of the Audi.
"You okay to drive?" I ask Kieran. He reaches into the glove compartment and pulls out two energy drinks, tossing one to me. "A magic potion of the modern world. Cheers."
"Thanks, man. See you back at the apartment."
Even with the drink, I have trouble staying alert on the way back. Laurel takes a shift driving, though, so we make it. Good thing, because it would be dumb to die in a car wreck after surviving a Fae-druid battle like we did.
I drop Laurel off first and then head to the girls' apartment. Kieran will need my help getting them settled.
When Wynnie opens the door for the four of us, a look of pure joy and relief floods over her face. She must have been terrified, waiting here alone. "You're all alive!"
"Not all," I say. "Ériu didn't make it."
The light drains from her face. She and Ériu were friends, especially after the whole tongue-healing thing. "Oh, no. Oh, Arden— Kieran— I'm so sorry."
She takes Arden's arm across her shoulders and helps her into the bedroom.
Following Kieran into Aislinn's room, I lay her on the bed. He collapses beside her, taking her limp hand in his and closing his eyes. They have matching rings now, Celtic-looking bands on their left-hand ring fingers. Like wedding bands or something.
There's just a faint twinge in my heart, when I see the two of them lying there. Mostly I'm just glad they're both okay. They're together, and it feels right.
I close the door and walk back to the living room, just as Wynnie comes from the opposite end of the apartment, closing Arden's door.
"She resting?" I ask.
"Yes."
"Can I clean up here before I head back to school? I don't want my roommate asking too many questions about the blood."
"Yes. But we don't have any clothes here for you to change into."
"It's okay, I got a change of clothes in my car. Figured I might need it. I'll go get 'em." I move past her, toward the door, and she touches my arm.
"Zane, I'm glad you're all right."
I look down at her. "Thanks. Must have been hard for you, waiting."
"I wish I could have helped. I'm just not ready."
"You been through enough, girl," I say. "Trust me, we all wanted you here, safe."
She hesitates, looking kinda grateful and kinda upset. Then she stands on tiptoe and kisses me lightly on the lips, and then runs back into Arden's room and shuts the door.
What the hell?
I need to go into battle and almost die more often. Apparently it's a turn-on for girls.
Suddenly it registers in my brain that they're both into me. Laurel, and Wynnie.
Oh crap.
26
PARIS
Aislinn
"Get the rope around its neck!" I scream at Kieran. I'm holding Arden's beast against the dungeon floor with all my fenodyree strength; Kieran's binding spell didn't slow it down much, and it's about to break free.
Quickly, Kieran and Zane loop the thick length of rope around the demon's throat twice, and they start pulling with all their strength in opposite directions, choking it. But I can feel it bucking, trying to rise; it's smaller than Wynnie's beast, but feisty, all lean muscles and quick-moving legs, like a six-limbed panther with the beak of an octopus and a single, bulging eye. It tries to bite the rope Kieran's holding with its horrible beak, but Zane pulls harder in the opposite direction. A rasping sound emerges from its throat as its airway constricts.
"Laurel!" I call, and she comes down the ladder into the Korrigan dungeon, holding her long knife in one hand.
"Do you want me to do it?" I ask, but she shakes her head and starts hacking at the creature's throat. Blood spurts everywhere. Good thing we all wore old clothes for this.
"Wynnie!" I shout from my perch on its back. "The sword!"
She climbs down the ladder too, nervously holding the katana. It's a beautiful piece, sharp and well-crafted, a birthday gift to her from me and Arden. And now she's going to use it to set Arden free.
Wynnie and Laurel take turns striking at the beast's throat, cutting deeper and deeper until it sinks down to the concrete floor, dead.
I slide off the beast's back and flip it over. "Kieran, the spell. Remember, not too much, don't drain yourself."
This demon isn't as large as Wynnie's, so it doesn't require as much of his strength to crack the belly open a bit; and then Laurel and Wynnie carefully work to widen the opening without damaging what's inside. Finally, I step forward and pull the beast apart, splitting its stomach into halves. And there's Arden, bound in strips of dark Otherworld matter, trapped in the center of the demon's guts. Kieran and Zane drag her out, and Wynnie scrapes the goo off her before Laurel wraps her in a blanket.
We haul her up the ladder and take turns cleaning ourselves up. The beast can stay in
the dungeon and rot. We won't be needing that prison ever again.
When I come downstairs from washing up, Kieran is standing in the entry hall near the steps, looking through the doorway into the great room. Wynnie sits out there on the couch next to Arden, stroking her hair and waiting for her to wake.
"Where are Zane and Laurel?" I ask.
"Outside, on the porch. Talking. Maybe kissing."
I stand next to him, watching Wynnie and Arden.
"Lucky there were some druids left who knew how to strip Arden's Life-Stream," I say. "Otherwise we'd have had to wait a few more centuries to do this for her."
"The fun part was convincing them to help us out," says Kieran. "I think I have a future in torture. Too bad you killed Chuck a few months ago— he could have mentored me in the art of pain."
"Shut up." I nudge him, and he laughs, a sound so beautiful and genuine and free that I want to hear it again, a thousand times.
"Will they age now?" I say in a low voice, so Wynnie won't hear.
He shakes his head. "There's no way to tell; but the curse is broken, so I'm guessing yes. They can live as other people do. Have human companions, children, careers— a normal life." He glances down at me. "Are you sure you don't want the cure?"
"Who wants a normal life? Normal is overrated. What I want is years, centuries, lots of them— with you."
"Good," he says. "You're finally over that incomprehensible desire to be normal." He places his hands on my hips and pulls me closer.
"So I'm not 'human and useless,' as you once told me?"
"Not at all. Though I would see value in you even without your power. Your soul is what I want." He drops his voice to a whisper. "That, and this beautiful body."
He ducks his head to kiss my neck, and I gasp, but not from passion. Right behind him in the entry hall is Badb of the Morrígna, her wide, curvy form cloaked in shining black hair. She smiles.
"Kieran," I say.
"Hm?"
"Stop kissing me. We have company."
He turns. "Badb, Queen of Banshees and Harbinger of War. To what do we owe this interruption—" I elbow him— "I mean, this great honor?"
"I've come to give you a final gift from the Morrígna," she says. "A token of our gratitude, especially for you, Midir."
At the use of his old name, Kieran's eyebrows lift. The Fates have only ever called him the Far Darrig before now.
"You are one of the last of your race. Maybe not for long," she says, with a significant glance at me. "And we are not interested in seeing the Tuatha Dé Danann fade completely from this world. Ériu had her role to play, as a healer and counselor to other Fae. I give you her power of healing, so you may keep yourself whole, and bless the Fae who come to you for help."
Before he can speak, she touches his forehead, and a bluish glow passes from her fingers to his skin.
"I don't deserve this gift," he says.
Badb smiles. "She wanted you to have it."
My eyes widen, and Kieran is speechless.
"As for Ériu's role of counselor, that place may be better filled by your consort. She has love and understanding in her heart, and you would do well to live by the light of it."
Consort. She means me.
Kieran's fingers tighten around mine. "I will."
"Did you help us?" I ask. "Did you direct me to the druid circle that night?"
She nods.
"But when you washed Kieran's car, you said we would fail. You said it was an omen of death."
"Omens carry the power you allow them to have," she says. "Your choices and actions are your own." She's turning away.
She's turning away.
"Wait, please!" I say.
I have plenty of Life-Stream from all the druids I drained back in mid-summer, not to mention what I took during the battle. But I need to know exactly how much time I have, for my sanity and for the safety of others.
"Badb, is there a way you can check how much Life-Stream I have?" I ask. "I don't want to run out someday when I'm not expecting it, and hurt someone."
For a second, she considers my request. "We don't normally divulge a person's lifespan, but yours is a special case. And I respect your desire to spare humans from your demon's wrath." She reaches out and lays a plump, ringed hand on my chest. I feel a pulling sensation, a buzz of magic. "Your Life-Stream will run out on May 23, eight hundred and thirty-two years from now," she says.
"Awesome! I mean, thank you."
"That doesn't mean you cannot die. It means that your Life-Stream will keep you human for that long, and your Korrigan curse will keep you young."
"I understand."
As she's turning away, I ask impulsively, "And what about Kieran? How long will he live?"
She looks at him. "Do you want to know?"
"Not the exact date," he says. "I only want to know if I'll be alive with her, for a long time."
Badb looks over her shoulder, even though none of the other Morrígna are in sight. "Come here," she says, and Kieran steps forward. She lays her hand over his heart, and when she does, his chest glows with that familiar golden light. A smile curves her lips. "Yes," she says. "You will have a very long time together."
She takes her hand away, and the glow fades.
And then she is gone.
Kieran and I stare at each other, grinning like crazy fools. Then he picks me up and swings me in circles, kissing me the whole time. When he sets me down, we're both dizzy and we stumble against each other, laughing.
"Where shall we go first?" he says.
"Remember your promise?"
"Ah, yes! Paris, right? Then a tour of Europe. And then maybe college, and we have to do a cross-country trip here in the States— you must see California. And you wanted to go to Japan, yes? I've never been."
"Calm down," I say. "We have time. Let's just do Paris first. Like a— like a honeymoon." I blush when I say it.
His eyes light up, warm, intense. "I can definitely agree to that."
"But don't call me your wife, okay? Like you told me— that sounds too easy, too normal, for what we are."
"And I'm guessing you won't call me 'husband,' either. So what am I then?"
"Cuisle mo chroidhe," I whisper. "The pulse of my heart."
THE END
If you enjoyed Samhain, or even if you didn't, please consider writing a review on Amazon. You can do it right now, or anytime that's convenient for you. Reviews help other readers find the series, and they encourage me to keep writing!
The Next Installment...
If you enjoyed Samhain, look for the other books in the series:
Midir (A Secrets of the Fae Prequel)
Korrigan (Secrets of the Fae - Book 1)
Druid (Secrets of the Fae - Book 2)
Acknowledgements
Thank you so much to all my ARC readers and beta readers, you are amazing! Thanks especially to my handsome husband Tristan and my two adorable kids, who put up with my manic typing and random scribbling of notes on every available scrap of paper. I love you more than I can say.
Samhain Page 26
