rogue shifter 07 - cut off (24 page)

"Thank you. I'm grateful to all of you for your help." They repeated that they'd be back at six, recommending that I eat something and rest until then.

It had taken every bit of my strength not to fall apart in front of them, but the moment they left, I crumpled onto the rug in front of the fireplace and cried. My sobs echoed through the horribly empty house as I rolled my body into a ball, terrified that I'd have to spend the rest of my life with this soul-numbing emptiness.

Samson was suddenly beside me, nuzzling my face and whimpering at my distress. I hugged him until I was cried out, then retrieved a box of tissues from a nearby table to clean myself up. After blowing my nose and wiping my face, I leaned against the couch, looking up at the picture of Garrett and his family that hung above the mantle. He'd been Charlie's age when they'd posed for the painter, a young shifter trying his best to look mature, yet still innocent and unaware of the difficult future ahead.

I wrapped my arms around my middle, trying to hold in my worry and frustration. Garrett had already suffered through so much: the murder of his family, his own torture and the torture of his friends by his maker, Eleanor. And then there was my kidnapping. Perhaps the worst of it all was struggling through day after day of Charlie's illness, although at least we'd had each other to lean on. I wouldn't have made it through those early years if Garrett hadn't been there to hold me and kiss away my tears and reassure me with his steady strength.

I ached for him to be here holding me now.

Shaking myself back into real time, I turned my thoughts toward our son. Charlie was now sixteen and glowing with health, growing in power on a daily basis. I realized suddenly how much I also missed his presence in the house, even though most of the time these days he and I were arguing. Garrett had a way with him that broke through Charlie's stubborn determination and got him to listen to reason. After a father-son talk he'd usually come and apologize. Sometimes I'd apologize too. Parents weren't perfect either.

Charlie had such a serious nature, at least with me. When he allowed himself to loosen up, his laughter was addictive, his joy lighting up his young face. I'd seen many a young girl's head turn when he smiled at them as he walked past.

Forcing myself to stand, I washed my face in the bathroom and stared at my reflection, making a solemn pledge to stay strong this evening.
You fell apart for the last time. Now get a grip. Garrett will need your strength and so will Charlie.

Samson, who'd curled up by my feet as I'd washed up, wagged his tail, barking the bark he used when greeting someone he knew. At the same time, I caught a scent in the air that calmed me like the scent and the sound of the sea often did, filling me with hope.

I smiled. Garrett was alive. He'd be home with me tonight, then Charlie could come home too. We'd be a family again by tomorrow morning.

I fed Samson, then drank a glass of water to ease my scratchy throat. Hearing my stomach growl, I glanced at the refrigerator. A few minutes ago I couldn't have eaten a lone grape, but now I was starving. I made a roast beef sandwich and even added a side salad, surprising myself by eating every bite.

As per Aedus' instructions, I dressed in a tunic made of a rich chocolate colored fabric and tan leggings, something a female fae warrior might wear to meet the queen. It was comfortable to fight in, but still looked respectable, decorated with a dressier emerald trim on the sleeves and hem. After strapping on my arcane blade and pulling on soft leather boots, I brushed my hair, braiding the long strands into one plait to keep it out of my face.

I dismissed the idea of a nap and instead sat outside to watch Sash and Rick shoot hoops, the two of them sticking close to the house in case I needed them. Seeing me there, Rick gave me a wave and a smile while Sasha blew me a kiss. I returned their greeting with air kisses, smiling to show them I was confident about the results of tonight's adventure. Despite their attempt at good humor, I knew that they were hurting too, their emptiness different than mine, but still hard to bear.

They finished their game and then bookended me on the porch steps, surrounding me with their enormous bodies and their solid friendship. We talked about old times, their latest security jobs and all kinds of irrelevant nonsense meant to take my mind off of Garrett's situation. It helped.

By the time my squadron of fae arrived, attired for battle and eager to go, I was ready to deal with Fionna.

CHAPTER FORTY

He was watching me like a hawk, eating very little while I piled more meat on my plate. I got the feeling that he was nervous. Well, join the club.

"It's gonna work," I said in an attempt to reassure him, but also myself. We'd struggled with the lesson for the first hour, then things had fallen into place. This gift was rare and dangerous, for me and others.

"I believe you." Isaiah was fooling around with his spoon, making it bend and straighten, then spin around on the table.

"Why aren't you eating?" I asked

"Perhaps because you're putting yourself in extreme danger, and I'm going to have to face your mother and father's anger."

"That's not it." I laughed. "You don't care if they get mad at you."

"Maybe I'm worried for you."

That was closer to the truth. "I'm outta there as soon as there's trouble."

He snorted and shook his head. "Trouble calls to you, son. That demon blood is going to get you into all kinds of scrapes. Take it from someone who knows." He pointed the bent spoon at me and jabbed it in my direction."Keep in mind that with your healer gift, you can probably schmooze your way out of just about anything. You've seen how your mother wraps us around her finger like obedient puppy dogs."

"Yeah, but Mom's...well...guys like to help pretty females."

That produced a loud belly laugh. "Look in the mirror, kid. You're very pretty. I bet the fae females are throwing themselves at you already."

"I'm not pretty!" I tossed a plum at his head, but he caught it and tossed it back. My face had gotten hot. Why did I have to blush like a freakin' girl?

"Handsome or pretty or hot, it's all the same." He narrowed his eyes in thought. "Which fae female? Wait, let me guess. It's Linn, right?" I didn't answer. "The elders are probably hoping you'll fall for each other." I frowned, then too late, tried to hide it. "Ah. The little princess does not call to your heart?"

"She's perfect, but..."

"I understand. It's the demon blood, you know. It goes against the grain to do what's expected of us. We strive for chaos, or at least a touch of confusion and disarray. It makes life intriguing. I'm seldom bored, which is the bane of an immortal's existence."

"I think you're the bane of Lord Caelen's existence."

"Then he isn't bored either." We laughed out loud, short-circuiting some of the nerves that had built up as my departure time drew close.

I shrugged. "Anyway, I'm not full blood fae. The elders can't want me for Linn. Aedus definitely doesn't." Lately, every time Aedus looked in my direction, he frowned.

"Did your mom ever mention what Bridget told her before she died?"

"Yeah. Do you think it's possible for them to...to block my demon magic to make me mostly fae?"

"Naberia told Bridget that it was what Caelen had planned for you. I've found no proof, even though I've been searching for an answer on and off ever since your mom went all ballistic on me. I'd love to find proof of Caelen's treachery, but alas..."

"Mom was pissed off?"

"You might say that. Bridgett had told her I knew all about this plot to steal part of your magic." He shook his head with an exasperated expression. "That girl continues to cause trouble, even ten years after her death." He downed the rest of his wine in one gulp. "During my exhaustive searching I found some sketchy evidence that one hundred and fifty years ago a male fae's magic was blocked permanently by a group of sorcerers working for an unseelie. The sorcerers were sure that this particular fae had demon blood as well as fae blood and so would survive. They were wrong and the fae died."

"Oops."

"Yeah. Mother has quite the magical reference library, but until I can get my hands on those tomes, I'm afraid there's nothing else I can tell you. What's ironic is that Adele searched for years to have her demon blood blocked. If there was actually a way to do it, she might still be alive." Isaiah had a sadness about him when he talked about my mom's mom. It almost made him seem like just another male, missing his lost love. Almost.

"Why keep searching?" I asked.

"For you, bonehead." He threw an apple and I was able to duck out of the line of fire. Dilt, one of his goblin servants had appeared behind me, catching it and then biting down. "You know how I love a challenge." He winked.

"I know how you love to piss off your mom." I said.

"Ha. And you don't?" I refused to answer.

An hour later I was in my room turning around in front of the full-length mirror, checking for mistakes. There were none that I could see, but I needed Isaiah's feedback, so I told the servant to ask his lord to visit me as soon as he had the time.

Isaiah was in my room before the servant delivered the message. He looked me over from head to toe, taking in a lungful of my scent and then smiling. "A prodigious feat for a male so young." He touched behind his ear and bowed, showing me respect in the demon way. "You are now my excellent theory come to life, a true example of royal blood rising to the top."

"What?"

"Proof that even a being with only a small amount of the royal bloodline will seek to cause mischief. The chaos you provoke tonight will be the stuff of legends." He took a last look. "You just might be able to pull this off."

I shrugged. "I have to believe I can. Dad's being tortured and Mom needs my protection."

He stepped closer and grasped my shoulder. "You make me proud. Stay safe, young demon. I've enjoyed our time together."

"One day I'll bring you Kennet's head."

"I'd rather have the queen's" He winked.

"You're a tough guy to satisfy." I laughed.

"I have high expectations where my family is concerned." He messed my hair the way Dad always does, so I frowned and worked to smooth it again. "Send a message through Marie so I know you've survived." I started to laugh, but then saw he was serious. "I'd give much of my wealth to see everyone's shocked expressions."

"They'll either kill me or hug me. Thanks for your help."

Isaiah took down the blocks that had kept me on the compound so I could dissolve into the lines. I'd chosen my point of reentry very carefully. Everything was riding on whether or not I could get my long-time friend to agree to my plan. Because I knew exactly where he was, I'd decided to surprise him. Tonight I'd need to mine every shred of my limited resources to make this happen.

But I'd get my way, one way or the other.

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

When the six of us emerged from the flux of traveling the lines, we stood on a wide pathway that led into the forest. I hadn't expected this. Whenever I traveled to Cascade I'd arrive on their ceremonial field, smack in the center of things. I guess Fionna didn't want us popping in on her doorstep.

Despite the bright moon and stars, the thick forest was creepy and dark. The trees were bent at odd angles, leafless and misshapen. Caelen's face grew concerned as he strode forward and placed his large hand on the bark of the closest oak. He closed his eyes, frowning. When he pulled his hand away, a patch of bark fell to the dry ground.

"The forest is diseased. The ground is parched and the trees are starved for nutrients. Line magic usually keeps the woods flourishing, but if Fionna is restricting her people's use of magic then there is no surplus." He glanced around. "I remember times when the pathway was so overgrown with foliage, it was difficult to navigate."

"I sense no wildlife, nor other seelie species," Aedus added.

Lord Caelen sent out his orders. "Brina, take Farrell and go deeper into the woods. We need to know how widespread this malady is that envelopes the land." Brina tugged on Farrell's arm and they were gone.

Even though I was anxious to get to Garrett, I understood why Caelen wanted this information. The more he knew about what Fionna had been up to, the better prepared he'd be to deal with her.

"She's draining her own people?" I asked.

Caelen sighed and sat on a tree stump. "The lines are fed when we use our magic, the magic that is created with each fae birth. Fionna uses her magic for frivolous entertainments and personal pleasures, needing more than she can create on her own. If she is draining magic from her own people, the lines will begin to starve. The last time I was here I noticed that many court fae looked undernourished. I did not know it had gone so far."

"Could the fae die of starvation?"

"They would weaken, become unable to defend themselves against a healthy fae. If civil war were declared, our Cascade Sidhe would be able to defeat them easily. But..."

"You don't want to hurt your own people. None of us want to hurt them."

He hesitated. "I am pleased to hear you say that."

"I don't blame anyone but Fionna. Well...and Kennet."

"I would not be surprised at all to find that he is behind much of this. Fionna is powerful, but when she believes someone is loyal to her, she is easily swayed by that person. She is alone except for her daughter, Zerian, and Kennet." He sighed and rubbed his temples. "She's never been able to think beyond her own immediate needs."

"Father, the road ahead is clear." Aedus had gone ahead and checked, since Farrell and Brina were still out of sight. Seeing Caelen's distress, Aedus put a hand on his father's shoulder. "I will take care of Fionna, Father, if it is necessary."

Caelen stood, brushing himself off. "I appreciate your assistance, Aedus, but..."

I interrupted. "She's your sister. You love her. It's something you don't get over, trust me. Let Aedus help you if he can." There'd been early mornings when I couldn't find sleep, along with nights filled with countless nightmares, all because I'd killed my sister, Bridgett. The fact that I hadn't struck the actual death blow made little difference.