Shatter - Sins of the Sidhe (17 page)

Rowan stopped speaking and stared at Devlin before continuing, “Then my mother told me that the dog was in my parents’ room all night –with the door shut.”

Rowan had never told anyone about that. It made her sound crazy. It made her feel crazy. Those were the nightmares she kept locked in her box behind an unbreakable barrier inside herself. Now she told the story like it was nothing at all. Devlin would accept her story; she knew it without a doubt.

He sat there and let the woman’s tale sink in. Contemplating how best to find out more information without spooking the already frightened lass, he thought simple was best. “What kind of dog did ye have then?”

Rowan was twisting the sheet nervously in her hand and grabbed her pendant to busy her hands. Of all that she’d just told him, why he’d pick the dog out as questionable was not what she expected.

“She was a black lab, why?”

A black lab. Devlin thought about it for a moment, carefully debating the rational and irrational. A black lab could easily be mistaken for another type of black dog that he was almost certain was guarding her that night. There are many creatures out in the darkness; all shapes, sizes, and breeds. But there was only one such creature that was a black dog and it belonged to something far worse, far more powerful, and far more deadly than anything else ever created.

That black dog belonged to the Wild Hunt.

This bit of news could not wait until morning, Devlin needed to speak with Adam now. He quickly got dressed and had Rowan do the same. It was a short hike through the woods to get to Adam’s but Devlin didn’t want to risk it in the dark with such dangers lurking about, so they drove instead. Rowan’s dream made him too paranoid.

They pulled up to the house and got out of the car. It was still dark and with no lights outside, save the moon, and it took a minute for her eyes to adjust. Rowan froze when she realized where she was. She knew this place. She’d been here before, but couldn’t figure out how that could be. A small squeak escaped her lips and Devlin, already on high alert, turned to see what the problem was.

Rowan started backing away. No, no, no. She was very confused. Her sense of déjà vu was almost paralyzing. It was like she’d been here before but couldn’t remember any of it clearly. Shaking her head all she could think of was small flashes of memory: Screams, tears, and pain. She didn’t want to go into that house.

Devlin held her hand and forced her to look at him. “It’s alright, lass. Nothing here will harm ye. ‘Tis just a house. And a verra well protected one at that.”

She wanted to believe him but her alarm bells were going off even though she didn’t have a clue why. Taking a deep, positive, cleansing breath in and blowing out the terrible negative thoughts, Rowan pulled on some bravery and walked inside. Not bothering to knock, Devlin went through the back door with Rowan coming in behind him, and headed straight into the living room where a fire roared and Adam was bent over a large book at his desk. Ava was stretched out on the couch sleeping with a knitted blanket tossed over her.

“Brother, I’ve a need to speak with ye about the Wild Hunt.”

Surprised by the disturbance and topic chosen, Adam studied his friend with suspicious eyes then asked what had happened. Devlin quickly explained Rowan’s nightmares with their similarities and differences. And then he told them of the black dog. Ava sat up on that note and looked at Rowan with alarm. This was much unexpected. One more piece of the puzzle to add to Fate’s grand design. Ava comforted Rowan while Devlin proceeded to tell them about Rowan’s eyes going white while she was locked in a trance.

“She couldn’t snap out of it?” Adam looked worried.

“Nay. It wasn’t until I grabbed and shook her that she came back to herself.”

“You mean until you touched her,” Ava corrected. The men looked at her for more explanation. “You’re bound to one another now. There’s deep magic in claiming someone as your own. It can be most useful in desperate times of need.”

Rowan didn’t say a thing. She stared into the fire while everyone chatted around her. She was tired and confused. Sadness consumed her while she replayed the nightmare in her head.
“Help me,”
the words rang in her ears like a broken record. She wanted so badly to help and didn’t know how. She felt useless and defeated already. The battle hadn’t even begun and Rowan was already down for the count.

Nora came into the room carrying a tray. The Brownie was astonishing with her timing on food. She shuffled up to Rowan and placed a small, slightly furry hand over hers. Rowan broke her gaze from the fire and stared into the amber eyes of the little Brownie.

“You’re a good girl.” That was all Nora said. She turned to the tray of tea and cookies and handed a mug to Rowan. Smiling, she bowed and left the room. Adam’s eyebrow shot up as he tried to figure that scene out. Nora didn’t talk to anybody, not even Adam really. She just cooked, cleaned and stayed hidden most times.

Ava grabbed another mug, poured herself some Lady Grey, and added three heaping spoonfuls of sugar to it. No one said anything for a couple of minutes until Ava started humming. It started out faint, but then she got louder and louder with each note. Slowly the air in the room became less charged with fear and uncertainty. Rowan felt better and looked at Ava with a thankful smile. Then she started humming along too.

The daft women were singing a tune. In Ava’s crazy way, she had managed to lift the heavy mood in the large living room this dark, cold night. The men just looked at each other and shook their heads. No matter how many years Adam and Devlin have been on this earth, women will always be a complete mystery to them.

In his lair, Lorcan boiled with hate and jealousy. Shadows, flying high, swirled above him screaming and keening in fear of his mood. Someone had claimed Rowan. Claimed the fucking bitch before he got a chance to bind her to himself and his cause. He felt it the minute it happened. His hold on her was small, but strong enough to feel the pull and release of desires within her. When he finds the son-of-a-bitch who did this, he’ll rip him limb from bloody limb and feast on his insides. Lorcan’s plan was going to have to change slightly. Her being claimed by another only added one more hurdle to jump. Just one, but that also meant that someone else had tasted her… savored her… and that was insufferable.

Lorcan had watched Rowan grow from a willful girl to a smoldering temptress. With very few visitors to her bed throughout the years, Lorcan took pleasure in satisfying her the only way he could. Her mind opened up when she slept, letting him slip through the cracks of her minds’ eye giving him a chance to make her feel all the sensual things that he longed to do to her.

She was precious to him. Valuable. The woman was the secret to helping him out of this side of Hell and onto a larger throne. Once freed, he can take his demon army of shadows and seize the crown that should have been his long ago. With her now claimed, he wondered if she returned the favor to the man who had her? The little heathen was ripe for the plucking, magic growing but still locked inside her. He wanted to relish in the delight of bursting her powers free himself. Not only with pleasures of the body… oh no… there were other ways to get what he wanted. So many glorious, torturous, agonizingly blissful ways. Now someone may have beaten him to it.

Snapping his fingers and sending out a battle cry, he released his darkest shadows out into the night to find her. They’ll bring her to him one way or another. He’ll have his taste of her forbidden fruits, no matter who else has just taken a bite.
 

Everyone in Adam’s house was up and at ‘em, even though it was almost four o’clock in the morning now. Darkness still filled what was left of the night. But inside, the lights were on, music played softly (thanks to Ava) and everyone was huddled around giving Rowan her second Fae lesson: Introduction to the Wild Hunt.

Contrary to popular beliefs, Adam explained that the Wild Hunt was a large clan of beasts charged with collecting debts from mortals and Fae alike for the Gods. The payment of each debt varied from person to person (or Fae for that matter) and was usually left on the front doorstep or in some other predetermined area. If payment was not made by the deadline, the flock of beasts took their lives as compensation instead– and sometimes more than that.

Said to be led by a king at one point, the duty had been passed down to various failing leaders. No doubt it was hard carrying out the duties of a Grim Reaper. If someone (or some Fae) died for payment, the souls were kept in a type of purgatory for their lack of compensation. Once they completed their sentence, they were ferried on to the other side: Up or Down. And once at their final destination, whichever end it was, they were “safe” from being pulled back and trapped in the in-between.

The black dog has been seen throughout the ages as a bad omen – an ominous sign of death. But that wasn’t true. It was a scout for lost souls. Spirits needed to be in one place or the other. Stuck in between the realms was detrimental to their energies and to the balance of nature. Some souls stayed on earth to roam because they had unfinished business, but they are not to tarry overlong. The longer they stay, the harder it is to for them to move on. If left wandering too long, they forget who they once were and become senseless angry ghouls that are stuck forever in hate and loneliness to roam the earth, lost in shadows and claimed by something far more evil.

“Lorcan,” Rowan whispered.

It made so much sense. She churned the ideas around in her head. If Lorcan was indeed snatching up these souls to use for his own dark purpose, then she single-handedly could have given him an all-he-can-eat buffet all those years ago. No wonder the spirits stopped coming around her… it wasn’t her they were afraid of, it was the monster hiding in the shadows. Rowan felt angry and betrayed, like they were old friends of hers and Lorcan had chased them away and left her alone. It might be stretching it a bit, but that’s how she felt and Ro was getting angry about it.

Anger does one of two things to Rowan: makes her cry or makes her murderous. This time, she was feeling a whole lot of murderous. “So why is the black dog guarding me? I’m no lost soul.”

“I dinna ken lass, but it’s something we need to find out.” Devlin had a feeling that someone else was trying to keep Rowan safe. A blessing for the extra help or a curse because they might want her for their own reasons, he didn’t know, but wanted to find out.

“We need to see if Rowan can still speak with the dead,” Ava insisted.

Rowan jerked back in her seat. Oh no. That sounded like a bad idea. A very bad idea. Wasn’t that what got her into this mess to begin with? “Why would I do that? What good is going to come from me doing that? Fat lot of good it did me before.” Rowan was feeling some major peer pressure. Say NO to drugs. Say NO to Ouijas. That should be a bumper sticker.

Rowan wasn’t having any of that crazy talk and Adam agreed with her. Devlin stayed quiet while he paced back and forth. Ava, on the other hand, was persistent.

“Listen to me, love. I know it may seem scary but it’s the only way. We must see what’s on the other side to know for sure what we’re up against. Souls see far more than any human or Fae. They spend their existence watching everything around them. It’s the only way.”

Rowan still wasn’t sure about this. Ava was good at persuading people into doing things they probably shouldn’t do. The woman was a master at leading people into temptation.
Shit
. “What about divination? Can’t you deal out some tarot cards or bones or a scrying ball or something? Look yourself, gypsy lady. I’m not doing it.” Rowan all but stomped her foot on the floor. Damnit.