The Order of Brigid's Cross - The Wild Hunt (Book 1): The Wild Hunt (19 page)

Ian and Gillian looked up from the computer screen when they
heard footsteps running down the hall.
 
Keeping Gillian behind him, Ian dashed to the doorway to see Sean and Em
running in their direction.

“What?” Ian asked, seeing the concern in their faces.

“We’ve been infiltrated,” Sean said. “A faery took my shape
and attacked Em.”

Gillian moved around Ian and hurried to Em’s side.
“Oh, Em.
Are you all right?” she asked.

Em nodded quickly. “He might still be in the church,” she
replied, all business. “We need to check—”

“Jamal,” Gillian interrupted, pushing past them and running
towards the staircase. “He’s probably after him.”

They all hurried up the stairs to the second floor and ran
down the west wing towards the rooms that housed Jamal and his grandmother.
 
The hall was empty and there was no noise
coming from the small apartment.
 
Gillian
pounded on the door. “Jamal! Mrs. Gage!” she called. “Are you in there?”

The sound of shuffling feet could be heard through the door,
and moments later it was opened a crack when Mrs. Gage peered out. “What’s the
problem?” she asked, her voice shaking with fear. “Have the police come again?”

Gillian breathed a sigh of relief and shook her head. “No,”
she said. “I’m sorry for frightening you, but there was
an
...
an
intruder in the church.
 
We just wanted to be sure you and Jamal were unharmed.”

Shaking her head slowly, she looked at the others in the
hall. “Do you want to come in and see for yourselves?” she asked.

“If you don’t mind, Mrs. Gage,” Sean replied. “That way we
will know you haven’t been coerced.”

Mrs. Gage snorted. “As if someone else was gonna tell me
what to do,” she said, opening the door and letting them in.

Jamal sat at a desk in the corner of the room working on
school work.
 
He looked up and started to
speak but was cut off by his grandmother. “You can talk to them after you
finish your school work,” she said.

Em looked from the boy to his grandmother and stepped
forward. “I beg your pardon,” she said. “But the creature we are searching for
has the ability to assume other shapes. I would like to hear from Jamal that he
is safe.”

“Assume other shapes?” Mrs. Gage repeated, looking at the
group gathered around her. “But then how do I know that you all aren’t demons
yourselves?”

“Well, of course we aren’t demons,” Ian said. “Why in the
world would we come to your door and tell you about ourselves if we were trying
to trick you?”

“To gain her confidence,” Em said. “That’s how the fae
work.
 
They trick you and manipulate
you.”
 
She turned to Mrs. Gage. “They
cannot touch iron. It burns their skin.
 
So, if you doubt one of us, all you have to do is ask us to touch iron.”

Glancing around, Mrs. Gage spied a cast iron kettle lying next
to the stove and picked it up. “Will this do?” she asked Em.

Em nodded. “Aye, it will,” she said. She stepped forward and
stood before Mrs. Gage. “Now, you need to know that because I am half-fae, the
iron will burn my skin slightly. If I was the one we are seeking, I would not
be able to stand the pain.”

She lifted her hand to touch the kettle when Sean jumped
forward and grabbed her hand before she could lay it on the pot.

“No,” he said, holding it back. “There is no reason for you
to harm yourself to prove the point.” He turned to Mrs. Gage. “If I prove that
I’m not fae and I vouch for Em, will you be satisfied?”

“Of course,” she said. “If you’re not the demon, then you’ll
tell me the truth. I trust you and I trust Em.”

“Thank you,” Em replied, touched at the trust the old woman
would offer her.

Sean placed his hand down on the kettle and held it there.
“I am not the demon,
er
faerie,” he said. “And Em was
the one who discovered that we’d been infiltrated and I will vouch for her.”

Ian and Gillian hurried forward and placed their hands on
the kettle with the same results.

Mrs. Gage nodded and then turned to her grandson. “Jamal,
you come over here right now and touch this kettle, hear?”

Jamal stood, smiled at the group and nodded. “Sure, grandma,
no problem,” he said.
 

He walked away from the desk and, at the last moment, dashed
past them across the room to the door, flung it open and ran out.

“Jamal!” Mrs. Gage screamed. “They’ve taken my Jamal.”

Sean was out the door and after the faerie immediately.

“Ian and Gillian, you check on Father Jack,” Em commanded,
standing in the doorway for a moment. “And then check the rest of the church
for Jamal. Mrs. Gage, stay here and wait for us.
 
And keep hold of that pot.”

Running out the door, Em saw Sean turn the corner and dash
down the stairs.
 
She followed, quickly
gaining on him and running alongside of him as they chased the creature through
the hallway of the church.
 

“Do you think he’s playing with us?” Em asked, as they ran
after him. “Trying to lead us into a trap?”

Sean shook his head. “He looks more scared than calculated,”
he replied. “Besides, it’s not a trap if we know where we’re going, right?”

She smiled and nodded.
“Right.”

They chased him through the first floor and nearly had him
cornered near the chapel, but at the last moment, he feinted to one side and
charged past them. Sean tried to tackle him but missed him by inches.
 
Em charged after him, her sword held above
her head, ready and eager to take him out.
 
The faerie looked over his shoulder at Em, and his eyes widened as he
increased his pace.

The faerie, still disguised as Jamal, stopped at the top of
the stairs that led down to the basement, looked around frantically and then
dashed down the stairs. Sean stopped Em at the top of the stairs. “Wait just a
second,” he said. “The doors to the basement are all boarded shut, right?”

She nodded. “Yes, we boarded them from the inside and the
outside, as well as the windows and any other openings,” she said. “And we used
iron nails to be sure the fae couldn’t sneak up on us.”

Nodding, he looked down the stairwell and smiled slightly. “Okay,
I admit I don’t know a whole lot about faeries, but my
da
is passionate about old churches,” he said. “And this church was one of my
da’s
favorites, so I got to hear about the architecture a
lot. I happen to know this church was built with Cream City brick, from
Milwaukee.”

Em shook her head impatiently. “Yes?” she encouraged, hoping
he would hurry with his explanation so she could follow the faerie down the
stairs. “And I need to know that now because?”

“It’s red clay,” he said.
“High iron oxide
content.”

She stared at him. “There’s iron in the walls of the
basement?”

He nodded. “Yeah, so I don’t think he’s leading us into a
trap,” he explained. “I think we’ve got a fairly uncomfortable faerie down
there.”

A slow smile spread over Em’s lips.
 
“That’s the best news I’ve heard all day,”
she said.

They continued down the stairs and found the faerie standing
in the middle of the basement, twisting and turning, trying to find a way
out.
 
Sean had to get his head around the
fact that this thing was not Jamal, the kid who had been frightened to death in
the hospital bed and could eat food like he had a hollow leg.
 
But it was hard when your eyes said one thing
and your mind
was
supposed to realize another.
 
But Em had no problem discerning the truth of
the situation.

Em pulled out her sword and held it up. “You have one chance
to speak,” she said, holding the edge of her sword to his neck. “Or refuse and
I will kill you.”

“I will not talk, mongrel,” he spat at her.

“Your choice,” she replied, pulling her sword back in order
to swing it forward. But before she could swing, Sean placed his hand on her arm
and held her back. “I’m sorry, Em,” he said softly so the faerie could not hear
them. “I know this is not the way you do things, but since I’m involved, I have
to follow the rules.”

“There are no rules when it comes to these creatures,” she
whispered fiercely. “You cannot use your human laws.”

He shrugged. “Those are the only ones I’ve got,” he said and
stepped towards the faerie. He looked at the face of the creature; it held
Jamal’s features except for the eyes.
 
That’s how Em did it, Sean decided. If you looked in its eyes, you could
see they were not the wide, innocent eyes of a thirteen year-old kid. They were
ancient and filled with contempt and malevolence. And Sean wondered how those
eyes looked when it tried to seduce her.

Sean stood in front of the fake Jamal and looked down at
him. “I just have one question. Your answer will not be used against you in a
court of law, but I want to ask you before I read you your rights.”

“I have no answers for your questions, human,” the faerie
spat,
his voice changing from Jamal’s
to an older one with a slight Irish accent.

“Just one,” Sean
said, as if the faerie hadn’t replied. “Were you the one with Em this morning,
or is there another faerie in the church?”

Chuckling, the faerie
immediately transformed into Sean’s likeness and stood eye to eye with the man
who had been questioning him. He smiled slowly and nodded, using Sean’s own
voice. “I nearly bedded her,” he taunted. “And she was eager, just like her
mother.”

Em gasped and
tightened her hold on her sword.
 
Sean
glanced at her and shook his head. “No, Em, we have to do this the right way,”
he said, and then he turned back to the faerie, his double.
“
You have the right to remain silent.
Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have
the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be
provided for you. Do you understand the rights I have just repeated to you?”

The faerie stared
at him for a moment. “Are you mad?” he asked. “You don’t read rights to a faerie
because you, human, are not able to capture a faerie.”

“Do you understand
the rights I have just repeated to you?” Sean asked as he moved next to the faerie.

“Are you now deaf
as well as crazy?” the faerie asked.

“Yes
or no?”
Sean said.

“Yes. I understand
what you have said,” he replied sarcastically.

“Good,” Sean
replied, slipping behind him, pulling handcuffs from his back waistband and
slapping them on the faerie’s wrists, “because now you are arrested.”

The faerie screamed
and jumped around the room, changing from looking like Sean to his own, natural
shape, a slender and blonde young man.
 
He waved his arms frantically behind his back. “Get them off!” he
screamed. “Get them off!”

“What’s wrong?” Em
asked, looking over at Sean. “What’s happening?”

“Oh, did I forget
to mention that handcuffs are made with stainless steel?” Sean asked, with a
nonchalant shrug. “And stainless steel has iron in it.”

He grabbed the faerie’s
arm and pulled up towards the stairs. “Let’s just see how tough you really
are,” he said, “when you’re not taking advantage of women.”

The door to Father Jack’s apartment was ajar, and Ian and
Gillian approached it cautiously. Wordlessly, Ian placed his hands on Gillian’s
upper arms and moved her against the wall in the hallway, motioning for her to
stay put.
 
She shook her head angrily,
but he motioned to her again and moved on his own towards the door.
 

Creeping quietly, he peered around the door frame and gasped
silently. The room had been tossed. Furniture was overturned, pictures hung haphazardly
on the walls, and bits and pieces of what remained of dishes were scattered on
the floor.
 
Ian hugged the wall as he
moved from the front room, through the small kitchen, into what he assumed was
the Father’s bedroom.

Father Jack lay on the floor, an angry red gash on his
forehead. “Gillian,” Ian called, running towards Father Jack. “He’s in the
bedroom.”

Ian knelt next to the older man, felt for a pulse and
breathed a sigh of relief.
 
His heart was
still beating.
 
He looked up as Gillian
ran into the room. “He’s breathing,” he reported. “I’ll get some ice and give
Sean a call to let him know we didn’t find Jamal.”

Nodding, Gillian knelt down next to the priest. “Aye, and
after this is over, we’ll have words about your actions in the hallway,” she
replied with an arched look in her eye. Then she looked turned her attention to
Father Jack.
 
“Father Jack. Can you hear
me?”

He moaned softly and blinked open his eyes. “What…what
happened?” he croaked.

“It looks like you might have had a run-in with a faerie,”
she said.

His eyes widened. “Jamal,” he exclaimed, trying to sit up.
“The faerie has him.”

Gillian held him down. “Ian is calling Sean right now,” she
said. “And you need to stay put until we make sure you aren’t hurt.”

“Ian,” she called out. “Father Jack is conscious. He says
the faerie has Jamal.”

“The other faerie has Jamal?” Sean called out as he and Em
entered the priest’s apartment, pulling their faerie along with them. Sean threw
the faerie against the wall. “Where did your friend take Jamal?” he demanded,
clutching the clothing around the faerie’s neck in his grip.

The faerie shook his head. “You’ll not hear it from me,” he
choked.

“Em, lend me your sword,” Sean said, holding his hand out,
keeping his focus on the creature in front of him.

“Sean, where’s your sword?”
 
Em asked.

Shrugging, Sean shook his head. “Up in the gym, where I left
it,” he replied.

“You left it?” she cried. “Don’t you understand?”

Sean turned to her. “What?” he asked.

“It’s got magic,” she said.
“Powerful
magic that the fae would love to get into their hands.”

Sean closed his eyes for a moment. “Damn it,” he swore.

He pulled the faerie away from the wall and tossed him to
the ground at Ian’s feet. “Watch him for me, will you?” he asked. “I think I
know where the other faerie might be heading.”

Sean and Em ran out of the apartment and ran to the
staircase to the third floor.

“He’s probably taken the sword and Jamal and escaped,”
Gillian said.

“He would have had to pass by at least one of us on the way
out,” Sean argued.

They reached the third floor in record time and dashed towards
the gymnasium.

“Wait,” Em whispered. “If we go in through the front door,
Jamal could be hurt.”

“What’s our choice?” Sean asked.

“There’s a balcony above the gym,” she said, pointing to a
narrow set of stairs.

“Okay, you stay here and guard the door,” Sean said. “I’ll
go up.”

“But you can’t fight a faerie,” she said. “You need more
experience.”

He winked at her. “Nothing like on the job training,” he
said, and then he quietly dashed up the stairs.

Em slid to the door and peeked into the room through the
glass window. Jamal was in one corner of the room bound with rope.
 
He was unhurt and conscious, but he also
seemed scared to death. She wondered what in the world the fae would want with
Jamal.
 
By now, other humans had seen the
Wild Hunt, so he really wasn’t a threat to them.
 
She was considering that when a movement on
the other side of the room caught her eyes.

He was older than the faerie they caught in the basement. His
red hair was longer and the lines around his face more severe.
 
He was slowly walking the parameter of the
gym,
pausing
every few steps and sweeping the area
with his own sword.
 
Em sighed with
relief as she realized the glamour spell she’d placed on the sword for Sean the
night before had worked. The faerie could feel the power of the magic but
hadn’t been able to find the sword.

Once upstairs, Sean slipped through the open door that led
to the narrow balcony directly above the door Em had been peeking through.
 
The balcony was filled with old gym equipment:
extra mats piled on top of each other, a dozen or so deflated basketballs and
volleyballs, an old volleyball net that was stained orange with rust and a
couple aluminum baseball bats.
 
The iron
railings at the edge of the balcony were also used to tie the ends of some of
the climbing ropes that were suspended from the ceiling of the gym. The thick
ropes brought back memories of grade school gym class and hands and legs raw
with rope burns from frantic relay races up to the top and down again.

Crouching low, he used the floor of the balcony as a blind
and slid to the edge to peer down.
 
Jamal
was lying on a thin, cotton mat on one side of the gym, his legs and arms tied
together.
 
Turning his head, Sean saw the
faerie on the other side of the gym waving a sword around and moving closer to
Sean’s sword.
 

Some
kind of weird faery dance?
he
wondered.
Why the hell doesn’t he just pick it up?

Gauging the distance between the faerie and Jamal, Sean knew
he’d only have a few moments to get down to the gym floor and stop the faerie
before it could reach the boy.
 
He
glanced over the side.
Crap!
It was
higher than he had anticipated.
 
If he
wanted to jump, he’d have to slide through the railings, hang from the side and
then drop down to the gym floor.

Yeah, that’s not going
to work.
  

He needed to act quickly and before the faerie left the other
side of the gym.
 

Looking back to the old equipment, he smiled slightly.
 
Maybe there was another option.
 
Sliding along the tiled floor, Sean untied
one of the lengths of rope from the railing and gave it a quick pull to be sure
it was still sound. He tied a secure loop at the end and put his foot
inside,
pushing against it to make sure it would hold. Then
he picked up one of the aluminum bats and stuck it securely underneath his arm.

Climbing onto the ledge, keeping his eyes on the faerie
who
was turned away from him, he placed his foot into the
loop at the end of the rope and jumped.

He actually expected some kind of graceful swing—like in all
of the pirate movies he’d seen. But instead, he just dropped towards the floor,
nearly breaking his teeth at the sudden, jaw-jarring, jerking stop.
 
Spinning around in a tight circle, he was
relieved to discover that the rope descent had at least been quiet and the faerie
was still dancing with his sword.
 
He
glanced over at Jamal as he spun around and saw that the boy’s eyes were
widened in hope. When he spun past the gymnasium door however, he saw that Em’s
eyes were filled with mirth.

Sliding a foot to the ground, he dismounted as ungracefully
as he had descended and quietly stumbled onto the polished, gymnasium floor.
Dashing towards the faerie, he set the bat in a line-drive stance over his
right shoulder. As luck would have it, at the last moment the faerie turned,
and Sean aimed the bat at the faerie’s face, swinging with all his might.

The bat connected, and the faerie fell back and slid several
feet, blood spurting from his nose.
 
Sean
ran to the corner of the gym to retrieve his sword.
 
He grabbed it and turned just in time to
block the faerie’s parry, sword clanging against sword.
 
Twisting to the side, Sean disengaged and
attacked, using both arms and the same swing that gave him his stellar
reputation in Chicago-style, 16-inch softball. He whipped his sword forward,
using more power than technique.
 
The faerie
stumbled back, unprepared for such a physical attack.
 
Sean continued knocking his opponent’s sword
to the side with each parry, forcing the faerie back to the corner of the gym.

Finally, his back against the wall, the faerie dropped his
sword and raised his hands over his head. “This is the sign, no?” the faerie
gasped. “When someone in your culture admits defeat?”

Sean stared at the creature, his eyes hardened. “I wouldn’t
know,” he growled, holding the sword to the neck of the creature.

He could feel the power from the sword coursing through his
veins, could feel the bloodlust pounding with every heartbeat.
 
It
would be so simple,
he thought,
to
just finish the job. One flick of my wrist and the creature would be destroyed
at my hand. I would be like a god authorizing life or death.

What the hell?
Sean
shook his head.
Where did that come from?

He looked up and saw the smile on the faerie’s face. “What?
I’d forfeit my soul if I killed you?” Sean asked.

The faerie’s smile grew broader. “No, you would have more
power,” the faerie whispered enticingly. “Think of it, human. You could rule
the faery world.
 
You could make us all
do as you wished. You could have the mongrel.”

Sean shook his head, trying to clear fog from his brain.
This could be a good thing
, his inner
voice whispered,
ruling the faery world.
Clearing up all this lawlessness.
 
Protecting the people of
the city.
It’s just one death.
 
And it’s not like he’s human.

“I would take the mongrel, if given the chance,” the faerie
taunted, malice twinkling in his bright green eyes. “I would take her as my
brother took her mother.
 
I would use
her, over and over and over again. And she would cry out my name, begging for
more.”

Rage replaced reason.
 
A vivid picture of Em writhing in passion below the faerie burned in his
mind. Jealousy consumed him as he pulled back the sword, readying it for the
mortal blow.