The Order of Brigid's Cross - The Wild Hunt (Book 1): The Wild Hunt (26 page)

After dropping Adrian off at Slainte, Sean drove through a
coffee shop for a tea and a couple of scones and headed for lower Wacker Drive.
 
It was early, but he was sure he’d find
Hettie in her usual place. He wanted to be sure he had a chance to see her
before he got pulled into the meetings with the Order.

The downtown rush hour traffic had thinned and Lower Wacker
was already a ghost town with late sunbeams filtering between the mazes of
downtown skyscrapers and creating a haze of sunlight and dust in the
subterranean community.
 
Sean felt like
he was driving into a post-apocalyptic faery tale.
 

He spotted
Hettie’s
familiar dress
at the end of the block and guided the cruiser to the curb nearby.
 
She was turned away from him, sorting through
her shopping cart, and he paused to look at her as he pulled the drink and bag
from the car.
 

Okay, this day has been
way too long,
he thought.
How can
Hettie look taller?

He stared for another moment and then shrugged.
Maybe she found a pair of high heels.

“Delivery is a little early today,” he called as he walked
up behind her. His jaw and the bag of scones both dropped when she turned to
face him.
 
This wasn’t Hettie. The young,
breathtakingly beautiful woman inside the green ball gown filled out the dress in
a way that made Sean’s body react in an entirely unprofessional manner.
 

“Ah, Sean, you remembered me,” she replied.

Shaking his head, Sean now knew he was going crazy.
 
Hettie’s
voice was
coming out of the woman’s mouth.

“Who the hell are you and what have you done with Hettie?”
he demanded.

Cocking her head slightly to the side, she stared back at
him. “What do you mean, Sean?” she
asked,
confusion
evident on her face. “It’s just me, as always.”

“Yeah, you might have the voice down, but that body doesn’t
belong to Hettie,” he replied firmly, moving closer to the imposter.

Eyes widening in understanding, she looked down at herself
and then back at Sean.
 
“Have you been
playing with magic then, Sean O’Reilly?” she asked, a smile flitting across her
face. “Have you done something to chase the glamour from your eyes?”

He stumbled back and stared. “What the hell do you know
about glamour?” he whispered.

Her beautiful smile widened. “Oh, aye, my secret’s been
revealed hasn’t it?” she replied. “You see me for myself, don’t you?”

“You are going to have to explain yourself to me,” he
replied. “Are you Hettie?”

“Oh, aye, I am and I’m not,” she said, a twinkle of mischief
in her eyes. “For those not clever enough to see through my glamour, I’m Hettie
the elderly hag, and to those whose eyes have been opened, I’m Mab.”

“Mab?”
Sean asked.

“Aye, Mab, the Queen of the
Unseelies
,”
she said. “Part of the aristocracy, but, as you humans so aptly put it, born on
the wrong side of the tracks.
 
So even
though I’m not forced to live underground, I am forced to live without my
subjects and my protectors. I am a queen without a court and have been alone
for hundreds of years.”

Sean looked at the vibrant faerie with her golden hair, her
glowing green eyes and her youthful appearance.
 
She hadn’t been a helpless, homeless woman, and he’d been a gullible
fool.
 
She must have enjoyed laughing at him.
 

Placing the cup of tea on the sidewalk, Sean stepped back.
“Well, your majesty, I’m glad I provided you some amusement,” he said, his
voice tight with anger. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some important things
to deal with.”

The smile left her face and she stepped forward, her arm
raised towards him. “Oh, no, Sean O’Reilly,” she said. “
‘Twas
not amusement I felt when you took the time to care for an elderly woman.
 
‘Twas
friendship and gratitude.
You showed me that the human race
could be noble and not just self-serving and silly.
 
You taught me a great lesson, and I owe you
for that.”

Taking a deep breath, trying to release some of the anger,
he nodded and smiled tightly. “Well, thank you for that,” he said. “And now,
really, I do have to get back.”

He started to turn and she stopped him again. “I want to
help you,” she said. “Ask me for a favor, and I’ll grant it.”

He studied her for another moment. “Are you like a faery
godmother then?” he asked.

Her
smiled widened. “Oh, aye, and
would you be
wanting
a fancy dress and a pumpkin
carriage, Sean O’Reilly?”

“No, I want to stop the Wild Hunt,” he replied seriously.

Sighing, she shook her head. “I can’t stop them,” she said.
“Once they’ve been summoned they can’t be turned back. Unless…”

“Unless?”
Sean asked.

“Unless the Summoner or his
champion
challenge
the Elk King to a battle in lieu of a hunt,” she said.

“I’m the Champion,” Sean replied. “How do I challenge the
Elk King?”

“Please don’t ask me to do this for you, Sean,” she begged.
“You don’t understand the consequences.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Sean replied. “I have no choice.”

She looked into his eyes and sighed. “Aye, that’s the
problem with the noble,” she said sadly. “They die too young.”

Shrugging, he smiled at her. “Well, maybe you’re not giving
me enough credit,” he said. “I beat the Elk King’s horse. I bet I could do
enough damage to get him to cry uncle.”

“Aye, but whether you win or lose, you have to pay the
forfeit,” she said.

“The forfeit?” he asked.

She nodded slowly. “The Hunt has to bring back a prize,” she
said. “If you defeat the Elk King, you will still be bound to go with them back
to faery.”

“Underground?” he asked.
“Forever?”

The sadness in her eyes made his stomach clench. “Aye,
unless you escape,” she said. “And that’s a rare event.”

“But, if I win, they don’t come back, right?” he asked.

“Aye, they must return to faery,” she said. “Your world
would be safe.”

Taking a deep breath, he paused for only a moment. “Set it
up,” he said.
“For tomorrow night.
I’ll let you know
where.”

“Are you sure, Sean O’Reilly?” she asked. “Because once a
challenge has been issued, it cannot be revoked.”

He nodded. “Yeah, I’m sure,” he replied. “Thank you.”

“No, Sean O’Reilly, do not thank me for this thing I am
doing for you,” she replied sadly. “For I am doing naught but helping you end
your own life.”

Sean pulled the cruiser over once he had driven away from
Lower Wacker, pulled into an empty parking lot, put the cruiser into park and
laid his head in his hands.
 

What the hell have I
just done?

He rubbed his hands over his face and took a deep
breath.
 
“Well, there’s no use crying
over spilt milk. What’s done is done,” he said to his reflection in the
rearview mirror. “Now all I have to figure out is a venue and how to escape
from the faery world afterwards.
 
No
problem.”

 
He pulled out his
wallet and found the small piece of paper that held the phone number of Marcus,
the leader of the gang Em had nearly castrated with her sword.
 
“Hey, Marcus, this is Detective O’Reilly,” he
said when there was an answer on the other end of the line. “Do you remember
who I am?”

“Yeah.
Yeah, I remember you and
that lady,” Marcus replied. Noting the nervous tremor in his voice, Sean had to
smile slightly.

“I need your help,” Sean continued.

“Sure. Anything you need, man,” Marcus said.

“I need a place. A private place where I can have a throw
down,” Sean said.

“You gonna have a throw down?” Marcus asked.
“Why the hell you doing that?
You’re the cops?”

“Yeah, well, it’s kind of a private throw down between me
and the leader of the gang that took your friends down,” Sean explained. “I
just want it to be held somewhere isolated, so no one innocent gets hurt.”

“Yeah, I get that,” Marcus said.
 
He was quiet for a moment. “When do you need
it?”

“Tomorrow night,” Sean replied.

“Okay, I can get you Soldier Field,” Marcus said.

“Soldier Field?”
Sean asked
incredulously, picturing the historic football field that was the home of the
Chicago Bears. “Are you messing with me?”

“No, man, I know some people,” Marcus said. “That work for
you?”

“Yeah,” Sean replied slowly. “That would be great.”

“What time?” Marcus asked.

“How about nine o’clock?” Sean suggested.

“Works for me,” Marcus replied. “And
me
and some of my homies will show up for security. We got your back.”

“Thanks, Marcus,” Sean said, thinking the backup wouldn’t be
a bad idea. “I appreciate it.”

“We on the same team, you and me,” Marcus replied. “See you
then.”

“Yeah, see you,” Sean said and then he hung up the phone.

He put the cruiser in drive and pulled to the edge of the
driveway, clicking his turn signal to show a right turn but, at the last
moment, flicked it over to the other side and drove back to Lower Wacker.
 

A few minutes later he pulled up to the curb next to Hettie,
or Mab he corrected mentally.
 
He got out
of the car and walked over to the faery queen who was sitting quietly on a
tattered lawn chair drinking her tea. “Not the throne I would have expected for
a queen,” he said.

She looked up at him and shrugged. “Aye, things have gone downhill
for me,” she said.

“Downhill enough that you would like the treaty to be
broken?” he asked.

“Are you now thinking that I’m an accomplice to murder?” she
asked.

Sean placed his hands on his hips and shook his head. “I
don’t know what I think,” he answered honestly. “I feel like my world has been
turned upside down in the past few days.
 
The things I thought I knew to be true are now lies.”

She stood with the grace and dignity of a queen and folded
her arms across her chest. “Not
lies
, Sean O’Reilly.
You just didn’t have the whole picture in front of you,” she said. “The
greatest power of faery is the ability to only present what we want to present,
give you a portion of the truth, or a part of the picture, so you proceed in a
fog.
 
The fog is lifted for you; you have
to decide how to deal with it.”

Studying her for a moment, Sean rocked back on his heels
thoughtfully. “We have a place for the contest. It will be at Soldier Field
tomorrow night at nine.
 
How do I win
against the Elk King?” he asked.

She smiled. “Good for you, a direct question,” she replied,
nodding her head in approval. “The Elk King is a hunter, not a warrior.
 
He is used to pursuing unarmed and often
surprised prey. You will be both armed and prepared, so you will have that
advantage.
 
He will be on horseback, so
he will have speed but not maneuverability. You must be both nimble and quick
in order to avoid his sword.”

“Does he have a weak spot?” Sean asked.

Her smile broadened. “Another excellent question,” she said.
“Yes, the skull of the elk protects his vulnerable area.
 
If you were able to thrust your sword into
the darkness where his face should be, you will destroy him.”

“Does that mean I won’t have to forfeit my life?” Sean
asked.

Her smile disappeared. “No, sadly it does not,” she replied.
“He is an immortal creature.
 
You will
have destroyed him on this playing field, but he will live yet again.
 
And once the tournament is over, the rest of
the Hunt will seize you and bring you down to faery.”

Sean nodded. “Thank you, Hettie…or Mab…or Your Highness,” he
stammered, closing his eyes in frustration. Finally, he opened them again and
met hers. “Thank you for helping me.
 
Thank you for truly being a friend. I apologize for doubting you.”

Her smile was sad as she stepped forward and placed a gentle
hand on his cheek. “Oh, you must always doubt a faerie,” she said softly. “We
are forever engaged in mischief.”

He smiled at her and nodded.

“And where will you go now?” she asked.

He took a quick, shuddering breath and looked over her shoulder
for a moment. “I need to meet with my friends and tell them as much about
tomorrow night as I can,” he said. “And then I need to visit my parents and
tell them goodbye.”

The back door of the church was opened before Sean reached
it, and Em stood in the doorway waiting for him. “The others are in Father
Jack’s apartment waiting for us,” she said. “But I wanted a few moments alone
with you before you met with them.”

He nodded silently, entered the church and leaned back
against the wall in the hallway. “What can I do for you?” he asked.

She studied him for a long moment and then finally spoke.
“What have you done?” she asked.

“What do you mean?” he asked, surprised.

“You and I are linked,” she replied, moving closer to him.
“I get…” She paused, searching for the words.
“Feelings.
I get feelings about you, and there is something wrong.
 
There is something different.”

He shrugged. “Probably nerves,” he admitted. “I set up a duel
with the Elk King for tomorrow night.”

“You did what?” she exclaimed. “What the hell were you
thinking?”

He had to admit, it felt good to have Em react that
way.
 
She cared. Not that it would do
either of them much good.
 
But it was a
nice feeling.

“Hey, no big deal,” he said with a casual shrug. “I’m going
to fight him tomorrow night. I’ve beat him once. I can do it again.”

Em stepped even closer so that they were only inches apart,
her eyes blazing with anger. “I beat him,” she reminded him. “You punched his
horse in the nose. You are no match for the Elk King. You should have let me
fight him.”

He shook his head. “I couldn’t do that, Em,” he said softly,
hoping she’d understand. “I’m the guy with the special sword. It’s my job to
take on the bad guys.”

He pushed away from the wall, placed his hand on her shoulder,
and leaned forward so their foreheads were touching. “I know you’re a better
warrior than me,” he said softly. “I’m hoping you’ll give me some pointers
before tomorrow night.”

She sighed softly. “There’s so much for you to learn,” she
explained, trying to keep the frustration out of her voice. “You have to call
this off.
 
There has to be another way.”

“I can’t,” he said simply. “People will die. Children will
die. This is the only way.”

He lifted his hand and caressed her cheek.
 
She lifted her head and their eyes met. “Em,”
he whispered as he slid his hand around to the back of her neck to pull her
closer.

“Ah, there you are,” Ian called from down the hall. “I’ve
assembled the team, as you requested.”

“We’ll be there in a moment,” Sean called back.

He dropped his hand from Em’s neck and stepped back slowly,
his eyes still on hers. “I’m sorry about what happened to you today, in the
gym,” he said softly. “I’m sorry he used my face.
 
I’m sorry he hurt you. I would have never
hurt you like that.”

She nodded mutely.

“Do you believe me?” he asked.

“Aye,” she said. “And I should have known that it would not
be like you to force yourself on a woman. I’m sorry I didn’t trust you more.”

He shook his head. “You’ve nothing to apologize for,” he
insisted. “You just always have to remember…”
 
He stopped himself and inhaled sharply.

“What?” she
insisted.

He shrugged and sent her a crooked smile. “I guess I
forgot.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Sean O’Reilly,” she threatened. “You
will tell me what you were going to say.”

He nodded. “I will,” he said, stepping further away.
“But not today.
Come on, there’s a meeting waiting for us.”