TIED (A Fire Born Novel) (17 page)

“Cross with her first,” someone shouted.

Tristan shifted his position slightly as I opened my eyes, and the other two grey shapes slowed and hung back. Scaths lined up on either side us, keeping pace with us. Screeching wails infiltrated my brain. My hand slipped, my fingers losing their hold.

Adjusting his weight, Tristan swung my body around, and I regained my grasp. The air vibrated and hummed around us. A bluish light like a wall of pure energy flickered ahead.

Every cell in my body twanged as we passed through it, the wails in my head fading into a distant ringing. The ground swam into view too quickly. Tristan lowered me to the surface, my feet slammed into the sand, and I fell to my knees, retching.

A sizzling crackle of the blue wall created waves of reverberating electricity as the two other gargoyles passed through it, causing me to heave and spin, still sprawled on all fours.

“You okay?” Human feet entered my line of sight. “I didn’t mean to make you sick.” Tristan patted my back and sounded disgusted. “I just had to get you out of there.” Dressed in khaki shorts and no shirt, his brown hair dripped down his boyish, fine-boned face and onto his shoulders. He smiled, a broad proud grin that made him look fourteen years old.

I wiped my mouth and staggered toward the house.

Benny stood in the doorway, Max no longer on the deck. “How many are there?”

“Enough,” Sam answered from somewhere behind me. “Unfortunately, they know where Max and Layla are now. We were hoping to avoid that.”

I ignored them and pushed my way through the back door, on unsteady feet.

“Are you okay, now?” Benny asked. “Singe anything?” She checked my palms.

I pulled my hands away and sank down next to Max who lay on the couch. My head rested on his chest, salt water from my hair soaking his shirt.

“How did you do it?” Benny came up behind me. “How did you defend him?”

“I don’t know.”

She exhaled. “Layla … fire magic is a very powerful … very
dangerous
gift.” Her tone was motherly and disapproving.

I stroked Max’s neck. The bleeding had stopped, but the bright red wounds stood out against his golden skin like gleaming embers. “What’s going to happen to him?” Tears welled, muddying my vision.

“He’s not a vampyre, if that’s what you mean. Leanaan Sidhe don’t work like that. They’re damned creatures of the Underworld, but it isn’t blood that sustains them. It’s life. I’m more concerned about the amount of blood he’s lost and the curse she placed on him.”

He stirred beneath me.

“Max?” I cleared the soot from his face.

His eyelids quivered. Heaving coughs shook his body.

“Benny, get him some water.”

She disappeared and returned holding a glass.

He drew a weak, weighted breath. Tears continued to fall down my cheeks as he opened his eyes and reached his hand up, cradling my face. He ran his thumb under my eye, clearing the tears.

“Are you okay?” I searched his eyes for any sign of warning not that I’d know what to look for.

He smiled.
My
smile. “Just a little smoke.” He coughed. “A headache. Come here.” He drew me into his arms.

“I thought I lost you. I didn’t know what to do—how to save you.”

“You did save me. You were amazing. I always knew you were powerful.” I backed away and gazed at him through suspicious eyes.

“What do you mean, I was amazing?” My eyes narrowed further.

“I don’t know, really. I mean, I couldn’t move, but I could hear, and I could see.” He grinned a little. “I’ve never seen you so mad. Looks like protector becomes protected.” He chuckled and broke out into a violent coughing fit.

“Take it easy over there.” Tristan walked in the back door, dripping from head to toe. “Can somebody get me a towel?”

Benny rolled her eyes and wandered off.

“Hey, Tris.” Max held his fist in the air, feebly. Tristan walked over and tapped it. “Thanks.”

“Anytime, man. Anytime.”

“Where’s Justice?” Max asked, his breathing calming a bit.

“You know him … still flying the perimeter. Probably daring one of those Scaths to move a little closer.” He laughed. “They can’t break through the boundary lines, though, so you’re both safe for the night.”

Boundary lines?
I’d heard someone say that at least three times.

Max’s head fell back against the armrest. “We’re surrounded?” He rubbed his temples, glanced toward the ceiling, and groaned. “I thought …” He shook his head. “I don’t know what I thought.” He dragged his hand through his hair. “Scaths hunt to kill.”

“And the Leanaan Sidhe?” I asked.

“Her, too.” He closed his eyes. “I’m sorry. I should’ve …” He exhaled and gazed into my eyes. “I thought you were safe with me.”

“
I am.
” I slipped my hand against his.

“Better not let Grandma Mac see you standing on the carpet dripping wet.” Justice said—or so I presumed as he didn’t sound like Tristan or Sam and had just walked through the back door.

Tristan made an instant hop back to the tile, just inside the door.

“And there’s nothing wrong with playing a little cat and mouse with a few Scaths.” Justice grinned, folding muscular arms over his chest, his blue T-shirt tight across his shoulders. Similar to Tristan, brown hair framed a boyish, almost angelic face, but at the same time, he had a stern, authoritative quality.

“Knock it off, you guys.” Sam walked in after Justice and stood in the doorway. “This isn’t some kind of joke. We can keep them off us, but not if you’re provoking them.” Sam glanced toward Max.

“Max is in no shape to fight off anything if we lose control of the situation. Look at him.” Sam gestured toward him lying on the couch.

“Tristan, go clean up,” Sam said. “We have a long night ahead of us.” He remained standing in the threshold.

“Hey, Max,” Justice said with a laugh. “Next time … stay clear of girls dressed in goth.” He shook his head. “You’re lucky you aren’t human. She would’ve taken you down.” Laughing harder, he brushed past Sam on his way out, shifted to his monstrous form and took to the sky.

Max grinned. “My roommates.”

“I gathered.”

Benny marched through the family room, threw a towel at me and another to Sam who threw it to Tristan.

“You’ll need to stay here tonight, Layla,” Sam said. “It isn’t safe to leave.” He spoke with authority, not walking any farther into the house. “Scaths can’t pass through the barriers, but we’ll stay close all the same until morning. After that … we’ll just have to wait and see.” He turned away.

“Sam …” Max lifted his head. “Thanks.”

Sam nodded brusquely without facing Max. “Yep.” He shifted form and took off into the night sky.

“So, you
do
know each other?” I raised an eyebrow.

“We do.”

“Why didn’t you say anything? The night at The Pub … when Benny introduced you …”

“It wasn’t really the time to lay everything out there. Sam and I have a history. He calls Tristan and Justice ‘my boys’ because we’re roommates. He thinks they listen to me more than him. Undermining his authority. He doesn’t like that, so he doesn’t like me.” He pushed to his feet but swayed and ended up back on the couch.

“Maybe I should help.”

Aiding him up the stairs was no easy feat. I prodded him to keep climbing, while Benny made sure he didn’t topple over backwards.

Max fell into bed after we steered him into his room, the moonlight casting an ethereal glow across the white walls and bed sheets.

“What did you mean about Sam’s
authority
?” I asked, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“He isn’t like us. Maybe you noticed?” He chuckled, kicking off his shoes. “He’s one of The Fallen. A guardian, like Benny.” He glanced over toward where she stood by the chest of drawers. “Sort of like Benny. He watches over the night skies and protects humans from the evils that lurk there. He’s repaying his debt.”

Okay
…

“So Tristan and Justice are …”

“In his service. Under his watch. They’re brothers, my best friends, and two of The Fallen.”

“The Fallen …” My eyebrows lifted. “As in Angel?”

“As in Angel. They’re real, you know, The Fallen.”

I didn’t answer. “They’re
gargoyles . . .”

He smiled. “Angels aren’t all white wings and halos.” He shifted the pillow under his head. “Anyway, Fallen means cast out of heaven. Their forms are part of their punishment.”

My eyes narrowed. “And why are you … associated with them?” I wasn’t sure how to politely word my question. Descendants of Celtic Gods and Fallen Angels didn’t seem to fall into the same category. Then again, what did I know?

He shrugged. “Tristan and Justice have been friends of mine for a long time. I’ve never given much thought to what they are—it’s
who
they are that matters, and they’re good guys. They watch my back; I watch theirs.”

I didn’t pose any more questions. My head had been filled to capacity
before
I’d witnessed the Gargoyles and the Scaths—not to mention the Leanaan Sidhe.

“I’m going to crash downstairs and keep an eye on the situation.” Benny shut the door behind her.

Max squashed his pillow, shoving it further under his neck.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” I asked again.

“Yeah, just weak.” He yanked his blankets over himself. “I’m guessing you finally believe us all now?” He rolled onto his side and faced me, grinning. “Hard to deny the truth when you’re throwing fire around.”

Very hard.

“Why are we being hunted?” I asked in a whisper, looking at my hands. It was a question I’d been trying to muster up the courage to ask, afraid of the answer.

He gave a weak laugh. “Because of who we are.”

“And who are we, exactly?” I glanced up. “I mean … I
erupted
in flames
…” The memory made me sick to my stomach.

“Yeah … I saw.” He smirked, his voice slurring. “
Beautiful.
” His eyes closed, a soft smile still touching his lips as he sighed and fell further under the weight of exhaustion.

“Max?”

His eyes popped open and sagged again.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“We are The Fire Born … the last of our kind … Ancients. The Legend …”

A chill ran down my spine.
The what?

“Max?” My voice wavered. I leaned closer to him. His chest rose and fell with deep ragged breaths, and as he rolled onto his back, his soft smile remained. “Max?”

We’re what? The Fire Born?

• • •

I dug in Max’s chest of drawers, found one of his white T-shirts, and changed out of my damp clothes in the bathroom, rinsing the bitter taste of nausea out of my mouth. Thankful the shirt fell to my thighs, I dragged an oversized cushy chair from the corner of the room and sat beside the bed, trying to shake the uneasy feeling shimmying up my back. The fear of knowing something waited outside, lurking, made my skin crawl.

My gaze swept over the wounds on Max’s neck, and anger surged up from my belly, replacing the fear. Suppressing it, I rose to my feet, lowering the volume of the music Max always played, and settled back in the arm chair with my legs curled underneath me.

Watching him sleep soothed my reeling head. He was safe.
For now
…

This is real. This insane alter-universe we’re all standing in. How is that possible?

I laid my head against the armrest, my gaze settling on Max’s face.

No matter what happened tonight, or what’s still to come, you are my heaven, and I will protect you

16

I repositioned myself in the armchair for the umpteenth time, unable to get comfortable. Questions swirled through my mind—doubts and skepticism, too. The night’s events had taught me a harsh lesson: without knowledge, I would become a sitting target, and Max—I couldn’t breathe when I thought about what could have happened to him.

Brushing his arm with my fingertips, I pushed to my feet and headed to the desk, where I opened his laptop and searched the Internet for Celtic Gods.

Streams of sites filled the page. I clicked the first one and settled in to read.

The Tuatha Dé Danaan

Celtic Gods

(The People of Dana) The Celtic Gods, or the Tuatha De Danaan (Tua Day Dhanna), are believed by some historians to be an ancient Irish race, perhaps one of the Island’s earliest civilizations. Thought to be immortal beings with supernatural powers, strength and skill, the race is believed to have ruled ancient Ireland, or Eire, thousands of years ago, before being driven underground by an invading race. Some believe that the Tuatha Dé still exist in the Otherworld, also referred to as the Land of the Sidhe (Shee), or the Faerie Realm.

I thought of Benny, watching over the house. Protecting me like she’d always done. Somehow I’d known she had.
Still … a fairie? Benny? Bossy, demanding, Benny?
I couldn’t see it—no matter how many times she said it.

Max’s uneven breathing rasped from across the room. Waiting until he resettled, I turned my focus back to the laptop screen.

Sidhe (Shee) are actually mounds of earth that dot the Irish countryside and are thought to be the doorways into the realms that lie within. These mounds still exist in present day.

Generational legend insists that the dwindled race of Tuatha Dé DANAANS exists within these realms beyond our world.

Still others conclude that the doorways to the Otherworld can only be found deep within the ancient wood at the base of the Tree of Life, whose massive root systems are thought to plunge into the depths of the earth and beyond.

Some Celtic Gods are believed to have the ability to shape-shift or change their appearance at will. Although legend tells us that the People of Dana passed into the Otherworld as Fairies, historic scholars deny this, stating it is nothing more than myth.

The Underworld is said to be the home of the Fomorians, OR FOMORE, (Faoi-mhuir), another ancestral race of Ancient Ireland, or Eire. They are believed to be eternal enemies of the Tuatha De, having been driven into the Shadow Realm of the Underworld by the race in earlier times. The Damned are also said to call the Underworld home.