Summon (5 page)

When Rae and Breandan drew apart a smile flitted
across little brother’s face.

My heart barely had time to lift before anger
darkened Breandan’s features. His back teeth ground together, an unpleasant
habit he’d possessed since a youngling, and his face twisted in frustration.

He glared off to the side. Hissed something into
the darkness.

“Whom is he talking to?” Kian asked.

I squinted at the seemingly vacant space Breandan
directed his words. “The phantom,” I spat irate at the leech’s return on little
brother’s behalf.

“Another mystery. Breandan took his head.”

“That was truth. He appeared within the circle
after….” Words blending with a growl, I grew angry, and my healing wound ached.
Wincing, I rubbed it lightly careful not to break the new skin. “The godling
Marinette brought him back. I heard of phantoms before but never saw one.”

“A ghost?”

“Humankind has ghosts. The restless spirit of a
demon becomes a phantom.”

“Of all people why bring him back? What does she
have to gain?”

“The power of distraction.”

Kian didn’t understand. He shrugged. “Who are these
Loa? You and the older Knights know of them, but stay silent. Why do they
return? Will they attack? Are we safe?”

Questions
abound and too few answers.

Again I felt a keen desire to regain control. It
was easier to stoke the fires of trust by soothing my followers with falsehoods
until the threat was removed.
All I have
is the uncertainty of the truth.

At my silence, Kian sighed, then brightened and
pumped his fist. “Hai, Conall.”

Pausing a headlong rush towards his sister, Conall
offered a salute of respect to his brother-in-arms. He took another hurried
step then remembered to execute a short bow in my direction.

I signalled to him strongly, pulling him off course
and to my side.

Rae acted strangely, and was not in the frame of
mind to deal with her Elder.

If Breandan
kisses her so ardently again, Conall is likely to do something
regrettable.
  

Stalling I asked, “All is well on the outskirts?”

“Nothing is amiss.” Conall glanced over his
shoulder, impatient. “You are hurt?”

“No.” I smiled, a fake stretch of lips I persevered
with until the end. “I have a hard head. See to the witch.”

“My sister–”

“Will be fine. Little brother is with her, and she
has the protection of all you see here. Others have need of you.”

Healing was a rare gift in a Warrior, and he only
had so much strength before the good he did lessened.

Muttering an agreement, Conall stalked off, his
head turning in Rae’s direction.

Prowling and protective, Amelia remained in her
Changed form hovering over the witch’s motionless body. She let Conall pass
with a low whine.

He knelt at Ana’s side, and pulsations of magic
vibrated the air as he used his healing gift.

A wail of pain tore from Ana as she roused from a
dream state into a fit. Clutching her burnt wrist she thrashed, her oval face
dampened with tears and crumpled as she failed to choke a sob.

Conall brushed the dirty hair from her brow and
chanted melodiously, tender in his handling.

Mercifully, she drifted into unconsciousness.

“The cost to the witch was great,” I said. “Greater
than expected.”

Impassive, Kian fingered the buckle and strap
resting across his chest. “I misjudged her. Never again will I make the mistake
of judging a person by kind alone.”

Considering these wise words, I reassessed the
witch’s sleeping form. “Have I been too harsh in my judgement of her?
Witchcraft is a font of evil. Can good truly be derived from it?”

“She fought the half-breed. Her father in all
senses of the word.” Kian’s tight-lipped smile failed to conceal his disgust at
the memory of Cael. “That is commendable.”

“Where does her loyalty lie? What machinations does
she rouse disguised as a wounded ally?”

Kian chuckled. “You are a suspicious male.”

Conall warned Amelia back then scooped up Ana. A
tangle of hair obscured most of her features, but the hint of her eye socket
appeared sunken, the curve of her cheek ashen.

“I will take her to my dwelling.” Conall tilted his
head at me in deference and request. “She must rest.”

I nodded.

The Warrior left with his injured charge, casting a
stare of longing at his sister.

I wondered if intervening in their reunion avoided
Conall suffering, or if it delayed the inevitable.

“You think it safe?” Kian asked. “My confidence in
our ability to thwart any scheming fuelled by witch is undecided. I misjudged
her, but that is not to say she is incapable of mischief.”

“Caution is best. I do not enjoy outsiders roaming
the Wyld freely, but what else am I to do?” Knights fell under Cael’s attack. A
score of the less steadfast warriors left to seek kin in the Wyld closer to the
sea. “There are no spare Knights to allocate as her guard. Where is the sense
in segregating a dangerous outsider when there are scarcely insiders left?”
I rule a Wyld with nothing but a scattering
of tribesmen to oversee.
I rubbed my temple, the stabbing pains growing
worse by the minute. “It is better if the witch rests close whilst I calm those
who still look to me.”

“Speaking of outsiders, Kalcifer wishes an
audience. He is displeased.”

“Kalcifer
would
have much to say. I have no answers to give without talking to the witch, who
is unconscious for gods knows how long, or Rae.”

“Breandan will have answers. He and the witch have
conspired for sometime. It is obvious.”

My headache grew worse.

I had no magical sway over little brother. He
foreswore his oath, and nothing would make him tell me what he knew. He
understood I’d act for the greater good if told something concerning.

Perhaps,
it’s too late to try and lead after I’ve failed to manage my brother and his
wilful mate. Or did I choose the path of failure months ago when I left to
discover if the rumours of Cael’s growing power were genuine?
I have the
throne, but no people to lead, and
no
High Lady. My fairy Knights are cut down
.
The leaders of the demon factions watch me closely for weakness, and
are uneasy because my followers forsook me. It would be easy if they left
without reason, but it’s because of
my
attraction to the vampire. A complication I must remedy directly. After I deal
with whatever fallout I helped create resurrecting Rae.
Like the others,
I’d wanted her back to assuage my guilt, but I let it happen too quickly.
Again, what else could I have done?
As
Rae’s body grew insubstantial before my eyes, little brother became more
dangerous each moment that past without her.

Gods, he
would have lost his sanity if I denied him my power for the ritual.

“My lord?” Kian prompted when I remained entrenched
in my thoughts. “What shall I tell the Pack Alpha? He rants that his wolves
left and that it is our fault.”

“Later. At the Meet, we can talk. He must be patient.”
I glanced at the empty tree boughs. Talon gouges marred the bark, and a
scattering of feathers littered the ground. “The raptor Clan left.”

He nodded. “I trailed them to the edge of the
Wyld.”

“Gita broke her word.”

“They were spooked.” Kian hesitated. “Three
families left in their wake.”

“This is news?” I scoffed, bitter. “Most of the
Wyld has fled. These were merely stragglers.”

“The Pride guarded the circle boundary as
promised.”

“Alec is loyal to Rae. He would not abandon her.”

Kian rubbed his jaw to mask a smile. “And of course
he lays claim to Lady Maeve.”

My eyelid twitched. “So I have heard.”

I spotted Daphne standing lost in the agitated
gathering. My immediate instinct urged me to draw her close and shelter her
body with mine.
How does she feel now her
dead Sire returns?
My gut clenched.
Nothing
good will come of this attraction. Turn your back and never think of her again.

Heart lurching when she looked in my direction, my
hand lifted before I realised the blunder, and I beckoned to her.

CHAPTER FOUR

Rae

Inhale. Blink. Exhale.

The warmth faded. My hand rubbed the itchy flora,
and I knew if I wore the creepy garment much longer I’d fall ass first into
hysteria.

I was
covered
in dead things.

Why?

I remembered Lochlann dressed Maeve in flowers for
her funeral shroud before we burnt her body.
Is that why I smelt my skin burning?
Did Breandan wrap me in these vines then set me on fire?

My chest hurt, and I rubbed it with the heel of my
palm. The scar over my heart barely induced a murmur. I bore many scars what
was one more?

Breandan
stabbed
me?

Inhale.
Blink. Exhale.

Magics thrummed at my fingertips and exploded from
me in a tingly rush. The withering vines and leaves surged to life under my
palms.

I licked my lips, and as the air from breathing out
rushed past them it was cool and refreshing.

There were eyes on me. The demons gathered expected
apprehension. Disorientation. I felt neither. Each thought was crisp, and each
feeling clean. I doubted anything could scare me such was my acuity.

Physically I felt wonderful but my emotional
bewilderment couldn’t be denied.

Inhale. Blink. Exhale.

My purpose was to bring balance.

Frowning, I touched my temple at a burst of memory.
Didn’t I do that?

I used my power to staunch the flow of magics
escaping the Source. Cael punched a hole through it before Lochlann defeated
him, using the Wyld Heart as a magnet to saturate the atmosphere with more
energy than it could contain.

He wanted to set fire to everything. I’d stopped
that.

Why am I
here?

My last moments weren’t easy, but they’d been
peaceful. Breandan held me, and his tears had fallen hot on my skin. His lips
trembled as they kissed my cheeks, voice breaking as he begged me not to die.

My feet stalled as the answer came to me. I pressed
my eyes closed and shook my head, the movement slow as if I struggled to turn
under water.

Our gazes collided as he already studied me.

Breandan’s shoulders looked larger than I
remembered. His neck and arms as well. Muscle rolled under the pale sheathes of
skin, creating swales and hollows. The smooth tension of his movement flexed
the hard contours and deepened the shadows at the strong cuts defining his
musculature. His black tattoos faded to silvery gray under the luminance of his
skin, and his wings were tucked tightly to his back, his tail relaxed.

I hunched my shoulders. Spun so fast to give him my
back I got faint. Thunder loud, my heart raced, uneven and panicked.

Nothing scared me anymore? He made me a liar.

I clutched at my chest, forced myself to relax then
patted it soothingly.

Breandan made me
feel
, far too keenly after the numbness he’d liberated me from. It
hurt to behold him, and feel as I did after floating in nothingness.

I glanced over my shoulder.

Silver light haloed him in a nimbus and darkened
closer to his skin. Tempting. Liquid and limber, his gait hinted at repressed
aggression as he defiantly crossed the space I’d put between us.

My thoughts muddled the closer he prowled. He made
it hard to think, to draw breath.

What to do?

What do I
say?

Inhale.
Blink. Exhale.

Turning to face him, I shifted my gaze to past his
pointed ear whilst his roamed possessively. I fidgeted. The bluish pools would
mesmerize me if I looked into them. They needed to catch me first.

“Rae-love?” Breandan waited on my reply. Sighed. “I
know this must be overwhelming, but please, talk to me.”

“Why am I here?”

“A misunderstanding.”

“I don’t get what you mean.”

“At what point did I say you should?” Anger and
amusement warred in Breandan’s tone. “I told you over and over. My actions
spoke louder than words. My intentions were clear.
I will never let you go
. Still you did not hear me. Is there no
trust between us?”

No trust?

I turned my head to glare.

“Why are you not talking?” he asked.