“I told you, I don’t believe Jada published the one about me,” I defended again.
“And Jada certainly didn’t publish the one about herself,” said Barrons.
“She admitted she published the one about us,” Ryodan said flatly.
Barrons whipped his head toward Jada, eyes narrowed.
“Well, why wouldn’t she?” Dancer said. “More targets dilute the hunt.”
“Precisely,” Jada said. “I think Ryodan published the first two that betrayed me and Mac.”
“It sounds like something he would do,” Christian agreed. “Hunted women are easier to control.”
“Whoever is behind WeCare is the one who published those dailies,” Ryodan growled. “That’s who you need to be looking for.”
“And who the bloody hell is behind WeCare?” Christian said.
“Don’t look at me,” Ryodan said.
“Well, it’s not me,” I said. “Remember, I got targeted.”
“Enough!” Jada said, pushing herself up to her full height, which never failed to startle me. She was taller than me now. “We’re not devolving into our customary bickering. I didn’t fight so hard to get back here only to lose my world. If you are incapable of focus,” she gestured at the door, “leave. Now.”
I didn’t hear a word she said. The moment she’d stood, a glint of silver against the stark black of her outfit had caught my eye. While she’d been seated, I couldn’t see it. My tongue was useless for a few seconds, thickened by shock. I was able to focus on one thing only. “What are you doing with the sword?” I demanded.
“The same thing I always did with it. Killing Unseelie.”
“You said you lost it!”
“I said no such thing. You said I lost it. I said I knew precisely where it was.”
I narrowed my eyes. “You played me.”
“You assumed. I didn’t correct you. It’s not my job to correct you. The spear was useless in your hands. It’s useful where it is now.”
“You took Mac’s spear?” Barrons said. “When you already had the sword, leaving her defenseless?”
“You’re talking to Dani, Barrons,” Ryodan murmured. “Remember that.”
“Really?” I snapped at Ryodan. “Because I thought she was sounding a lot like you.”
“I’m Jada,” she said to Ryodan. “And don’t try to protect me. I stopped needing you a long time ago.”
“Stopped,” Ryodan echoed.
“Not that I ever did,” she corrected.
“I don’t care who she is,” Barrons growled. “I gave Mac the spear. It’s hers and no one else’s.”
I shot him a curious look. You didn’t like me carrying it. You said so yourself.
He shot back, Far more than someone else carrying a weapon that can harm you. While I believe Jada won’t use the sword against you, I have no such faith in the sidhe-seers. Untenable risk.
“I gave her the cuff of Cruce,” Jada said. “She can also make herself invisible when she so chooses. Clearly, however, she can’t color her hair. Still, she is hardly defenseless.”
My hand went to my hair. “It’s paint,” I said stiffly, “because someone printed a daily that set the Guardians on me, shooting at me. They invaded BB&B and sprayed everything with red paint, and no, I can’t make myself invisible when I want to. That was the Sinsar Dubh, not me.”
Jada said acerbically, “So it is controlling you.”
I snapped, “That’s not what I—”
My hair shot straight up as a small tornado blew past me. I was talking to thin air.
Jada was gone. So was Barrons.
I glanced at Ryodan. Then he was gone, too.
I heard a high whining sound as if they were all snarling or shouting much faster than my brain could process as they faded down the hall.
Then silence.
We were alone in Jada’s study.
I looked at Christian, who was looking at Dancer. Dancer was staring at the door, looking worried. The three of us stood in silence until Christian said, “I’ve a corpse to find while that bastard’s otherwise occupied,” and vanished.
Dancer shook his head and slowly turned his gaze to me. “How do you expect us to save the world if we can’t even stay in the same room together for five minutes?”
“We just need to work a few things out first,” I said irritably. “We’ll get there.”
“The black holes don’t give a rat’s arse about our ‘things.’ And she’s right about the spear. Word on the street is no one was killing Unseelie. Why weren’t you out there?”
“That’s none of your business.”
He smiled faintly but his eyes were sad. “You know one of the best things about Dani?”
The list was long.
“She feared nothing. Do you know what fear fears?”
I inclined my head, waiting.
“Laughter,” he said.
“Your point?” I said stiffly, in no mood for more of his cutting insights. We’d accomplished nothing tonight but pissing each other off. Again.
“Laughter is power. One of the greatest weapons we have. It can slay dragons and it can heal. Jada doesn’t have it anymore. As long as she doesn’t, she’s more vulnerable than any of you seem to realize. Stop worrying about your idiotic ‘things’ and start worrying about her. Make her laugh, Mac. And remember how to do it yourself, while you’re at it. Nice hair, by the way.”
Then he, too, left.
—
Since we were on the first floor, I exited by the window for two reasons. One: I had no idea how long Barrons, Ryodan, and Jada might go at it, but I knew one thing for certain—I would have the spear back before the night was through.
Because I’d eaten Unseelie multiple times, if someone stabbed me with it, I might suffer the same horrific death I’d dealt to Mallucé. I hadn’t worried about that quite so much when I was invisible.
Then again, thanks to a mysterious elixir given to me by Cruce, I might survive the wound and shamble around indefinitely, rotting in various places, clumps of my badly stained hair falling out.
Yes, Barrons would definitely reclaim the spear.
I’d never have let her keep it in the first place if I had suspected for one moment Jada might turn my spear over to sidhe-seers, who not only didn’t know me but knew I harbored their ancient enemy, although they weren’t clear on the how.
I’d been willing to give it to her, no one else. That weapon was a serious liability, and like Barrons, I didn’t know or trust the new sidhe-seers, and the original ones had been conditioned with fear and manipulation for too long. It was going to take more than a few weeks for Jada to retrain them.
My second reason for slipping out via the tall casement window was because I wanted a better look at the black hole, and it would have taken me ten minutes to get there if I’d gone all the way around the inside of the abbey to the front entrance then followed the exterior wall to the rear of the abbey again.
I approached the anomaly warily, recalling what Dancer had said about gravitational pull. About fifteen feet in diameter, it hovered some three or four feet above the earth. Directly beneath it was a thick carpet of abnormally lush, tall grass, exploding with large red poppies, bobbing heavily in the breeze, shimmering with leftover droplets of rain. Many of the blossoms were as large as my hand. I inhaled deeply, the air deliciously spicy behind the sprawling stone fortress, and with my temporarily heightened senses, it was intoxicating. The night was hot and sultry as a summer noon in Georgia, the foliage lapping up the heat and humidity as if it were Unseelie-flesh-laced plant food.
I scanned the immediate area. There were no trees near the floating sphere, no jagged trunks or holes in the ground to indicate trees had once grown nearby and been sucked up and in.
Then how had the anomaly gotten so big? I couldn’t believe it had been here all this time, so large, and no one had mentioned it. More logical that it began small and grew quickly.
But what was feeding it?
br />
I dropped onto a nearby bench some twenty feet from the ominous vortex, drew up my knees, rested my head on my arms and studied it.
When I’d been this close to the one beneath Chester’s, I was assaulted by a melody so wrong, so vile, I’d felt as if my internal cohesion was being threatened, feared I might be torn apart at the core, atoms scattered to the corners of the galaxies.
Yet tonight, gorged on Unseelie flesh, I heard nothing. My human senses might be heightened but my sidhe-seer senses were useless. If I came back in a few days when the high wore off, would it sing the same soul-rending song to me I’d heard before?
I narrowed my eyes. The poppies were trembling beneath the weight of glistening, nectar-coated insects I hadn’t noticed at first in the pale light of the moon, their soft buzzing engulfed by the nocturnal symphony of crickets and frogs and half a dozen Fae-colored fountains splashing water.
There were hundreds—no, thousands—of sticky bees swarming the poppies, Earth-born creatures gorging on Faery nectar. Flying erratically, with airborne starts and stops and stumbles, buzzing left and right with dizzying speed.
I pushed myself up and moved cautiously nearer.
Ten feet from the black hole, I became aware of a subtle change in the air. It felt…thicker…almost sticky, as if I was pressing forward into a mild, unseen paste.
If it was affecting me, with my considerable mass, how was it affecting the bees?
I took three more steps and gasped softly. Bee after bee was vanishing into the black hole above. Drunk on poppy juice, disoriented by abnormally dense air, they were being pulled directly into the spherical abyss.
How long had this been going on? Since the night they’d destroyed the HFK? How many tens of thousands of bees?
I sensed motion above and tipped back my head. Not just bees—bats. Was it messing with their echolocation? They were flying straight into it as if lured by a siren song. Was it confusing the birds, too?
“What are you doing?” A voice cut through the night behind me, and I spun around.
Two of Jada’s commando sidhe-seers stood in the moonlight, watching me with cold calculation. I’d been so lost in thought that if I heard them approach, I’d tuned it out.
“Trying to figure out why you’re letting this thing grow unchecked,” I said coolly. I didn’t like being between sidhe-seers that knew I had the Sinsar Dubh inside me and a black hole that could swallow me alive in an instant.
I eased to the left. They did, too.
I stepped farther to the left and they moved with me, keeping me pinned, black hole at my back, a mere seven or eight feet away. I could feel the light inexorable pull of it and shivered.
“Funny. We’re trying to figure out why Jada is letting you go, unchecked,” the tall blonde said icily.
“We have history,” I said. “She knows I won’t use the Book.”
“No one can resist such temptation forever,” the brunette said.
Yeah, well, that was pretty much exactly what I was worried about, but there was no way I would admit it, and certainly not to them, so I evaded. “It’s sucking in bees, bats, small animals. You’ve got to stop it from growing. Burn the ground beneath it. Get rid of the bloody flowers. I don’t know, put up a wall or something to keep the bats out.”
“We don’t answer to you,” the brunette said.
“If you answer to Jada, you know I’m off-limits. So back off.” They were moving closer, threateningly. Both were toned, athletic, draped in guns and ammo. I fervently hoped neither of them had my spear.
“If you’re truly no threat, you’ll accompany us back to the abbey,” the blonde said.
“I told you she was up to no good when she left by the window, Cara,” the brunette growled. “She’s probably been out here, feeding it.”
So that was how they found me. They’d been watching Jada’s office and I hadn’t come out. “And why would I do that?” I said acerbically.
“Because sidhe-seers are the bred enemy of the Sinsar Dubh and you want to destroy us,” the brunette said tightly. “What better way to begin than by taking the fortress that houses so much knowledge about our ancient foe?”
“If you truly have good intentions,” Cara said, “you’ll let us secure you, while Jada reconsiders what to do with you. Come willingly, or not. But you’re coming.” While she was still speaking, Cara lunged for me.
If I hadn’t eaten Unseelie flesh, her full frontal charge would have caught me off guard—as it was meant to—but I reacted with inhuman speed, ducking, rolling, gone. To them, it must have seemed I’d freeze-framed like Jada and simply disappeared.
I instantly realized my mistake.
“No, Cara, no!” the brunette cried.
I whipped my head around, shoving hair from my face. Cara was on a collision course with the black hole, arms pinwheeling wildly, trying to get her balance back, a look of terror on her face. She hadn’t known I’d eaten Unseelie, couldn’t have anticipated I’d move as fast as Jada, or that there would abruptly be no object in her way to diminish the velocity of her attack.
The brunette dove for her, and all I could think was, Oh, shit, if she touches Cara while Cara’s touching the black hole, they’re both dead. I tackled the brunette, taking her to the ground hard, then vaulted over her sprawled body, grabbed Cara’s ankle and tripped her.
If not for Unseelie flesh in my veins, I’d never have been able to pull it off. But heightened senses, strength, and speed endowed me with flawless, instant precision. Criminy, I thought, I could get used to moving so fast. No wonder Dani had always hated what she’d called Slow-Mo-Joe walking.
As Cara tumbled to the ground, clearing the edge of the black hole by mere inches, I let out a sharp whoosh of relieved breath. One sidhe-seer was all I was ever going to have on my conscience. And, although this wouldn’t have been my fault, I’d still have added the guilt to the rest of my sins.
“Ow! Shit! Ow!” Cara was lying directly beneath the black hole, slapping at her face, and I saw a cloud of angry bees swarming her, many of them getting even more disoriented, sucked straight up into the sphere.
“Hold still,” I snapped. “And keep your fucking head down.” There were three feet between her head and instant death.
I crawled forward on my knees and elbows, staying low. The air grew denser, exerting a stronger tug on my body as I approached, and I wondered how much larger it would have to get before people started getting trapped in its event horizon. Twice the size? Three times? And how quickly might that happen? Stretching out long, I snagged Cara’s ankle and began scooting us both backward, dragging her from the bee-covered poppies.
We lay on the ground a few seconds, breathing heavily.
Finally, Cara stopped slapping at herself, propped up on an elbow and looked at me in silence. Her face was covered with angry red welts that were swelling fast but she paid them no heed.
I met her gaze levelly. I knew what she was thinking. Had I done nothing, both of them would have vanished into the black hole. No one would have ever known. Our quantum enemy left no evidence. They would have simply disappeared. People did all the time around Dublin.
Jaw set, Cara moved farther from the black hole and stood. As the brunette joined her, they exchanged a look, then Cara gave me a slow, tight nod.
She said nothing but I didn’t expect her to. The women Jada had gathered closest to her were some kind of ex-military, and wouldn’t easily change their minds about someone they’d decided was an enemy. But they weren’t fools either, and my actions had created a question in their minds.
It was enough to work with. One day, I wanted to be welcomed at the abbey. Not distrusted, as I’d been from day one.
As they turned and stalked off without a word, I dusted myself off and got up. I couldn’t tell if the sphere had grown appreciably from the sudden influx of bees.
But at least it hadn’t acquired the mass of two sidhe-seers.
There was a sudden blast of air, then Jada wa
s standing between the sphere and me.
This was followed by two more rushes of wind behind me. I sensed Barrons’s electrifying presence and Ryodan’s more controlled one.
Jada’s face was disapproving but she extended my spear, handle toward me, blade toward her. “I accept Barrons’s reasoning,” she said stiffly. “Many of my sidhe-seers feel strongly you should be killed. They obey me, still…some are young, unpredictable.”
Gee, duh, really? I didn’t say it. I tensed. With Unseelie flesh in my veins, I was acutely aware of what my spear might do to me. I have a serious love/hate relationship with my weapon. The tip was no longer encased in foil and I wasn’t carrying a sheath. I hadn’t expected to get it back tonight. “You were young once, too. And unpredictable. Gloriously, I might add.”
“And made mistakes, hence my concern about those in my charge. Take the spear.”
“Can I just tell you I actually miss your ‘dudes’ and kind of hate your ‘hences.’ You did a lot of things right, Jada.” I made a point of using her name, underscoring my acceptance of her as she was now.
“Your opinion of the things I did is irrelevant, as is your opinion of my speech. My point is merely that he has a point. And until we’ve resolved this immediate problem,” she jerked her head at the black hole behind her, “we may need you alive.”
She thrust the spear out. Had it been tip toward me, I’d have tested my Unseelie-flesh-fueled speed. I’d considered it back in the abbey when they all freeze-framed out, but opted to leave that particular battle among the three of them, as the last thing I wanted to do was fight any more than I had to with Jada.
Toward that end, I also wasn’t ready to take my spear quite yet. She might not be stubborn Dani but she was laser-focus-on-the-point-at-hand Jada, and I suspected as long as she continued holding it, she would remain where she was until she saw her goal accomplished.
“Otherwise you wouldn’t care if I remained alive,” I said, stating her unstated implication.
“Otherwise it wouldn’t signify.”
I deflected the pain of the jab, remaining focused on her, realizing I might have a unique insight into Jada. How had I forgotten I’d once gone away and come back different myself? When I believed I’d killed Barrons, grief and rage had turned me into a cold, hyperfocused bitch. Jada might never tell me what she’d gone through in the Silvers but it was a sure thing it hadn’t been a walk in the park. How would someone have reached me during those days and nights of unyielding obsession when I’d found it perfectly reasonable to sleep with my sister’s lover and plot the destruction of the world? Could anyone have? “I know you’re not Da—not the person we remember. I’d like to get to know you now.”