He’d been about to say more when he heard Olivia scream out in pain. He moved to run, but his brother held him back.
“Let me go!” he growled in warning.
“I am not letting you go,” Ryder snarled. “They probably know that we are here by now and are using her to bait you. You run to her right now and you may as well slit her throat for them. We need a better plan,” he said, and Ristan swore violently in frustration.
“We could just run in and toss a few Hail Marys out, seeing that we are under a cathedral,” Synthia offered sheepishly.
“Are you always a smart ass?” Ryder asked with a lifted brow at her sardonic smile.
“Nope, sometimes I’m asleep,” she offered with a lazy shrug.
Ristan ran his hands through his hair in frustration as they stood in the narrow tunnel, and the sick realization dawned on him. “He’ll kill her if she stops being useful, and you know that her usefulness will run out the moment he gets that dagger.”
“Listen,” Synthia said as she tilted her head and listened to the sound of rushing water. “Aqueducts?”
“Rushing water, and it’s close,” Ristan agreed.
“We knew that they weren’t lying about the water table, so it’s possible that they rerouted it to build the catacombs. Weirder shit has happened,” Synthia agreed.
“We keep moving,” Ryder said, his eyes still focused on the walls. “The wards are building in power, which means they are getting ready to do what they were created to do, and I’m willing to bet it was to repel the Fae if they ever got past the entrance. I sense it now, so we should move quickly.”
“Let’s go, then,” Ristan said, pushing forward as he saw a light that was growing bigger towards the end of the tunnel. They neared the edge and paused.
*~*~*
The passage had opened to a narrow walkway that seemed to go on forever as it descended into the caverns. Gold veins in the rock glowed and shed a surprising amount of light that made navigating the walkway a little easier. It had taken them well over three hours to find a way across the rushing water that ran well below the walkway they hugged. It wasn’t very big, but big enough to walk single file if they held on to the jagged rocks that were on one side of the narrow walkway. Obviously the Guild hadn’t made this to protect the objects just from the Fae, since they could easily sift to the other side.
Cyrus swore violently as his foot slipped and he barely avoided falling down the deep ravine to the furious rushing water below. She smiled behind his back, wondering what her odds were of pushing both men in and heading back to the pub, and somehow managing to sneak back to her table. Fantasy, she’d actually need a time machine to manage it.
Her thoughts wandered to Ristan, and if he would even come for her. He would come for the relic because his sole intent was to prevent the death of his world, or getting everything they needed to save it. She looked longingly at the other side of the ravine and the narrow walkway they must have come down at least an hour ago; she was lost in that thought when she felt a hand gripping her shoulder and shoving her inside an alcove that she hadn’t noticed until she was on her hands and knees in the dirt.
“Guess there’s no traps here,” Cyrus sneered as he entered the room.
Olivia fought against the pain from her hand as she raised it from the ground. Her eyes scanned the room, taking in the many relics and artifacts the small cave-like room held in it. There were golden objects and glittering piles of ornamental jewels.
Her hand throbbed with pain, her cut filled with dirt from the floor. She sat back on her knees and looked around the room for a weapon since both men seemed to have forgotten she was even there. She slowly moved away until her back found the wall. She waited as her body pulsed with pain. Her head and face smarted, and her knees had joined her list of complaints. Her torn jeans showed that both were bloody, as well as her other hand from the fall into the room and the subsequent rock surfing session.
“There’s millions worth of jewels here,” Jeffery said as he smiled with glee.
She held her tongue even though she wanted to call him an idiot, since most of these objects were here for a damn good reason. She could feel the power from them; mostly the bad ones, as she had been able to feel the same vibe from them as she did with the box that they’d given to Lucian.
Her eyes moved around, but no weapon presented itself, not until Cyrus reached down and held up a wicked looking dagger; its handle was encrusted with jewels, and he smiled with an ugly twist of his mouth.
“This dagger,” he whispered and looked as if he was about to start licking it. “This is one of the weapons Bilé promised us. This can kill the Fae, with a single piercing of the creature’s skin.”
Olivia felt her blood run cold as she watched him and the realization hit as to why Cyrus knew about the relic being in this particular place and had shown up at the same time they did. He must have spotted her with the Fae when they arrived and took a chance that they were here for the same reason. “The Fae would never use something so girly,” she exclaimed. She wasn’t sure why she said it, only that she knew it was the relic Ristan had been after.
She heard a woman shout and peered through the entrance of the alcove. Synthia was on the walkway on the other side of the ravine, her golden halo of hair striking a contrast with the golden writing that covered the wall behind her.
“Cyrus, we’ve got a problem,” Jeffery said as he moved to the entrance and looked across. “A few problems,” he amended.
Chapter Forty-Three
Ristan watched Synthia in the middle of the narrow walkway, her magic fighting against that of the wards and looking across the ravine into a small alcove. He could sense that Olivia was close, but other than that, he had no proof of life. Both he and Ryder had tried sifting across, only to find out that whatever wards were written on the walls were preventing them from doing so.
His frustration was growing more with the scent of blood in the air. Olivia’s blood. He wanted to rip Cyrus’s throat out while the asshole still lived. Her usefulness to Cyrus was most likely at an end, and she was hurt. She was fucking defenseless and he had no way to reach her. Guilt ate at him, but the hopelessness was the worst.
He tore his eyes from Synthia as Cyrus walked Olivia out to the edge of the walkway, and his world spun from its axis.
“He’s got the relic,” Sinjinn muttered. “Fucking hell,” he swore.
“Come on! What are you waiting for?” the male with Cyrus leered as he turned and groped Olivia while his eyes remained on Ristan. “Oh that’s right; no Fae magic is allowed inside these sacred walls, and it looks like you can’t fly.”
“Enough,” Cyrus said with one arm firmly around Olivia’s chest, pinning her against himself and pushing the blade of the jeweled dagger closer to Olivia’s neck with his other hand.
“What are you waiting for? Kill her!” the man begged, his eyes lighting up with his craziness.
“All in good time,” Cyrus assured him.
Olivia looked at Ristan and smiled her goodbye. Tears filled her eyes as she tried to push all of her feelings into that one last look. She wasn’t going to let these crazy assholes take him again, and if she could see his frustration at being unable to get to her, so too could they.
She brought her torn palm up to Cyrus’s arm across her chest. The old man was cocky and sure in the knowledge that she couldn’t do anything to help herself, and the moment Jeffery took another step closer to the edge, she grabbed Cyrus’s forearm with both hands, leveraging herself against him and brought her foot up and kicked Jeffery’s knee with every ounce of strength she possessed. He stumbled forward and slipped off the walkway, his screams echoing until a splash stopped them. She’d be damned if she let them get away with their crimes against her people. The Guild and its members deserved to be avenged.
&nbs
p; Cyrus screamed in rage as he turned on her, his normally pale features turning a mottled red, as he moved to attack her.
*~*~*
Ristan watched helplessly as Olivia looked at him. Her eyes showed him everything that neither of them had been able to say out loud. His heart dropped as the blade pressed closer to her throat, and she did the last thing any of them had expected.
He watched her as a small smile filled her soft mouth, and then before he could tell her to wait, she grabbed at Cyrus’s arm around her chest and used him for leverage as she kicked at the other man’s leg, causing him to lose his balance and slip off the walkway and down the ravine to his death. Cyrus screamed with hatred, and she was caught in his hold.
“No!” Ristan shouted at her, knowing she wouldn’t listen.
Her hand moved to her throat and she barely avoided having her throat cut open, but her hand wasn’t so lucky. She brought her head forward and slammed it back into Cyrus’s, catching the Elder unaware. Blood oozed from his nose as he reflexively dropped the jeweled dagger to staunch the bleeding.
Olivia dropped, using her weight to get free and she scooped up the dagger and turned to Ristan and threw it with everything she had left in her. She smiled with triumph as she turned back around.
Ryder extended his hand and caught the dagger before it could fall into the ravine. The dagger glowed, morphed, and extended into a shining sword. Ristan shook his head in horror at what Olivia had just done. She’d just thrown away the only weapon she had against Cyrus.
Ristan’s blood stopped, his heart fell to the ground.
“Stupid bitch!” Cyrus shouted as he pulled a serrated combat knife from her chest and stabbed it back in again.
“No!” Ristan’s strangled shout ripped from his throat as he watched helplessly as Olivia was stabbed over and over by the same man he’d thought she’d betrayed him with. She slid to the walkway, her arms feebly trying to hold the madman away from herself. “No! Olivia!” His gut wrenching howl shook the catacombs.
“Oh my God,” Synthia whispered as she turned and slammed her hands into the walls and screamed in Latin. Her arms pulsed with golden brands as she screamed a nulling spell, but the magic of the cathedral still rendered the Fae unable to sift. “Ryder, change now,” she urged, but she knew he couldn’t.
“I can’t, Pet,” Ryder growled in frustration as he moved closer to his brother.
As they watched, a hooded figure materialized on the walkway with Olivia and Cyrus. Power radiated outwards and a glowing double edged sword appeared in the being’s hand. Thin, glowing whitish-silver brands traced up his muscular arms. With a swift stroke, Cyrus’s head flew into the ravine, his body following a moment after. Elijah hissed and bent down on his knee as he tipped his dark head in respect to the hooded figure.
“Who the fuck is that?” Ristan asked as he tried to regain his footing.
“Gabriel, the Archangel, her father,” Elijah admitted softly.
“What?” Ristan asked as he swung his head from Elijah back to the dark figure.
“I sensed her when she arrived in Faery and thought she may have been one of us. I needed to confirm it before I told anyone. The story was common knowledge within the Host—about Gabriel falling in love with a Witch from the Salem Guild—and there was talk of a child being born from that union. He fell for a while, but they called him to return to his rightful place. When he returned to the Sanctuary to negotiate, we heard that his woman died and the child’s fate was unknown. He searched for her, but the Guild doesn’t make it easy to find their people.”
That being had been in the clearing with them, and watched him with Olivia. He needed to break the wards that kept him from sifting; this inability to get to her was driving him insane. He watched as the Archangel turned and looked right at him with glowing eyes.
He’d expected him to just leave the catacombs with Olivia, but instead Gabriel vanished and reappeared beside him with her bloody and broken body in his arms. His cloak vanished and the tall being before them radiated power. He was as tall as the Fae, his hair was a long fall of coppery red hair that brushed his shoulders, and his sapphire eyes still glowed at Ristan. Gabriel’s eyes were the same deep, beautiful blue shade of sapphire as Olivia’s. He looked back at her, trying to will her to just open her eyes for him.
“She’s in stasis as she becomes what she was meant to be,” he said as he faced Ristan with no fear.
“You can’t take her,” he challenged.
“I can and I am; she’s my daughter,” he retorted.
“She’s mine,” Ristan stated firmly, his body tensed for a fight.
“Your kind cannot help her with what will come next. She’s an Angel, and you, a Demon. You cannot keep her; we are at cross purposes,” he growled.
“Where are you taking her?” Ristan asked, knowing the Angel was right, yet everything within him wanted to snatch her from his arms and run with her. Deep in his heart, he knew he couldn’t expect her to stay with him after everything he’d put her through.
“To Sanctuary, where she will be given her grace,” he explained. “She needs to know what she is. She needs to decide her fate without influence.” Ristan studied Gabriel as he considered the implications of his words. His hand reached across to trace Olivia’s lips and his mind struggled between what he wanted to do and what was the right thing to do.
“I have to help her fill the picture frames. I wanted to get her new frames and fill them with memories of us,” he pleaded softly. “I love her, Angel. I’ve always known she was special, but she’s so much more than she knows. Tell her that for me, please.”
Ristan barely finished whispering the words when the Angel vanished, leaving Ristan with a hole in his chest where his heart had been.
*~*One month later*~*
Ristan sat by the gurgling fountain in the gardens and watched Sinjinn and Aodhan speaking quietly near the gates to the gardens. His fun-loving brother had been quiet since the incident with the Hag and no one was sure how much he remembered of that day.
Ciara sat beside Ristan with her knees pulled up to her chest, which was something that reminded him of Olivia. Everything reminded him of her. He missed her and her stupid cat that he’d brought to Faery seemed to miss her, too. The relic had been secured with the others, and his brothers tried to occupy his mind with anything they could come up with, but nothing changed.
He hated this ‘poor me’ bullshit, but his heart was missing. Elijah wouldn’t tell him how to get to where Gabriel had taken Olivia, or even if she was willing to see him. The waiting was killing him, and he was failing at being patient. But he would wait for her. He was willing to wait centuries if she’d still have him. The dream medallion hadn’t been working since she was taken from him and he had to assume her father had taken it. Hopefully it wasn’t at her request.
“Enough,” he heard Danu whisper as everyone in the garden with him froze. “Snap out of it already.”
“You should teach your daughter how to do that trick without worrying about blowing shit up,” he muttered.
“We need to talk,” she said, ignoring his words.
“Go away,” he laughed. It was cold and lifeless—exactly how he felt.
“It’s been long enough, and yet you won’t stop sulking. She’s an Angel, and I’m pretty sure I don’t have to explain that your kind and hers are oil and water; Gabriel covered it pretty well, I think. I can help you get through it, though.”
“You can get bent, Danu. I’d rather go find the den of the Hags who had Aodhan than go back to what we were. I won’t go back to that meaningless life. I did my part. I got the relic and lost the girl in the process. I made your wishes come true. Do me the courtesy of leaving me the hell alone from now on,” he growled.
“Was I really that bad?” she asked, and for a moment he felt bad
that he’d reacted so harshly, but it was gone quickly and replaced with anger that she just didn’t get it.
“Yes, you were a cold bitch; a heartless harpy who fed from my pain. You may not feed as you created us to, but you got off on it. You could have saved me at any time, but you chose to stay the course and didn’t really protect me from my father as you promised. During my Transition, you could have warned me what would happen, but you chose not to. You set me up at the Guild as fucking bait and used me for countless other incidents. So this is me, Goddess, choosing to walk away from you.”
“She’s doing well, but she’s conflicted on where she belongs,” Danu whispered as she sat beside Ciara and touched her cheek.
“Ciara is?” he asked.
“Olivia,” Danu said, shocking Ristan into stiff attention. “She is being given a choice. She will make it soon, but I don’t think it will sway in your favor.”
They sat in silence as Ristan digested her words.
“You knew what she was, didn’t you?” he accused.
“I knew from the moment that I entered her, but what’s the fun in giving away the ending?” Danu replied airily. “I would have figured it out even if I hadn’t taken a ride in her; Gabriel wasn’t the only one watching you two in that little world you thought was your own, and eventually I hear everything.”
Ristan blinked at the realization of what she was saying and ran his fingers through his hair with the knowledge that he’d never really been alone there, and made a mental note to keep his fucking clothes on the next time.
“You couldn’t kill her; you knew what she would become if you did, yet you still threatened me with doing exactly that,” he said with a mixture of pain and betrayal in his eyes.