Grim shook his head. “I don’t know if that’s—”
“If anyone can do it, it’s her.” She looked at me. “If you fall for Drake. If he falls for you. That’s stronger than any love of power holding Brendan on this earth.”
“It’s not that easy,” I said. “I can’t just make somebody fall in love with me.”
“No,” she said. “But keep reminding Drake you’re there. Make sure he knows he cares what happens to you. Don’t let Brendan avoid you because Drake is always watching. Drake can block Brendan, but Brendan hasn’t learned to block Drake. I believe in you, Cara. I think this is possible.”
I looked at Grim. “You don’t agree?”
“Drake is stubborn. Very set in his plans. He will push you away to protect you. But you know that already, don’t you?”
I nodded. But if there was any chance I could keep Drake alive, then I would take it because I had nothing else to lose. I owed him my life. Maybe I could give him his.
Chapter Thirteen
The next day, Zoe did her best to make life seem normal. We had breakfast, went to our classes, and gossiped. And she convinced me that we were absolutely, definitely, no-maybes, going out that weekend.
Grim and Realtín were subdued, which almost certainly meant they were up to something. I kept checking my phone, hoping Mam would text to let me know she was okay.
My knee bounced under the table in the canteen during lunch. “Think everything’s…” I sighed.
“She’s fine,” Zoe said. “She’s a grown woman, and she makes her own decisions, Cara. You can’t do anything more for her. She made her bed; let her lie in it.”
I was surprised by the anger in her voice. Zoe didn’t usually put any energy into anger except when it came to Darren.
Mam sent me a text to let me know she was taking my father out that evening, so I could go over and get my things. I tried to ring her back, but she’d switched off her phone.
“That’s cold,” Zoe said. “Want me to go with you?”
“Nah. I’d rather do it myself. Do you mind?”
“Of course not. I might pop over to Darren’s for a bit while you’re gone.”
“You should. And Zoe? Thanks for everything.”
I wasn’t going to be alone at my house. Grim and Realtín would be with me, and probably an unseen bodyguard or two as well. Still, as we made the trek to my home that evening, I felt nervous. The worst-case scenario would have been my father being home, but all of the lights were out as we approached the house. I took a deep breath before letting myself in.
“Just pick out the things you want to take now and what you would like us to take care of for you,” Grim said reassuringly. “The king has told us to help, but we would have anyway.”
I smiled gratefully at him and stepped into the hallway. Black garbage bags lined the wall. Frowning, I checked all of the rooms downstairs and saw the aftermath of my father’s destruction. All of the precious things belonging to my mother, the photo frames and ornaments and antiques she loved to collect, all of them were gone. I guessed they were in the rubbish bags.
Sadness enveloped me. I had done that. I had provoked my father and pushed him to the limit. But he had been taking me to the edge for years. I hadn’t meant to throw us both off the cliff. With tears in my eyes, I waited for Grim to unseal my bedroom door. Inside, everything was as it should be, except for a note that had been slipped under the door. I picked it up.
Cara, take what you need – just keep out of his way. There’s an envelope in my jewellery box on my dresser. It’s yours.
Love you. X
“Can you two start emptying my drawers?” I asked. “I need to get something from my mother’s room.”
They both seemed happy to help, but I was pretty sure Grim would do all the work while Realtín made a mess.
I headed into my parents’ room, a place I had never been welcome. My father didn’t like me in his space, and that was fine with me. Her old jewellery box was still intact, but I opened it slowly, feeling like a small child about to do something forbidden.
A bulky envelope sat on top of the few pieces of jewellery my mother owned, most of it things Darragh and I had made at school. As I took it, something else caught my eye—a necklace with a medal. Darragh had worn it every day that I could remember. He had only taken it off to die. I sucked in a breath before picking up the necklace, too. I held it tightly in my hand, trying to remember what life felt like when Darragh still lived.
The envelope was full of money and paperwork I might need, like my birth certificate and PPSN information. My mother had been ready for my departure. As I looked through the documents, I noticed a photograph of Darragh and me. I was about nine, and he was in his late teens. He was smiling, but there was an emptiness in his eyes that I might not have noticed if I didn’t know he’d committed suicide a year later. I looked awkward in the photo, my nest of black hair contrasting with Darragh’s blond locks.
In my parents’ room, one photo stood on the bedside table—Darragh and our parents, the three of them smiling and happy. Dad was almost unrecognisable. My longing to have known that man threatened to suffocate me. Darragh was maybe seven or so in the picture, so it had to have been taken before I was born. Mam’s hair was longer. She had started dyeing it, but back then, her hair was a lot lighter than I expected, definitely not as dark as mine. Dad was as fair as Darragh.
A cold feeling filled the pit of my stomach. I left the room before I could form the thought that struggled to pop into my head. I had been pushing it away for a very long time.
I got some bin bags and returned to my room to find Grim and Realtín dancing together. Grim blushed and pulled away when he noticed me, but Realtín spun around by herself as if in a trance.
“She gave me money,” I said. “Not much, but I have savings, and I still have a job, so I should be okay.”
“What about your classes?” Grim asked, which made me smile, considering how little use most of the fae had for human education.
I shrugged. “I’ll finish up the term and figure something out. Maybe go fulltime at work instead. Either way, I can’t stay with Zoe forever.” I dropped the envelope and medal on my bed.
Realtín reached out to grab it. “Ooh, pretty.”
“Don’t touch it!”
She flinched, jerking her hand back.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “It was my brother’s. I just found it. I can’t… I don’t want anything to happen to it.”
“Where is he?” she asked.
I cleared my throat. “He died when I was a kid.” I turned and threw clothes into bags, not paying attention to what I might need.
“Perhaps I can deal with this,” Grim said, gently taking the bag out of my hands. “Why don’t you relax for a few minutes?”
I nodded, close to exploding. Deep down, I had always known the day would eventually arrive. I just hadn’t expected it to happen when I had finally gotten my act together about work and school. I had run wild in my teens, and I was doing my best to grow up, but I just wasn’t ready to be on my own yet.
I sat at my desk and checked my email. V.G. Love had sent me his phone number. I saved it to my phone for later.
I moved to the bookshelves to look at the fake faeries, the things I had collected before I knew the horror behind the beauty. No matter how terrifying life with the fae could be, it was still more than I had on my own.
I spotted something new—a butterfly carved from wood hidden amongst the gaudy faeries. Surprised, I reached for the beautiful figure. Dad had insisted he heard footsteps in my room. Maybe someone had been there to leave… a gift? I held the butterfly close to my chest, unable and unwilling to put it back. Finally, I put it in my bag and went to help Grim, feeling invigorated for no real reason. We sorted everything, and he promised the fae would come for the rest of my stuff.
“The boxes under my bed… they’re pretty important to me, Grim.”
He nodded. “I’ll protect t
hem myself.” He patted my hand. “New beginnings can be terrifying, but sometimes the best things are born from the darkest days.”
He looked at me pointedly, and I assumed he meant his relationship with Realtín. They had stuck by each other even when life hadn’t seemed worth living, and that had helped them survive.
“You’re right,” I said. “I can get through this. It’s not a big deal. I have friends, I have a job, and I might even get to finish my course. There are a million ways I could be worse off. I’m just being—” I froze at the sound of scratching at the window.
“What’s wrong?” Grim asked, tying up a bag.
“I thought I heard something. A cat maybe.” I chewed on my thumbnail and moved to the window. A shadow flew by, and I stepped back quickly. “I think something’s out there.”
“I’ll go,” Realtín said. “It’s likely the guard. Don’t worry.”
But fear had gripped my heart. It pounded in my chest, and the emotion was exhilarating. Grim made to move to the window as Realtín flew out of the room, but I yanked him back by the arm.
“Don’t,” I whispered. “Something’s not right. I can’t—”
A cat’s yowl made us both jump.
Grim frowned. “Maybe it was just—”
The window shattered, and a dark figure flew into the room. The glass had splintered inward, sending shards spraying across the room. I shielded my face with my hands, unable to remember how I had gotten on the floor.
The figure didn’t have wings, but it had claws. It slashed out, and I backed up in a hurry.
Grim threw a bag at the fae attacker. “Run!”
The attacker was over six feet tall. I couldn’t leave Grim to face him alone. I grabbed a camogie stick that I had flung carelessly on the floor while packing. I swung it at the fae’s head. Its hood fell as it avoided the blow, exposing a wretchedly ugly face. I swung again, but the fae grabbed the stick and shoved back. The momentum sent me flying against my desk.
Grim stabbed the fae in the leg with something, but the fae barely reacted except to strike back. Grim was flung into my bookcase. He lay slumped against it as the ceramic faeries tumbled on top of him.
“Grim!” I cried.
The attacker advanced on me. I reached onto my desk, wildly grabbing for anything I could use as a weapon. My hand landed on a can of deodorant. The fae gripped the back of my neck and yanked me toward it. It opened its vile mouth, revealing rotting fangs. Two were longer than the rest, the only ones not falling to pieces. It leaned forward to bite, so I held up the can and pressed the trigger.
The spray went into its eyes—a direct hit! The creature yelped and loosened its hold. I scrambled away, cutting the palms of my hands on the glass scattered across my bedroom floor.
I heard the fae coming after me, so I grabbed a larger piece with two hands and rolled over onto my back. I slashed as the fae leapt at me.
As the blood pumped from the wound across its neck, I realised what I had done. I had only meant to slow the thing and protect myself. With a little scream, I pushed and crawled, trying to get away from the blood and the dying fae. It slumped on top of me, drowning me in murky-looking blood.
It seemed as if I kicked at the body for hours, trying to break free. I whimpered when Brendan walked in with Realtín. His eyes widened as he took in the scene. I pointed at Grim, and Realtín went into a frenzy.
“He’s fine,” Brendan said. “Realtín! Tell Sorcha to hurry.” He rolled the body off of me and frowned. “A rotting pooka. What were they thinking sending it here?” He lifted me to my feet. “Are you all right?”
I nodded, but I couldn’t stand on my own. I sat on my bed, making sure I didn’t stain my brother’s medal with pooka blood. I couldn’t think straight. All I could see was an ocean of blood.
“You’re hurt,” Brendan said gently.
“No.” I shook my head vehemently. “It’s… that thing’s blood.”
“Look at your hands. We’ll have to clean you up.”
“I have to go. I have to get back to Zoe. I need to get my stuff out of here before Dad gets back.” I tried to stand, but I wobbled until I sat again.
“We’ll fix this,” he said.
Grim moaned. Realtín flew back into the room, followed by Sorcha.
“Sorcha,” Brendan said, “attend to her hands then take her where she wants to go. Watch over her tonight until the little ones are well enough to return.”
Realtín was tearing her hair out of her head in a panic. Grim smiled at her reassuringly, but she chattered excitedly, unable to snap herself out of the loop she had caught herself in.
Sorcha didn’t look pleased, but she nodded. “Into the bathroom,” she ordered me. “Wash your hands, and I’ll bandage them. Then we leave.”
Grim was trying to calm Realtín, but he had a massive goose egg lump on his head. Brendan was busy instructing a team of fae who stormed through the house as if it were a warzone. My bedroom was destroyed. My house was destroyed. My life was destroyed. I followed Sorcha to the bathroom, feeling as if a chunk of myself had been cut away.
“Next time, run,” the banshee said, closing the door behind us.
I ran the tap and held my hands under the faucet. The wounds were deep, but I barely felt the sting. I was too wired. “He would probably have killed Grim if I had.”
“So?”
I turned to stare at her. She was beautiful, but the darkness in her eyes was terrifying. “I care if people live or die.”
“Did you think twice about killing the pooka before he tore out your throat?” she demanded.
“I didn’t mean to kill him.”
“You didn’t mean to…” She threw her hands in the air. “How have you humans managed to survive this long? ‘Didn’t mean to kill him.’” She snorted. “Next time, mean it. Brendan’s depending on you, and we’re all depending on him. Don’t mess it up.”
I finished cleaning my hands and turned off the tap.
“Don’t dry them,” she snapped, rummaging in her bag.
She took out some old-looking material and slapped it against my palm. I winced with pain, but a soothing effect happened immediately. The material pulsed and changed colour from beige to green.
“What is that?” I asked, holding my hand up to the light.
“It’ll eat any infection,” she said, pressing a second piece against my other palm.
“It’s alive?”
“Your wounds will keep it alive for a while. It’ll die and fall away when the skin knits together again.”
“So… what do I do with it then?”
She glared at me. “Throw it away, girl.”
I made to leave, but she held my wrist and squeezed.
“Let me go.”
“You know what I am,” she said. “If you betray him in any way, I’ll bring death to your family and friends. You’ll do whatever he says. If you don’t, everyone dies. Do you understand me?”
“Brendan will—”
She slapped my cheek. I tried my best not to flinch under her glare.
“Nobody can stop death,” she hissed. “When I invite it, it comes, and it isn’t picky about who it takes with it. You will do anything that’s required of you, and when it’s over, when Brendan’s forgotten all about you, I’ll consider letting you live. Now get out of here. I may have to spend the night with you, but that doesn’t mean I don’t get to entertain myself. Bother me once, and your friend won’t wake up in the morning. Do you get it now?”
I nodded sullenly. She would keep all of her promises. I could see it in her eyes.
Chapter Fourteen
I was awakened by tiny hands pinching my nose. I slapped Realtín away. “Stop that!”
“Huh? Cara? You awake?” Zoe’s voice was muffled by her duvet, but when she sat up in the dark and stared at me, I couldn’t pretend to be asleep.
“Yeah, sorry. Bad dream.”
“No worries. Sorry I was late home. Lost track of time. Mam said you had ba
ndages on your hands. What happened?”
“Oh, I was clumsy and broke a glass.”
“Ouch. You should have come over to Darren’s. He was so funny earlier. Have you ever seen…?” She fell asleep, snoring lightly as her head hit the pillow.
“Realtín!” I whispered.
“Oh, how can you stand listening to her? She grates on me. Besides, we wanted to talk to you. Stupid human waking up whenever there’s a sound. What’s wrong with her?”
“You promised you would be nice to her.”
She held up a finger. “Ah-ah. I have never promised that. I keep promises. I said I would try. And I did try. But she’s too much for anyone.”
“We’re sorry for waking you,” Grim said. “We wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“Apart from the banshee threatening everyone I know, I’m great. Can she bring death? I mean, is that a thing, or was she bluffing?”
“Banshees court death,” Grim said. “It follows them around. I would take a banshee’s threat very seriously.”
“That’s what I was afraid of. How did it go after I left? Did you find out who sent the pooka?”
“No,” Grim said. “The king is very angry. And a little confused.”
“Confused?”
“This is the third attack on you. There have been no attacks on his life. It doesn’t make a lot of sense to him.”
“I’m just so popular,” I said with a sigh. “Did my parents go home?”
“They were delayed for a while, but all’s well now. We cleaned up your room as best we could and resealed the bedroom door. I asked the king to glamour the window so it appears unbroken. We thought you wouldn’t want to deal with yet another problem within your family.”
“You rock. What happened to the guard? I thought there were always some hanging around.”
Grim exchanged a worried glance with Realtín. “Apparently, there was some mix-up, and the pooka got close enough to attack.” He touched his head.