Soul

  When he hesitated and pulled away from me, I felt as if the world would end if he didn’t touch me again.

  “Cara,” he said, looking into my eyes, “are you willing?”

  “Yes,” I said without hesitation, reaching for him, a sense of urgency driving me to push harder.

  He met my embrace with his own. I finally understood what living was about, what it meant, and why I couldn’t give up. I had so much to lose, and it would all start with Drake. Too soon.

  I pushed the thought away and filled myself with him instead. With the moment and the possibilities that would never be fulfilled. He held my gaze as he moved inside me, whispered my name in a way I had never heard before, and there was nothing else anymore. Just two souls connecting because they knew they would soon be ripped apart.

  I gripped the headboard and vowed to memorise every second. The light from his wings and the strength in his lean muscle made it impossible to forget he wasn’t human. But the dampness of his skin, the trembling of his fingers brushing the hair from my face, and the way he bit my shoulder to muffle the sound of his pleasure would make it impossible to remember him as anything but a man.

  When it was over, he wrapped me in his arms so fiercely, I didn’t expect him to let me go. I wasn’t ready to be let go.

  “Don’t leave me,” I whispered, despising the desperation in my voice, but hating the thought of never feeling so content again even more. “Fight him, Drake.”

  “I can’t. It would take a miracle. You give me strength, but even falling for you won’t help me when he has his full power again. Say goodbye to me, Cara. He can’t afford to let us be together again, and we can’t blame him for that. Say goodbye. Tell me you’ll walk away when it’s over.”

  I refused, kissing him instead. It was so not a goodbye, but tears ran down my cheeks nonetheless. I would lose it all if I didn’t figure out a way to stop it from happening.

  The way I felt about Drake didn’t make sense. We barely knew each other. But Realtín had once had a quiet, reflective moment in which she had told me it wasn’t important what a person looked like, wasn’t important how well you knew them. Souls knew souls, and that was all that mattered.

  I knew Drake’s soul, and it had marked mine. I couldn’t call it love, not yet, but Grim was right. That whisper of a promise of what might be still existed, and I knew I would find something real with Drake if we were given more time. I would never forget him, no matter what Brendan tried to do.

  Chapter Nineteen

  I awoke when Brendan stirred beside me, somehow knowing Drake was gone. I froze as he ran his hand along my bare skin. He leaned over me, and I felt his breath against my spine. Then he was gone, and I was alone.

  I buried my face in the pillow, curling into a ball as flashbacks of the night before hit me hard and fast. Guilt and shame fought a battle in my gut, and I struggled to keep the nausea at bay. I had never been so confused.

  I woke up some time later and tried the bedroom door. Locked. Sighing, I decided to crack open some books and remind myself there was a normal world out there, but something on my dresser distracted me.

  I went over and stared at another wooden carving, one of a woman looking over her shoulder. She was dressed in an impossibly long gown with her hair pinned to the side with a flower. I stared at it for a long time, my stomach turning. I was afraid to touch it, and even when I sat on the bed, my eyes were drawn to the wooden figure. Finally, I hid it with the butterfly carving.

  An hour later, Grim and Realtín arrived with food.

  “Are you okay?” the sprite demanded in a high-pitched voice, flying around my head in a panic. “He stayed here, didn’t he? We tried, we tried. It wasn’t our fault. Don’t hate us, Cara.”

  Grim’s face was bruised.

  “What happened to you?” I demanded, falling to my knees beside him.

  “They sent us away, locked us up,” Realtín prattled. “We knew he would do something. We tried. Grim fought them, but they…” She gazed at me. “What did he do to you?”

  I shook my head. “You fought them… for me?” I asked Grim.

  He looked away. “I’m sorry. I should have done more.”

  I kissed his cheek. “You’re a good friend. You too, Realtín. I’m okay. I promise. He didn’t hurt me. I… we… things got weird, but I snapped out of it in time. Drake spent the night with me then.”

  “The king let him?” Realtín squeaked.

  I shook my head. “He didn’t have a choice. Drake was stronger than Brendan was.”

  “How is that possible?” Grim asked.

  The black cat strolled into the room before I could answer.

  “You,” I said. “You were there last night, weren’t you?” I gave the cat a treat. “Thanks for the help, kitty.”

  I turned to see Grim and Realtín exchanging a confused look.

  “Never mind,” I said. “Where’s Brendan now?”

  Grim shuffled his feet, looking uncomfortable. “He’s working. He’s not… in a good mood. He wants us to keep you out of his way for a while.”

  I wasn’t sure how to feel about that. “Any sign of Drake?”

  He shook his head, and my heart fell.

  “Do you think Drake can see me through Brendan’s eyes?”

  Grim nodded. “Of course.”

  “Then I need to talk to him.”

  “But Brendan said—”

  “I know. I still have to talk to him.” I started to leave, but the door was locked again. “What the hell? Why are they locking me in?”

  “I don’t know,” Grim said. “Brendan never said—”

  The cat freaked out, howling and spitting. The hair on the back of his neck stood right up, making him look twice his normal size.

  “Something’s not right,” I said. “The cat knows things.”

  Realtín stopped flying to stare in my face. “Cara, are you the—”

  The bedroom window opened slowly, but nobody was there.

  I blew out a breath. “Grim, Realtín, get out of here.”

  “We can’t leave you,” Grim said.

  “Get Brendan. Go!”

  Realtín rushed to the door, kicking and punching it as she screeched for help. The cat yowled, and we all stared at the window. An impossibly large hooded figure slipped through it, dagger in hand. I glanced around for something, anything, to use as a weapon. The cat jumped onto the sill then disappeared.

  The figure lowered the hood. She was a warrior faery, and the look she gave me wasn’t full of anger or hate. It wasn’t personal, just a task she had to attend to. “Come,” she said. “We must leave.”

  “What?”

  She held out her hand. “I’m rescuing you, human.”

  I shook my head, stepping back. “I don’t need rescuing.”

  “You’re locked in, a prisoner.” Her voice sounded dull, as if coming for me was the least exciting thing she had ever done in her life. “Come willingly. I’m not leaving you behind.”

  “No. I’m not a prisoner. It’s a mistake. I have something to do here.” Sometimes my purpose wasn’t clear, but the idea of leaving Drake, Brendan, everyone behind felt as though it might twist my heart right out of my chest. Maybe it was the magic talking, but I didn’t care anymore.

  She cocked her head, observing me keenly. Her gaze flickered to Realtín. “You should be gone by the time I’m done with her.”

  Grim stepped in front of me, but I pulled him back. I opened my mouth to speak, but the warrior advanced on me. She moved lazily, knowing I had nowhere to run. I scooped up Grim in one arm and snapped Realtín out of the air. I bundled them both into the bathroom and locked the door behind us.

  “Shit, shit, shit! What do we do?”

  “That is a daoine sídhe,” Grim said solemnly, as if he had already accepted the certainty of his death. “If help doesn’t come, we are lost. My magic won’t keep that door closed for long. The heroic fae are the giants of old, Cara. They always complete their quests. Not
hing will stop them. This is no pooka. You should have gone with her.”

  “I can’t leave!”

  Something slammed against the door.

  Realtín flew around in a panic. “This is hopeless. We can’t fight a giant!”

  “Well, we have to do something,” I said, opening cabinet doors in a desperate attempt to find a weapon. “Where’s the stupid guard when we actually need him?” I found a small pair of scissors and handed them to Grim.

  “This won’t stop a daoine sídhe,” he said.

  “I know.” I spotted an air vent high on the wall. Maybe Realtín could at least escape. I stood on the edge of the bath, flinching every time the door was struck and warped a little more. The warrior would be with us soon.

  I took the scissors and used one of the blades to unscrew the vent. I yanked off the cover and my nail in the process. The vent was too small for Grim.

  “Realtín, go.”

  “I can’t leave him,” she said in a small voice.

  “Then get him help,” I said in a commanding voice.

  So used to orders was she that she flew away immediately. I jumped down and lifted Grim into the air before he could protest. I shoved him into a high cabinet.

  “Be quiet and stay still,” I said. “When she gets into the room, run. Okay? Run the fuck away, Grim. I mean it.”

  He shook his head fiercely.

  “You’re right,” I said slowly. “When she gets in, attack her from behind. But keep quiet first so you surprise her, okay?”

  He nodded eagerly, shuddering as I closed the cabinet door. I pulled the bobbin from my hair and tied it around the handles as silently as I could. Maybe that would keep Grim out of the way long enough for Brendan to help us.

  I turned the water on full heat and held the shower hose. With my other hand, I grabbed the bottle of mouthwash.

  After one more effort by the warrior, the door broke in two. She stepped through, and I tossed some mouthwash at her face. She cried out as it burned her eyes and raised her hands to wipe them. I aimed the hose at her face. She fell back with the force of the water, still rubbing her eyes. The bathroom steamed up as I jumped over her and into the bedroom, heading straight to the window. If she had gotten in, I could get out.

  I reached the frame and looked out at the straight drop. I slipped one leg over the sill, planning to climb down using the ivy, but was pulled back in by the hair. I landed heavily on the floor, catching a quick glimpse of the furious warrior dripping with water, her face red and her eyes bloodshot.

  I scrambled away, but she stomped on my ankle. I crawled a few feet then half-turned and swung with my leg, connecting with her jaw as she bent down to grab me.

  Hearing voices outside, I scooted under the bed as fast as I could. She tugged me back out by my feet and straddled my torso, raising her dagger high.

  I struggled, but she held firm. The door burst open, just as she brought down the dagger. I wriggled enough to avoid the full force of the strike, and the blade sliced into my bicep.

  I felt nothing. Then, I remembered poor Anya, how she was linked to me and bound to feel my pain. I had to stay alive to save her, too.

  Brendan and his bodyguard pulled the daoine sídhe off me, but she broke free as I rose to my feet. She had lost her dagger, but she gripped my throat and squeezed.

  Brendan struck her, but I still couldn’t breathe. My eyes bulged, and the room darkened. I felt no pain, not even much discomfort, as if I were outside of my body, watching. I heard the snap of bone as the bodyguard broke her arm in an attempt to free me. I vaguely wondered why they didn’t just kill her.

  She finally let go, and I backed away, gasping as air filled my lungs. More fae came into the room and helped contain the warrior, but she never stopped fighting.

  “Take her underneath,” Brendan ordered, panting heavily. “Find out who sent her and why.”

  They hauled the warrior fae away, but she fought them off and ran at me again. Before she could reach me, Brendan’s bodyguard punched her in the jaw so hard that she fell to her knees and was finally dragged out of the room.

  I wrapped my arms around Brendan, then thought better of it and backed away to sit on the floor with my back against the bed. “Cut it a bit close there,” I said, taking deep breaths. Almost dying was about as stressful as living. “Thought I was safe here?”

  “You’re still alive,” Sorcha snapped.

  “Anya,” I whispered, “could she be…?”

  “She’ll be fine,” Brendan said. “She’s tougher than she looks.”

  A rattling sound finally made its way into my awareness. “Oh, Grim’s still locked in the bathroom cabinet.”

  “Locked in the…? As a punishment?” Brendan asked.

  “He wouldn’t fit through the air vent, so I stuffed him in the cabinet and told him to escape when the warrior got through the door and attacked me. But he wanted to help instead, so I made sure he couldn’t get out. I figured you lot would turn up before the warrior moved on to him.”

  “Grim!” Realtín called, flying into the room, followed by a group of fae.

  “Sorcha, free the brownie before the sprite destroys the room,” Brendan said drily as Realtín knocked over a lamp in her anxiety.

  “I couldn’t find Brendan,” Realtín said. “I got anyone I could. I thought we would be too late.” She flew at me and dropped damp kisses on my cheeks then went into the bathroom after Sorcha.

  “If she didn’t find you, how did you know we needed help?” I asked Brendan.

  “Someone else raised the alarm.”

  I caught his eye. “You hurt Grim.”

  He shook his head. “Not me. People got carried away. It won’t happen twice.”

  I wrapped my arms around my waist, unsatisfied with his ready answer. “I was locked in. Grim and Realtín brought me food, and then somebody locked the door.”

  “I noticed,” he said. “The guard was found unconscious in the hall. He won’t be guarding anyone again.”

  “Grim said it was a daoine sídhe, that they don’t stop until they finish their missions.”

  “She’ll be dead as soon as she talks.”

  “And if she doesn’t talk?”

  “She’ll be dead anyway.” He sat next to me on the floor. “The daoine sídhe don’t usually interfere this way, so this one was either paid very well or threatened very strongly.”

  “She wasn’t alone,” I said. “She couldn’t have locked the door and then come in through the window.”

  “I know.” He hesitated. “The amount of fae around you will have to increase, Cara. You can’t be alone. But I’m beginning to think that the chances of both of us making it aren’t good. I’ve heard more fae than I expected don’t want my return. They think it’s unnatural for me to come back to life.”

  “You didn’t really die, though. You were only banished.”

  “My soul was banished. My body…” He shook his head.

  “I should go home,” I lied. “You don’t really need me, and I’m—”

  “What home? Your parents don’t want you there.”

  “Did you do that?” That fear had been in the back of my mind for a while, but I hated to voice it.

  “No,” he said after a moment. “It was not my work.”

  “I’m not safe with you.”

  “I’m not safe with you either, Cara.”

  “You tried to… you tricked me last night.”

  His lips curved upward. “You knew exactly what would happen. You have a death wish, Cara, a self-destruct button you can’t resist pressing. You don’t know how to be happy, so you use us to destroy yourself.”

  “Drake isn’t—”

  Brendan held up a hand. “He’s going to fade. Then you’ll be worse off than before. I should make you remember just to punish you.”

  I wanted to scream. I wanted to slap him. But he was king of the fae, and I wanted to live.

  “If he cared about you, he wouldn’t have let me touch you,
” he whispered, his voice taunting and cruel. “If he cared, he would never have touched you. You’re addicted to us, Cara. You’re poisoned with an addiction to us, and he’s prolonging it, making it worse for you. You’ll never get over us now. Do you understand me? He’s tainted you for life, and it will drive you mad in the end.”

  “Why do you have to be so cruel?” My breath hitched in my throat.

  “It’s the only thing you seem able to understand.”

  “Screw you,” I hissed, and I strode out of the room.

  Sorcha followed me down the stairs. “I’m to keep an eye on you.”

  “Well, isn’t this just the perfect day?”

  “You should be more grateful. He doesn’t have to go to this trouble to keep you alive.”

  “He doesn’t have to be a prick either,” I snapped.

  “It’s your fault,” she said. “You’re doing something to him. You and Drake together.”

  “He’s in the wrong body. Ever think that might be the problem?”

  She blinked fast. “Every day.”

  “I need some air.” And to find that cat. Who else knew to find help? And nothing was ever as it seemed in the realm of the fae.

  “I have to come with you.”

  “I get it!” I headed down the hall, meaning to leave through the side door, but I heard yowling from outside.

  “Um, Sorcha…”

  Someone large flew into me from an open doorway to my left, slamming me into the wall. Dizzy, I lay on the floor and looked up to see my old bodyguard, the one who had been found unconscious outside my room.

  Sorcha threw back her head and wailed. The noise ran right though me and echoed all around. The guard winced and stumbled a little. His face was bruised and his cheek swollen. He unsheathed his sword and raised it.

  I crawled backward, terrified. He started to swing, laughing like a headcase.

  A sound hissed through the air, and a bolt struck him right in the heart. He fell to his knees, still holding the sword, and I rolled over as it clattered to the ground where I had been lying. I glanced at Sorcha, who had finally stopped making that awful sound, and saw Brendan’s bodyguard next to her, his jaw clenched as he lowered his crossbow.