Blackbirds & Bourbon (8 page)

“Kill her.
Now
. I want her head.”

“Hey, let’s not be hasty,” I say, stepping away from the throne, looking around, thinking desperately for something else to say, but for once coming up blank. Thank goodness I didn’t come here with only my mouth for backup.

My fingers slip deep into my old coat pocket to the tiny piece of paper that warms as my fingers pinch it, activating the spellwork contained within.

There are gasps around the chamber as yours truly disappears from sight. I smile and flip off the man on the throne, even though he can’t see me as I walk past on tiptoes. I’d like to snatch the truth stone back, but I can’t take the chance. Getting the fuck out of Dodge is my first and only order of business now.

Cerunnos shakes his head, looking weirdly pleased, his gaze a few paces off of where I actually am. I’m poised to sprint for the opening in the mountain when his next words freeze me in place.

“I take it you still see her, Tyr.”

I spin around. Tyr is staring directly at me, only a step away, his eyes blank as he raises that cursed blade. “Yes,” he murmurs.

Oh shit. I always knew the invisibility spellwork was a long shot, but now that I’m faced with the consequences of my actions, I can’t seem to catch my breath. My stomach drops to my toes. An odd glow encases the weapon from hilt to tip, like flames made of crimson shadow.

This is what I had expected to happen, though I hadn’t admitted it to myself when I walked out of T&T this morning. Maybe I even wanted it to happen. All because I was scared my nightmare version of Luna was right.

A clean end might be best. At least then no one else will get hurt.

Except me, of course.

With a deep breath, I lift my chin and look Tyr in the eye. “You keep that thing properly sharp, yeah? Wouldn’t want to be hacked at with a dull blade.”

The assassin doesn’t smile or return my banter, his lips pressed in a tight line, his gaze like black glass. Tyr has tried to save me more than once, but whatever his monetary motivations, I’m pretty sure this time he’ll have no choice but to follow through.

Whatever the assassin’s thinking, it doesn’t show on that dark face. When he cuts the sword at my throat, I dodge instinctively, but it’s already too late. With a clever back slice, Tyr sends the tip of the blade slicing deep into my hip and stomach. The steel is colder than I expected and my mouth opens in surprise. It happens so fast it doesn’t feel real.

Until my blood splatters to the floor. There is no pain, only a wave of heat and a sudden weakness that has me going to my knees again. The fall feels like it takes forever, but it must be hard and fast because my glasses fly off my nose and shatter on the rock as the world tilts sideways and my cheek slams into stone. Tyr’s sword flares above me blazing white, except for my blood licking along the edges.

Dammit. I wish I could’ve kissed Jack one more time. Even if he is a bastard, I would’ve liked to take the taste of his lips with me.

The blade descends, like a sparkler streaking against a summer sky…

The
next thing I know, Carly’s voice is in my ear. “C’mon, Seph. Wake up.”

There is no cold stone floor beneath me, no sword above. We’re hauling ass down Highway 61 in Ana’s Volvo. At least I assume we are. With my glasses gone, everything is a semi-diffused blur that makes me feel sick. Shit. Being without my glasses gives me vertigo worse than riding with Jack on the wind. Combined with what just happened, this is not a good mix.

“Pull over. I’m going hurl.” A minute later, I’m dry heaving over and over above the dirty snow at the side of the road, Carly’s arm around my shoulder, her hand gently holding back my hair.

The next word out of my mouth is the obvious one. “How?”

“You butt dialed us.”

I rub a hand over my mouth, staring at her. She shrugs, but her face is so pale I can see every freckle.

“It’s true. We could hear everything. Jett finally showed up in time to get you out of there. But as soon as she knew you were gonna be okay, she took off. Something is definitely up with her. Jack was here, too, but he left a few minutes ago. Said he needed to get something. What were you thinking, Seph?”

I shake my head, swaying.
How do I answer that?

Throwing an arm around my shoulders, she leads me back to the car. I lean back against it weakly, unwilling to go back inside where I can see Ana talking agitatedly into her cell. I take in deep lungfuls of freshly minted air. There is a low-level burn in my gut and along my hip, but I can tell Carly’s healing is nearly complete.

“I wanted answers.”

“Yeah. Jack said.” Her accusing look makes me wince, but Carly isn’t one to go off. I’m sure she’s leaving that to Ana.

I sigh. “That man, Cerunnos. Have you heard of him?”

She shakes her head slowly, red-gold curls glowing in the bright sunshine. But a line forms between her delicate brows. “No…but it sounds familiar somehow. Like a name I should know but that I’ve forgotten.” Her voice trails off and she looks out over the lake, shining now in the dazzling light, a satin blue handkerchief dusted with glitter.

“Tyr killed me. Or he would’ve if you all hadn’t shown up.” I’m still having a hard time with that. Yes, he’s an assassin and all, but the guy has had numerous opportunities to end me and he’s always pulled his punches. Why go for the gold star now?

“We heard, Seph.” For the first time her voice takes on an edge. “We were going crazy, not knowing how to get to you. Ana couldn’t see you at all. Said you dropped off the face of the earth. Then Jett finally showed up and apparated in. Jack found us just after she brought you out. He stumbled from the woods right next to where we were parked. He was way pissed. Something about a satyr?”

“Yeah. Kevin. He’s probably dead.” Or not. A knife through the jugular isn’t necessarily permanent. Not for an FTC.

“I can’t believe Luna did that to you.” Her eyes are quiet and sad.

“Yeah, me, too, sissie. Me fucking too.”

There is a stirring of wind and suddenly Jack appears next to me, bringing with him the smell of pine and smoke…and blood.

His sweater is still torn and dirty, speckled with red-brown streaks of drying blood, damp and dingy. His hair is standing up in dark, jagged spikes, as if he’s been running his hands through it again, and his eyes are a bit wild. I can’t move, my insides tight and still as I stare at him. I think of everything that nasty Cerunnos said.

Carly clears her throat and slides into the passenger seat without a word, closing the door.

“Hey,” Jack reaches out, pressing something into my limp hands, curling my fingers around hard edges that feel familiar. I look down.

It’s my spare glasses. The old ones I keep in the top drawer of my dresser. I blink at them, then up at him, my throat closing. “Did you sneak into my room to get these?” I squeak.

He shrugs, and even I can tell the nonchalance is feigned. My sisters aren’t the only ones I scared today. “I could put them back.”

I slip them on, sighing in relief as everything comes back into focus and my stomach finally starts to settle. “Thanks,” I say quietly, slumping back against the car, listening to the lake and the gentle hiss of wind.

“Cerunnos took back the stone.” Jack says after a moment and I can feel his eyes on my face.

“Well, it practically jumped out of my pocket to get to him.” 

Jack shakes his head slowly. “I doubt that. It was probably Loki.”

“Loki? It was dark in that cave, but I’m pretty sure I would’ve noticed Tom Hiddleston hanging around.”

Folding his arms, Jack gives me an exasperated look. I shrug, but now I’m remembering that soft laugh behind me, right after the stone rolled free. That flash of a smile somewhere between cruel and insane. I know Loki’s real and all. Most of Norse mythology is. Jack himself is one of their oldest stories, but I’ve never met one of the actual
gods
. They tend to stay in Europe, closer to their origins, where they’re stronger.

“Loki’s on the Dark Council?”

“In a manner of speaking.” Jack looks annoyed. “He hangs out anywhere he can be assured of making trouble. He must have sensed the stone on you and decided to have some fun.”

I don’t really give a shit about Loki. I care that my one foolproof shot at beating the Council’s inquiry is gone. I’m furious at myself, or I would be if I weren’t so damn tired. It isn’t Loki’s fault I lost the stone. It’s mine. If I had let Merry take me home, or Jack …or just resisted Ivo and Kevin in the first place. I sigh and watch the water. “So it was Cerunnos’s stone all along. That’s what you meant in the cave?”

Jack sighs. “Yes. Tyr must have stolen it from him. If Cerunnos finds out it was Tyr, he’s dead.”

“Couldn’t Cernunnos just force me to hold the stone and tell him who gave it to me?”

“Doesn’t work like that, princess. You have to take the stone and answer of your own free will. The answers can’t be forced.” He hesitates. “Did Cerunnos say anything else? I only heard the last few seconds.”

Huh.
Talk about fishing, Jack.

“Nothing much I didn’t already know.” I tilt my head, trying to figure out his expression. It’s not like I trusted Jack before and it’s not like I can believe anything the leader of the Dark Council said either, but I feel like some of the knots unraveling between us have twisted up again. I don’t want Jack here.

He looks at me, eyes shuttering as if he heard my unspoken words. “I should go.”

“Yes. I imagine Cerunnos will want to know where you were for the excitement.”

He gives me a look that I can’t begin to read. “Tell me, was this worth getting your precious answers, princess?”

Jack’s gone before I can reply, but we both know I got nothing but more questions. Along with an ache in my gut that goes deeper than the cut Tyr’s fucked-up sword made. Not to mention a new resolve.

The despair is still there, like a bad taste in the back of my throat. But I swallow it down. With or without the stone, I’m not giving up so easily again.

And if it does come down to letting those fuckers take me out, I’m at least going to take a few of them with me.

Night is falling before we pass Brighton Beach and slide back into town. Few roads but the main ones are cleared yet, but Carly manages some subtle magic that clears ours as Ana drives. To my surprise, my oldest sister hasn’t said much. Maybe having a female alpha try to gut her softened Ana up some. Or maybe the silent treatment is Ana’s way of driving home the guilt festering inside me. I’m betting on the latter.

“I’m going to bed,” I announce to the car at large before heading into the house, slamming my door behind me. Neither Carly nor Ana move. I assume they’re going to talk about me amongst themselves. I don’t even care.

Much.

I feel hollow inside. Carved up and empty.

Jett’s at the kitchen table when I go by, cleaning her sword. I can’t help a shiver at the sight of her crystal blade. I’ve had enough of swords. She beat us home, but then her power makes that easy. She may have been dozens of places since she left us. I wonder where she’s been disappearing so much lately and why. But my own bullshit doesn’t leave room for figuring out hers.

The overheard light gleams on her black hair, lending the jagged ends a bluish cast. Is it my imagination or does she look a little pale? She’s wearing a black ribbed tank with the T&T logo. The sleek muscles in her arms flex under the colorful tapestry that is her skin as she rubs the blade down. Jett isn’t completely sleeved, but nearly. No roses and butterflies for my sister. Her tats are a complex montage of the arcane and familiar. My own face watches me from near the top of her shoulder. Jett had all of us inked on her left arm years ago. Mom is in the middle, and the rest of my sisters and I float in the tendrils of her hair, like the faces of mermaids peeping out through drifting seaweed. Right now all those eyes look accusing.

Jett lifts an eyebrow but doesn’t look at me. “What? You waiting around for a lecture or something? That’s not really my forte. I’m sure Ana will oblige, though, if you hang out for much longer.”

“No, thanks, I’m going to bed. But I wanted to say—I mean, Carly told me you got me out of there, so—”

“Spare us both the gratitude thing. Carly saved your life, not me. Snatching you from under Tyr’s nose is all the thanks I need. You should have seen his face. Assassin of the realm, my ass.” With a smirk, she lifts her blade, twisting it this way and that to examine the cutting edge for nicks. I’ve seen this ritual more times that I can remember. It’s almost soothing. Light spills down the crystal surface, casting little slices of rainbows on the kitchen walls. Jett’s sword is a lot like Tyr’s, both longswords, both beautiful and very deadly. Though neither is as deadly as their respective owners.

I eye my sister, wondering what she thinks about what happened today, or about the inquiry, or about any of it, really. Jett’s always been our enigma. Kind of like Stephen is to the bruins. The one no one can ever quite figure out. I know she cares about me in an abstract sort of way, but I can’t tell if she’s mad right now or not.

I linger in the doorway, unable to leave, but not sure why.

She blows out a breath, making me jump. Jett sets her sword on the table with a graceful flick of her wrist and glares at me from under her fringe. “Stop looking at me like that. We both know what you did today. And while the protective older sister role isn’t really one I embrace, you try that shit again, Seph, and it won’t be Tyr’s sword you’ll have to worry about.”

Alrighty then. At least I know where we stand. “I love you, too, Jett.”

She snorts and flips me the bird. With a tired smile, I turn away. But not before I see her other hand tighten on the hilt of her sword, gripping it so tightly her knuckles turn white. I flinch.

I can take Jett being pissed. Jett being scared? Not so much.

My guilt and I make our way up the stairs. I’m so drained by now every movement seems dream-like and slow.

Then a sylph glides out of a painting in the upstairs hall, nearly stopping my heart. Cool, green and slender, like a tree waving in a strong wind, she moves around the corner and vanishes from sight. Carly and her freaking murals. You think I’d be used to it by now, but nope. Before I can move again, I hear the tinkle of wings. Fairy wings. Lots and lots of them.

A sparkling purple cloud of fairies forms on one wall, blossoming and then shrinking, swirling like a flock of starlings. They flow toward the ceiling, dissipating until only one is left. Violet-blue wings like those of a dragonfly dart down the plaster toward me, looking all too familiar.

Each pair of fairy wings is distinctive, like a fingerprint, no two exactly the same color or shape. They also come with a unique sound and I’ve heard this one all too often in the last month. “Rochie?”

Like a bubble being blown from the paint, the fairy emerges and starts to peel herself from the wall. Her upper body first, along with her wings. Wings that stretch and stretch until it looks like they may snap in two. But finally the tips break loose, flapping madly, her lower body still trapped by one small foot in the wall, as if it’s stuck in a mud puddle.

With a curse, the fairy grabs her knee in both hands and gives a mighty tug. Her foot comes free with a light popping sound, like a tiny cork from a bottle. She tumbles ass over teakettle through the air in front of me, the chime of her wings bright and angry.

“How the hell did you do that?” I ask when she finally rights herself. I’ve seen the creatures from Carly’s paintings come to life for years, but never once have I seen a creature that already exists use one as a portal. It freaks me out, or it would, if I weren’t so damn tired.

“Professional secret.” She gives me an arch look, smoothing her disheveled hair.

“So, Carly’s magic lets you in? But it’s just a painting.” I stare at the mural shifting on the wall, the fairy cloud already replaced by a midnight sky dotted with stars.

“It’s magic. And magic is never a one-way street, silly witch. Not that it was a cakewalk, but without your sister’s murals, it’s impossible for me to breach Oriane’s defenses against elemental magic.”

“Jack got in.” Twice now. So did Luna, but Luna isn’t an elemental, either.