Demon Day (33 page)

I lifted my chin, refusing to be
afraid. I turned my head, the iron burning a trail along my
cheekbone as I did, and locked my gaze with Breandan’s.

Time halted, and I saw
desperation in his eyes.
Fight.
His voice echoed in my head.

I was so tired, weak. I couldn’t do it
anymore. I was not strong enough to keep fighting for a life I was
not even sure I wanted. Something as big as being the fairy
Priestess was too big for me … too big for Rae.

Ro stopped trying to open the box and
shouted at Cleric Tu through the glass, banging his palm against
it. He cocked his leg up to kick at the keypad in an attempt get
the door to slide open.

My defeat, my acceptance of
the end had Breandan sinking to his knees.
Please.
He pressed his palm to the
glass.
For him.

My breath caught in my throat and I
heard my own heart stop. Breandan tried in desperation to coax me
into fighting again. I knew of whom he spoke. How could he not see,
not know how absolutely infatuated and devoted I was? My eyes
almost closed but snapped open when the fear of dying in darkness
instead of basking in silver light came to mind.

With death breathing down my neck once
again, I acknowledged the truth I was too terrified to say aloud. I
would live for him, and no other. No one else would ever hold as
much appeal, and not because of the bond, but because of who he
was. The boy who would risk his life to save a vampire he hated to
make me happy. The one who would turn his back on everything he had
ever known to have a chance at being with me.

“
For you,” I whispered as
my eyes drifted closed.

Cleric Tu breathed in deeply, I heard
his finger slip onto the trigger to cradle it. The man was basking
in my death before it had even happened. To think all the respect I
had once had for him.

Pain exploded in front of my
eyes.

Selfish!

Fight him.

It was not loud, but
unfalteringly, and unreservedly present in the hushed reverence of
the moment of my death. Invigorated and incensed by emotion fed
through the bond, I stood, faster than light, and pivoted on the
ball of my foot. Gasp.
Tu looked down at
the empty space in of his hands. Thump
.
I twisted his hand back. Click. The
gun exploded.

I did not see the bullet tear through
his skin. I heard it. The flesh of his stomach caved in and blew
out his back spattering his guts on the glass behind.

Eyes wide, face etched in shock he
staggered back.

The gun clattered to the
floor.

I stumbled back, barely registering my
own movement, my mind struggling to catch up with my
body.

I knew the very last thought that
passed through his mind. This death was not meant to be his. He was
so sure he had me; that he had won. The good guys always won didn’t
they? Demon fairies with symbols of evil pressed into their
foreheads couldn’t defeat a paragon of virtue like him.

“
You’re wrong,” I said.
“I’m a better person than you are, and you were wrong.”

He slipped on his own guts and hit the
floor with a dull thud. He would not be getting back up
again.

Tears threatened to fall and I forced
them down. I had never taken a life before and it brought me no
joy, but I could not deny I was grimly satisfied.

My shoulder flared in pain and I
rotated it to help ease the mild hurt that soon smoothed out into
nothing as my body healed. I was covered in aches and pains though
none were as pressing as the one in my heart. I needed to get out
of here.

I walked to the wall and
lay my forehead and palms against it, hearing a tiny clink as my
circlet hit the glass. Gods, I was tired, but stronger at his side,
even with the iron seeping from the glass. Magics shot out from my
fingertips, fed from the bond. I gave a mirthless laugh. So simple.
If I had turned to the bond in the first place … if I had
understood what Breandan was
really
trying to say when I was spiraling into panic I
could have done this the first moment I’d been trapped. The glass
chimed, a high note of sound before it cracked, a spider web racing
along the cloudy surface. The cage shattered, and glass rained down
on us in sharp slivers that bounced off our skin and settled in our
hair and clothes like deadly snowflakes.

The bond steeply increased in urgency
until it was an acute pain. Lust had me panting in want. I
trembled, and bit my lip, knowing he was going to touch me, and
knowing I was going to simply smash to pieces once he
did.

Breandan groaned and reached
out.

Distant, as if heard through fog a
fierce roar rang in my ears.

Conall leapt into view and rammed into
Breandan. I felt the gush of shifted air as my fairy’s fingers
curled by my arm – sparks crackling between us as he almost touched
me – before he was gone. Conall’s attack carried them both away
from me and hollowed out a crater of dirt as they smashed into the
ground and skid across it. He rolled with my brother trying to pin
him down.

I stumbled forward; the bond was a
steel chain tugging me closer, my own need pushing me to connect.
But when Conall yanked Breandan’s arm back his shoulder buckled.
Breandan’s silent scream shunted his focus onto his own pain,
shifting it from me, and allowed me enough distance to break the
bonds overwhelming influence and reel myself in.

A prickle of energy rolled over my
skin and magic swooped past to settle close by. I frowned. It felt
weak, a pool of power I could wield without thinking.

I remembered.

Ana.

Her spell gathered force.

Conall had Breandan in a submissive
headlock, and since I was able to cling to thoughts of helping my
friends, I turned away and vaulted off the platform.

As I ran back to where I had left Ana,
the Clerics attacking us stumbled back, their eyes fixed on the
body inside the ring of glass that had been the cage. The closer to
Ana I got I noticed the smattering of Clerics were torn between
being afraid of me, and whatever the white witch was doing. Annoyed
at how long it was taking me to reach her, I jumped; beat my wings
twice to sail across the rest of the courtyard twenty feet in the
air. Wind whistled in my ears and blew my hair back as I fell and
landed in a silent crouch. My tail flicked about above my head and
I tucked my wings neatly against my back.

Ana stood rigid, arms out wide and
blonde tresses tossing about her face in the wind. Her body
smoldered in black flames that licked the space around her and
protected her like a shield.

Disciples surrounded her, faces
twisted beyond recognition, but they held back,
hesitated.

Tomas paced forward his eyes locked on
the Clerics surrounding me.

An eerie silence came upon the
courtyard, like everyone waited for something.

The dark magic suffocating the light
reverted and crushed together until it formed into a tall, willowy
silhouette. Each pulse of magic that flowed into it made it denser
until I could make out the figure was male.

Tomas recoiled. He backed away into a
shadow, crouching down and baring his fangs. His darkness cloaked
him until I saw nothing but his red-rimmed eyes gleaming
faintly.

“
Be gone, he-witch,” Ana
hissed and the herbs combusted into sickly green flames.
“
A bheith imithe
,”
she cried and with a wave of her hand ordered a gust of wind to
carry the be-spelled smoke into the face of the phantom
figure.

The body of shadows steadily grew in
power and potency until his blurry edges sharply came into focus.
Transparent and shrouded in darkness he ignored Ana, and his
cloaked head slowly turned until he stared straight at me. His head
tilted in greeting and I took a step forward. A cloaked arm lifted
until the shadow-cloth fell back, and a strong palm stopped me in
my tracks.

The voice that greeted me
was smooth and reverent in tone, “
Feicim
tú, deirfiúr
.” He turned his gaze back to
Ana. “Daughter, you cannot banish me.” The figure sighed.
“
Gach gur éirigh idir linn go bhfuil
dearmad a dhéanamh
. My child, come home.
Your Coven misses you.” The voice was melodic and rolled over me
smoothly. I had not heard a voice so appealing unless it came from
the lips of a fairy.

Ana blanched.
“
Ní féidir liom ar ais.
I’m with my family,” she whispered back.

The figure crackled with power and
disapproval. “Move out of my way. I have no wish to harm you, but
there is only so far you can push me.”

I noticed Ana’s hand bled, blood
dripped off her lax fingertips onto her altar. The puddle of blood
forming beneath the green flames boiled and turned black as I
watched.

The white witch seemed unable to look
away from the hooded figure.

Reaching out with my senses I was able
to easily feel the link between her and the he-witch’s dark power.
Of course she couldn’t banish him. It was blood, the life-force of
all things that fed this he-witch. She had tried to banish one of
her own kind, but instead of being overcome by her power the figure
fed off her to become stronger. I could see it, his power leeching
on hers, making it weaker by the moment.

Ana had been right. It should not have
been her to cast the counter spell.

In five strides, I came to her side
and snatched the dagger from her loose fist. I sliced the curved
blade across my forearm deeply, grunting at the pain. The blood
flowed like a river and I felt a moment’s light-headedness. Next
time I would slice my palm that was for sure. I felt magic take
hold of me in a vice like grip and start to suck on my remaining
energy. Without having released the pressure of the bond with
Breandan, or recharging after my hellish experience with Cleric Tu,
I was weak and getting weaker.

Holding my bleeding arm over the green
flames I mumbled, “My blood,” I grabbed Ana’s hand to slice it
open. “His blood.” She shrieked and tried to pull away, but I
dragged her down with me as my knees gave out. I sliced Zoe’s
shoulder threw the dagger away and placed our blood soaked hands
over the cut. “Their blood.”

Great, now what?

“
By my power by my right,”
Ana muttered in my ear, her eyes locked defiantly on the
he-witch.

“
By my power! By my right,
I–”

Black magic punched me in the face. I
choked on my words, head snapping back.

Ana grabbed my shoulders and hauled me
upright. Digging into the pouch at her waist she pulled out some of
that green gunge she’d once made me eat before and forced it past
my pressed lips. Knowing I needed the energy I swallowed and a wave
of healing magic over me.

The phantom quivered, and the wide
cowl was blown back to reveal an enthrallingly handsome man with
dark hair streaked with honey-blonde. He had shimmering white orbs
for eyes with striking gold irises, multifaceted like jewels. An
amused smile curved his lips as his gaze rested on my wings. His
expression was full of contempt and utter
self-confidence.

I looked down at Ana who cowered at my
side. She looked the splitting image of him, the same nose, and
soft brow with a high forehead and distinct widow’s peak. However,
whilst Ana’s face was covered in a sickly sheen of sweat, his was
dry as ash, and contorted in rage when he looked upon her
again.

Scrambling to gather my wits and deal
with everything going on around me, I inhaled slowly, focusing on
finishing the spell. What was I supposed to say next? Ana was in no
fit state to stand let alone speak. I exhaled sharply and lifted my
chin. Gathering magic to me, it thrust through the air in lances of
bright light, cutting through the dark. It whirled like living
twine, flickering and pulsing with energy.

Keeping it simple seemed to work for
me and I simply hissed, “Leave!”

He screeched – hands flying out to the
side – and imploded. The particles of slate gray left in his wake
twisted into a whirlwind and took off into the sky.

As one, the Disciples screamed – a
tortured, mewling cry – and clawed at their skin. First, one fell
trembling, another, arms and legs thrashing, and another
convulsing, as vicious smoke seeped from their ears, eyes, and
mouths to join into a cloud of poison above our heads.

“
Rae,” Ana’s voice was
strangled. “Burn it,” she choked. She hunched down and placed her
hands on her head. “Cleanse the sky with fire.” She raised her
voice and infused it with power so it rang loud and clear. She
shouted, “Hold!”

Conall, Breandan, and Alec all dropped
their opponents, stopped, and stared at her. Then their eyes turned
to me.

My wings unfurled – shining a
brilliant gold – a beacon in the raging madness surrounding us.
Still the ropes of power snaked around me like a protective shield
and glowed brighter.

Alec grabbed the shifter-twins – both
still in cat form with a twitchy Runt between them – by the scruff
of the neck and pushed them down flat. To my surprise he shouted to
Maeve who was busy with two Clerics, the arrows from her bow flying
at a speed I struggled to follow. One came up behind her as she
slipped her bow behind her back, the string resting across her
chest, seemingly unaware of the danger from behind. The Cleric
lifted his gun and Maeve reached behind her grabbed him by the
wrist and flung herself forward sending him hurtling across the
courtyard like a cannonball. He crashed into two of his crimson
shrouded allies on the way whilst Maeve nimbly rolled back up onto
her feet. She was so focused she did not hear Alec yelling at her
as she readied her bow again.