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Authors: Hailey Edwards

Tags: #Black Dog Series, #Dark Fantasy, #Urban Fantasy, #Hailey Edwards, #new adult, #urban fantasy romance, #dark fantasy romance, #Coming of Age

Old Dog, New Tricks (21 page)

BOOK: Old Dog, New Tricks
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“You saved my bacon, Blue.” I patted the warm flesh of his shoulder. “It’s much appreciated.”

A fleshy pink crest flashed up the length of his neck. Wait—was that a blush?

Palms damp, I clung to him. “Can you understand me?”

The steady bob of his head made my heart pound.

“Can you speak?”

He shook his head and lowered his crest with a resounding
snick
.

Hot damn. I could work with this. Maybe the ogre wasn’t nuts after all.

A shadow spilled over me, blotting out the sun, and I gulped. Blue faltered, his great wings losing their rhythm. Tilting my head back, I cringed away from the Morrigan’s talons. I melted against Blue’s spine and buried my face against my forearm.

What did this mean for the Huntsman? For Mac? If the Huntsman had to choose between getting his son to safety or giving his granddaughter a head start, I was glad he had chosen to protect my father.

The dragon shied away from the Morrigan, but she rode his draft, her razor claws raking the length of one wing. He roared and twisted, his tattered wing flapping, ripped from her assault. She was going to take him down to get to me. I had to get off this ride, had to set him free.

Peering over his rippling shoulder, I soaked in the red and gold carpet blurring underneath us as we sped over Autumn. Blue’s defensive maneuvers had nudged us clear into the next season. Miles in the distance, I spotted the green-spiked tip of Mac’s tree, and my shoulders relaxed. The ground was heavily warded. I would be as safe there as I was now, and Blue would be even safer on his own.

“Take us there.” I pointed into the wind. “The tallest tree.
Go
.”

A sinuous bob that rippled down his body was better than a nod for telegraphing his understanding. Seconds. It took an instant for Blue to slice through the air toward the den once given direction. Snorting, he flicked his whiplike tail and tagged the Morrigan’s wing with a
crack
of sound.

She thrashed while spiraling toward the ground, but Rook had once mended a broken wing by shifting, which meant we had minutes to build our lead. Wrapping my arms around the base of Blue’s neck, I clenched my thighs and tried not to fall to my death as he started his descent. Even before we reached the redwood, I saw the problem.

Blue landing in the clearing going this speed was as likely as me pirouetting on the head of a pin.

The fastest way in was straight down. The Morrigan had taught me that. There was one way off this ride, and it sucked. I had done this once before with Rook as a buffer. All I had to do was let go.

And then pray I wasn’t impaled by a limb on the way to the ground.

“I really don’t want to do this,” I groaned. “Okay, fella, change of plans. Slow down as much as you can and get as low as you can. I will slide under you and drop into the trees when you get close.”

He snorted like I had offered to bungee jump into the Grand Canyon using a hairband as a cord.

Heat flushing my cheeks, I demanded, “Do you have a better idea?”

One of Blue’s limber front claws reached behind him, snagging my ankle and yanking me off his back. A scream rose up my throat. I clamped my hands over my mouth, digging my nails into my cheeks to keep it contained. Hanging upside down sent blood rushing into my head until my temples throbbed in time with my racing heart. My gut twisted into knots until the scream wasn’t all I was having trouble holding down. I was going to be sick if he didn’t get me right-side up soon.

Claw tightening on my ankle, Blue spread his wings wide, catching the air and jerking us backward. The landscape above my head slowed from a blur to distinguishable landmarks. Ones I would really hate to barf on at this altitude. With a sharp dip, Blue dropped into the canopy of trees. Limbs slapped my face, tore out my hair and lashed my neck. Another gust of wind blasted from his wings, and Blue hovered over Mac’s tree. He rumbled at me, what I couldn’t understand, and then...he let go.

Chapter Fifteen

––––––––

T
he ground rose to meet me at an alarming rate, and I squished my eyes shut so I didn’t have to see it coming. My shoulder glanced off a limb, and stars exploded behind my eyelids. Sprigs swatted me across the face, leaves slapping me as I fell. One branch struck me in the gut, and a year’s worth of oxygen exploded from my lungs. That one, though, saved my life. As I clung to it, gasping for air, I first thanked God I seemed to have the same amount of holes as I was born with, and then I inched toward the trunk. Gripping the next branch down, I stretched for a foothold and swung myself lower.

The sooner my feet hit dirt, the better. There was no asking Mac if his wards extended up here or if they were embedded in the earth. I shimmied lower, breaking fingernails off in the bark. Splinters slid underneath the skin of my palms while I raced against the Morrigan. Gritting my teeth, I leapt the last six feet to the carpet of leaves below, tucked into a ball and rolled to cushion the impact. My form dissolved, and I flopped onto my back on the cushion of crinkly leaves to suck in a few
grateful to be alive
breaths.

A black shadow glided over me, cooling my skin where the sun had warmed me.

I flipped onto my side and shoved my feet under me. Ten feet stretched between the entrance to Mac’s den and me. I rolled
that
far? Overhead, the Morrigan’s anger reverberated through the trees. I sucked in air and ran. My fingertips brushed fuzzy bark as a wriggling mass smelling of damp feathers thumped into my shoulders. My head shot forward when a wing glanced off it, and my forehead met tree trunk with a dull thud.
Yowch
. Reaching behind me, I pulled out fistfuls of feathers until I caught one of her leathery legs and yanked her hard to one side before she pecked my nape more than once.

Larger than a horse, she had shrunk to fit into the clearing or I would have been bird food by now. Head spinning, I hated admitting she still wasn’t trying to kill me. She couldn’t yet. She needed my blood. Putting myself this close to the final tether was not the best decision I had ever made. She would peck at me until I collapsed or—even worse—she would regroup and drag Shaw into this. As much as it pained me, I knew what I had to do. I had to sever the final tether before she bullied her way through it. Mac was still responsible for setting the threshold into Faerie. Surely he could thin a section or set a new tether to get Shaw and me home? If not, he was about to make my room a permanent addition.

Not expecting my change of direction, the Morrigan rustled her feathers and cocked her head to see what I’d do next.
So long, safety
. I turned and bolted into the forest. More familiar with Faerie than I ever had been, it was simple to tune out the ever-present white noise and focus on the hum of the final tether.

I hit the tree line before the Morrigan blurred into action, shrinking yet again to match my speed. Jerking my head forward, I stopped watching her transformation and started looking where I was heading. Smashing into a tree—
again
—was not the way to save the mortal realm, Shaw or me.

My calves burned and lungs blazed as I pushed harder, faster. Weaving through tree trunks with low-hanging limbs slowed her down. It slowed me down, too, but I recovered faster.

The size of a real crow now, she pumped her wings in my periphery, her body shrinking to give her more speed. Cutting toward me, she flew right over my head and sank her talons in my hair, scraping my scalp and making my eyes water. I swung my arms over my head, not caring if my fists never made contact. It kept her off me, and that was enough.
Just a little farther...

At last the final tether came into view. A perfect circle set into the ground, it was paved with stones in concentric rows to create a miniature amphitheater with three levels of seating, each ring dipping lower into the earth than the first.

Pulling up my magical sight hurt with my head throbbing, but I did it. I got all the information required to sever the tether then tucked my arms to my sides and ran. Agony stole my breath when I murmured the Word to reopen my wound. Immediately, warm liquid trickled through my fingers. I clenched my fist tighter and pushed harder. My nostrils were raw from sucking down the chilly Autumn air, and it felt like someone had taken an icepick and jabbed it into my side.

The Morrigan’s cries grew frantic. She caught up, talons ripping hair and beak tearing skin. One frustrated grab left me clutching the small crow in hand. I flung her hard against a passing tree and watched her tumble to the ground, wings spread across the leaves and orange legs twitching.

Out of time, I slid into the amphitheater and began smearing blood across the threshold.

“No.”

The sound of her graveled human voice startled me, and I forced my shaking hands to smooth faster. Her voice worked just fine when magically projected from her crow form. That she had opted to shift before confronting me told me the running was over.

One of us wasn’t leaving here alive.

“I can’t let you cross realms.” Sitting back on my calves, I wet my lips and spoke the Word, the coordinates for this tether. Behind me, a fierce scream rose. I sat still until the snap of disconnection told me the tether was truly severed.

“There must be another way,” she snarled. “You wouldn’t have trapped yourself here.”

“I thought you wanted me to sever the tethers,” I taunted. “Well, you got your wish.”

Her fingers speared through her hair. “You don’t understand.”

“I understand you killed my father.” I stood and dusted off my knees. “You left me no choice.”

“He will rise.” At my glare, she amended, “Don’t play coy. You knew this.”

Her petulant tone left me cold. Had she killed Mac only as a matter of convenience? Did it matter? In the mortal realm, death was permanent. Humanity was fragile. Mortals didn’t get second chances.

“What about Rook?” I challenged.

“My son is my concern.” Her lips flattened. “He has survived worse and come out stronger.”

Okay, so maybe she hadn’t snuffed either out of existence, but murder was murder, and it was damn inconvenient. You couldn’t go around killing people because you figured they would recover later.

Swaying from blood loss and exertion, I planted my feet to keep me standing. “Daibhidh?”

Her shoulders rose and fell. “He shouldn’t have discounted the ogre.”

A flicker of pissedoffedness ignited in me at what the consul had done.
Liar. Murderer
. He bought his death when he sided with the Morrigan. Now he had paid for his loyalties. His slate was wiped clean.

“You have ruined everything.” Calm stole over her. “Centuries of planning... Gone.
Poof
.”

I folded my arms over my chest. “I don’t get it. I figured you wanted the threshold erased.”

“Erased? No. Try reinforced.” She threw back her head and barked with laughter. “You thought I would share my Utopia with the dregs of Faerie? The mortal realm is flush with prey and ripe with potential. I would never have given away such riches so cheaply. It has been my hunting ground—mine alone—for more centuries than the length of most fae memories.” She smoothed the hairs away from her face. “I grew tired of my leash. I wanted a clean break. I wanted to cut my ties to this realm.”

Understanding made me grateful I had chosen severing the tether over saving myself.

“You orchestrated all of this.” I should have suspected her sooner. “King Moran’s death—everything.”

Her lips curved into the sly kind of smile house cats wore after canaries went missing. She let the accusation stand, let me read what I wanted into her expression. Her silence answered loudly for me.

“Mac witnessed it.” He confided that much to me himself. “That’s when he went into hiding. To cover your tracks, you and Daibhidh blamed his absence on him tracking down the killer, which is exactly what everyone would expect him to do.” It felt right, so I kept going. “Except you needed his blood. So when Mac vanished, you enlisted Rook. You sent him to fetch me, figuring it was win/win. Mac would either come out of hiding and turn himself in to save me once word got around I was here, or I would counteract his magic and you wouldn’t need him anymore. You could bleed me dry instead.”

“You’re being dramatic again.” She rolled her eyes with a snort. “You bled all over Faerie under Macsen’s supervision and seem perfectly healthy to me. What difference does it make who pulls your strings?”

Rather than answer her, I fed her another line of thought.

“I bet you were surprised when Rook married me to steal the throne out from under you.”

“I was,” she admitted. “It required a level of cunning I never suspected he possessed.”

“And you rewarded that cunning by attempting to murder him as soon as I left Faerie.”

“If I wanted him dead, he would be dead. True dead. He proved himself a valuable asset.” She shrugged. “I was willing to let him live, as long as he kept his distance. I could have used an emissary in Faerie.”

“What about Daibhidh?” He was the logical choice. “What did he want from you?”

“The same as he no doubt asked of you.” She smirked. “He wanted to graze in fresh pastures.”

Uncertain what type of fae that made him, and equally sure I didn’t want to know, I didn’t ask.

“You plunged Faerie into chaos—into the war they’d been craving—so no one would notice the tethers had been cut until it was too late. By the time the houses finished fighting, the fae would have been sealed in this realm.” I rubbed my forehead. “You planned on bringing Macsen along so he could renew the threshold on the other side, trapping the old fae here and limiting your competition.”

“If he hadn’t gone to ground,” she assured me, “I never would have brought you into this.”

I scoffed, knowing better. “Yes, you would have. One way or the other. You can’t control Mac.”

Unruffled, the Morrigan inclined her head. “Perhaps you’re right. It would have been so simple. I had no idea until you became a marshal that he even had a daughter. Oh, I wondered what his ties were to the mortal realm, but I didn’t know. No one did. Then the king died, and I knew Macsen would run to you.”

BOOK: Old Dog, New Tricks
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