The Becoming Trilogy Box Set (Books 1-3) (93 page)

‘At last we have the truth of
it,’ Gov smirked. ‘The King never could control that mercurial temper of his.
And possessive as ever, I see. Very well.’ He settled back into his chair,
arranging his hands in his lap. ‘The blade was forged to be a god killer. It
can breach a god’s skin where other blades cannot. Thrust into the heart, it’s
capable of slaying a true immortal. Hence Elatha is now nothing more than a red
fog at full moon.’

‘But how did he use it to
make his super-race?’ Rubbing her middle finger idly over the two marks on her
palm, Ash frowned at him.

‘Like all things in nature,
the blade’s destructive ability has it’s counterpoint, a creative edge.
Somehow, Elatha persuaded a goddess to let him tap into her powers of
creation.’

She arched a brow. ‘That
sounds like a bad euphemism for sex.’

‘It is exactly that. Elatha
got your granny to do the nasty with him, and right at the moment of
conception, he used the knife to bleed her, thus tapping into the flow of her
creative powers. Her blood became the catalyst that birthed his new breed of wolf
men.’

‘Wow.’ Their genesis was
crazy, and she wondered if he’d have a paper copy for her to go over later. Her
head was spinning.

‘But he must have been very
persuasive,’ Gov said, frowning.

‘Why so?’ Yes, she was
currently discussing her grandmother’s sex life. If she hadn’t been so
interested, Ash would have changed the subject.

‘When it comes to
procreation, Goddesses are notorious for keeping their thighs closed tighter
than a clam. If they get knocked-up, they sacrifice their immortality. He must
have been some Romeo to get the Morrígan to let him cut her during the act. And
as for you? I’m amazed you exist. I thought she’d have aborted your mother in the
womb.’

Ash glared at him.

‘What?’ he asked, clearly
wounded by her withering look. ‘Birthing a child meant she gave up her eternal
life.’

‘Maybe she decided it was
worth it,’ Ash replied primly.

‘Delude yourself then.’ His
shoulder lifted in a shrug and his attitude grated.

She had to sit on her hands
to stop from throwing something at his head. ‘How do you even know it was her
he used?’

‘Please.’ He turned his palms
up to her. ‘Isn’t it obvious? You’re here aren’t you? Her progeny. And in case
you hadn’t noticed, granny has been losing her looks for some time now. She and
I are the same age, but you’d never know it. Then there’s the small fact that
she stabbed him and cursed his bloodline. Guess she had a change of heart once
the crow’s feet started appearing.’ He laughed drily.

‘So let me get this
straight,’ Ash said. ‘The
Skil
can be used to draw an immortal’s blood.’

‘Correct,’ Gov nodded.

‘Elatha drew the Morrígan’s
blood while they were in the act of making my mother, and used that blood to
create a new species. How exactly?’ She threw the question at him like it was
no big deal, when she was on the edge of her seat for every answer.

‘He would have to have used
the bloodied knife to cut both man and beast, and with the mingling of their
blood, their bodies would become one.’

They really have a thing
for blood,
Ash thought
.

‘And if the cutting wasn’t
done at the point of conception? What then?’

‘Then a blade dipped in god’s
blood would sever the bonds between two living things, rather than create them.’
Excitement climbed. He was finally giving her what she needed.

‘Bonds, like a mating bond?’
Or a
thrall
bond, Ash thought. Hope rose in her chest.

‘Precisely.’

Bingo.
That was the key to using the blade to free Liath. It
sounded straightforward enough, except … ‘Without the immortal blood part, what
can the blade do?’

‘I wouldn’t try that if I
were you. Unprimed, the cut of the blade is invariably fatal to mortals.’

Ash frowned. ‘I don’t suppose
you know any immortals who’d be willing to donate a little of their blood, do
you?’ she batted her lashes sweetly at him.

‘Good luck with that,
Sweetheart,’ he said drolly, ‘I’m afraid you’re not my type. But if you wanted
to send your blond boy-toy my way, who knows, he might be able to soften me up.
Buns of steel.
Unf
. I could eat my breakfast off that arse,’ he said,
smacking his lips together.

Ash growled, low in her
throat.

‘No? Feeling a little
possessive about the King?’ He flicked his hand dismissively. ‘No god will
willingly let you drain their powers. Though you could always try your luck
with Creed and Luc. They seemed quite taken by
your
tight little butt
cheeks.’ He wagged his brows suggestively.

Ash shuddered. ‘Over my dead
body,’ she cursed and got up out of the armchair.

‘Dearg-due would be happy to
help make that a reality.’ Gov mirrored her move, towering above her. ‘Tread
carefully, child of Elatha. They were playing with you earlier. What you saw
wasn’t even a glimpse of our true capabilities. You don’t fuck with our family
and live to regret it.’

‘I’m not stupid enough to try
to take it from you.’ Ash faced him, ignoring the itch under her skin that told
her her wolf wasn’t enjoying the standoff. Her hands flexed as she pushed her
claws back.

‘Smart girl. Have you asked
Grandma for help? She must be overjoyed that you’ve mated her mortal enemy.’
Gov cackled his mirth. ‘I wish I could see her face. Jerry Springer has nothing
on your fucked-up family dynamics, girl.’

She rolled her eyes and
exhaled, the tension between them easing as his mood changed to something more
relaxed. ‘I would ask her, if I knew where to find her. MacTire couldn’t tell
me.’ More like Connal
wouldn’t
tell her.

‘Why didn’t you just ask me
in the first place?’ He looked so exasperated it was almost comical, but she
was too busy leaping on the revelation to enjoy it.

She pounced forwards,
catching herself before she got too close to him. ‘You know where I can find
her?’

‘Sure. If she’s not in her
decrepit mausoleum of a house, she’ll be in her immortal realm of Morrígan.’

‘Is it on a bus route?’

Gov grinned. ‘You know I
almost like you.’

Ash stroked Connal’s hair,
pressed a kiss to his forehead and slipped off the side of the bed. His
sleeping body leaned into her touch and she wanted nothing more than to crawl
back into bed with him. As she folded the note she’d written, the irony didn’t
escape her: in the end, she was the one sneaking away in the dark of night, not
him. Ash wedged the slip of paper next to a wolfhound figurine on the
nightstand, grabbed up her backpack and walked out the door.

She’d be back in no time,
anyway. Not like she was leaving forever.

Her wolf still whined when
she left the house.

Pausing on the porch, Ash
took a deep breath of fresh night air, the scent of farm animals, dogs and
molasses sifting across her senses. It was peaceful, nature at its most
content. From the corner of her eye, she spotted Madden, sat on a chair dragged
from the kitchen, his body rigid, hand on a shotgun. He seemed barely there,
hardly breathing. It was no surprise the doctor was dead on his feet. They’d
stayed up into the small hours of the night, Madden, Ash and Connal, huddled
around the kitchen table, discussing what the Master had told them about the
Skil
.
She’d left out the part about the mind-rape. The last thing she needed was
Connal going medieval on a bunch of ancient deities. And she was economical
with the truth when it came to Gov’s offer of help, too. Connal was so dead-set
against her seeking out the Morrígan, even though they all knew it was their
only hope of saving Liath.

Madden’s head jerked up.
‘Shit. Is my shift over already?’ He rubbed the bridge of his nose and squinted
into the darkness. ‘I thought I was on ‘til dawn.’

‘You are,’ Ash reassured him.
‘I couldn’t sleep. Thought I’d do a patrol, make sure Doyle hasn’t crossed the
boundaries again.’

His nod was the only
indication he’d heard her and she could guess where his head was. He’d been
down ever since she’d told him they’d need the blood of an immortal to work the
Skil
. She didn’t need to be in his thoughts to know he was flashing to
an inevitably unpleasant end if they didn’t get it. Madden looked at her for a
moment and attempted a smile. ‘Thanks,’ he said, so quietly she wasn’t sure she
heard him right.

‘Huh?’

‘I just wanted to say thanks,
for everything you’ve done for Liath.’

‘Anyone would have done the
same,’ Ash replied with a soft shrug.

‘No, Ash, they wouldn’t. You
and I had a rough start out of the blocks, but I want you to know, however this
ends, I truly appreciate all you’ve done to help me and my family.’

God, he made it sound so
final, like he’d already given up hope.

‘Thank me when Liath is well
again. Meantime, I have a mutant mole-rat to hunt.’

He was so out of the world,
he didn’t even notice she was totally overdressed for someone about to shift
into a wolf. Grateful for small mercies, Ash jogged off the porch and along the
road to the end of the property where a taxi idled.

‘Thanks,’ she murmured when
the driver popped the back door for her, and she slid across the seats, hefting
her backpack beside her.

She couldn’t resist a
backward glance. Connal had been dead asleep when she’d left him, but a part of
her still expected to see him coming after her.

Sighing, Ash turned back
around and slumped in the seat, watching the road. She eyed the driver when he
paused at a junction, only placing why he looked so familiar when he frowned at
her in the rear-view mirror.

It was the same driver who'd
dropped her at her grandmother’s house that first night in Dublin. Now, he was
delivering her to a god with questionable motives. Hardly a coincidence. She
wondered if he was some sort of Renfield to the Ancients.

Ignoring his sullen
expressions, she watched the road markings zip by. The first time she’d been in
the tobacco-musted cab, her head had been filled with questions and grief. It
wasn’t so dissimilar this time around.

Connal had given her
something she’d longed for, something she’d only got in slices of conversation
with Mac and Knutr: information about her mother.

With only nightmares and her
own distant memories to go by, the new light shed on her mother’s life, and
death, was both welcome and heartbreaking. So much she never knew. Ash had had
a sister who died at birth. Her mother had been loved. She’d been happy, she’d
lived and she’d suffered. It made Ash angry and scared. It made her wonder if
the same would happen to her, if she’d get caught in the middle of this
territorial war and die in exactly the same way. Her thumb rubbed the underside
of the silver ring on her finger. It was more than just a memorial, it kept her
alive now, but the timer was running down, unless she could do something about
it.

The window fogged as her
exhale hit the glass, blurring the outside world. Dublin had snuck up on her,
its streets rising up out of the darkness, bridges arching over glittering
black water. It was a haze through the white mist of her breath, and yet the
shop stood out, a black diamond in a street of coal shadows. Creepy and
sinister in the night, it still drew the eye. The cab slid to a stop and her
hackles bristled seconds before the door popped open and Gov folded his large
body into the seat beside her, his white mohawk brushing the ceiling.

‘Was starting to think you
wouldn’t come,’ he smiled over at her with a glint of teeth and metal. Ash
frowned, lighting her phone up to check the time. She was only three minutes
late.

Gov leant forward. ‘Take us
to Rathcroghan, Pal. You know where.’

‘That’s two hours away,’ the
driver balked, his eyes narrowing, but a look from Gov was either enough to
stop him refusing, or had removed his free will. Either way, Ash was glad she
wasn’t on the receiving end of it.