“We need sifters,” I say for the dozenth time.
“Wake the fuck up, Mac,” Ryodan says, “there aren’t any. Few of the Fae can sift, and we’ve killed most of the ones that can.”
“Maybe you should have thought of that before you killed the princes.”
“The princess refused to disclose their location until we did.”
“Dree-lia can sift,” I point out.
“Have you any idea where to find her, lass?” Dageus says. “None of the Seelie are responding to our summons.”
“We could go into Faery and hunt for them,” I say. I scowl when the lumbering Hummer nearly tosses me into Ryodan’s lap, and brace myself better on the console.
“Aye, and potentially lose years of our time trying to locate her,” Drustan growls. “Leaving Christian on the cliff, dying over and over. Bad plan.”
“We don’t need sifters,” Jada says. “I can do this.”
“
We
can do this,” Dageus says. “ ’Tis the only option. We won’t be returning to Christopher without his son. He’ll be bloody well furious enough that we left without him.”
We’d told no one what we’d learned of Christian’s whereabouts and stole off like thieves in the night to prevent the other Keltar from joining us. The larger our party, the greater the risk. After twenty minutes of heated debate, with Ryodan insisting Jada be included, we’d narrowed our rescue attempt to six participants, picked her and the Keltar up, and left Dublin immediately. I’d argued against the Keltar. Both Barrons and Ryodan had insisted we take backup.
“We’re close enough for now,” Barrons says, as we slow to a stop beneath a rocky outcropping that should keep us hidden from above. When he turns the engine off, Ryodan takes a pair of binoculars from the dash and gets out, quietly closing the door.
I finally have the whole seat to myself!
I sink into it gratefully and stretch my legs as we settle back to wait for the details of his reconnaissance mission to finalize our plan.
Three hours later Ryodan’s back with a second SUV, and bad news. Christian is indeed chained to the side of a mountain, about a half mile from here, a thousand feet above a rocky crevasse. Although Ryodan located a spot accessible by vehicle where we can conceal it near the Highlander’s location, as we feared, there’s no way to get to him from below.
Ryodan estimates he’s roughly two hundred feet from the top of the sheer stone face. There are cables driven into the
backside of the mountain, a modified path for hikers. Ascent is possible. Descent will make us targets, except for me, of course.
Unfortunately, when I touch people, they don’t turn invisible like my clothing and food, so I can’t get everyone back down that way. Nor do I have any desire to have these particular five people clutching pieces of me for hours.
“Why did you acquire another vehicle?” Drustan asks.
“Backup plan. If something goes wrong and we need to split up.”
“Wise decision,” Dageus says.
According to Ryodan, the Hag has built herself a nest on a splinter of rock opposite Christian, about a quarter of a mile away from where he’s chained. While Ryodan watched, she swooped in, flayed him from breastbone to groin, then returned to her nest to resume her gruesome knitting.
“Exercise in futility. One would think she’d cease doing it,” Jada says.
“All is not governed by logic,” Ryodan says. “Though you like to pretend it is.”
“Fools and the dead are not governed by logic. Survivors are.”
“There are biologic imperatives, like it or not,” he says. “Eating. Fucking. For humans, which you are, sleeping. For her, knitting.”
“I eat. And sleep. Fucking is only relevant if one intends to reproduce. I don’t.”
“Christian,” I remind. “Stay on point.”
“The point is I don’t need any of you,” Jada says. “Give me the spear. I’ll return in two hours.”
We all ignore her.
Ryodan says, “The bitch actually lances him then sits on him like an insect on a cocoon, taking her time collecting his guts.”
“Bad for him, good for us,” I say. “The problem with the Hag has always been getting past those damn legs she uses as weapons. That’s how we get close enough to kill her.”
“What are you suggesting, lass?” Drustan says.
Jada says swiftly, “I’ll kill the Hag first, then rescue Christian.”
Ryodan says, “The Hag is nested like an eagle on a splinter of stone, impossible to scale.”
“I could,” I say. “I’m invisible.”
“Physically impossible,” he clarifies, “it’s hundreds of feet, straight up. Nobody’s climbing that needle. That’s why she chose it. We’re going to have to kill her somewhere else.”
“I’m the logical choice to kill the Hag,” Jada says. “I have the cuff of Cruce. She can’t harm me.”
“I will make the descent down the face of the cliff,
invisible
, and give Christian the spear,” I say coolly.
“The Hag hunts by echolocation; she targets her prey by sound,” Jada says. “Visibility is irrelevant.”
“Fallacy,” Ryodan says. “Although she has no eyes, she employs both visual and auditory guides. When she targeted Christian on the abbey’s grounds, he wasn’t making noise.”
“You don’t know for a certainty she can see,” Jada disagrees.
“You don’t know for a certainty she can’t,” he says.
I say, “Once I give him the spear, the next time the Hag attacks, Christian can stab her while she’s resting on him. Then we free him. I’ll wear the cuff to be certain I won’t be harmed if she attacks while I’m climbing down to give him the spear.”
“You’ll wear the cuff the day you can take it from me,” Jada says coolly.
“You’ll use the spear the day you can take it from me,” I return just as coolly.
“It’s a solid plan,” Drustan says to Jada. “More so than yours.”
“Agreed,” Ryodan says.
Jada says, “You fail to consider anatomical limitations. Ryodan said Christian is chained, both hands, arms spread wide. With which free hand do you expect him to stab the Hag?”
I open my mouth then shut it. Well, damn. “How are the chains fastened?” I ask Ryodan.
“From what I could see, driven in with metal rivets.”
I shrug. “I pry one free.”
“You aren’t strong enough,” Jada says.
I bristle. “First of all, I am, but second, I have a few bottles of Unseelie flesh on hand for just such emergencies.” Loath though I am to eat it again, I never leave home without it. All weapons, necessary.
“Walking on the wild side, Ms. Lane?” Barrons murmurs.
“And you think the Hag won’t notice someone freeing one of his hands,” Jada mocks. “Or that he’s suddenly hanging from only one.”
“We go at nightfall. He may be strong enough to hold himself by clutching rock, or I drive a spike in for him. It’s doable. How quickly is Christian healing?” I ask Ryodan. If he’s in bad shape, hanging on could be difficult. “When do you think the Hag will next attack him?”
“Hard to say. I didn’t linger.”
“I’m the one he sacrificed himself for,” Jada says. “I’m the one who will rescue him.”
“Illogical and emotional,” I say acerbically. “Debt owed does not determine best woman for the job. Besides, I’m immune to the thrall of a Fae prince.”
“As am I,” she says. She raises her arm and flashes that darned cuff at me that I really wish I had.
“You know I’m right,” I say. “The plan with the greatest odds of success is the one I just detailed. And I don’t need your bloody cuff. I can do it without it.”
I glance at Barrons, who’s looking in my general direction. His eyes say,
You’re comfortable with this?
“Yes,” I say. I love that about him: he’s alpha to the bone but when the stakes get high, he doesn’t go all ape-shit crazy trying to keep me out of the game. When I choose my place to stand, he supports me standing there.
“It’s no’ about who saves Christian and kills the Hag. It’s about saving him. Period,” Drustan says quietly.
I say, “And like it or not, Jada, my invisibility is the edge we need. If I go down, there’s only a cable hanging over the cliff at night. If you go down, there’s a cable and a whole five feet ten inches of human body visible.”
Everyone but Jada murmurs agreement.
“And if the
Sinsar Dubh
decides to seize a perilous moment to wrest control of you?” Jada says.
“Aye, how is it you have the Book?” Drustan says. “Is it similar to Dageus and the Draghar?”
“It is,” I tell him. “And it can only take control of me if I kill. That’s why I’m handing Christian the spear.”
“Even if it’s an Unseelie you kill?” Dageus says.
“You’ve killed and lost control before,” Jada says. “I saw her. The Gray Woman. And the Garda you killed. I saw your shrine.”
“Which is why I’m handing Christian the spear,” I repeat irritably.
“I won’t be spotted scaling the cliff,” she says. “I’m wearing black and will darken my face.”
“Dude”—I use the word deliberately—“I am wearing an invisibility cloak.”
“Ryodan and I will make the climb with Ms. Lane at dusk,” Barrons says. “Jada, you will remain here with the Keltar.”
“The bloody hell we will,” Dageus explodes.
“Bullshit,” Drustan agrees.
“No,” Jada says flatly.
“You only increase the odds of us being heard or seen as we make the climb.”
“He’s blood. Like it or not, we attend,” Drustan says softly.
“Not even you can foresee the myriad possibilities,” Jada says to Barrons. “I didn’t come this far to remain behind. The Hag might kill you both, leaving Mac dangling on the cliff. Any number of things could go wrong. There are reasons the military takes backup when they go on a dangerous mission. There are reasons you brought us. Don’t second-guess the decision you made now.”
I can’t say in front of the Keltar, yes, but Barrons and Ryodan will come back. Dageus and Drustan won’t.
“We could all be killed, lass,” Dageus says to Jada. “Any time. Any place. Think you that means a man should never go to war? War is a natural way of life.”
“I said the three of you will remain in the car,”
Barrons says, and his voice resonates in the confines of the vehicle like a thousand layered voices.
Dageus laughs. “Aye, right, try that one on two druids trained in Voice since birth.”
Drustan snorts.
Even Jada appears unaffected. Damn, the woman is impervious as Ryodan.
“Looks like we’re all going,” I say dryly.
We spend another miserable eight hours packed in the car waiting for nightfall. I consider trying to slip off for a private moment with Barrons but instead we end up playing musical seats. Twenty minutes after we agreed on our plan, Jada tried to freeze-frame out with gear. She’s been firmly sandwiched between Barrons and Ryodan in the backseat ever since, with Dageus and Drustan in the front and me sprawled out on top of the gear, brooding out the rear window. At least I got a little sleep.
Night descends.
And a full moon rises. No clouds. Not one fluffy little bit of mist in sight. The moon is rimmed with crimson, casting the entire mountainous landscape an eerie blood-black hue.
“Son of a bitch,” Dageus curses.
“We could wait a week, or for a cloudy night,” I say.
“Nay,” Dageus says. “ ’Tis now or never. We do this tonight.”
Drustan eyes him curiously. “Ken you something of these events from your travels in time?”
Dageus mutters darkly, “Only that things get worse the longer it takes us to save him. Much, much worse.”
Dageus starts the Hummer and follows Ryodan’s directions, lumbering slowly toward our destination so as not to rev the engine and make more noise, then parks beneath another rocky outcropping.
“You will cooperate with our plan,” Ryodan tells Jada. “And you will not deviate.”
“I accept that,” she says with slow precision, “for one reason only. As all of you have agreed upon it, should I deviate, it would jeopardize the mission and all participants. I am not the rash child you once knew. You have my compliance. For this event.” She pauses a moment then adds softly and with the first trace of humanity I’ve seen in her cool countenance, “Never has anyone willingly taken such agony upon themselves to spare me a difficult choice. Christian was my hero when I needed one. I’ll see him freed and the Hag killed.”
I glance at Ryodan. A muscle is working in his jaw. Oh, yeah, he didn’t like that hero comment.
Then we’re all getting out and loading up cables and hooks and spikes and lacing our hiking boots tightly.
34
“Walking the cliff’s edge, going over, going over”
MAC
If I allow myself a moment of completely serious sincerity, though I often bitch about my current companions, I wouldn’t trade them for the world.
None of them.
Over time I’ve developed a grudging admiration and respect for Ryodan. Recent events have further honed it into something close to affection. He’s become the older, irritating brother that drives me crazy, but I’d defend him the instant someone else tried to criticize. I’ll never let him know that. I’m glad he keeps the men together. Someone needs to. I’ve also finally acknowledged to myself that I think he’s one hell of a sexy man. I thought so even before I met him, merely from his voice on the phone, the mysterious IYCGM. I’d resisted liking him with the same fervent intensity I’d devoted to disliking Barrons. I’d known from the first I could like them both more than I wanted to.
Dageus and Drustan are very similar to Barrons and Ryodan; strong men, tough, sexy, and fascinating in a human way that if I’d not met Barrons first, and they’d not been married, I’d have fallen hard for one of them. Of the two, Drustan is the stable, solid, reliable one. He exudes a palpable sense of calm competence, even in the midst of confusion. Dageus is the wild card, with a dark edge to him that’s an enormous turn-on. And their rich, husky Scots brogue is to die for.
Barrons, well, it goes without saying but I’ll say it: he’s the best of the best. The strong, silent, dangerously attractive type that harbors a private, vast, brilliant inner landscape of knowledge, wisdom, and experience, and watches, always watches, learns, adapts, evolves. A woman takes one look at the dark, carnal complexity that is Barrons and thinks: Damn, if that man chose me, took me into his inner circle, I’d never stray, never betray him. Beastly and brutal? Sure. Merciful when the situation demands it? Absolutely. Demanding? None more so. Exciting? Holy shit, yes. Respectful of my needs to make my own decisions? Most of the time.