Indebted: The Premonition Series (31 page)

What if I do make it back to Reed now and Casimir follows me there? Will he bring his army with him so that Reed will have to fight not only the Gancanagh, but the Fallen, too? Reed will be crushed
, I think, feeling my heart twist painfully.

If I stay here, the Gancanagh might wipe out the Fallen for me—both my enemies pitted against each other. But, the longer I stay here, the less the Gancanagh feel like my enemy. Can I live above this mess or will I be buried by it?
I wonder as my hand balls into a fist.

“Genevieve,” Brennus whispers against my skin, like he would worship me if I would only let him.

Something twists inside of me at the sound of his voice, the passion and the need within him is calling to me. This is love—a version of it and I wonder when that happened.

When did I start loving him?
I ask myself. But, it doesn’t really matter. It’s the bottom of the wave, not the top of it where love crashes over me and washes me way, like it does with Reed. Nothing can compare to that—nothing.

“I can’t be what you want me to be,” I whisper to Brennus, while trying to pull away from him.

“You already are whah I want ye ta be,” he replies softly as he tries to halt my retreat. “Give it more time. Ye will see dat I am right.” Shaking my head, I rest it against his chest.

From somewhere outside on the grounds, shouts erupt from the fellas. Brennus tenses as his arms tighten around me. Lifting my forehead off him, my eyes go to his face to see his expression harden.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, following his eyes to the open doors where Casimir had left.

In the next instant, Russell enters through the doors and moves rapidly towards me. The shock of seeing him again is overwhelming, bringing tears to my eyes.

I don’t have time to even take a breath before Russell’s clone enters my body. Then, a comforting sense of being home, a calm and a peace that my soul has been silently begging for, floats through my body.

“We’re searchin’ for ya, Red,” Russell’s voice whispers from somewhere deep inside of me. “We need ya. Yer ours. I love ya…and so does Reed.”

CHAPTER 17

War Of Hearts

As Russell’s voice speaks to me with the resonance of a dream, I feel like, for just one moment, some of the pieces that have gone missing from me are filled. I must have a look of bliss on my face because when I lift my eyes to Brennus’, his scowl startles me.

“Da other needs more tellin’,” Brennus growls, while stroking my cheek. “I tought da Ifrit would have been enough ta convince him dat he is way out of his element, but he is having a problem dealing wi’ reality. Whah did he say ta ye?”

I lower my chin and look away.

“I’m na used ta open defiance,” he says sternly, pulling my chin back so he can look in my eyes.

“I’m not used to betraying my friends,” I reply coolly.

“Ah, da Seraph has already taught ye something, has he na?” Brennus says wi’ equal cool. “Ye’re practicing yer poker face?” he asks with a smile that isn’t reaching his eyes. “Remember dat dey all have someting ta learn from ye, na ye from dem.” Letting go of my chin, he turns towards the door to leave.

“What are you going to do?” I ask worriedly, leaping off the desk and following him.

“I’m going ta speak ta Finn ta make sure dat ye do na spend da rest of yer life in Sheol wi’ mentors like Casimir,” he says abruptly, turning on me in frustration. “So dat dey do na get dere hands on ye and pluck all da feathers from yer wings one by one, jus for fun—jus because dey can. Ye wonder why I do na want ta turn ye now? ’Tis because I do na want dem ta get dere hands on even a piece of ye. Whah dey would do ta a soul like yers is…unimaginable. I will turn ye, if I have ta—if it saves even a piece of ye. But now I crave all of ye; I want everyting, na jus da
aingeal
part,” he says, wiping his mouth like he is trying to wipe away the words he just spoke to me.

“I want to come with you when you talk to Finn. Please?” I ask, putting my hand on his arm to stop him from leaving without me.

“I’m na going after yer soul mate. He probably canna help himself,” Brennus says reluctantly. “If he comes here, I will deal wi’ him, but truly, he is da last of me problems.”

“I believe you, but I still want to come with you. I need to learn everything I can from you. You’re an expert on strategy and you know my enemy well. I have no idea what Casimir will do next, but you have some idea, don’t you? Teach me. Please,” I beg again.

Brennus’ face changes when he sees that I’m absolutely sincere. I need someone to teach me how to fight my enemies. I cannot sit back and hope to be protected any longer.

“Whah do yer instincts tell ye about dem?” Brennus asks, linking his arm with mine as we walk from the office. I squeeze his arm gratefully as we enter the sitting room and are met by Finn and my personal guard. “Let’s convene in da kirk,” Brennus says to them, and when I look at him in confusion, he says, “Da Knight’s Bar, as ye so aptly named it.”

We walk the corridor together arm-in-arm, while I think about what Brennus had asked me. When Brennus opens the doors next to the medieval suits of armor, I step into the softly lit chapel. Brennus seats me at a table and then goes to the bar. He pours me a glass of a clear liqueur. Sipping it, it tastes a little bit like black licorice.

“I don’t know what Casimir will do, but…” I trail off, taking another sip and feeling a little calmer. “He is kind of a snob, isn’t he?” I ask as Brennus sits next to me. “He looks down on Powers and Gancanagh, like you’re beneath him, which I really can’t figure out because he is the one who reeks like rotten garbage.”

Brennus smiles. “So, whah does dat tell ye about how he will proceed?” he asks me, lifting his eyebrow in question as he leans back in his chair studying me.

“Well, he doesn’t seem the type that enjoys getting his hands dirty. After meeting him, I’m surprised that he even deigned to come here himself. He must really want me…or he really needs me for some reason. He was willing to come here alone and take the risk to bargain for me himself. It makes me wonder if the higher ups are breathing down his neck. He kept saying ‘we’ and at first I thought that maybe he uses it like the royal ‘we’ to mean himself, but now I don’t think so. I think he is truly reporting to someone else,” I pause and take another sip of my drink.

“Good,” Brennus says encouragingly.

“So he is a ‘snob’ and he ‘doesn’t like to get his hands dirty,’” Finn recaps. “Whah will he do?” he asks me.

“He will look for someone else to do the dirty work for him,” I respond. Then I turn to Brennus and say, “Need teaches the plan. He will try to cultivate an ally within.”

“She warms da heart, does she na?” Declan says, like a proud papa.

“Whah lengths will he go ta?” Brennus asks me.

“Huh?” I ask.

“How far will he go wi’ dis plan?” Brennus restates the question.

“I don’t know. Do you?” I counter.

“I do,” he says. “Casimir told me dat he sent da Ifrits ta search for ye. He wouldna have done dat unless he plans ta go ta any length ta have ye or ta see ye dead.”

“So, if a traitor cannot get me out alive, he will turn assassin?” I ask, feeling ill.

“Casimir wants ye, but he is willing ta see ye dead if he cannot control ye. I have na seen dem so concerned about anyting like dey are wi’ ye,” Brennus says, and his words chill me. I take another large gulp of my drink, trying to get rid of the goose bumps that are running the length of my body again. “When he fails wi’ his plan to kidnap ye, den whah will he do?” Brennus asks me.

I look over at him, feeling surprise that he asked me that question.

Brennus smiles encouragingly. “Ye have ta keep looking ahead—keep anticipating da future moves. Staying ahead of yer enemy is how ye win.”

“Uh, okay,” I reply, thinking. “Well, if I’m Casimir, I have been sitting in a stinky hole, waiting for someone to deliver that irritating angel to me and when she doesn’t show, I come out of my hole…like an angry wasp, looking to bust some heads? Toting my army with me?” I ask them, looking at all of their faces.

The fellas all start laughing again. “Maybe,” Brennus says, grinning. “Anyone else have any ideas?”

Finn leans forward in his chair. “He tries again, but dis time, he comes ta Genevieve. He is staying away from Sheol for now—letting da stink wear off and keeping a low profile from the divine Powers who would like ta tear him apart. He wants ta come ta her as a friend, a savior. He will protect her from da bad Gancanagh—da ones dat tried to kill her, hoping she doesn’t know he is da one who sent da Ifrit,” Finn says, while watching me.

“I’ve got some candy for you, little girl?” I ask Finn, understanding what he is teaching me.

Finn’s eyebrow rises cunningly. “Or, I’m really na a wolf, little girl, jus disregard dese fangs, would yous?” Finn replies wi’ a wink.

“Or he starts recruiting again,” Declan counters, “but dis time from da outside. He doesn’t want ta bring his army—dere’s too much risk dat da divine angels will get wind o’ it and be dere ta do deir jobs. But if he uses non-angels, dat may buy him some time—where da Divine are concerned. Dey are na so concerned about whah, say, da trolls are doing. It could stir dem up, but na like da Fallen amassing.”

“Come on! Trolls!” I exclaim, irritated. “The ones that smell like arse and have really sharp teeth that will tear you apart if you get too close to them?” I ask, looking at Eion.

“Dey do na have purple hair either,” Eion says, pointing at me. “Dey are usually bald or dey have jus little tufts of hair comin’ out of dere ears.”

“Gross,” I mutter.

“And troll breath…” Eion goes on before I hold up my hand.

“I get it,” I say exasperatedly. “What kills a troll?”

“
Gula
,” they all say in unison.

“Gluttony?” I ask, translating the Latin they spoke.

I must look confused because Finn says, “It depends on da troll. Ye have ta find out whah dey canna resist, and den ye give dem more of it den dey can possibly handle.”

Still confused, I look at Brennus and his face breaks into a sexy smile. “If a troll canna resist a beer, ye give him a tousand of dem. He will drink himself ta death in a matter of hours,” Brennus explains. “If dat does na work, den ye cut his head off. Fire is no good. Dey have skin more resistant den ours ta it.”

“Huh,” I say, trying to process this new information.

“Steps?” Brennus asks the group.

“Watch for da disgruntled, some of da new fellas—da ones who have da crap jobs,” Lachlan chimes in. “Ye smell anyone dat smells foul, like dey have been talkin’ ta da Sheol Shiners, ye pound him ‘til he squeals.”

“The Sheol Shiners?” I ask Lachlan.

“Da pretty boys from Hell,” he smiles at me, speaking of the fallen Seraphim.

“What defeats the Sheol Shiners?” I ask him, seeing him tilt his head, considering my question.

“
Superbia
,” Lachlan replies, meaning pride.

“
Vanitas
,” Faolan adds, meaning vanity.

“
Invidia
,” Declan says, meaning envy.

“
Iram
,” Eion chimes in, meaning wrath.

“
Avaritiae
,” Finn says, meaning avarice.

“
Libidinem
,” Brennus says, meaning lust.

“What defeats me?” I whisper to Brennus.

“
Tristitiae
,” Brennus softly utters the word that means “sorrow.” “Especially when ’tis da sorrow or suffering of someone dat ye love.”

My throat tightens because I know that he is right. Gently, he places his hand over mine on the table. A sad smile comes to my lips when I say, “You have a lot to teach me.”

“Dat I do,” Brennus agrees, lifting my hand to his lips and kissing it. “Ye need me, whether ye tink ye do or na.”

“Steps,” I say, reminding him that we have issues to discuss.

Brennus’ eyes soften in amusement. “Finn, make sure we know who Casimir plans ta cultivate as outside allies. Send da word out dat we are in da business of making dem jus as happy as da Seraphim are ta remain loyal ta us—more willing.” Brennus instructs.

To me, he says, “Information is da key. We try ta be respectful ta da other beings out dere, insomuch as we can be respectful, so dey tend ta reciprocate, insomuch as dey can reciprocate. Most demons and lower beings are tired of da Seraphim. It makes it easier.”

“I think that is called the ‘Golden Rule,’ Brennus. ‘Do unto others as you would have them do unto you,’” I say with a crooked smile.

Faolan looks at me strangely, asking, “Dat’s a rule? Den whah’s da ‘Silver Rule?’”

Before I can answer, Eion chimes in, “Da ‘Silver Rule’ must be whah ye do when the ‘Golden Rule’ does na work. It must be, ‘Kill all da others before dey kill all of yous.’”

Lachlan smiles at me and says, “Da ‘Golden Rule’ should really be, ‘Ye will bleed if ye do na do whah I’m telling ye.’”

I roll my eyes at them and Brennus smiles at me possessively. “We need ta tighten da security. We lock da corridors from now on. Only fellas dat have business in da North or West Towers are ta be dere. Post only well-trusted fellas at da doors, but do na trust dem either,” Brennus orders Declan.

“Do ye want more personal security for da queen?” Declan asks Brennus.

“NO!” I respond, looking from Declan to Brennus. “Four is enough. I’m used to you guys. I don’t want more fellas staring at me. Can’t we just get cameras on the door or something?” I ask and they laugh.

“Anyone can get a feed on da cameras. Even closed-circuit can be breeched and den dey know everyting,” Brennus says. “We will need ta question everyone dat comes near ye for a while. Do na assume dat dey have business dere. Challenge dem ta prove why dey are dere.”

“I think it’s time you showed me how to use that axe you gave me, Brennus,” I say quietly. “How about joining us in the war room when you’re free?” I ask him, looking up from my clenched hands.

“’Tis na a bad idea,
mo chroí
,” he says, covering my hands with his large, cool one. “We will begin tomorrow. We will see ta it.”

I nod as the meeting adjourns.