Reluctant Adept: Book Three of A Clairvoyant's Complicated Life (37 page)

"I'm not worried about the king. He and I are going to come to an understanding, one that won't entail my subjugation." I looked at Kieran, willing him to understand. "I'm sorry, Kier. This must seem like history repeating itself, but you haven't been paying attention. I'm not Nuala. I have skills she couldn't have dreamed of—not to mention the support of some powerful and steadfast friends." I glanced at Tíereachán and the others and then returned the
draíocloch
to my bag.

I donned an extra right-hand glove and picked up my backpack. "I need to know who's coming," I said as I levitated Red to my shoulder.

"At least, leave the Master of the Hunt here," Diedra persisted, sounding more than a little distraught. "It would be bad, otherwise."

"That won't make any difference. The rest of the Hunt is still seeking me in the Otherworld." I frowned at her. "Besides, I gave him my word."

What was up with her?

Wringing her hands, Diedra shifted on her feet and, if not for the damaged conference table between us, I think she would have tried to grab my arm. "Please, Lire, don't go. You can't go. You have to stay here … please."

I opened my mouth to ask her what this was all about, but Alex interrupted me.

"Diedra." The domn's commanding voice thundered through the room as he stood with his arms folded, observing us from his position ten feet away, totally healed. Caiside stood at his side, looking pale but otherwise unaffected by Alex's recent meal.

"Brassal's dying," Kim exclaimed. "We don't have time for this!"

She was right. Another person's life was more important than taking the time to ease an overanxious friend's jitters.

"Caiside, Alex, and Diedra are staying here," I announced. "Everyone else is going unless you tell me—right now—that you're not." I looked at each of them in turn. "Don't shield against my TK. It'll just make my job more difficult."

I easily wrapped up Kim, Kieran, Fisk, Tíereachán, and Drustan since I'd already learned their resonances. Wade, though, required some effort. But before I could get started, Tíer's overarching alarm spiked through my mind as a heavy body crashed into me, knocking me to the floor, making new bruises, and driving the wind out of me. At the same time, an explosive report tore through the room, constricting my eardrums and adding yet another painful sensation to my growing list of ills.

As I struggled to breathe, I found myself looking into Fisk's contorted face while all two-hundred-plus pounds of him kept me pinned to the cool floor. If I hadn't been out of sorts, I might have kicked the jerk in the nuts or at the very least used my TK to do something—anything!—other than lay beneath him like a gasping lumpfish.

Where was Red? He'd been on my shoulder. Why didn't he zap Fisk senseless?

"Breathe," Fisk ordered. At least, I think that's what he said. My ears were ringing and my lungs had seized up somewhere beneath my body and the hard floor.

After he glanced away to consider our surroundings, he temporarily shifted his body to look me over. "You're okay," he reassured me, looking rattled. "You're fine. Your djinn were in time. Fuck. Just breathe, okay?"

After several excruciatingly long seconds of all-consuming distress while my vision darkened and I fought to draw breath, I finally,
finally
sucked in a mouthful of life-affirming, delicious air. It was then, when I could breathe, that I registered the fact that Fisk cradled my head, which seemed to be resting in his palm. He must have wrapped his hand around the back of my skull to protect me from our fall. He'd also positioned himself on top of me so that his weight didn't impede my breathing, leaning on his left forearm as he loomed over me.

I blinked at him in confusion as he stared into my eyes, his amber gaze intensely focused. Outside my line of sight, I vaguely registered shouts from several of the others, a woman crying, and the djinn's calm responses.

"You okay now?" Fisk asked.

This has to be my most surreal experience, to date
, I thought inanely.
And I have cotton in my ears.

"What happened?" I rasped. My lungs still ached with that dreadful hollow feeling, my upper-back and left elbow throbbed painfully, and, although Fisk did his best to lean to the side, he was still a big guy who needed to get off me.

As though reading my mind, he pushed to his knees and then helped me to a sitting position.

Red toddled up from behind my back where he must have gone flying when Fisk turned me into his football tackle dummy.

"Diedra pulled a gun," Red informed me. "She tried to shoot you."

My brain function promptly seized. I rubbed my sore elbow absently while the image of Diedra with a gun—never mind trying to kill me—took shape in my mind. I shook my head. It didn't compute.

"That … can't be," I stammered. Maybe I'd misheard him.

"She did," Fisk said. "If your djinn hadn't interfered, my prince would be dead. He put himself in the line of fire, trying to take her down."

Fisk didn't spell it out. He didn't have to. Tíereachán had charged a gun to save me and, if the djinn hadn't been on their game, he would have taken the bullet. Even with a healer in the room, there was no coming back from a gunshot to the head or heart. This knowledge thundered through me, shaking my breath and making the world look as grainy as an old-time movie. Tíereachán might have died for me. If it were possible to be both astonished and unsurprised at the same time, I managed. It was one thing to hear the oath and know intellectually what it meant; quite another to see the results play out in real life. It didn't matter that if our roles had been reversed, I would have likely done the same thing.

I couldn't let this happen again.

If Tíer died because of me …

I shuddered. The thought was too horrible to consider.

"You didn't exactly sit on your hands either," I said, giving his arm a squeeze. "Thank you."

His body jolted, his eyes rounding with surprise.

What the—?

He thought I was so ungrateful that I wouldn't even appreciate or acknowledge what he'd done?

Now that I was sitting, the top arch of the djinn's silvery forcefield was visible above the broken conference table. Inside the bubble, I spied the crown of Diedra's quaking head as she sobbed. Alex towered over her, his black eyes reduced to murderous slits, a small handgun held loosely in his grip. Tíereachán stood opposite, speaking to the fuming strigoi leader as Caiside placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. To the far right of the table, Kim paced anxiously while Kieran stared at me, hands clenched to fists at his sides.

Brassal.

Forgetting my indignation, I leapt to my feet and soared over the conference table to stand between Tíereachán and Alex.

We'd have to deal with Diedra later. It was well past time to go.

My friend raised her tear-filled gaze to meet mine. "Please," she blubbered. "He'll kill them. He'll kill them and share it. He told me! He'll kill them … and he'll make me watch. Inside my head I can't … close … my eyes! I can't not see it!" She issued a wailing sob and pulled savagely at her hair. "Just kill me and get it over with. He already knows! Please. I can't live this way!"

Holy crap
. Had Lorcán and his cronies kidnapped Diedra's loved ones? Her family maybe?

I looked at Tíereachán, my eyes probably as large as two scrying orbs.

Caiside knelt next to the shimmering force field. "I need to touch her. Now."

Instantly suspicious, I examined him. "Why?"

"He's an animtùr," Wade said and then clarified, "An aura reader."

"If your friend is under an enchantment or a geas, it would be best to learn it now," Caiside reasoned.

Diedra had attempted to kill me, which was so totally out of character it wasn't even funny. An enchantment would certainly fit.

After considering him, I nodded. "Okay. I'm gonna trust you on this. But if you harm her … I'm here to tell you, you
will
regret it."

Keeping a watchful eye on Caiside, I gave the djinn the go-ahead.

The force field didn't disappear, but Caiside was able to reach into the bubble. Diedra didn't fight him when he pushed up her sleeve to touch her skin.

"As I thought," he said after their brief contact. "She is mated to a sidhe. Soulbound."

Whoa
. I hadn't necessarily expected
that
. I seemed to be a magnet for unpleasant surprises, lately.

"Right." I considered the others. "Any bets on whether Lorcán's her mate?"

Weeks ago, Kieran had mentioned that Lorcán's previous mate had committed suicide, so presumably he was unbound.

Until now, perhaps.

"The perfect spy," Alex hissed.

"He has my parents and my little sister." She stared up at me. "Lire, he has Megan! He … he …" She shook her head vehemently.

I could imagine all too readily what Lorcán had done to her family in order to elicit her cooperation. Spying on the domn wasn't a smart choice unless you had a death wish. Anyone with half a brain knew that much.

I'd met Diedra's sister a few times over the course of our time at Coventry Academy. She was five years younger than Diedra and me, and, even as a kid, it'd been easy to see Megan would grow up to be a smart woman, just as beautiful and outgoing as her big sister.

Diedra's face hardened and she glared through her tears at Alex. "This is all the domn's fault! If he'd allowed Nathan to expand his business interests, instead of being an asshole, Nathan never would have done this!"

If it were possible for Alex to look any more deadly, he managed. His fangs dripped with venom and his body coiled as though ready to strike. Without the djinn's protective bubble, no doubt Diedra would currently be in a world of hurt.

Not good, but I didn't have time to deal with it.

"Goddammit." My stomach in knots, I ran my fingers through my hair. "I have to help Brassal," I said, and then lowered my voice to a determined growl, "but right after, I'm coming back to deal with that bastard Lorcán. He has people I care about, too. We'll get them out and he'll pay for what he's done. I promise you, we'll do everything in our power to help your family."

I turned to the djinn. "Take her to Jerome and Peter's apartment. Don't let her leave and keep an eye on her to make sure she doesn't harm herself. Tell Jackie what's going on, okay?"

"As the Lire wishes," they replied. The three of them disappeared in a blink.

"Who are Jerome and Peter?" Alex's angry voice boomed through the room.

"My neighbors," I replied, ignoring his furious stance. "Kim and Jackie are house sitting for them. She'll be safe there. More importantly, it gets Lorcán out of the equation so he doesn't learn our every move." I turned to include the others in our conversation. "Do you think he's the one behind Brassal's attack? Because if you think he is, then we need to consider the possibility that rescuing him is a trap."

Poor Kim looked ready to detonate. She paced at the far side of the broken table, raking her fingers through her hair and muttering under her breath.

"I believe it would be wise to examine Diedra's conduct," Red suggested from his position on the floor, still standing a few feet from Fisk. "She resorted to extreme measures in order to prevent Lire from going to the Otherworld. If Lorcán is indeed behind Diedra's actions, you must ask yourselves why he would not want Lire to travel to the Otherworld at this time."

I frowned. "It makes no sense. It's what he wanted me to do in the first place. He took my friends hostage to coerce me into breaking Maeve out of prison. Being in the Otherworld puts me one step closer to that goal. So why would that suddenly change?"

"That's easy," Fisk said. "You're here with the Master of the Hunt. As long as he's trapped here, the
Wuldrífan
is tied up. It puts the king at a significant disadvantage."

Wade folded his arms. "I believe Lorcán's use of the strigoi rebels was calculated. Lorcán must have learned of Alex's connection to Caiside. He knew using them to attack Lire would draw out the domn and provide a means to insert Alex and his spy into our midst. And once Alex learned of Lire's abilities, Lorcán knew Lire would use Alex's ríutcloch to rescue Caiside."

"And with Lire so close at hand, the king, predictably, fell to temptation," Tíereachán said.

"That's all fine, but what are we going to do about Brassal?" Kim exclaimed, still pacing.

"Where was Brassal the last time you were connected to him?" I asked.

She stopped and turned to me, hugging herself. "The king's antechamber."

I nodded. "How far from there to the Great Hall?"

"It depends on the route," Kieran said. "The most direct is by way of a guarded passage between the king's private box and his anteroom."

I plunked down into the nearest upright chair, the one Red had been standing on earlier. "Okay. Let me feel around a bit."

When I closed my eyes and sidestepped my TK to the Great Hall, the Otherworld's plagency instantly thrummed through me, like the completion of an electric circuit.

Wow
.

"I'm there," I said, casting my net wide.

In my mind's eye, I 'saw' a cavernous space supported by colossal pillars, which stretched three stories up to the coffered ceiling above. "It seems to be a large space—holy cow—with giant carved columns, right? Jeez, this place is frickin' huge. Is there anywhere we can slip in undetected?"

Alert for signs of unrest, I poked further into the large space, feeling for the edges of the room and the entrance to the antechamber that Kieran had described.

"In the gallery, above," Kieran said, his voice taut with surprise. Apparently, the extent of my new-found powers was sinking in.

"The royal box would be the best," Kim added. "And then we can decide how to get to his antechamber."

As my magic flowed along the smooth floor, which I guessed was stone, my mental map grew to include at least one massive archway leading into a tunnel that felt big enough to fit a semi-trailer truck.

"I found an archway, but it's gigantic," I announced.