TIED (A Fire Born Novel) (28 page)

Justice wails, leaving his brother, and collides into the assailant, his horns impaling a scaled hide, knocking them both off their feet, but he’s dragged to a standing position by a flurry of henchmen and held in a vice grip, tapered claws puncturing his throat.

“So unnecessary, all of this. A shame, really.” The Leanaan Sidhe frowned.

A roar of wind launches her into the living room wall, skull cracking against plaster.

Max leans back, gripping his ribs, blood seeping through his shirt. “I don’t know what you’re after, but this is over.”

The Vampyress rises to her feet, a smear of blood staining the white wall behind her. Her unhinged smile widens, revealing deadly points at the tips of gleaming teeth, as she rubs the back her head with a bloody hand. “That wasn’t very nice.”

“Take your entourage and leave. I’d rather not hurt you.” Miniature funnel clouds manifest out of nowhere, flinging chunks of glass and debris throughout the house.

A smirk plays on the Leanaan Sidhe’s pink mouth, and she inches her arm out, allowing glass to slice into her flesh, blood splattering the floor in a spray. “You don’t really want me to go. She holds her other hand out, and the scars on Max’s neck shine bright.

He steps forward as if caught in a tractor beam and reaches for her.

She grips his hand. “I own you now.” Her lulling tone turns wicked.

“You … own … nothing.” Max’s snarl, rasped and drawn, lessens as he struggles for breath and yanks his hand away.

“I didn’t want it to be like this.” She comes closer, whispering, “I only wanted you. I thought you felt the same way.” She gestures to the figures on the roof.

They descend at her glance, snaking down from the ceiling in spirals of smoke.

“These are Sluagh.” She raises her arms to them. “Spirits of the dead.” With a snap, more black-winged reptilian creatures circle the room. “And these are their steeds. Although this variety does hate to be ridden. Not very … horse-like, are they?” She laughs. “Vengeful creatures, really. You might also know them as The Hunt. Fighters more than mounts, really. And they do despise sunlight, but”—she shrugs—”they get the job done.” She glances over her shoulder at a mute and dazed Devon, and winks before hungrily looking Max up and down, biting her lower lip.

He struggles to stand, sweat beading on his forehead. “Don’t do this.”

“You left me no choice.” She leans into him. “You’re not planning to fight, I hope?” She lowers her voice to a raw whisper touching her lips to his ear. “I’ll let you in on a little secret. You’re outnumbered.”

As she kisses the scars down his neck, he buckles, and the Steeds and Sluagh swarm like angry bees behind her.

• • •

I screamed in my sleep, and my body shuddered with the force of emotion, throwing me to the floor, releasing me from the trance. I yanked off the tangle of blankets wrapped around my legs and rose to my feet, pulling heat and rage into my palms, my arms, my core, feeding off the crawl of feathers shivering down my back.

The familiar sound of shuffling feet moved in close behind me. “You underestimate your Twin Soul, Kindred.”

I didn’t turn to face my grandmother, permitting my heat, my fear, to overtake my senses and fuel my rage.

“MacKenzie has protected you for far longer than you realize. He is quite capable of fighting alone. Stay.”

“I can’t.” My jaw clenched under the words, refusing her reason to invade my thoughts.

“The Raven cannot help you in this. She feeds on your anger. Do not allow her to control you.”

I nodded once, pushed away the itching crawl of feathers as best I could, and spun from the cave mouth, her words continuing in my head as though she were spinning beside me, as though she could speak to me the way I’d thought only Max could.

“Control your fire, Kindred. It is as much a curse as it is a gift.”

I looked back for a fleeting second, cliff faces and jagged rocks fusing into a brownish blur. My grandmother stood in the cave mouth, her stooped form whirring past my vision.

A pang of guilt washed over me.
“I’ll be back.”

“I hope that is true.”

28

Through a whirling blur, I took in the rooftops dotting the ground and spotted Max’s house sitting like a speck against the vast empty beach. The bluish hue lining the traces of the boundary showed no more Scaths, nor could I detect the electric hum that usually vibrated in the atmosphere.

Furniture lay strewn across the obliterated deck. Shredded gauze curtains swayed outside shattered windows upstairs amid frames ripped to splinters.

My feet hit ground, sinking into wet sand, and I peered into the house through what was left of the fragmented French doors.

Strips of wood flooring had cracked loose and jutted up, damp and discolored, as though a storm surge had engulfed the foundation’s concrete pilings, and sea water flooded the downstairs. In its wake, broken glass covered every surface in sight and scratches and water residue mauled white walls.

Listening for movement or sound, I scoured the destruction before rounding the doorway, careful to place my feet within the undamaged sections of floor and not lose my balance.

I sneaked inside the family room by leaning against the wall, and peeked around the corner. Encased in a steel cage, Justice swung upside down from the only remaining rafter left to stabilize the ruined ceiling, his gargoyle talons gripping a linked steel chain. His gaze moved rapidly around the room, and it landed on me hunched low to the ground before veering toward Devon whose unconscious body draped the staircase.

My fingernails cut into my palms at the sight.

At the far end of the living room, Sam paced, the mutterings he spilled under his breath seemingly aimed at someone lying near his feet.

My head hit the wall as I flung myself back into the family room, breaths racing, steeling myself to enter the fray.

“I told you both not to act without my order.” Sam’s low tone seemed almost sad, disappointed. “Why can’t you ever listen?” He stopped and shook his head toward Tristan, pinned under a fallen beam.

“What the hell are you doing, man?” Justice rattled the metal bars holding him captive.

“You think I wanted this? I told you both to stay away from Max for a few days. A few days! That’s all I asked. Now look at you.” He exhaled. “Right in the middle of everything!”

“Let me up!” Tristan tried to force the rafter away from his leg with no use.

“If I let you go, I’m dead.” Sam lowered his voice to a whisper. “Dead. What am I supposed to do?”

“The right thing!” Tristan groaned from the floor. “You’re not one of them. We trusted you.”

With fists balled, I walked through the blown out doorway into the heart of the destruction, glaring at Sam, blood heating my entire body.

Sam strode through the wreckage toward me and crossed his arms over his chest. “I wasn’t sure you’d come.” A shadow crossed his face. “Then again, I didn’t think you’d walk away from Max, either. Braver than I thought you were.”

“Funny, I’d say you were more cowardly than I thought you were.” I flexed my fingers. “I take it Benny doesn’t know you’re a traitor?” I raised an eyebrow. “Now tell me where Max is.”

“Layla, don’t.” Justice swung above me, trying to free himself.

Sam’s eyes darkened. “I’m doing this for her … for us. So we can finally be together the right way.” He aimed his gaze toward the ground. “She deserves better than me … better than one of the Fallen. I can be free again. Worthy.”

“By turning spy? Betraying people who trusted you?” I glanced at Tristan. “I’m just guessing, but I don’t think allowing your friend to be crushed to death will set you free.”

“Shut up!” His body turned rigid, stone bleeding through human flesh as horns protruded from his scalp and fangs cut through gums, until his gargoyle form towered over me with chest heaving.

“Sam—” Justice’s tone deepened. “You’re taking this too far.”

Footfalls clapped against wood, and long lean legs came into view down the stairs. “You’re still here?” The Leanaan Sidhe waved her hand in Sam’s direction, her gaze falling on me. “A little late to the party, aren’t we?” A Steed followed in her wake, its leathery wings dragging along the stairs.

“Oh, wait—what a terrible host I am. I should introduce myself properly. The
real
me.” She smiled and turned in a circle. “Yes, yes, I know—how could I have possibly chosen your friend’s form over my own.” She shrugged. “What can I say? Beauty becomes me.” Her shiny brown hair fell over her shoulders. “We’re just cleaning up the mess.” She smirked, a finger sweeping over Devon’s unconscious body. “Let’s play nice with our guest, Samuel.” She placed a hand on his shoulder as she stopped beside him, and he transformed back into human form. “King Elethan might not be too happy if he knew you were threatening his son’s twin soul.” She threw her head back and laughed, showing her sharp stark white teeth. “Come to think of it, he may not be pleased with you rushing to the aide of your friends either.”

Sam’s stance grew rigid.

“Maybe you should run along now.” She patted him and winked. “I promise I won’t tell anyone you were here.”

Sam took a hesitant step and glanced back.

“Run along.” She shooed him. “I’ll make sure the gargoyles are well taken care of.”

“Yeah, run along now, Sam.” I glared at him.

“Layla—”

“Silence the gargoyle.” At the Leanaan Sidhe’s command, a whip cut across Justice’s back wielded by the Steed at her side, and Sam took flight, transforming once again as his head cleared the open roof.

“Where’s Max?” I took a step forward.

“He’s … incapacitated at the moment. Is there something I can assist you with?” She smiled in a ‘Susie Homemaker’ way, folding her painted pink fingers together as if we were standing in the center of a photo shoot for a picture-perfect home.

“Where. Is. He?”

The Leanaan Sidhe’s lips curved into an ugly sneer, and her reptilian minions materialized from the second story landing above us before turning toward me as one. Behind them, a countless number of black-cloaked assassins appeared, their blank silvery eyes boring into my own. As one, they separated just enough to tease me with a peek at Max.

With a sharp intake of breath, and surge of searing heat, my mind clouded. I focused on Max, his body beaten and bruised, and my mind cleared.

The corner of his mouth, stained with blood, pulled up in a hint of a smile before vanishing.
“Go back, Layla.”

“I never should’ve left you in the first place.”

He faced the floor.
“Don’t look directly at the Sluagh. Their silver eyes are a kind of mind control.”

My stomache lurched at the thought, and I played off my desire to set all the assassins ablaze with abandon while praying I hadn’t just swaggered into my own funeral.

The black winged steeds took up my rear at the vampyress’ nod, like mindless militant slaves. Their excessively long arms swept the floor at their feet, bodies hunched over with malformed leathery wings thrusting out at odd angles, as if they’d been broken several times but never healed.

My teeth ground under my clamped jaw as I further realized Max’s sickened state, while eyeing the Leanaan Sidhe and avian serpents flanked my sides. I scrutinized the hunters—my true enemies, and rolled my neck in a vain attempt at self-restraint, trying not to eye any of them directly in fear of whatever mind control they might possess.

“How about
you
deal with me, instead of letting all your minions be your barrier?”

Four-inch heels scratched grooves into the wood floors as the Leanaan Sidhe sauntered between the Sluagh patrolling Max. “So you can try to set me on fire again? No thanks. I prefer the beautiful one, no offense. He’s a little less for wear, but he’ll do.” She smiled and looked over her shoulder. “He wants me, too. Don’t you, Max?”

My throat constricted, cutting off, as the scars on his neck blazed, and a single line of blood streamed down his skin. Frayed breath escaped his lungs in spurts, and he hunched over gripping his throat. “Let him go.” I stepped forward, and the Steeds followed suit.

“Layla, don’t.” Max pressed his fingertips into the wall at his back, swaying like he might pass out.

“Now, now. Don’t fight, you two.” The Leanaan Sidhe laughed. “I’d play nice if I were you, Teine. You don’t want me to unleash my friends on your boyfriend again, do you?” She waved her hand. “What am I saying …
boyfriend
? As if he would ever choose
you
over
me
.” She shook her head as if the idea was absurd. “Momentary lapse of reason.” She raised her chin toward the gash in the ceiling, a turbulent sky brewing.

Scaths lowered into the house in silence, their luminescence flickering like blue flames inside sheer bodies; shrieking wails, flooded my brain.

I pressed my hands to my ears, squeezing my eyes shut, attempting to push the sickening pull away, as my name repeated over and over again.

“Stop!” Max’s shout resonated through the house.

The noise ceased, releasing me, and I opened my eyes to the Leanaan Sidhe’s wicked grin. “Didn’t like that, did you?”

I steadied my breathing, averting my glare, refusing to allow her any control.

“You remember everyone, I hope?” She gestured to the army of henchmen and grinned as an opaque fog infiltrated the house, surrounding me like a sandstorm. Ice spread across the busted wood floor, frigid cold seeping into my bones, and a thousand screams erupted inside my head, paralyzing me.

“Block it out, Layla. You’re stronger than they are.”

Chills cascaded over my skin, and I forced the heat in my body to rise, focusing on Max.

“It’s just you and me, Lay.”

The Leanaan Sidhe strode through my sight line. “It seems a united front would have worked much better from the start. Perhaps the Scaths were not strong enough on their own, but …” She sneered. “… alongside the Sluagh and their steeds, they are enough to rip you both to shreds.” She glanced back toward Max. “He doesn’t look so good, does he?” She pouted, watching me as I tried to control and throw off the forces unleashed into the room.