Chapter Fourteen

 

Shim pounded on the door, cursing the fucking sunlight that was keeping him inside.

What in all the planes had happened? He felt stronger than he could ever remember feeling, and yet something as completely and utterly harmless as fucking beams of light were keeping him out of the fight.

And damn it all, he really wanted to fight.

“Where did Gilly go?” Duffy asked, his small body struggling under the weight of that sword.

“Upstairs, though if she’s become like her charge, she’s probably tied the sheets together and run.” None of the women in his life seemed to want to allow him to protect them. And he couldn’t blame them since he was stuck in this damn house.

There was a loud boom. The sound of a sonic weapon being discharged.

Shim could feel his brother’s adrenaline. It pumped through his own veins.

“They’re fighting. I thought they were doing a recon.” Duffy rushed to the door and out into the street. “Can’t see anything.”

Of course he couldn’t. Duffy was barely four feet tall. Shim was six and a half, but he couldn’t see a damn thing since he was blinded by sunlight now.

Gillian hurried down the stairs, holding her skirt in one hand. She rushed into the room and toward a small closet.

“Gilly, you told Roan you would stay here.” The thought of his sister out in the battle while he was stuck here rankled.

Gillian looked up, her dark eyes narrowed. “I’ll lie to Roan all I like. As it happens, I think I’m likely best served here.” Her arm disappeared into the closet and when it came back, Gillian was holding a bow and quiver of arrows. “Reymon likes to hunt. He’s quite good, and he’s been teaching both me and Bron. The upstairs window has a very good view. If anyone tries to sneak up the back street, I can take them out.” She stopped in front of him. “Don’t take it too badly, Shim. You’re half vampire. I’m not even a true heir.”

Gillian was a bastard by royal terms. She couldn’t inherit since her mother hadn’t been married to King Fergus and had died in childbirth.

“Our mother loved you.”

Tears filled her eyes, and she looked over at Duffy as she nodded. “Queen Constance had a heart big enough for everyone. The Unseelie were blessed with her reign. Do you know how many queens would have thrown me out? How many queens would have taken in Duffy?”

Not many, but then his mother had been an extraordinary woman. “It didn’t matter you weren’t her blood.”

“And it doesn’t matter that Bron isn’t mine. I know what I said. I meant it. You needed to make sure your claim to Bron was unassailable, but I love that child. Child. She’s a woman, but she’s also my daughter. Not by blood or birth but by sacrifice. I seek to honor my true mother, Queen Constance, in all ways, and she would never have sat idly by while others suffered. When I spoke of taking over the Tir na nÓg, it is because I love these people. I would defend them with my life. Please tell Bron that. Please don’t let her hate me.”

“No one can hate you, Gilly.” Duffy looked awkward standing there, looking up at the woman none of them had seen in thirteen years. Shim remembered how Duffy would blush every time the princess would say hello to him.

Gillian got to one knee, placing her at eye level with the gnome. “Thank you, sweet Duffy. I did not say it earlier, but it is so good to see you again.”

Duffy’s face flushed and his eyes turned down. “It is good to be able to place me eyes on you once more, Your Highness.”

Gillian laughed. “None of that, brother.”

She stood, the bow in her hand. “I will watch our backs. Duffy, please shout up if anyone is coming for the front of the store.” She winked down at the gnome and fled up the stairs.

“I am not your brother.” Duffy said it so quietly Shim almost missed it.

Poor Duffy. So in love with a woman he couldn’t have. “Duffy, are you all right?”

“Sure thing, Shim. I’ll patrol.” Duffy cleared his throat and walked outside.

Shim felt helpless. Gods, he was utterly useless. For the last thirteen years he’d been so weak, and now that he had some modicum of strength back, the sunlight was holding him in.

“Shim!”

He ran to the door. Duffy was pointing off in the distance. “That cloud is covering up the sun.”

He was right. Sure enough there were far more shadows and shade than there had been but minutes before. He stepped out and his eyes burned, but he could walk in this. “I need to find Bron.”

Lach would want him to. Lach would want to fight the battles while Shim took care of their wife. He felt his twin’s deep satisfaction with that idea. Since they had been on the same plane as their bondmate, he and his twin had been so much more in synch even without the deepest of bonds.

Lach was fighting. Shim could feel it. He closed his eyes, and he could see it in little flashes. Lach bringing his sword down and skewering an opponent, strength flowing through his veins like never before. They were outnumbered, but not for long. Every foe they brought down became Lachlan’s. The enemy didn’t just lose a fighter. With every death they gained another opponent.

Shim grimaced. Even this low light hurt his eyes. He closed them and searched for some fire. It sparked to his fingertips, but he hesitated to use it. The villagers were running. The scene was far too chaotic. If he started a fire here, how many innocents would he lose?

Bronwyn. He needed to concentrate on Bron.

He opened his mind and sought their connection. Even with her shields up, he knew she was alive. He simply couldn’t see through her eyes or feel what she was feeling.

He could, however, tell that she was close.

And she wasn’t the only one. Four guards rounded the corner and began walking down the narrow street. Shim pulled Duffy in. He was carrying an axe. No matter how small he was, the guards wouldn’t like that. Fire pricked at Shim’s fingertips. He could roast them, but the street was so narrow and the roofs around him were all thatched with straw. One errant flame and the village would go up. It had been easier in the town square. There had been room to maneuver.

“You!” The largest of the guards shouted at Shim. “Bring out your women. The king requires all women to report to the town square for inspection.”

Shim didn’t like the sound of that. Gillian was in the store. He had to hope she was doing what she’d said she would do, manning the rear window. “We don’t have any women. It’s just me and my brother.”

The guards took in Duffy.

“Well, lookee here. The mayor of this town is lax. A fucking gnome. Don’t you know your kind aren’t welcome here, you little piece of shit. No non-sidhe. Looks like we’ll have some fun tonight. You’ll look good on the end of a pike, wee one.”

The guard laughed, bringing the others in.

Duffy, not one to shrink back, walked up, his axe in his hand. “Now I’d like to know what you think to do with those women. I can’t think of any good reason to call forth all the women of a town. What kind of men do you call yourselves?”

The biggest of the guards stiffened, his limbs taking a predatory stance. “I call meself loyal is what I call me. And the king has decreed your kind to be undesirable and all who would aid you to be traitors. Now I think it’s about time to take care of this. Glannis didn’t tell us to bring non-sidhe to her so we can do whatever we like to these two the way I sees it.”

Why the hell didn’t he have a sword in his hand? Perhaps because his father had thought him too weak to hold one. Perhaps because until he’d had first blood, he had been too weak to really wield one.

And Duffy wasn’t smart enough to run. He hefted his axe and swaggered out into the street. “I think we’ll have to see about that. And I won’t let you hurt a bunch of women.”

“The wee one thinks he’s a warrior.” The guards began to circle in a predatory fashion, like jackals looking for an easy meal.

Shim stepped behind his adopted brother. “Duffy, I think we should go back inside.”

“That option is gone now,” another guard said. “We don’t let fucking gnomes talk to us that way. And they’re certainly not going to threaten us with axes.”

There was another sonic boom. It startled the guards and gave Shim a chance to focus. He let the fire build in his fingers. He couldn’t torch the fuckers the way he wanted to, but he could try to take them out one by one. The fire sizzled along his skin. It was so much easier now. The power was right there at his fingertips. He could tap it without losing control. It was his.

One of the guards put a hand on him. Shim let the power fill him.

There was a scream and the guard fell back, holding his hand up. It was already blistering. Shim could feel his power. It wasn’t just in his hands or flowing from his gut. He was his power.

He sent out a little flame from his fingertips, catching the nearest guard’s tunic. The guard stepped away from Duffy, trying to put out the flames.

But Duffy was too close to the others. He was wielding his axe, proving that he’d taken his training seriously. He caught one guard squarely in the chest, but he didn’t have the strength of a larger man. The axe struck, but it clanged and bounced back off, sending Duffy to his ass in the dirt.

Shim was just about to send fire to the guard standing above Duffy when he hissed as a terrible pain caught him on the bicep. Blood flowed down his left arm, soaking his tunic.

Duffy rolled, balling up his small body and narrowly missing the sword that descended toward his neck. He somersaulted his way to Shim and kicked out, catching the guard nearest him in the knees.

But now they were surrounded, and Shim couldn’t feel his left hand. His right sparked, a little blast of fire, but his control was shot and his eyes were still affected by the sunlight. It peeked through the eddy cloud, causing little pockets of blindness.

He could see vague shadows circling them.

“That fucker is using magic. Didn’t you know we kill witches here, son?” a hoarse voice asked.

“He burned me. Don’t touch him. He has some sort of spell on him.”

“Aim for his heart. He might have a spell, but he ain’t got no armor.”

Shim could feel Duffy at his side, but the gnome had lost his axe. The sun passed again, and Shim’s sight came back. He rather wished it hadn’t, since now he could see the men who would kill him. Even the ones he’d managed to burn were back on their feet.

“Let’s have some fun with them, boys, what do you say?” the biggest of the guards said.

“Now would be the time for you to start up with the fireballs, Shim,” Duffy said. “I think a little flame-roasted guard would do us some good.”

Shim held out his only usable arm, and the shot went wild sending an arc of flame straight to the house across from him. The roof went up like tinder, scorching across the straw and catching both houses beside it.

Fuck all. There were Fae in those houses. He could hear a faint screaming and wondered how many innocents he’d hurt.

The guards looked up and then turned back, settling on their target. Shim.

And then there was a low growl and a wolf pounced. Delicate and graceful and ruthless. The wolf leapt on the guard who had been about to charge and had her teeth around his sword arm. Hoarse shouts filled the air. Shim grabbed Duffy, prepared to run when the guard next to him suddenly groaned and looked down at the long knife in his chest. Whoever had thrown that fucker didn’t have Duffy’s strength problems.

“Get down!” A feminine voice shouted.

Shim sank to the ground, covering his brother as two arrows sped over him.

When Shim looked up, all four guards were dead and he’d been saved by a bunch of women.

Bronwyn walked through the smoke, her face a mask of willpower. She was a fucking gorgeous warrior goddess, and despite the pain in his arm and the panic in his gut, his cock got hard at the very sight of her.

“Put those fires out, Shim.” Gillian walked from the doorstep, bow in hand.

Bronwyn pulled her knife free of the guard’s armor, wiping the blood off on her pants. She looked down at Shim, her eyes softening a bit. “Please, Shim. If you can put that fire out, I would be grateful.”

The fire winked out as though she had more control over his power than he did.

Bronwyn held out a hand. “Now let’s go use that power of yours on someone who deserves it. What do you say, Shim? Do you want to help me kill a hag?”

Gillian was at his side, her hand on his arm. “I don’t know if he’s going to be doing much of anything for a while. That arm is bad. He’s lost a lot of blood.”

“I’ll be fine.” Shim struggled to get up. His brother was starting to get into trouble. Shim could feel it. He couldn’t let Lach down or Bron. She’d come back when it would have made more sense for her to run. Perhaps she’d only come back to save her village, but it didn’t matter. She was here, and Shim wasn’t about to let a little thing like massive blood loss stop him from helping her. He tried to get to his feet.

Kaja shifted, her body forming into her two-legged state. Gillian took a step back.

“She’s fine, Gilly,” Bron said in a stiff-sounding voice. “She’s Dante’s consort.”

“Damn me, she’s naked.” Duffy just stared. His brother wasn’t one to let near death interrupt his deep appreciation of the female form.

Kaja looked down at his arm. “I am Dante’s consort so I happen to know that anytime Dante is injured, he feeds. Consort blood heals. Cousin Bronwyn, if you want your husband in this fight, you’ll have to sacrifice a little blood.”

Bron sighed, but she rolled up her sleeve. “Fine, but don’t do that thing where I end up a heap of boneless flesh at the end. I need to fight, too.”

Shim knew Lach would argue. Lach would tell him it was the perfect solution. Shim would get his strength back and the very act of pulling Bronwyn in would rob her of hers.

And she wouldn’t trust him again. She’d saved him. She’d returned when she could have run. Perhaps it was time to start trusting his bondmate.

He let his fangs pop out. Yes, the naked girl was right. He could feel it now. Bronwyn glowed for him, a sweet golden aura around her body. It made her stand out. He looked up, his every vampire sense open now. Kaja glowed, too, and damn him if Gillian didn’t glow.

“Roan is right about you, Gilly.”

Gillian frowned. “Roan can be right all he likes, it won’t help him.”

And then Bronwyn’s left wrist was right at his mouth. Shim couldn’t help it. He brought it to his mouth and bit down. When the blood hit his tongue, he knew the true sweetness of life.

He sucked and dragged her pure blood into his body, health flowing into him. Power encompassing him. More than just blood filled him. She invaded his veins, her life, her heart, her spirit. They all soared inside him.

She was shaking by the time he let go, but she straightened up quickly. She rolled her sleeve back down. She’d obviously felt the connection, too.

Shim stood, feeling his strength like the sweetest drug. He grabbed Bronwyn’s hand and pulled her to him. Her face fell.

“And now you’re going to shove me off to the side, aren’t you, Shim?”

He shook his head. Gods, but he loved the feel of her so close to him. “I’m going to kiss my wife before we go and save Lach. Just be careful, love. I don’t want to lose you.”

Finally, he’d managed to say something she didn’t have a comeback to. He brushed his lips against her and turned.

Lach was in trouble.

 

* * * *

 

The hag wouldn’t stop. Lach skewered her soldiers. The minute he felt death descend on the fallen, Lach brought his power to grip them and reanimate their bodies. The dead rose and fought against their former brethren.

But the hag had other plans.

Lach hissed as a searing pain hit his chest. He felt a squeezing sensation as though someone had reached right through his skin and bone and caught his heart in their hand.

He fell to his knees, Roan sliding down beside him. “Your Highness, we should think about retreating. She’s got a heavy shield around her. She’s letting the soldiers die, but we can’t get to her. I’ve tried sonics on her three times now and they bounce off. Two of my men are down because the bounce back hit them. One’s dead and the other is out cold.”

Roan’s words hit his ears, but they sounded distant.

You can’t win, Death Lord.

The hag’s voice seemed to be the only thing he could hear. It filled his ears, crowding out everything else.

Your power is too close to mine, and I’ve been using mine for far longer. I’ll let these sheep die in my place. I’ll focus on you. You’re the important one here. Tell me where Bronwyn Finn is.

Fuck all. Lach hit his head on the hard dirt. She was inside his mind. He could feel her there, picking through his memories. Cold prickles caught in his mind, the hag plucking from here and there.

Staring down at his brother’s body and knowing he was gone. Shim was gone. Bron was gone. Lach’s worst nightmare. He was half a man and alone in all the planes. He couldn’t stand it. His power flared for the first time.

Standing over a woman, her lovely body spread out for his pleasure. He’d tied the knots perfectly, loving the deep concentration it had required. Bondage was a dance between three partners, and he loved the rhythm. But not the woman. He couldn’t give her what she wanted because he’d given his soul to one woman when he was just a child. She held his soul, his heart. It was only logical that she owned his cock, too. Lach turned away, knowing his desires would have to burn through him. There was no relief here.

Listening to his father talk to his advisors. Humiliation was a rolling wave as they spoke about the fragile princes. Shim was weak in body and they worried Lach’s mind wasn’t strong. Lach didn’t try to defend himself. It wouldn’t make a difference. They wouldn’t listen. If only they would bond, the king bemoaned.

I am bound. I am bound. I am bound.

And yet he was alone.

The hag continued her tour of his brain, seeking knowledge. He felt her satisfaction that he was bound to Bronwyn. It was something she could use, but where was the bitch? The question pounded through him.

Where is Bronwyn?

Each time she asked, his heart squeezed tighter. The hag was everywhere, in every cell of his being, crawling across every inch of his skin. He could smell the rank scent of the hag filling his nose and the clammy touch of her hand on his head.

This was what she wanted to do to Bronwyn. He could see it plainly. The hag wanted Bronwyn for much more than just a quick execution. She wanted to take her time with Bronwyn. She was curious. Bronwyn had survived when she shouldn’t have. The hag wanted to know why, and when she figured it out she would find a way to make that power her own.

The vision of what the hag really wanted made Lach gag. He felt bile bubbling up. The hag had him in her hand. He didn’t know where Bronwyn was. He said it like a mantra. Over and over until he was singing it in his head.

Then you are of no use to me.

That cold hand squeezed, and Lach’s heart skittered and froze, an aching agony invading every inch of his limbs. He wasn’t Lachlan anymore. He was pain. He was despair. All the loneliness he’d ever felt seemed to have been distilled and poured down his throat like a noxious poison.

This was how he ended. This was what he’d been moving toward all of his life.

And then it stopped, the hand on his heart pulled away. Lach felt the dirt on his face, but he could only groan.

“Your Highness, we need to move.” Roan had a hand on his arm, pulling him up.

“What he means is we’re getting our asses kicked. Move yours, McIver.” Dellacourt didn’t mince words.

Lach forced himself to focus. The dead lay all around him, but the hag had cut his connection to them when she’d found her way inside his brain. Without the added soldiers, they were woefully outnumbered and Lach was still feeling muddled.

He struggled to his feet, reaching for his sword. The villagers had come out in mass. They fought for their daughters and wives and sisters. They fought with pitchforks and frying pans and bows and arrows.

“What made her stop?” Lach asked.

“Bron.” Roan pointed to spot a hundred feet to the left where Bronwyn stood staring at the hag.

As though the hag had a direct line to the remaining soldiers’ brains, they all turned, abandoning their personal fights and started toward Bronwyn.

“No.” Lach didn’t give a shit how unsteady he was. He wasn’t letting that fucking hag get close to Bron. He pulled free of Roan.

“Lachlan, don’t.”

But Lach wasn’t listening. He had to get to Bronwyn before those soldiers did.

Gillian stood to the side and Duffy close to her. Shim was next to Bronwyn, his eyes watching as the soldiers came near.

“I want that bitch alive.” The hag’s voice echoed through the square.

Of course she wanted Bron alive. She wanted to dissect her and find out what made her tick. The image of what the hag intended to do to his bondmate made Lach run toward her, willing to do just about anything to keep it from becoming truth.

Bron put a hand out to Shim, who just stood there doing absolutely nothing. Nothing at all. His twin simply stood there like he was perfectly happy to let the soldiers take her. Duffy turned, and his small face went white with surprise. He dropped his axe and started running Lachlan’s way.

“Lach, no.”

Duffy hit his center with the force of a very small but stubbornly powerful train. Lach was knocked back, his ass hitting the dirt, his sword falling from his hand.

Duffy leapt up, putting a hand on his chest. “Let Shim do his job.”

Lach sat up, ready to get to his feet and throw himself in front of his bondmate when he noticed that the fighting had stopped. The villagers had moved back, disappearing into houses or creeping close to walls. And all eyes were on one woman. Bronwyn.

The soldiers began to rush, but Bron nodded Shim’s way and there was a whooshing sound that filled the air. Heat smoldered as a ring of fire appeared, surrounding the soldiers and trapping them in a neat cage of flames.

But his brother wasn’t satisfied. The flames grew and engulfed the soldiers, their dying cries filling the air.

It was all over in seconds, the flames so hot they disintegrated everything that had stood in the ring.

Shim turned to the hag, a smile on his face. With a flick of his wrist, he sent a long line of white and blue flames toward the hag.

“Damn it. Get down!” Roan roared over the crowd.

Lach hit the deck, taking Duffy with him just as Shim’s flames hit the shield the witch had in play and bounced back toward them. Scalding heat brushed over Lach, reminding him that he knew what it meant to be caught in his brother’s power.

“Sorry!” Shim yelled his way. “I didn’t know about the shielding.”

Bron stepped forward, not seeming to care that there was still a powerful hag who had been sent to ensure her death. “Did my uncle send you?”

The hag smiled showing perfectly even teeth that seemed a bit too sharp for her face. “The king sends his greetings, Princess Bronwyn, and promises a glorious family reunion.”

“I don’t think I’ll take him up on that just yet.” Bron stood, her shoulders back. “You aren’t welcome in my village, hag.”

The hag sighed, her elegant gown moving with the sound. “I know when to take my toys and go home. By the way, dear, I spent some time in that one’s head. A dark thing he is. Be careful that he doesn’t eat you up with his ambition. He wants the crown. He’ll say he loves you to get it, but you don’t think the Unseelie will really accept a Seelie queen now, do you? Good luck, dear. Even if you get a crown, it won’t mean much when your head is separated from your body. And, Death Lord, I have a parting gift for you.”

The air around the hag shimmered, and then her hands flew out, a visible cloud racing his way.

Just before it engulfed him, Duffy leapt, tossing his body into the cloud. Darkness covered the gnome, enveloping his body until there was nothing of him that wasn’t black smoke.

Duffy screamed. Lach started to reach for him, but Roan and Dellacourt pulled him back.

“Don’t you dare. You can’t help him now,” Roan said, pushing him back.

Shim tried to get to Duffy, too, but Bronwyn got in his way. “Please.”

The eddy cloud shifted as the hag disappeared once more into its depths. The sky cleared and brilliant sunlight rained down.

Shim dropped to his knees, covering his eyes. Lach squinted, trying to see his little brother, the truly fierce one of their clan.

The cloud was gone and Duffy remained. His body was still, so still. Lach pushed past the vampires whose implants were safely guarding them from the sun’s bright rays. Lach struggled himself, but Gillian and Bronwyn had covered Shim. They struggled to get him under the cover of the buildings.

Lach put a hand on Duffy’s chest, praying for the beat of his heart.

One eye opened. “Damn me, Lach, but that was something.” Duffy sat, flexing his muscles. “I don’t think I like that hag. I’d rather just fight soldiers. A sword has got to hurt less than that damn cloud.”

“Come along, Your Highness. You must both be fitted with the proper devices to protect you from the sun. It won’t take long. One little pinch and it’s over. Well, one really long, horrifyingly painful pinch and it’s over, but we won’t have to worry about ultraviolet light again.” Roan helped him stand. “Hurry. She’ll be back. We have to move and quickly. We need to make the forest by dark or they’ll find us for sure.”

Lach stumbled toward the shade where Bron sat with Shim. Her chin came up, a stubborn look on her pretty face.

She’d run. She hadn’t stayed and discussed the situation with them. If she had, they could have run the minute the eddy cloud had shown up.

He and his bride were due for a very long talk. And perhaps it was time he put the relationship on the proper footing, starting with the wayward princess feeling her husband’s hand on her ass.

In the background, he could hear Dellacourt yelling at his wife and threatening all manner of punishment.

Yes, it was time his bride learned the meaning of discipline.