Page 42 of Against the Veil (Endangered Fae #3)
Chapter Twenty
The Asylum
“Let your plans be dark and impenetrable as night, and when you move, fall like a thunderbolt.” —Sun Tzu, The Art of War
T he figure on the bench kept his head turned away. Zack screamed at it, stunned and ashamed at his own drama queen behavior, “Why do you have to be such an arrogant prick? You never listen! You’re not listening now! Why the hell won’t you talk to me?”
Slowly, with a strange creaking sound, the head moved, swiveling toward Zack. Instead of Lugh, he faced a grinning skull. It opened a mouth full of rotted teeth and whispered, “Zachary.”
Zack bolted upright in bed, his inner scream still echoing in his head. Shit . Why did he have to have such fucked up dreams?
“Zachary…”
His heart hammered. That wasn’t any dream voice. “ Lugh?”
“Zack, my love…thank the gods…”
“Where are you?”
“Chained in a cell. I know no more than that.”
“Oh, damn. Was hoping you’d gotten free or something. Why didn’t you answer me before?”
Lugh’s mental voice sounded far off and weary, but damn, it was good to hear him and amazing that they could ‘talk’ successfully.
It might have been how long Zack had lived with lycanthropy, or how much stronger his connection was with Lugh now, but he didn’t have time to worry about why their mental bond worked better.
“They had collared me in steel. I could not call to you. Theo took pity on me and changed the collar for leather. It is still difficult. Zack…I owe you a thousand apologies. You must be terribly angry with me.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll yell at you when I’ve got you home, safe and sound. We don’t have time for this right now. If you rest and I need to call to you again, do you think you’ll be able to answer?”
“I may have a day or two, love, before I begin to fail again.”
A growl rumbled in Zack’s chest. He understood what Lugh wasn’t saying. Until the vamp kid had taken the collar off, his prince had been dying. “ I’m sure as hell not leaving you there that long. We’re coming. You stay strong and be ready to answer me if I call you, got it?”
A bit of dry humor tinged Lugh’s thoughts. “I hear and obey, my brave sergeant.”
Lugh was silent for a long moment, and Zack thought he had cut the connection. Then there came a hesitant, “ Zachary?”
“I’m here, babe.”
“I love you.”
Zack blinked hard against the sudden sting in his eyes. “ I love you, too, you big idiot. Now get some rest.”
He could picture Lugh’s smile, the feeling from him far more content as their minds drifted apart again.
Zack lay back down with his heart still hammering.
Two freaking o’clock in the morning. To force himself to rest, he began to take mental inventory of the medical supply closet off the kitchen, shelf by shelf, item by item, until his pulse slowed and he drifted back into an uneasy doze.
Minky woke with a little moan. Someone had stuffed cotton in her mouth and now played bongos in her head. She had the bad feeling this was how a hangover felt, but she hadn’t had any of the fun associated with getting one.
Some of that glowy moss stuff the fae liked lit the containment cell, so she could see her still-sleeping companions but it was hard to say what time it was. Nate had insisted on sleeping in Jasper’s room. Naturally, they’d all moved in with him.
Almost all sleeping. Brandon was sitting up on his pallet, head in his hands.
“Bran?”
He whispered without lifting his head, “Hey, little bit.”
“You don’t look so good.”
“Don’t feel so good.”
Not a big shock. Morrigan had taught them to make magical doors, using their apartment in New York as the experimental point.
Some of them managed with more success than others.
They used their power together each time, of course, but one person actually had to make the door.
Nate’s had been unstable, snapping shut before he was ready.
Kara’s had never been larger than a softball.
Brandon’s had blown a hole through reality and shattered their living room lamp. Minky couldn’t do it at all.
“Pooka blood,” Morrigan had said dryly. “Never mind, little one. This magic is not for you.”
But Will…Will’s doors had been perfect and precise. He could control the size and shape and pinpoint it exactly, opening doors to their kitchen, Nate’s bedroom and even one in the shower without damaging so much as a single tile.
They still had a lot to learn, though, and a huge way to go before it was easy for them. Too much magic in one day obviously wasn’t good for the human body.
“Mink?” Brandon whispered.
“Yeah?”
“I’m sorry.”
She sat up carefully, pillow clutched to her chest. “For what?”
“For…everything. For this whole mess. For being such a jerk sometimes. Especially to you. For dissing your ideas and stuff.”
His voice was choked and stuffy, and, damn it, Bran didn’t cry. This wasn’t right. She sighed and tried to think of nice things to say, but she wasn’t Nate, and what came out instead was, “You are a big jerk sometimes. And a complete dork about some things.”
Brandon nodded on a huge, shuddering breath.
“But you’re our Bran. We need you. Nothing would be the same without you,” she went on, her stomach shaking from speaking so directly. “Yeah, you screwed up. You get over it and fix it, right? And we’re here to help you. See, you might be a big jerk sometimes, but you’re our big jerk.”
He wiped a sleeve over his eyes and managed a dry laugh. “Thanks, I think.”
Good. That’s better, and now Will’s waking up to distract him . This, by the sound of it, really wasn’t something to celebrate. Will rolled over with a pitiful moan, then scrambled out of his blankets to grab the bucket in the corner and heaved his guts up.
It did pull Brandon out of his own misery, though, as he crawled over to comfort a now sobbing Will.
And we’re supposed to go with the assault team tonight? Yeah. This’ll work. Minky’s gloomy thoughts scattered when Eithne came into the room, a rush basket balanced against her hip.
“Ah, poor kits. You pushed yourselves too hard.” Her tail stroked Brandon’s shoulder as she went by to put the basket down next to Jasper’s bed. She stopped to lean over him first. “How do you fare, little blood stalker?”
“Hey, Doc.” Jasper looked up at her with a smile so sweet Minky could understand why Nate had such a hard crush. “Not so bad. Tons better.”
“Good. Your companions seem to be in dire need, though.” She turned to Brandon, arms held out. “Let me have him, please.”
Reluctantly, Brandon relinquished his hold on Will, letting the princess gather him close to her furred bosom. She rocked him, purring, stroking his hair, and soon Will’s breaths evened out, his taut hold on her arms relaxed.
“There now. Better?”
Will sat up with a nod. “Can you help Bran, too, please?”
Princess Eithne took Brandon’s face between her hands and kissed his eyelids.
He closed his eyes on a long sigh, and the lines of pain around his eyes eased.
She simply brushed noses with Minky and the pain and nausea drained away through the floor.
Then she woke Nate and Kara and repeated the process with them.
Oh, yeah. The whole healing thing. We definitely need to look into that when this is over.
“Now, Jasper. Sergeant Morrison would like to speak with you.”
“Um…okay?” Jasper tugged at his wrist cuff to pull himself into a sitting position.
Eithne gestured toward the wall and the silver cuffs unlocked, falling to the floor with musical clinks. “In the kitchen.” She held a warning hand up when Nate got up, apparently to go with him. “Just you, little stalker.”
“Well, I hope he doesn’t want vamp for breakfast.” Jasper’s smile couldn’t hide the shake in his voice. “Nathan? Kiss for luck, maybe?”
Nate tilted Jasper’s head up with two fingers and locked lips in a way that implied a lot more than well wishing.
“Eww.” Minky turned away with a shudder.
Jasper glared at her. “Someone have a problem with me?”
“No.” Nate gave him one last peck and turned him to the door. “With kissing.”
“Y’all are a weird bunch,” Jasper declared, shaking his head as he left them.
When the door closed, Eithne set about opening the basket she’d brought and distributing breakfast. They ate fruit and bagels with chive-infused cream cheese in silence for a few moments.
Brandon finally spoke up. “Did we just get called weird by a freaking southern-fried vampire ?”
Kara mumbled around a mouthful of grapes, “Pretty much. Yeah.”
“So they got it?” Zack watched the cream swirl patterns in his coffee as he stirred slowly.
“Some more than others.” Morrigan sniffed disdainfully at the coffee and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. “But, yes. The pretty blond made a more than passable door.”
“Guess I’m not really surprised.”
“No?”
Zack shook his head. “Will reminds of Diego. The real Diego. Yeah, he’s more emotional, less steady. But the same, I dunno, kind of aura?”
“Their connection to the world’s magic is much the same. The young one will never be as powerful as Diego, thank the gods. But they mirror each other in how they use it.” Morrigan clicked her long, black claws on the countertop, an unreadable glint in her eyes. “The pooka’s child is…interesting.”
“Leave her alone, Morri,” Zack growled. “She’s not Finn.”
“And thank the gods for that, as well.”
Zack was about to answer when a cold, sharp scent slapped him hard. The hairs on the back of his neck bristled as he whirled with a snarl to face the dangerous predator who dared to invade his territory.
The shock on Jasper’s face somehow spoiled the whole predator thing, and sure as heck negated the dangerous part. “Sergeant?” He swallowed hard and backed up a step. “You wanted to…see me?”
“Yeah. Yeah, sorry, kid.” Zack blew out a hard breath. “Just, you know, say something next time. Warn a guy. Vampire scent, territorial instincts, all that stuff, right?”
Morrigan drifted out and gave Jasper an unsubtle shove back into the kitchen.