Page 10

Lach

The stench of antiseptic and anxiety hung inside Gage Memorial. Now I knew why I’d never bothered to step foot inside the hospital that bore my family’s name.

Despite my desire to go alone, I was outvoted, because apparently under Ciara’s rule, we were now a fucking democracy. That’s why she was here: to be the reasonable one. I suspected that Roark had come to be the muscle if she needed to keep me in check. Even with both of them chaperoning, we’d wasted twenty minutes bickering over whether or not it was safe to venture into this part of town while Ciara’s phone rang incessantly. It seemed every creature in New Orleans needed a piece of her.

Roark eyed me as Ciara strode up to the desk to speak with the nurse on duty.

“Are you doing all right?” he asked when I remained silent.

“Fine,” I grunted. The yarrow had officially worn off, and along with the torturous prickle of magic healing me, I was increasingly aware of a different pain.

I felt like I’d been ripped in half, like I was bleeding out, like I was going to die. I had no idea where Cate was, but she was in danger. I felt it like the mark on my own neck. I was running out of time to find her.

Roark studied me for a moment. He knew me too well to buy it. Even without the signet ring connecting our thoughts, he knew what I was thinking. Sympathy softened his eyes, but before he could speak, Ciara waved to us.

“Let’s go,” she called.

Roark followed dutifully, and I fell into step beside him, but as soon as we were through the double doors, a nurse stepped into our path and held up a hand to block us.

“Can I help you?” She eyed us over her reading glasses like she could see past the glamour Ciara had placed on me before we left. Using my magic was still too dangerous. But the nurse only frowned. “Visitors aren’t allowed back here.”

“Lachlan!” Garcia rushed toward us, fumbling with his stethoscope as he tugged his lab coat on. He paused to give the nurse a sharp look. “Haley, they’re with me.”

But she didn’t budge. “Lachlan? Lachlan Gage?”

Was she a nurse or security? I nodded, starting to move past her. Garcia fell into step beside us.

Haley followed, eyeing me critically. “Where is Cate? She hasn’t visited her brother once, and who is that guy hanging around? Is Channing in trouble again?”

Ciara stepped in before I could answer. “Cate has been sick,” she lied smoothly, though I could see the strain in her eyes. “She can’t risk exposing Channing or anyone else here.”

“That’s what you keep telling me.”

So they knew each other.

“It’s the truth.” Ciara held her gaze.

Haley pursed her lips, clearly not buying the story. “Cate never called in sick once the entire time we worked together. If you think that I—”

“Nevertheless,” Garcia interjected, “Cate isn’t here right now. I’m sure she will come when she can. I believe there’s a patient waiting in room two.” He gestured toward the other side of the emergency room.

Haley’s jaw worked like she was biting back a retort, but she marched off.

“Cate is missed,” Garcia said apologetically.

His words hit me in the one spot the blood apple’s magic couldn’t heal. I nodded numbly as we continued into the private section of the emergency room that was reserved for members of my crew. Nearly a dozen doctors and nurses were clustered around a station, and I turned to Garcia in surprise. “How many of our people are back here?”

We kept the hospital supplied with the latest technology and hired the best fae and human doctors in exchange for a certain level of discretion. For some reason, it looked like every member of that carefully selected staff was present.

“It’s unusual to have a human here,” Garcia explained, “and quite a few of them heard that a vampire…”

“Get rid of them,” I said through gritted teeth.

“They’re simply interested in the healing—”

“Now,” I added.

He tilted his head. “Of course.”

That was the chief of medicine’s real job: to obey me. He started toward them, already barking his own orders, and the staff scattered.

“He’s in that one.” Ciara pointed to a room across the hall.

Monitors beeped rhythmically as we entered, tracking every aspect of Channing’s fragile condition. But it was all just background noise compared to the crushing weight of worry that sat heavily on my chest.

“Lach,” Shaw greeted me, but he wasn’t alone. His companion was the opposite of my red-haired brother in every way, from his dark-brown skin and cropped hair to the nearly black eyes. But his gloves gave him away as a vampire.

“Where’s Baptiste?” I asked, eyes narrowing on him.

“She sent me.” A smooth smile slid onto his face as he extended a hand. “Dante. I know your brother from school. We—”

“Do you know why you’re here?” I cut him off.

He glanced at Shaw. My brother lifted his eyebrows as if to say, I told you so .

“Baptiste told me to do whatever you asked.” He nodded. “And she told me to tell you that you’re going to owe her.”

“You’ll definitely pay for this favor later,” Roark muttered, casting a sidelong glance in my direction. Until recently, he’d shared a psychic link with me courtesy of our matching signet rings. But I’d entrusted my ring to Ciara in my absence, which meant Roark had to share his frequent warnings with everyone in the room.

“Whatever it takes.”

He nodded subtly—a silent promise that we’d do everything in our power to make that happen.

“We need him awake,” I ordered Dante, my voice tense.

Surprise registered on his face. The fae had access to vampire healing magic; our blood apples grown from their blood and venom sped our healing when consumed, as did ambrosia, the wine we made from the fruit. But strictly speaking, I was out of line asking a vampire to heal a human . It wasn’t against any laws, exactly, but the Vampire Council frowned on it. Baptiste would make certain they didn’t find out…for a price. One that would be determined at a later date.

“We can extract my venom,” he offered. “It will be more sanitary, but we’ll need—”

“We don’t have time. Do what you have to do.”

Dante didn’t ask more questions, drawing a small knife from his pocket and making a shallow cut on his wrist. Blood welled up, pooling around the incision before he pressed it to Channing’s lips. But that was only half the process. Dante reared back, eyes going pitch-black before he sank his fangs into Channing’s neck to deposit his venom. One quick bite and he stood back up, patting the corners of his mouth with a tissue.

“It shouldn’t take too long.” He moved toward the door, Shaw following close behind him.

I managed a terse nod. “Thank you.”

“I’ll walk you out.” Shaw ushered the vampire toward the door, looking grateful for a chance to escape.

Ciara shifted on her feet, arms wrapping around her waist as we waited for the effects to take hold. “He’s going to have a scar.”

“He’ll thank me when he walks again,” I muttered.

“Okay, but you’re explaining this to Cate.”

Gladly.

I closed my eyes, imagining how she would scream at me, and smiled.

Roark nudged me, and I opened my eyes as Channing’s fluttered, the monitors attached to his body going haywire. Roark reached over and ripped the cords from the wall to shut them off. The machines were no longer necessary.

Channing spluttered, his body spasming as it knit itself back together. But he didn’t wake up.

“Should we get him something for the pain?” Roark asked.

But Ciara shook her head. “The venom will take care of that.”

My penumbra and I shared a look over her head, but neither of us asked how she knew that particular fact.

Channing gasped, body arching as his eyes flew open. Ciara grabbed my arm, but I wrenched free, lunging for him.

“Where is she?” I demanded, panic rising in my chest. “Who has Cate?”

“Whoa, Lach, give him a minute,” Shaw called, ducking back into the room.

Roark moved behind me, grasping my shoulders, but I shook free of him.

“Tell me! She’s gone because of you. Your sister is in danger, and so help me gods, if anything happens to her, I will end you.” I leaned closer to Cate’s brother, letting the truth of my threat show. “Who shot you?”

Channing swallowed hard, his tongue gliding over dry lips. His confused eyes darted around the room like he was searching for someone.

“Channing, please,” I said in a harsh whisper. “She isn’t safe. I need to find her.”

His gaze settled on me, his mouth moving.

“He needs water,” Ciara suggested, heading toward the door.

But Channing’s hand shot toward my wrist. “Ob…” He worked his mouth, trying to get the word out. “Ob…er…”

“Oberon,” I finished for him. My knees gave out as realization hit me. Bain had been more than an easy scapegoat. But he had only been a distraction, a sleight of hand to keep me from seeing my true enemy.

I’d fallen for the trick and made a terrible mistake.

Roark seized me around the waist. Not to keep me from crumbling—to keep me from making another one.

“Let me go,” I growled, struggling against him. The pain I’d felt before drove itself deeper until my blood burned with the need to go after her. Oberon would pay for what he had done. Then his sister would pay. And if anything had happened to Cate, there would be nothing left of the Hallow Court when I was finished.

But Roark tightened his grip. “That is what Oberon wants. Think about it.” When I continued to thrash, he added, “If he wanted her dead, he would have killed her instead of attacking Channing. She’s alive. For now . But if you go after her without a plan, he will kill you and she will be in real danger.”

Each word doused the anger blazing inside me until finally the flames of my rage dwindled into smoldering resolve. Roark was right. Oberon had started this game, expecting me to act without thinking.

I stopped fighting Roark and held up my hands. “I surrender.”

But he didn’t release me. Fair enough.

Ciara moved into my line of sight. “Let’s get one thing straight. If he lets you go and you nip to the Hallow Court, we are all coming with you.”

I sucked at the air, still fighting the urge to defy them. My heart pounded against my rib cage so hard that I half expected it to tear free to seek her.

And that would drag the Nether Court into war. I’d given up my throne and my signet to my sister before my attack on Bain. That placed his license for retribution into a gray area. But if we all wound up in Oberon’s court, it would be akin to declaring war.

I suspected that was his intention.

You didn’t steal a fellow heir’s lover if you wanted things to stay peaceful.

“We can reach out,” Ciara suggested.

“Reach out? This isn’t the UN. We’re not going to engage in negotiations,” I snarled.

“We don’t know why Oberon took her—”

But it was Roark who cut her off. “Yes, we do,” he said quietly. “He shot Channing. His intentions are clear. If he’s the one who sent MacAlister after Cate, it was a play to start a turf war with Lach.” He turned to me. “And that means you cannot take his bait.”

I knew he was right. Roark usually was, whether I liked it or not. “She’s not bait.”

“I know that.” He gripped my shoulders. “And the last thing she would want is to see the entirety of our court and her home destroyed. We have to think about this. There’s no other option.”

“There’s one.” It involved removing Oberon from this plane of existence. Dead equals problem solved.

Even without the signet ring allowing him inside my thoughts, Roark shook his head. “That’s not a solution.”

“I’m already marked.” What was a little more blood on my hands if I lived long enough to see Cate safe?

“Send me after him,” Channing volunteered. The color was returning to his cheeks. With the vampire blood in his system, he was probably already able to walk, but Shaw clamped a hand on his shoulder to quiet him.

“We need a plan,” Ciara said firmly, ignoring Cate’s brother. “Preferably one that doesn’t involve a body count.”

I shook my head. There was no way this ended without bloodshed.

“He’ll have her in the Otherworld.” Roark cast a grim look in my direction. “You can’t enter his court without an invitation, and even if you could…”

The Wild Hunt would follow me to Dublin. If Oberon and his men didn’t kill me on sight, they would.

“I could go.”

I whipped toward Shaw, unable to hide my surprise at his offer. “You?” I laughed, the sound hollow to my own ears. “Oberon would destroy you.”

“But Titania wouldn’t,” he said tightly. “Let me try.”

“Absolutely fucking not.” I couldn’t allow my family to be dragged into this any more than they already were. Whatever Oberon was plotting would end with my death. I could live with that. “You’ll get yourself killed. If anyone is going after her, it should be me.”

“You have no idea what you’re up against.” His voice pitched higher as he took a dangerous step in my direction. “Just let—”

“Shut up!” Ciara yelled, and we both froze. “I need to hear this,” she hissed, pressing her phone to her ear.

Shaw grumbled something under his breath as he slumped against the wall. His frustrated look matched Channing’s. How had I been stuck dealing with two irresponsible kid brothers?

“Well?” I prompted Ciara. A moment later, an expression of shock slackened her face, but she quickly looked something up on the screen. Roark took a step closer, his own eyes going wide as he picked up on her thoughts.

“What is it?” I demanded, panic unraveling my already fraying nerves.

“It was a message from Cate,” she said slowly.

The world stopped spinning.

“She’s in Dublin.”

I couldn’t breathe.

“At a place called O’Malley’s near Trinity College,” she finished with a stunned blink, holding up her phone to show me a picture of an Irish pub.

It took every ounce of self-control I possessed to stay rooted to that spot.

“Go get her,” Channing called weakly.

My fingers fumbled as I barely stopped myself from snapping them.

“What if this is part of Oberon’s plan? It could be a trap,” Roark warned me.

It probably was, but I met his eyes. His nostrils flared slightly as he took another step toward Ciara. I nodded once, understanding passing between us.

“What else did she say?” I forced the question out, my entire being aching to rush to her.

“That’s all.” Ciara swallowed, glancing toward Roark. “What if this is our only chance? I should go.”

Roark’s eyes flashed, a rumble tearing from his chest in a single word: “No.”

“Why not?” She planted a hand on her hip as they stared each other down.

“Because none of you can risk getting dragged into this,” I said, stepping in before they both imploded. Even if she was in Dublin, it was still Hallow Court territory. “Oberon will have told his men to look out for you. If any of you is caught entering his city, you’ll be punished.”

Or worse.

“We can’t just sit here and do nothing,” Shaw said, straightening up and moving toward us. “It’s Cate.”

For once, I agreed with my brother.

Ciara rubbed the bridge of her nose. “We need more information so we can know if it’s safe to go after her.”

“That will take too long.” Each second we did nothing, Cate was in danger. “We know where she is now.” And each minute that we wasted, we risked losing track of her.

“You just said that none of us could risk it,” Ciara reminded me.

“None of you can,” I murmured, and Roark took a concerned step closer. I waved him off. “I’m not going to do anything stupid.”

“If Oberon doesn’t find you, the Hunt will.” Ciara shook her head. “Maybe we can send—”

“No one is going after her but me,” I said softly. My family was the only thing stopping me from nipping now. I couldn’t risk them following me. “It’s the only thing that makes sense.”

“Your magic is being tracked,” she reminded me.

I looked between my sister and my best friend. “You need to stay here and get the bona fides spell stabilized. You’re the only one who can, and until you do, New Orleans is under threat from both Oberon and the Hunt.” I turned to Roark. “And I need you with her.”

He inclined his head, understanding what I wasn’t saying. Ciara had things under control for now, but there were plenty of creatures in the city who might see an untested princess as an opportunity.

“We can’t pretend that I’m not a dead man,” I continued, ignoring how the words made her lower lip tremble. “If it’s a trap, they’ll only have me. I’ve got nothing to lose.”

And everything to gain.

“And when you nip, you’ll have seconds before the Hunt finds you,” Shaw said.

More like minutes, if New York had taught me anything. But thanks to my family, I already knew a way around that. “Only if I use my magic.”

For a second, she just stared at me, her jaw slightly unhinged. “You can’t be serious.”

“If one of you nips me there, they won’t be able to trace me. Even Oberon won’t know I’m there,” I said as Ciara began to pace the room. “The Hunt will never expect me to go to Dublin, to enter another court. We’ll be on our way back before they can track me.”

“You won’t be able to use your magic while you’re there,” Roark said quietly.

The thought had occurred to me. “I know.”

Ciara paused to stare at me. “And meanwhile, you’ll be in a foreign court without access to your magic, without a glamour. You’ll be a sitting duck.”

“I won’t be going alone.” I patted the holster I wore under my jacket.

“Oberon will love that,” Ciara muttered.

Roark finally offered his opinion. “This is reckless.”

It was. I couldn’t deny that.

“But it might work,” he added.

Ciara huffed at his betrayal before she threw her hands in the air and resumed her pacing. “So you want us to nip you to Dublin and hope you both make it out alive?”

“No, I want you to get that spell fully operational.” I grabbed her shoulders and turned her to face me. If this was a trap, Oberon would use it as an excuse to attack the Nether Court—and New Orleans. “I want you to protect our family and our court. Can you do that?”

She held my gaze for a beat before nodding.

“Bring her back,” Channing called to me.

I turned to face him. “I’d start working on my apology if I were you.”

The recently returned color drained from his face, but he managed to bob his head. “Just get her home.”

But I gripped Roark’s shoulder and dragged him to the corner. “If we don’t come back,” I said in a low voice, “keep Ciara safe. Whatever Oberon’s up to, he’ll target her if she’s standing between him and what he wants.”

“You’re coming back.” His tone brooked no argument.

But even if he didn’t want to, he needed to hear this. “No matter what happens, get the bona fides up. This isn’t just about the Hunt. We don’t know what Oberon is planning. Keeping control of the city is priority number one.”

“I understand.” He pinned me with a stare. “Don’t pick a fight. You can’t win. If it’s a trap, come back. We’ll find another way to reach Cate.”

It was his duty to say it. I understood, but we both knew there were only two ways I was returning to New Orleans: with Cate by my side or in a body bag.

“Let’s do this,” I said, shifting to nod my farewell. Shaw offered a quick bob of the head as he moved to stand by the hospital bed, where Channing looked like he might spring up and try to follow me. I couldn’t blame him for wanting to go after his sister. At least Shaw could keep him from doing anything stupid.

“Wait!” Ciara leaped in front of me. Her nose wrinkled in concentration, and I felt the faint tingle of magic as a glamour settled over my features. “You can’t go in there with your ears out. The magic will only last a few minutes at that distance, though,” she warned me.

A few minutes was all I had, but with any luck—something that was admittedly in short supply—it was all that I would need.

“Don’t get killed,” Ciara blurted out as Roark lifted his hand.

“I’ll do my best.” I flashed her a smile as my penumbra snapped his fingers.

The world slipped out from under me in a riot of light and colors, weaving and winding until my feet found purchase on a cobblestone street—right in the middle of a group of tipsy university students. They scattered like birds, shouting in disbelief to one another, but I ignored them. They were too drunk to be believed, and the clock was ticking. I needed to find Cate before my time ran out and unwanted attention proved deadly.

“Where did you come from, mate?” one of them yelled.

I strode past him, moving as quickly as I could without drawing attention to myself. They shouted after me, earning the attention of more people on the street. A few glanced in my direction as I scanned the block, but they quickly lost interest. There was nothing to see. For now.

My chest tightened when I spotted a swinging sign emblazoned with the name O’Malley’s a few doors down. I turned the collar of my jacket against Dublin’s cold, blocking the mark of the Hunt that not even Ciara’s glamour could hide. Each step seemed to take an eternity, and I half wondered if it was another dream, if the cobblestones would turn to quicksand before I reached the pub.

It had to be nearing final call at O’Malley’s as I stepped inside, even if the pub was still crowded. I scanned the room, feeling for that persistent tug that had wormed inside me since I was separated from Cate. I didn’t see her, but I felt her. She was nearby, within reach. I just had to find her. Her presence beckoned me, its grip on my heart unshakable. She burned in my blood, sharpening each of my senses as I cut my way through the crowd with a certainty that left no room for doubt.

Cate was a survivor, which meant she would be smart enough to hide. Because of the mark, she wouldn’t expect me to be the one to come for her. That’s why she had called Ciara. But as I wove my way through the boisterous patrons, my excitement turned to agitation, then fear, when I spotted two muscular men in well-tailored suits entering through the front door. They marched up to the bartender, leaning to ask her questions. Oberon’s men carried themselves like mine did—all business. The woman behind the bar crossed her arms, regarding them for a moment before she shook her head. Something told me that I owed her one.

One of the guards turned in my direction, and I ducked behind an ancient wooden post, out of sight. Warning prickled up my spine. It wasn’t a good sign that they were here. Maybe Roark was right. Maybe Oberon had laid a trap for me.

But she was here, and even if Oberon had planted her as bait, I couldn’t just walk away.

Closing my eyes, I placed a hand over my chest, over the other permanent mark burned into my skin. The one that no longer moved like the others, because it had found where it belonged and where it would stay until my dying breath. Her name had written itself on my soul. I reached for that connection now, called out to the bond that linked us with the last of my waning magic. The connection stretched taut, and when I opened my eyes, the crowd shifted as a group called out farewells and headed for the door—and tucked into the corner behind them was…her.

She was more beautiful than I remembered, even though her face was seared into my mind like the bond inked on my flesh.

Cate stood, her eyes darting through the room and widening as they caught sight of the guards I’d already seen. She crouched slightly, sliding against the wall and disappearing into a tight corridor marked with a toilet sign. Alone. She was hiding. Not bait at all.

And she was in danger. I couldn’t risk nipping us out—not with Oberon’s guards close enough to sense my magic. It was a long shot that they would try to follow, but it wasn’t a gamble I was willing to take.

I slithered through the crowd, working my way swiftly but carefully so as not to draw the guards’ attention. The place was closing up. If I could reach her, we could slip out with the crowd. I kept my head down as I brushed past a couple arguing in the corridor, my heart hammering so loudly they could probably hear it over their disagreement. And past them…

I had never moved so quickly in my life.

Cate twisted the knob to the restroom, shaking it when it didn’t open. Her fist flew toward it, and adrenaline jolted through me. If she caught the attention of the guards… I shot forward and seized her hand in midair, catching her off guard. She staggered only a step and then lunged. Her other palm collided with my chest, shoving me against the wall as she tried to flee.

But she froze, her eyes widening. I grabbed her other hand. Relief washed through my skin at her touch. But she only stared, nearly toppling over. My arm hooked her waist and dragged her to me.

“Come here often?” My lips brushed the shell of her ear, and she jolted out of her daze as the guards appeared at the mouth of the hallway.

“What are—”

I smashed my lips to hers, spinning her to press her back to the wall. The kiss was desperate and stupid, and we were probably about to get killed, but it was the only way I wanted to die: with her taste on my lips.