Page 24 of Outside the Veil (Endangered Fae #1)

Chapter fifteen

Isis by Necessity

T he first flaming glints of sun pierced the filigree of branches. Silence had wrapped around the house since two in the morning, the battle evidently over, but no sign of Finn.

Diego stared out of the front window, shadows tugging and toying with his aching eyes. Crawling dread joined the leaden, nauseating sensation of sleep deprivation. His ability to reason might as well have leaked out his ears in the night.

Damn the stupid promise. I can’t wait anymore.

The sun was nowhere near clearing the trees but enough light filtered through to see, he hoped enough to discourage nocturnal creatures.

He eased out into the mist-shrouded morning, searching for any sign of a hulking shape lurking by the house or in the grass.

Branches of every size littered the front lawn, blown down in the fierce winds or broken off by hurtling bodies.

An ancient pine lay across the driveway, branches yearning skyward as if it struggled to rise.

“Explains one of the crashes, anyway,” Diego murmured to the large cricket on the front step. “I don’t suppose you’re Finn?”

The cricket leaped away to hide in the grass.

“That would’ve been too easy.”

When no shambling, reeking creature appeared and no cadaverous hand reached up over the porch planks, he ventured forward.

Visions of every horror movie he had ever watched assailed him.

This was the part where everyone in the audience would be yelling, “Don’t go out there, you idiot! ” Great. Reduced to a B-movie extra.

“Finn?” he called in a soft, hoarse voice.

When nothing stirred, he tried a little louder.

No answer. He shivered in the unnatural quiet.

While he would never have claimed to be a tracker, there appeared to be a clear trail of crushed plants and broken limbs to show the path of the battle.

He started toward the woods, trying to watch in every direction at once.

The whisper-splash of the little stream by the side of the house had just edged into his hearing when he tripped on something in the grass. Instinctively, he turned, felt around and picked it up.

“God! Oh, shit!”

The dismembered hand fell from his numb fingers as he staggered back a step. Finn’s hand confronted him like an accusation in the grass, the long fingers that had caressed him the night before contorted and blood spattered.

“No, oh, no… Finn!” Diego searched frantically through the high grass near the stream. Blood dotted the vegetation, darker than human. He said he could put himself back together, said it would take a lot more than—

His boot hit the body before he spotted it.

He flung himself to his knees, hope draining from him when he gathered what was left of Finn up in his arms. His right leg lay twisted, bone protruding from the thigh, his right arm ended in a mangled stump, his left eye socket stared, black and empty, and a chunk of flesh had been ripped from his side.

A distant part of Diego told him he should be horrified and nauseated but his grief drowned out everything else.

“ Carino…querido …” he whispered. “Why did I let you go? Dios …oh…fuck… Why didn’t I tell you I loved you when I could?” He held Finn’s maimed body close and rocked him. The tight bands around his heart snapped and a sob escaped, followed by a torrent of tears.

Ants had crawled onto Finn’s hip. He brushed them away. A fly buzzed nearby and he shooed that off as well. A sparrow-sized black bird, probably a scavenger, sat in the grass nearby.

“Go away!” Diego shouted at it through heaving breaths. “Leave him alone!”

The little bird fluffed its feathers and opened its beak. “Honestly, my love, you do confound me, weeping over me with one breath and ordering me off with the next.”

Diego blinked back his tears. “Finn?”

The bird gave a tired cheep. “No substitutions and all of that. Yes, it’s me. I have been forced into a smaller vessel for the moment. I believe you can see the wisdom in that.”

“You bastard.” Diego wiped his sleeve over his eyes. “You let me sit here and bawl over you. I thought you were dead, damn it.”

“I most humbly beg pardon. I had some difficulty gathering myself together this much to speak to you.” The absurdity of Finn’s deep voice issuing from such a tiny bird should have been hilarious, but the gray weariness of his tone ruined any possibility of humor.

Diego leaned over to pick Bird-Finn up in his palm, where he huddled, shivering. “ Caro , I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snarled.”

“Not to worry, my hero. I’m so pleased you’re here that you could heap curses on me if you liked.”

“Are you— Never mind. Of course you’re not all right. Is this…” Diego trailed off, struggling for words. “Fixable?”

“One hopes.” The tiny bird cheeped again, in obvious pain. “Given a number of weeks I could manage on my own, perhaps. I would rather not take the time, though, so your help would be much appreciated.”

“What can I do?”

Finn rubbed his feathered head against Diego’s thumb. “I need you to play the part of a particular goddess for me. Ah, now, you must know the story, m’boy. The wife of that southern god, the one whose brother hacked him to pieces and scattered him across the land.”

“Osiris?”

“The very one. Yes. So you must play lovely, grieving Isis for me and gather up the scattered bits.”

“Oh.” Diego took a deep breath, a bit of nausea creeping in. “You can’t just spell yourself back together?”

“Now if I could have done it, do you think I would have let you find me in such a state? Sweet gods of water, Diego, think a moment.”

“Sorry. And what do I do when I, um, have you in one place?”

“If you would place all the pieces in the streamlet over there, I will manage the rest. I don’t require much water if it’s clean.”

Diego tucked the tiny body into the front of his jacket. “You know, if I had to go in legendary drag, I would’ve preferred someone else.” He rose to retrieve the severed hand. “Penelope, maybe. Her man comes home safe and sound.”

“My apologies for the necessity, my love,” Finn murmured.

“Joke. That was a joke.”

“Ah.”

Diego picked up the major part of Finn’s mass, husk light as if the flesh were no more than dandelion fluff without Finn inside. His stomach lurched to see the body he had so recently made love to flop gracelessly into the water.

“Steady, my hero. I am here,” Finn reassured him, the deep voice vibrating against his chest. “The rest is merely the clay I work with.”

“I’m okay. Just hard to look at.” Diego moved away into the grass again so Finn could direct him to the next piece. “You want to tell me what happened?”

“Aside from me being ripped asunder?” Finn shifted about, getting comfortable. “The eye is there by your left foot. Ah, I am a great fool. The thing was much stronger than I could have imagined.”

“You seemed to be holding your own when I saw you on the porch as a…what? A giant bat?”

“Dragon.”

“Oh.”

“There’s a toe over there in front of you.

Yes, at that point it still was more concerned with drawing you out of the house.

But after you shut the door, it summoned the wind and cold with a vengeance.

As if I battled an ice storm. It seemed everywhere and nowhere at times, insubstantial, yet solid enough to achieve what you see here. On your left, my love, a piece of ear.”

With Finn’s voice a constant presence, Diego was able to accomplish his grisly task, and soon had all the bits in a little pile in the stream. “Now what?”

“Now you place me in the water as well,” Finn answered. “Gently…oh, dear gods, gently, if you please.”

Diego withdrew his fingers to leave the tiny ball of feathers floating atop the water. Bird-Finn closed his eyes and vanished. Diego cried out in horror when the rest of the body parts melted into the stream as well. “Finn, no! Don’t go!”

“Wsht, now. So little faith in me.” Finn’s voice floated up, muffled and distant from the streambed. “It will take some hours to heal far enough to reform, love. Go back to the house. Rest. I would wager you had no sleep last night.”

“I don’t want to leave you.” Diego’s chest hurt again, his eyes swimming. “I thought I’d lost you.”

Finn was silent a moment, then he asked, “Why is it humans so often wait until they believe it too late before they declare their love?”

Diego let out a strangled sob. “I don’t know, I don’t know. It’s incredibly stupid. And I do love you.”

“And I you, my hero. I am pleased that you cried over me.”

“God, you’re such a walking ego.” Diego sniffed and wiped at his eyes.

A warm chuckle floated from the stream. “I meant it was good that you were finally able to cry again. You are less clouded now. Go back to the house, Diego. I will join you again when I am able to—what is the expression I have heard? Drag my sorry ass up there?”

Diego managed a cracked laugh. “All right. Tonight?”

“Most likely tomorrow, my love. This will take some time.”