Page 12

CHAPTER 11

W hatever was necessary to free Narissa, Fintan would do. That’s why, when Odessa interrupted his conversation with his cousin and telepathed a message, proclaiming a temporary truce, he agreed to enter her home.

“Fintan, no! She can’t be trusted,” Narissa warned, mouth tight with disapproval and pain.

His stomach clenched when he saw how exhausted and ragged she looked. Her eyes were dulled from the torture, and her luxurious blonde hair was lank, dampened by sweat. The clothes she wore were sweat-soaked and clinging, too. But mainly, she was pale from the abuse, and Fintan would move heaven and earth to get her out. It took a lot to bring down a Sullivan Siren, and utilizing the electrical ley lines feeding their estates was the perfect way. They were tied to the magic running beneath their homes.

Inside, his creature shifted, and Fintan felt its rage. His nature was to protect, not destroy, and if that enraged beast got loose, he’d decimate this entire place.

Odessa had a lot to answer for. But he’d give her the bloody necklace if it meant keeping her from killing Narissa, as she’d threatened to do.

“Sure, and all Sullivans are inclined to backstab when the mood strikes us.” He winked.

Her expression fell, and tears gathered in her hurt-filled, blue-green eyes.

Uncertain what he’d said wrong, he frowned his question, but she shook her head and glanced away. She was smart not to reveal her weakness for their aunt to exploit, but he would’ve spared her feelings if he could.

“I’m offering the trade of your cousin for the Bloodstone’s necklace in good faith, Fintan,” Odessa said, eyes calculating, yet wary.

She feared him, and the why of it would be a grand question for Uncle Peter when the man contacted him again. But maybe he wasn’t as good at hiding his anger as he imagined.

“What have you done to her?” he asked Odessa, though he already knew the answer. Still, he needed to stall until Draven’s return. Likely, he’d bring reinforcements.

“I’ve been the perfect hostess.” Odessa sniffed and raised her chin as if offended. “She can’t be civil, and a lesson was needed.”

Fintan twisted and gripped her throat in a move so fast that his aunt’s cane crashed to the floor, and Narissa cried out.

His creature growled, clawing to find a way out. And because of the struggle, he squeezed harder than intended. “Hurt her again, in any fuckin’ way, and I’ll rip your black heart out through your feckin’ throat,” he snarled.

With her rheumy eyes bulging, Odessa gurgled her agreement.

He waited for her Succubus to appear, but it remained dormant, likely not viewing his action as an actual threat. Either the demon inside her had weakened considerably, or she possessed the ability to defeat him with little effort. Fintan preferred to believe it was the former.

Cautious and watchful, he released her, held up his hands, and stepped back. Although he half expected a retaliation, none came. Did that mean she’d used up her store of magic keeping Narissa caged? It bore further consideration.

“I don’t have the necklace here,” he said. “But I’ll return with it after I see Narissa’s taken care of.”

“No. You’ll turn it over before I release her.”

He locked gazes with Narissa briefly, then he faced his aunt. “I’ll not leave her here with you in this condition, all the same.”

“You’re in no place to bargain, boy. My home. My rules.”

An idea tickled the back of his brain. If he could put himself in jeopardy, would the ancestors abandon her to save him?

He was about to find out.

“Aye, but you need the Sullivan ancestors to maintain your cage. What if I took them from you?”

Odessa’s eyes narrowed. “If you could, you’d have done it by now.”

“Sure, and I didn’t think of it before. I’m slower than most. Just ask anyone.”

Narissa released a weak chuckle.

“Then do it,” Odessa challenged. “But then you’ll be going back on our deal, and if you do, all bets are off, boy.”

She had him by his bollocks, and they both knew it.

“If ya let her go now, you’ve my word I’ll bring ya that cursed necklace,” he growled. “On me life.”

Odessa nodded, smiling with satisfaction. “That’s good enough for me and the ancestors since you swore to it.”

The cage containing Narissa disintegrated in a shower of sparks, and she curled into a ball to avoid getting burned. Fintan swore and dove forward to protect her as best he could. Behind him, Odessa’s evil chuckle scraped his last nerve raw, triggering his Siren.

Narissa must’ve sensed the change and grabbed his shirtfront. “Don’t! Don’t you dare shift, Fintan Sullivan!” she ordered. “She won’t be able to resist stealing what you have.”

“She can’t,” he replied through gritted teeth. While he understood the wisdom of Narissa’s words, his Siren was awakening. Taryn had nudged it earlier, and the situation with his cousin had amplified its need to escape. “She has to take it through sex, and I find her repellant.”

“She has other ways, sugar. Remember the spell she cast on Brenna?”

He did.

Inside him, the beast roared its rage, beating the shit out of Fintan’s insides as he struggled to retain control.

Narissa stroked his throat. “Finny, listen to me now.” Her words were sing-song and hypnotic. “She has no power over our Sirens and isn’t worth the cost to transform. Let’s go home.”

His skin cooled along with his temper, and the creature grumbled as it slunk back into its cave.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

“Anytime, sugar.”

Fintan helped her to stand, and when they faced Odessa, she wore an expression of concern. Not buying a second of it, he shifted to place himself between the women and then guided Narissa toward the exit. “I’ll be back with your feckin’ jewelry, but if you come after us or anyone we care about again, I’ll fuckin’ end you, yeah?”

Although she frowned, his aunt lifted her chin, proud and defiant to the bitter end. “I’ll not come after you or her, and you’ll need to be satisfied with my word.”

“Not good enough,” Narissa said, swaying into him but pausing their escape. “Brenna, the Guardians, the Aether, and anyone else we care about are untouchable, or you’ll face the combined force of whoever is left of our family. Got it?”

“You’re no match for me, girl. None of you are in your sorry states.”

“The instant you step away from these ley lines, you’re power ends, old woman,” Fintan said. “Necklace or no, you can’t defeat us in battle, so don’t be startin’ a war.”

* * *

“They should’ve been back by now,” Taryn said as she paced behind the sofa that tried to take her out earlier. Her blood had long since been cleaned from the wood, courtesy of Damian and Jordan, but she would prefer to burn the piece for good measure. Or perhaps it was her frustration welling. She needed an outlet.

“Stay calm, sweetheart,” Creed said. Across the room, he sat at the piano, thumbing through a songbook. Periodically, he’d tickle the keys and grin before skimming more pages.

“How can you say that? Why aren’t you worried?”

When he glanced up, his smile was reassuring. “I’ve known Fin since we were teens, Taryn. He’s never gotten himself into a mess he couldn’t get out of.” Creed winked. “With one exception.”

“Which was?”

“You.”

“One, I don’t like to be considered a mess. I mean, I am, but pointing it out might get you cut. And two, you’re imagining things. Fintan and I were done over two decades ago.”

Creed scoffed. “Keep telling yourself that, sweetheart.”

She chose to ignore his teasing. Paused beside him, she listened as he played, curious about the current song he was drawing from the ivories.

“That’s beautiful!”

“Fin is an exceptional songwriter,” he replied, patting the bench. “Here. Now, sing.”

“I’m not any good,” she protested.

“Bullshit. Your voice is sweet but with an underlying rasp. If you had training, you’d be as good as Celine, Adele, or Christine Agu?—”

A commotion in the foyer sent them running.

When they skidded to a halt, they found Fintan and Draven supporting Narissa between them.

Creed stepped forward, as if instinctively, before catching himself.

“What the hell happened to you?” he demanded.

Narissa’s head came up, and the sheer exhaustion on her face spoke of her trials.

He swore.

Not waiting for answers, Taryn rushed to her and, drawing strength from her cells, transferred it through touch. A hint of color returned to Narissa’s cheeks, and she smiled her thanks.

“That stream of swear words would blister a nun’s backside, sugar,” she said to Creed as he scooped her into his arms. “But no need to fuss. I’ve been through worse and came out just peachy.”

“Shut up,” he growled, charging for the stairs.

“Do we dare leave them alone together?” Taryn asked in an aside to Fintan and Draven.

“She’ll eat him up and spit him out, cher ,” the Guardian said with a chuckle. “But he’s man enough to survive.”

“He’s awfully angry with her still.”

Fintan’s expression reflected surprise. “Sure, and how close did the two of you become while I was fightin’ for me life?”

“Which time? With the ancestors or Odessa?”

His scowl rivaled Creed’s. “Where’s the bleedin’ necklace?”

“You left it on the couch, so Brenna put it in the safe.”

“I’ll wait here while you retrieve it and then return with you, mon ami ,” Draven told Fintan.

After he left, Taryn sank to the marbled step leading upstairs. “How bad was it? Narissa looks rough.”

“From what I gather, Odessa tortured her with high-amperage volts of electricity that she drew from the ley lines protectin’ her home.”

“My god!” She pressed a hand to her stomach, hoping to calm her churning gut.

“Whatever god you follow, cher , he had nothing to do with it. It was all the work of an evil Succubus.”

“I never should’ve let her go alone.”

Draven squatted in front of her and tilted up her chin. “There’s nothin’ you or anyone else could’ve done to help her that Fintan didn’t do. You were safer here, out of the fray.”

“But—”

“No buts.” His tone was rough and no-nonsense. “The truth is, you don’t have the ability to confront an animal like Odessa Sullivan, Taryn. Don’t ever believe you can and live to tell the tale. She’s killed many who mistakenly thought they could.”

“I hate being a simple witch,” she said.

“You’re far from a simple anythin’, Taryn-Taryn.”

She jumped upon hearing Fintan behind her. “You’re like a damned wraith! Stop doing that!”

Both men chuckled, and Draven pulled her to her feet.

With an unhurried grace, Fintan descended the remaining stairs, halting before her. “Somethin’s been botherin’ me since I spoke to Odessa. She was too confident. Too knowing.”

“Knowing? About what? The necklace?” Taryn asked. “Do you think she’s stumbled upon information we don’t have?”

He nodded. “Who was the person at the Witches’ Council you spoke with about the necklace, aoibhneas mo croí ?”

“He’s a new hire named Micha Forsyth.”

“Forsyth?” He didn’t look pleased. “Ya said he was a new hire?”

“Yes. He was newly appointed by the Council to head up the archive department,” she replied, glancing between Draven and him. “Why?”

Fintan avoided her question and addressed Draven. “Do you know anythin’ about the man?” he asked sharply.

“I don’t, but I’ve been avoidin’ the witch community for decades, cher . It seems you do, though.”

Taryn touched Fintan’s arm but immediately drew away when his gaze grew intense. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothin’.” When she didn’t readily accept his answer, he said, “A feelin’ as if someone’s been walkin’ on me grave but nothing I can pinpoint or explain. The last name is one I’m familiar with.”

“Uh… I, um, I can ask Alastair or Nash. They know everyone.”

“Sure, and you’re on again about the man!” The twinkle in his eyes contradicted his WTF tone.

She grinned, happy he wasn’t truly jealous. “What can I say? The Thornes make beautiful people. As long as Ryanne doesn’t mind, I’ll look my fill.”

“Oh, I’m jealous, Taryn-Taryn. I’ll kill the man if he touches ya,” Fintan replied through their connection.

“You forgot to block the ring’s ability, cher ,” Draven said dryly. “Let’s deliver the necklace and determine our next move.”

“I didn’t forget. Let my words serve as a warnin’ to any man who tries to woo her.”

Left with her mouth hanging open, Taryn didn’t know what to say. Fintan’s possessive routine was new and confusing as hell.

Draven glanced back, shooting her a wink.

“Am I in a fever dream?” she muttered. Why did he become territorial? And the better question was why she tolerated it? The about-face was baffling—for both of them.

“I love ya, Taryn-Taryn. I always have, and I’ll not be denyin’ it any longer.”

“But the ancestors ? —”

“We’ll find a solution, yeah?”