Page 41 of Through the Veil (Endangered Fae #2)

Chapter twenty-one

A Place to Stand

F inn stayed in the Dreaming for three days.

Diego suspected it was due to more than physical ailments.

He tried several times to find Finn in his Dreaming, to speak to him, but Finn refused to answer.

His pain and guilt seeped through clearly enough, but any more than that, Diego couldn’t get from him.

On the third night, Finn suddenly appeared in the sidhe bower Diego had been using, crawled in beside him, and curled up with his head on Diego’s chest.

“Finn?” Diego stroked the thick silk of his hair.

The arms around Diego tightened and Finn’s body heaved with silent sobs. Feeling helpless, Diego held him close and rocked him until he settled into an uneasy sleep.

The damage to his body had healed, but the wounds to his soul seemed unable to close.

Finn spent his days at Cian’s Ford, lying in ankle-deep water and staring at the sky.

In the evening, he allowed Diego to coax him into eating a bit, then he would curl up with his head in Diego’s lap, silent and still.

The world, unfortunately, could not stop for Finn, and Diego still had work to do.

The fae needed a safer place to cross over into the mortal world, a secure place, a more permanent solution.

Diego discussed it with Balor and Danu, their Champions, Heralds and Seers, and decided a good temporary fix would be Miriam’s house in New Brunswick.

From there, he could contact Miriam and hash out the best plan of action.

Finn refused to help build another doorway.

Not that he actively refused, he simply didn’t react when asked.

A water sprite had to be recruited to take his place, and Diego had to fight her wild water magic every inch of the way when he built the New Brunswick door.

This one he hid inside the house, in the back study that had once been Finn’s art studio.

They would be more cautious, and the Canadian government tended to be more tolerant of oddities, so he felt they had a reasonable amount of time.

The house, large enough for a family of ten, stood unchanged, right down to the key inside the little decorative turtle by the garage.

Zack, who had been fussed over endlessly by both sidhe and Fomor alike, was installed in the largest guest room, where Diego hoped he would have some peace.

He put Finn to bed in their old bedroom, hoping that familiar surroundings and happier memories would soothe him.

Unfortunately, he was sadly mistaken. Finn grew worse.

He even refused to go to the river, spending his time on the porch swing, rocking.

A skeptical Miriam arrived the next day, and Diego felt a surge of hope when her tank-solid frame trundled up the front steps, as if the cavalry had finally arrived.

“Okay, kiddo, what’s the hush-hush emergency, and why the hell is our Finn sitting in the cold in nothing but his damn jeans, looking like the poster child for catatonia?” she demanded before he even got out a hello.

“It’s a long story.” Diego ran his hands back through his hair. “And you’ll think I’ve lost it at first. But Finn’s condition’s part of the story, and I have some people I want you to meet who’ll bear me out.”

“Well, that just puts me right at ease. Fuck, Sandoval, you disappear for days and weeks at a time, you miss meetings, you miss deadlines, and now you want me to give you the benefit of the doubt? Are you into something illegal here?”

“No, not illegal,” he reassured her. “Maybe a little dicey immigration-wise, but mostly it’s a touchy…diplomatic situation.”

“Sounds like we better go in and sit down.” She stomped over and took Finn by the hand. “Damn it, sweetie, stop rocking. Come in out of the cold.”

Finn came meekly enough and let her shove him into a chair in the kitchen.

“Want coffee?” Diego asked as he poured a mug.

“I think I’d better have a beer instead,” Miriam muttered.

Diego knew better than to think she was kidding. He opened a bottle, plunked it down in front of her and pulled Finn into his lap when he sat down.

“I guess the best place to start is to tell you that Finn’s…well, I’ve been lying to you about Finn all this time.”

“He’s not your lover?” Miriam’s dark brows drew together.

“He is, but he’s not an Irish immigrant. That is, not in the normal sense.”

“So what is it, kiddo? Passport expired? No working permit? Stop beating around the bush. We can fix this stuff.”

“It’s more complicated than that. That first book we got published, the pooka one, the one where I used Finn as the ‘model’ for the pooka?”

Miriam made an impatient gesture.

“It was all the truth disguised as fiction. Finn is the pooka. That is his life in that book.”

“Look, sweetie, if this is some kind of pitch for some weird publicity stunt, you need to tell me straight up.” Miriam took a long pull from her beer. “This isn’t like you. None of the last couple of months has been like you.”

“Okay, you’re really not hearing me yet.

I understand. Finn had to work hard to get me to believe, too.

Here’s the plain, simple truth—magic is real.

Fairies are real, and I’m not talking about the gay pride kind.

Nonhuman beings share this planet with us arrogant humans who were always so sure we were alone, it’s all real.

I’d ask Finn to show you, but he’s not feeling himself today. ”

Diego twisted his head to shout toward the back of the house. “Angus? Are you back there?”

Of course he was. Diego had prepared the fae for the necessity of showing Miriam. Angus appeared in the doorway, wearing only his kilt, un-glamoured and undisguised. He hesitated at the kitchen tiles, still unable to walk confidently on a floor containing black lines.

“Well, he’s a hottie, I’ll give you that.” Miriam’s eyes swept up and down Angus’ tall, lean-muscled frame. “Interesting eye color. Theatrical contacts?”

“No, those are his. He isn’t human. Would you mind, Angus, showing Miriam your other form?”

“If it will help.” Angus raised his arms and closed his eyes. The golden glow of his magic danced over his skin. The kilt dropped from him as his limbs melted and transformed until the golden eagle stood in the kitchen.

“Holy shit,” Miriam murmured. “That’s some wicked special effects.”

The eagle screamed, hopped to Miriam and pecked at her foot.

“Ow! Damn it!”

“I am not some illusion created by a machine,” the eagle said indignantly. “I am quite real.”

One by one, Diego called his friends out until Miriam had seen them all—Sionnach with his bushy tail back in its full-furred glory, Lugh with his hoofs and his bull form, Nathair with his scales, Scath and Croi, who could never be mistaken for human, and finally Faolchú, who found the whole thing rather amusing and let Miriam stroke his ears and muzzle to assure herself that he was real.

“Holy. Fucking. Hells,” she finally spat out, no longer able to deny the evidence of her own senses.

“So you believe?”

“Either that or I’ve gone completely bugfuck nuts.”

Diego managed a dry chuckle. “And to top it all off, there’s an injured Marine upstairs who was a lot less difficult to convince than you.”

“So I’m a hard sell.” Miriam shrugged and polished off her beer. “I need another one of those. Like you wouldn’t believe. And then you better spill. A story comes with all this, and I think it’s time you told me, Sandoval.”

With the fae perched on various pieces of furniture and counters, Diego told her everything, from his first encounter with Finn to the escape from the IER.

Miriam listened with only an occasional expletive or sharp question interrupting the flow.

By the time Diego finished, she held the neck of her third empty beer, showing no sign that the alcohol affected her in any way, with a thunderous frown aimed at the table.

“And here I thought you were settling down,” she finally said with a snort.

“Shit.” Miriam heaved her bulk out of the kitchen chair and swung her gaze around the room.

“Okay, boys and girls, stop staring at me. Let me go unpack and think about all this. I won’t make any promises, but, kids, you’ve come to the right woman. ”

Of that, Diego had no doubt. With everything done that he could at the moment, Diego put Finn to bed. He hadn’t said a single word during Diego’s telling, not one interjection, not one correction, and given how much Finn loved to tell stories, this was the most worrisome of all.

Finn offered no resistance while Diego peeled him out of his jeans and settled him under the covers, but he offered nothing else either, no caresses, no heated glances, no teasing words. Diego stripped down to his boxer briefs and crawled in beside him, hoping, somehow, to reach him.

“ Mi amor , please talk to me,” Diego urged as he let his fingers travel over Finn’s chest. “Tell me what hurts so badly that you’ve shut your mind away.”

“Useless,” Finn whispered, trembling.

Diego let out a long breath. “ Corazón , I know you’ve been hurt. They betrayed the trust you wanted so badly to give humans and brutalized you. I hate them for it. But what we do here is not useless. To believe that is to damn every magical creature with a single word.”

“No,” Finn choked out. “ I’m useless.”

“What? Mi vida , no. Don’t say such things.”

“Couldn’t keep you safe. Couldn’t save you. Again. Someone else had to. Real heroes. Lugh. Zack. Faolchú.”