Lost Soul (DarkWorld: SkinWalker Book 2) (6 page)

"How did you know?" When she looked up at me with questions in her eyes I continued. "About my injury…that the Wraith had injured me? Did you know?"

She nodded. "Coming home to the apartment all torn up, I knew something bad had happened. My nose gave me a pretty good idea of what had happened here, but I called Sentinel to access the mole. It didn't take long for them to report back your position. And as it turned out, a call to Iain confirmed he'd already been taken to you. So it all worked out well in the end."

I took a deep breath and felt a surge of love for my Grams. I leaned over and wound my arms around her for a cuddle. "So does this mean you're going to stop flitting in and out of here so mysteriously?"

"Yes, I think it does." She squeezed back.

"And no more secrets about Sentinel?"

"No more secrets," she whispered into my ear.

"Okay, since we're not keeping secrets, I have two things to tell you."

"Go on."

"Logan brought a Tracker in. I wanted to know exactly where Greer was before I decided who I was going to find first. But now that you're here, I have a question." When she tilted her head expectantly I continued. "Can't we split the job? You go for Mom and I'll go for Greer?"

"Unfortunately, that's not as easy as you think. The High Council forbids any kind of travel to the demon planes. And they've gone as far as to use powerful magic on the Veil between the worlds to prevent us from entering. Only a demon may enter the demon world."

"Then how did Mom get into the Wraith world?"

"Because she's a Demon Hunter, like you. She is the Hunter and she is the only person able to travel between the planes at will. And now, of course, there is you—a Hunter even more powerful than Celeste."

I folded my arms, resigned to the task. "So there isn't anyone who can help me."

"I'm sorry, honey. I would have come earlier. I know this is difficult for you, but with Celeste imprisoned, you're the only one who can get her out of there."

"That's okay. It was just a thought." I couldn't deny I was terribly disappointed.

I wanted to pout, but Grams brought me back to my senses. "So, about the Tracker. I assume she told you where Greer is?"

"Yeah. She's in the Greylands." Even saying the name gave me a chill.

Grams went deathly pale and sat up stiff and frowning. "The Greylands?" She whispered the word as if saying it out loud would make it far too real. "How is she going to get out of there?"

"I'm going to get her out," I said firmly, more to convince myself than anything else. A part of me still resisted the decision to find Greer first.

"But, how? I know you can get in because it's a dark plane. But how will she pass through the Veil if it's locked and warded against her? The protection spells won't allow her to pass."

Grams was right. This was more complicated than I thought. "I'm seeing the Death-talker tonight. I'm sure she'll be able to tell me how to do that."

"Who are you seeing?"

"Her name is Nerina." Gram's eyes lit with recognition and she smiled. "You know her?"

"Yes. Both Omega and Sentinel often use the same outside contractors. There are operatives who have remained unaffiliated to either organization, like Nerina and a few Trackers I know. There are lots of them I do believe."

That gave me an idea but I filed it away to think over another time. Maybe I could turn down Omega's offer, but make a counter. The idea of an unaffiliated operative was far more appealing to me
, especially when I much preferred being my own boss.

"Do you want to be here tonight? For the meeting with Nerina?" I offered. She was Greer's grandmother after all.

But Grams shook her head. "You don't need me. And it would probably make things a little uncomfortable—Omega and Sentinel in one room for a tracking. Just keep me updated on what she says." Grams patted my knee and shifted on the sofa. "I have some errands to run."

"Errands, Grams?" I raised an eyebrow and smiled at her.

She gave me a sheepish grin and laughed, the sound echoing around the room. The light was weaker outside—we'd spent a lot of time talking. "Okay, I have some Sentinel stuff to do. I'll be home later." She leaned toward me and hugged me tight. "Take care of yourself, Kai."

I hugged her back, then extricated myself from her arms. "It's only going to be a few hours, Grams. I'm sure I'll manage," I answered drily.

She shook her head at me as if she believed there really was no hope for me, then grabbed her bags and headed into her room. A few minutes later, she left with a wave and another warning to take care. My mind was going a mile a minute and I barely noticed her departure.

***

As soon as Grams left, I headed out, walking the few blocks to Tara's shop at a steady pace. It was nice to be outside in the late afternoon sun. I hadn't seen sunshine much in the last few weeks.

And now, although the fire treatment had rejuvenated me, I was still strangely tired. I was careful not tax myself in case I totally undid all Logan's hard work.

I pressed my hand to my injured forearm. The flesh around the wound was still sore to the touch. More painful than this morning. The day had definitely taken the oomph out of me.

Tara's shop came into view as I turned the corner. I shoved the door open, listening to the tinkling sound of the bell above the door. Tara sat at the counter, perched on a high chair, bent low over a contraption that looked like a microscope on steroids. She had a syringe in her hand, the barrel filled with deep purple liquid. Probably working on bullets like the ones she'd made for my crossbow.

"Hey you," I called out as the door shut with a
whoosh
. The place smelled warm and dusty. Sunlight streamed in the front window, reflecting off the various shelves filled with an endless number of weapons.

Tara beamed as she watched me approach the counter, but she didn't put the syringe down. "I've just got to finish this bullet, then you'll have my full attention."

I waved her away but she already had her head down and didn't see. "Don't worry about me. I can wait."

She smiled, her attention on the microscope. I strolled around the shop, examining the weapons covering every spare inch of space on the surrounding shelves. Weapons from every culture, every time period, every metal known to man. I could just imagine Tara and her mother collecting these daggers and swords and pistols and bows, storing them over the centuries. The shop
-front was more a museum than a weapons store. I couldn't understand how Tara could bear to part with any of them. The amount of history each piece held alone would surely be on an art collector level.

A rustling at the entrance to the inner apartment drew my attention and Gracie, Tara's mother, walked into the store. She made a beeline for me. "Kailin, my dear, what a horrible time you have had."

She held her palms out to me and I placed my hands within them. Her face remained serene, calm with an edge of steel to it. Tara's mother was no ordinary woman. Even now she exuded a regal air, but without the airs and graces of human royalty. Referring to her as Gracie seemed somehow disrespectful, demeaning to her standing, to whom she really was, a queen of the Ethereal Fae, a queen whose line held the unique power to mold metal, a substance known to cause great weakness to all Fae, and yet Gracie and Tara honed the element like it was any other natural substance.

"Now tell me, how are you feeling, my dear?" She drew me to the counter and waved me at the pair of stools opposite Tara.

"I'm feeling much better today in fact. Logan used his fire magic to heal me, so today's been better than most days." I perched on the stool and smiled under her scrutiny.

"Ah yes, the young fire Mage, Logan. Tara has filled me in. Now, my dear, any news on your mother or your sister?" I was startled to see how very concerned she was about my family.

"No news on Mom, but we now know where Greer is. We just have to figure out a way to get her out." I sighed. Whether the sigh was fatigue or frustration, I didn't care to know right now.

"And where exactly is she?" Gracie's eyes never left my face, and across the counter, Tara tensed as if she too were eager to hear my revelation.

I hesitated only for a moment. This was the reason I was here anyway. "Greer is still alive but she's in the Greylands."

The silence that followed was palpable. "Kailin." Gracie breathed my name, shock filtering through each syllable. "The Greylands. That is bad news indeed."

"I'll find a way to get her out," I said, my voice brooking no argument. Somehow I felt the need to reassure her that I'd complete my mission.

"But nobody is allowed to enter the Greylands. Only those who traverse the worlds: demons, the dead, and those who have the power to project their minds into the dead realm. I do know some Olde Fae who can enter the Greylands and the Demon worlds, but to have a living human trapped in the land of the dead and damned… Nothing like that has ever happened before."

The Fae queen was visibly upset at the news. Across from me, Tara's movements had stilled. I met her gaze and she too had a look of hopelessness and sorrow in her eyes. I hesitated only for the briefest moment. "Don't worry. I'm going to the Greylands to bring her back."

"But the portals are spelled. Nobody can pass through." Tara shook her head.

"I can."

Tara reached for my hand. "This is insane, Kai. Nobody can go there, nobody alive can enter."

"Nobody besides the Niamh." Beside me Gracie uttered the words in a hushed whisper.

"Mother," Tara admonished her, "you know that's just a silly old prophecy. Besides everyone knows the Hunter goes back and forth between the planes all the time."

"You know of the Hunter?" I asked, staring from mother to daughter.

"Of course. The Fae court has worked with the Hunter on numerous occasions. We owe her many debts. As she owes us a few too."

"Mother, be honest. The Fae owe the Hunter more than she will ever owe us."

Gracie laughed although her eyes didn't reflect her amusement. They seemed to be staring off into space. "You are right as always, Tara," she said absently. Then she slowly turned her gaze to me and gave me a thorough once over. Her eyes narrowed as they studied my face. "The coloring is right, skin, even the shade of hair and the physique."

"Mother, what are you babbling about?" Tara asked the question though her eyes remained on her microscope.

"I'm not babbling, dear. I think I just figured out who we have standing here in our shop today."

My chest tightened as the fae queen held my gaze. Tara snorted. "Mother, I think you may be fevered. You know exactly who Kailin is."

"Not really, Tara. Not until now."

Tara clicked her tongue and pushed away from the microscope to reach behind her for a small box. "Mother, please try and make a little sense. Kailin's going to think you are soft in the head."

"Kailin knows exactly why I'm not soft in the head, don't you, Kailin?" Gracie turned to stare at my face again. "How did I not realize it before? It was right here to see all this time."

"I'm sorry, Gracie. I didn't know myself until very recently," I answered, feeling truly apologetic for some reason. I felt uncomfortable knowing that Gracie may think I'd hoodwinked her all this time, but that made no sense because this whole Niamh story was nobody else's business but mine.

"Know what?" Tara faced me with her hands on her hips and her cheeks getting redder with each moment that passed.

"That I am the Niamh."

I could cut the silence with a knife.

"What?" The word came out a strangled shriek. "What are you talking about?"

"My grandmother told me who I really am. My mother is the Hunter. Celeste."

"You have got to be kidding me." Tara sat on her stool with a small thump, looking slightly lost. She had totally forgotten about boxing up her newly made cartridges.

"No. Not kidding. Believe me, I'm as shocked as you are." There wasn't any need to tell her that I'd known I was the Niamh for weeks, just that I hadn't had any idea how it was connected to both me and my mother until recently.

Tara sat, slack-jawed and eyes wide for a little too long. Then she blinked a few times.

"Kailin, this means that you are able to traverse the Veil and enter the Greylands. It also means if you are venturing into demon territory, you will be needing demon-grade weaponry," said Gracie. She turned to the still silent Tara
. "Darling, close your mouth and box your syringes. We have a lot of work ahead of us."

"I quite like the sound of demon-grade weaponry," I said, smiling at Gracie and Tara.

"Um. Yeah, demons don't die easily. They need special ammunition, a lot like the Wraiths. In fact—Oh." Tara paused and stared at me with an odd expression. "Is that why you've been able to track the Wraiths? You're not a Wraith Hunter. You're a Demon Hunter."

I grinned at Tara. "Yeah. I'm a Demon Hunter."

"And not just any Demon Hunter, one of the greatest Demon Hunters to ever walk the earth," Gracie said.