Summon (23 page)

“When she gets back I’ll do my best to make
amends,” I murmured.

“Gets back?” Conall’s confusion bled out as quickly
as it came to life. He bristled. “What do you mean?”

Baako stared agape before muttering, “Major fail,
Cat. He wasn’t supposed to know.”

I stepped backward hoping the action would distance
me from my monumental screw up.

“Talk,” Conall barked.

Baako sighed. “Twitch left.”

The fairy Warrior blinked at us dumbly.

Dread stiffened my already tense body. “He means
Rae left.”

Harsh fear transformed the angles of Conall’s
features into something grotesque. “She and Breandan quarrelled and she wanders
to cool her temper.”

Nodding awkwardly, Baako dropped his gaze and
scratched his chest.

“
I’m a fool,” Conall grated. “That’s why Breandan
was so pained. Where has she gone?”

Baako’s eyes darted side to side, and he backed
away to join me. “Um….”

Cursing, Conall marched into Lochlann’s glade.

Baako and I silently followed. We passed a furious
Maeve on the way, and I grabbed her hand waving Baako on. I swept her into my
arms and ignored her bewilderment.

“What is wrong?” she asked.

I barely heard her through the thundering noise of
my heartbeat.

“
Gone
,”
Conall roared. “Gone
where?
She never
spoke to me? Does she hate me? Not trust me enough to confide her plans?”

I winced at the pain in his voice then smiled.

Mate.
Maeve. Mine.

My inner beast purred strongly, and the sound
rumbled from my lips. I buried my face into the crook of Maeve’s neck, and
inhaled, imprinting her exquisite scent.

Her pliable weight was glorious, her long limbs
stretched and dangling over my arms and shoulders. The bright cascade of her
hair felt silky on my chest. Her skin was petal soft. It was as if heaven
poured her over me with the intention of drowning me in loveliness.

Maeve snuggled deeper into my arms with a sigh. Her
energy wrapped around me in welcome.

What made the beast stir in anger was that the sigh
was tinged with sadness, kicking my protective instincts into a headlong gallop
towards belligerence.

Maeve.
Mate. Mine.

Conall, Breandan and Lochlann were deep in
conversation as I stormed up to them.

Spying my livid expression, Breandan lowered his
eyes.

Guilt.

I know exactly
how the conversation between Maeve and her family went down.

“Why didn’t you defend her?” I demanded.

Breandan shrugged. “I’ll tell you the same thing I
told Conall. I was licking my wounds. My pride is damaged, and the thought of
having to comfort anyone when I want nothing more than to disassociate myself
with anything to do with
her
rendered
me silent.” He rubbed his forehead, avoiding eye contact. “I’m better now.
Worried sick but have a clearer state of mind.”

The acrid smell of shame mixed with fear burned my
nose.

I understood why he perceived Rae’s leaving as a
waking nightmare he wanted to forget, at the least ignore. My heart pounded at
the thought of the gutsy female caught in Cael’s grasp. There was nothing I
could do but carry on with my own responsibilities, and hope my friend came out
whatever she wandered into alive.

“I would have gone after her,” Conall told
Breandan. “
You
should have gone after
her.”

“She did not want me to.”

“When does Rae not want you to follow?” Conall’s
hands fisted. “The girl is mad for you.”

Lochlann nodded his head morosely. “I know the
feeling.”

The out-of-character insight into his thoughts had
us all turning and staring.

A dull flush of colour bloomed across his sharp
cheekbones. He raked a hand through his blonde mane, an unruly fall of hair
that made him look more shifter than fairy coupled with his large size, and
glared, daring us to comment.

He did a double take at Maeve in my arms. “Put her
down.”

“No.” I tightened my hold on Maeve’s body.
He’ll have to pry her from my cold, dead
fingers.
“There are larger concerns. She’s safe with me. The entire Pride
will defend her if I will it.”

“The Tribe would give their lives without having to
be asked.” Lochlann’s chin lifted with jaw-dropping arrogance. “I doubt your
people are as joyful to welcome an outsider as you would have me believe.”

Conall hissed. Impatience turned the long lines of
his body rigid. “Are we going after Rae or not?”

Baako roused from his silence. “No intervening.
Twitch is handling it.”

Head snapping up, Breandan did a major double take
at Baako. He paled. “What are you doing here? Rae said….” Eyes closing, he
cursed. The atmosphere charged, and rage transformed his handsome face into one
of savage jealousy.

“Brother?” Maeve shot Lochlann a worried look.

The High Lord acted equally alarmed. He subtly
motioned a retreat.

Breandan wasn’t dangerous. He echoed the reaction I
experienced earlier as I realised Rae left with the phantom. Alone. He’d
obviously assumed Baako left with them since he was Rae’s Familiar. Seeing the
bear was a nasty blow he’d been unprepared for. “It’s alright, Breandan.”

When his eyes opened they were desolate. Wintry.
“No, it’s really not.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Cael

She’s alive
. Rae and her insufferable mate were godlings.
Divine.
The absurdity of it stole my breath.

Malice finished his retelling of the resurrection
the Loa hijacked with a toast to Rae’s health before downing the bottle of wine
and tossing it behind him. It smashed against the wall in a shower of glass
– joining the ever-growing pile. He cheered drunkenly reaching for
another.

The sacrosanct Wyld I created in my city –
my haven
– had become a Honfour, a
godling alter.

Its serenity became increasingly perverted by
Marinette’s outlandish tastes.

The stench of rotting corpses poisoned the air.
Amphibians infested the stream, and water striders disturbed the placid
surface. Made it slick. Animals soiled and rutted in the corners. Pink, fleshy
worms wriggled wherever I stepped. I was forever brushing ants from my
clothing. Swatting midges and flies that buzzed in my ears and bit my nape. The
trees were dying. Their once sweet and fragrant fruit hung fat and overripe.
Rinds splotched with disease burst to deluge stinking rot on unsuspecting
passersby. The browning leaves were covered larvae. Arachnids spun heavy webs
between the drooping branches. And the insects! Bugs
swarmed
over the trunks, all manner of beetle and termite creeping
and crawling. Unsightly furry things made ugly snuffling noises then were
promptly beaked to death by hunting birds of prey. The consequence of which
meant stinking, half masticated carcasses littered the ground. Vampires
skulking in the shadows were bad enough, but the decomposing zonbi as the Loa
called them lurked in plain sight
.
Worse, slobbering half-man half-beast perversions once known as werewolves
prowled the Wyld shedding handfuls of musty fur. The main body of the Pack
huddled at the foundation of a rock pile. Elongated muzzles cracked to show
sharp teeth. Tongues lolled, and too-human yellowed eyes were watchful.

In the midst of this sickening disorder, Marinette
stood high on a cluster of boulders surrounded by the creatures that pleased
her.

An owl with feathers the colour of midnight dug its
tawny talons into her shoulder. Its reflective eyes gleamed the brightest
amber.

Tapping into my fairy sight, I glimpsed her
nakedness and plain face beneath the glamour she’d woven. A magical costume
where her dark blonde hair was elaborately braided around her ears and crown.
Feathers, gold, and jewels were plaited into the tresses to imitate a
sacrificial headdress. Black kohl winged from her inner eyes to her temples.
Red eyes that critically examined the domain she considered conquered. Her
bottom lip was painted with a strip of black down the middle. A necklace of
teeth graced her neck and broken bones on silver thread encircled her wrists.
Her dress tumbled past her legs onto the craggy rock she used as a plinth in a
cascade of crimson. It looked like a river of blood, and I’m certain that was
her intent.

She was resplendent, a depraved virago sheathed
within an armour of stolen flesh.

Grey-winged bats zoomed overhead. Darted down to
snatch at the moths fluttering around her head. Bronze-scaled lizards climbed
the rock she stood upon in nippy, blurred movements. Long limbed frogs leapt
from dank place to damp place, and fat toads croaked from greasy pond-sized
puddles forming in the relentless drizzle.

I’d conjured a cloud inside the glass dome in an
attempt to keep the disgusting odours at bay.

Snakes slinked around Marinette’s bare toes, forked
tongues flickering to taste her skin. Arched tails rattled. A tarantula crawled
up her skirt. A smaller spider with longer legs jumped and landed on her
outstretched forearm. Another hung above her head from a gargantuan spread of
webbing that featured the mummified remains of cuter birds that used to flit
about.

A squealing black piglet trotted around the smaller
boulders. Its tusks dripped with blood, and its beady eyes glowed like hot
coals.

Cupped in Marinette’s palms were speckled eggs.

A fragile shell cracked, punctured by a lucent
beak. She watched curiously as the hatchling burst free of its confinement. It
squirmed feebly, its feathers wet and bulging eyes closed. Its feet were
curled, as it had grown tightly coiled.

Marinette’s eyes darkened. “Birth,” she breathed.
Her hand drifted closer until it hovered about her mouth. Tongue pushing
between her lips, she licked it, a slow stroke with the flat of her tongue that
lingered. “I have seen it. Smelt it. Tasted it.” Her eyes flickered with some
thought then slid to meet mine. “I feel life in my hand, and many say its
creation is the greatest pleasure.” Sinister purpose lurked in the glaringly red
orbs. “I disagree.”

Her fist snapped closed. Gooey mulch squirted
between her fingers. Lip curling in disgust, she dropped the pulverised remains
crusted with eggshell.

It was snatched mid fall by a gaping mouth. The
snake gobbled the dead bird whilst continuing its aimless slither through the
rocks.

The other egg cracked.

Marinette’s attention fixed upon it with childish
glee.

My gorge rose, and I went somewhat wild-eyed.
What is this hot, heavy feeling pressing on
my chest?

I felt little but the darker emotions and the
leaden weight made me uncomfortable. “Damn it, can’t she silence those infernal
crickets?”

Reclined on a bed of cushions, Gwendolyn pawing at
him, Malice wheezed a laugh, a scratchy sound of bleak amusement. “The crawlers
come with Mari. Her energy draws them.”

Studiously ignoring what would be another grisly
death for a hatchling –
will she
eat it alive this time?
– I asked, “Do you compel animals?”

“No. The three of us connect with particular types
of energy. We are divine and gifted with immortality, but it is veneration that
nourishes us. Fuels our power.”

“What kind of energy do you feed on?”

With a lazy, roundabout stab of the finger, he
gestured to his lap. “Can’t you tell?”

My gaze fell on the lust-stooped female groping
him, who was in actuality the vampire Queen. I sneered. “That’s all?”

“Not quite.” He flashed a grin. “I attract the
carnal needs. Sexual hunger is good, but I derive great joy from imbibing.
Gambolling.” His voice quietened. “Lovers.”

I started at the tenderness he infused the word
with. “Lovers?”

“Is there a motivation more potent than love? A
force more powerful?” He gave me an odd look. “The one who made it possible for
us to return, what do you think fuels her power, and the power of her lover?”

“The notion a mere feeling adds to your natural
strength is fallacy.”

Malice studied me with rare solemnity. “The soul
inhabiting this body before me loved the girl that used to own that body.” He
motioned to Marinette. “I’m not enslaved to her whims. I’m just as powerful,
but the boy’s affection lingers in the flesh of this vessel.” He thumped his
chest over his heart. “The organ beating inside me aches for the love he lost.
That is the power of such an emotion – power that transcends death. We
three would not be here if it were not for the love of the fairy godling for
your sister.”

“So you’re forever trapped? Bound to Marinette
because of a feeling?”

“We are nomadic. The love I hold for Marinette’s
vessel will lessen because it’s not my affection, but his. Then I will go on my
way. Damballah will leave too. Maybe before I do.”