The Order of Brigid's Cross - The Wild Hunt (Book 1): The Wild Hunt (20 page)

As soon as Sean appeared before her, swinging by a rope with
a look of surprise on his face, Em didn’t know if she should be impressed or incredulous.
 
What
the hell was he thinking?
Shaking her head, she realized it was just like
the little boy back in Ireland who came running to help with no thought of his
own safety. He wasn’t thinking.

“Sean to the rescue,” she muttered, allowing the humor of
the situation to rest a moment in her eyes. But when she realized he was going to
fight armed with only an aluminum baseball bat, the mirth left her eyes.

“Damn!” she whispered, knowing she couldn’t open the door
for fear it would alert the faerie.

She heard the crack of the bat and jumped to action.
 
Pulling the door open, she began to run in
the direction of the fight but stopped in her tracks as she watched Sean
outmaneuver and overpower his opponent.
 
She stood, transfixed by the pure, male beauty of his movement. He was
fighting like a warrior, all his power and concentration fixed upon the faerie
who
could do nothing but retreat. Em felt a strange mix of
emotions—pride, exhilaration, fascination and desire.
 
He was crushing one of her mortal enemies,
and for the first time in her life, she felt she had a true champion and
partner.

It took her a few moments to remember that Jamal was still
tied up in the corner of the room.
 
She
dashed over to him and cut through the ropes that held him.
 
Then she untied the gag over his mouth.
 
“Are you okay?” she asked. “Did they hurt
you?”

“No, I’m good,” Jamal replied, rubbing his arms and legs to
get the circulation back. “But I was sure glad to see Sean jump down from the
balcony.”
 
He stretched to look around
her to Sean. “I didn’t know he could fight like that.”

Em shook her head. “He can’t,” she replied
automatically.
 
Then she paused and
looked over her shoulder at Sean.
 
He
couldn’t fight like that!
 
She was just
fighting with him, and although he was strong, he wasn’t very skilled. That
ancient faerie should have been a much greater opponent.
 
It was almost as if—

Em looked back at Jamal. “Stay here,” she commanded, and
then she lifted her sword and dashed across the room.
 

She couldn’t call out Sean’s name, didn’t want to distract
him and give the faerie any chance to harm him. But she could tell by the
malevolent gleam in the faerie’s eye that it was planning some kind of
trick.
 
Em had fought faeries long enough
to understand their strength came more from their ability to manipulate their
enemies minds than just from sheer fighting prowess.
 

She was only a few feet away when she heard the faerie
threaten her.
 
She saw the muscles in
Sean’s hand tense and watched his hand pull back, his sword ready to take the faerie’s
life, and she suddenly understood the plan.
 
Jumping forward, she pushed Sean back with one hand and thrust her sword
with the other, impaling the faerie through its heart.
 
Immediately, the faerie burst into a thousand,
tiny pieces of ash.

Furious, Sean stormed at her, his sword raised. “What the
hell did you do?” he asked. “That was my kill.”

“Your kill, is it?” she countered, moving up and facing him.
“And what happened to following the rules? Or does that only apply when I’m the
angry one with the sword?”

“No,” Sean said, shaking his head and wondering why he felt
so confused. “He was…I was…he deserved…”
 
He looked up at Em, his face a study in confusion. “What the hell just
happened?”

“The sword you now carry is Chrysaor,” she explained. “It
was the sword of the Knight of Justice.”

Sean hefted the sword in his hand and then looked up at Em.
“Yeah, you told me,” he said. “So?”

She took a deep breath. “So, it was testing you,” she said.
“To see which you would choose. The faerie understood it and tried to get you
to choose evil.”

“The sword was testing me?” he asked, more than a little
skeptical. “Em, it’s a piece of metal. It takes orders from the hand that holds
it.”

“Aye, that would be the case if it were,” she raised an
eyebrow and purposely imitated his tone, “Only a piece of metal.
 
But Chrysaor has magic forged into it, and
that magic serves the master of the sword.
 
It was testing you to see if you chose white or dark magic.”

“White or dark?”
Sean asked. “This
is a sword, not a turkey.”

She sighed audibly and rolled her eyes. “I didn’t realize
you were so dense,” she complained. “And so, let me explain it to you as I
would a wee bairn.”

“Oh, thank you,” he replied sarcastically. “And make sure
you speak slowly, too.”

She grinned. “Magic is very much like electricity,” she
explained. “It travels in waves, often using predetermined paths that you
humans call ley lines.”

“Ian has mentioned them to me,” he said.

“Aye, he’s one of the intelligent ones,” she teased. “So,
your electricity has two kinds of currents, alternating or direct. The magic
waves can be light, or a power used for good, or they can be dark, a power used
for destruction.
 
And magic tools, like
swords, can access their power from one of those two sources.”

“But the Elk King had this sword last,” Sean questioned.
“Doesn’t that mean it’s wired for dark power?”

She shook her head. “As the sword takes on a new owner, it
gives the owner the chance to choose the source,” she said.

“The test,” Sean added.

“Exactly,” she said. “And the faerie could feel that you and
the sword had not yet connected.
 
He was
trying to have you use the sword in anger against a foe who had already
surrendered to you.”

“And if I had succumbed?” he asked.

“Well, the sword and you are partners now,” she said. “And
you would have had dark power at your disposal; it’s a temptation that few have
been able to resist.”

“It would have turned me dark, you’re saying.”

“It would have tried,” she replied. “And if you continued to
resist, it might have driven you mad.”

Sean exhaled slowly and ran his hand through his hair.
“Well, there’s a lot about this magic I still need to learn,” he said and then
he stopped. “Wait. Why didn’t it do the same for you?
 
You killed him. Are you at risk?”

She shook her head. “No, my sword and I have been together
for a long time,” she said. “It knows my heart and motivation.
 
Besides, I wasn’t killing in anger, I was
killing to protect—” She paused for only a moment.
“My friend.
I was killing to protect my friend.”

A smile spread across his face, although his heart was not
quite satisfied. “Thank you, Em,” he said. “It’s an honor to be considered a
friend.”

“I should have told you about the sword and the test sooner,”
she replied, angry at herself for not thinking of it sooner. “And for that, I
apologize.”

He smiled at her and put his hand on her shoulder. “Well, it
has been a busy couple of days,” he teased gently. “Thank you for stepping in
as you did.”

Nodding, she smiled back. “You’re welcome.”

He looked past her to Jamal. “You okay?” he asked.

Jamal stood up and nodded slowly, looking around as if he
were waiting for something else to appear. “I didn’t know the world was so
weird.”

Sean smiled. “Yeah, neither did
I
.”

Em and Sean walked across the gym to Jamal. “So, what
happened?” Sean asked.

Jamal shook his head. “I don’t really know,” he replied. “I
was doing my schoolwork, and grandma said she was going to lay down for a
little bit.
 
A few minutes later I hear
her calling for me, needing my help.
 
I
get out of the chair and start heading towards her bedroom, but then I realize
her voice is coming from out in the hall.
 
I pull the door open and she’s lying on the floor in the hall.”

“Was she hurt?” Sean asked.

Jamal shook his head. “I don’t know. Last thing I remember I
was running down the hall towards her and then I’m here, tied up,” he said.

“Well, your grandmother is fine,” Em said. “We just left her
a few minutes ago.”

“She’s not hurt?” he asked.

“No, it probably wasn’t even her that you saw in the
hallway,” Sean said. “These faeries can shape shift and make us think they are
someone they’re not.” He turned and smiled at Em.
“Right Em?”

“So we need to be smarter than they are,” she agreed.

“We should have a code word,” Jamal said. “Something that
only we know and we could use to each other to know we’re really who we say we
are.”

“That’s a brilliant idea, kid,” Sean said, placing his arm
around Jamal’s shoulder. “Let’s get downstairs and tell everyone else about
your idea.”

He guided Jamal to the door, then stopped and turned to Em.
“We don’t know if there are any more of them in the church,” he stated. “Do you
want to take lead or should I?”

She moved in front of the two of them, her sword in front of
her. “I’ll take lead,” she said. “But don’t forget to watch your back.”

They traveled down the corridor to the staircase, Sean with
one arm still around Jamal’s shoulders and the other hand clenching his
sword.
 
Em was a few steps ahead of them,
prepared for an attack.
 
They reached the
staircase, and once again, Em started ahead of them, peering over the railing
to make sure they were alone.

Jamal looked up at Sean. “I don’t get it,” he whispered.
“Why do they want me so bad?
 
Other folks
have seen those monsters, not just me.”

“That’s a good question,” Sean replied.
“And
one that we need to figure out soon, to keep you safe.”

When Ian stepped up into the stairwell, all Em saw was a
shadow, and she immediately sprang into action.
 
With one hand on the banister and the other grasping her sword, she
pushed herself up and over the banister to the stairs on the other side.
 
Landing with ease, she leapt the few
remaining stairs to engage the threat.

All Ian saw was a darkened figure, sword in hand, jumping at
him.
 
Feinting to the side, he pushed off
the wall of the stairwell, came in low and grabbed his attacker’s arm, slapping
it back against the brick wall.
 

“Why you….” Em shouted, struggling to get out of his grip.

“Em?”
Ian asked.

She froze. “Ian?” she said and looked down at the man who
captured her arm. “What the hell are you doing?
 
Sneaking up on us like that?
 
I
could have killed you.”

“I was just coming up to help,” he said, releasing her arm.
“And didn’t think it was very strategic to announce myself before coming up the
stairs.”

“Is everyone okay?” Sean asked, running down the stairs, his
sword in one hand and his gun in the other with Jamal following close behind.

Sighing, Em nodded. “Yes, Sean, it’s Ian coming up to help,”
she said, and then she turned to Ian. “And we were coming down, thinking the
same thing.”
 
She rubbed her forearm,
still stinging from his hold. “That’s quite a move. Where did you learn it?”

“It’s called aikido,” Ian said. “It’s a defensive martial
art. I’ll show you some of the moves.”

“I’d like that,” she replied, following him down the stairs.
“How’s Father Jack?”

“He’s angry,” Ian said. “Mostly at the faeries, but there’s
a little reserved for himself. He seems to think he should have known they
would have come here to the church.”

“And why should he have known?” Em asked as they all walked
back down the hall together. “They’ve never come to the church before.”

“Never?”
Sean asked, stopping in
his tracks. “You’ve never had an attack like this before?”

She looked at him. “No. Why? Should that concern us?”

He looked up and down the hall slowly. “Let’s just wait on
the rest of this conversation until I can be sure we aren’t being heard,” he
said.

As soon as they entered Father Jack’s apartment, Jamal was
enfolded in his grandmother’s arms. “I was so scared for you,” she sobbed, and
then she stood back and shook him gently.
“Don’t you never
do something like this again.”

Jamal grinned at her and hugged her again. “Yes, ma’am, I
won’t,” he said.

Sean walked over to the kitchen where the faerie sat, tied
to a chair, the handcuffs no longer on his wrists.
 
He looked over at Father Jack, who sat on the
other side of the table, and raised a questioning eyebrow.

“Well, I couldn’t bear to hear him suffer,” Father Jack
said, not needing Sean to express his question vocally.

“And how can you be sure he won’t escape?” Sean asked.

Father Jack held up a high-end squirt gun and pointed it at
the faerie. “Holy water,” he replied. “This thing can shoot over twenty feet.”

Biting back a smile, Sean nodded and then pulled up a chair
and placed it close to the faerie. “I have a few questions for you,” he said.
“And if you don’t answer them quickly enough, I’m going to have my friend Em
encourage
you to talk.
 
She’s a little pissed at you already, so if I were you, I’d talk.”

The faerie looked over at Em who’d entered the kitchen and
was leaning against the wall, cleaning the edge of her sword with a towel. “I’m
just now wiping off the remains of your friend,” she said. “If you’d do me the
favor of not speaking with Sean, I can save myself an additional clean-up.”

His eyes widening, the faerie sat back in his chair. “You
killed
Tup
?” he asked.

“Aye, I did,” she replied easily. “And I have no qualms
about killing another faerie before the day is through.”

The faerie turned to Sean. “What is it you want from me?” he
asked.

“Why were you sent here?” Sean asked.

“I was supposed to distract the mongrel,” he replied.
“While
Tup
got the boy.”

“Are there more of you?” Sean asked.

Shaking his head, the faerie looked very nervous. “No, just
the two of us,” he stammered. “That’s all they thought it would take.”

“They?
Who are they?” Em asked,
stepping closer to the table.

“I don’t know,” he stammered, his voice shaking. “
Tup
got the orders. I followed
Tup
.
 
He told me where to find you, told me to read
your thoughts and when I found that—”

Em slammed her sword on the table, desperate to stop the faerie’s
babbling before he admitted to all in the room that her thoughts had been about
Sean and his body. “Enough,” she commanded.
“Why only me?
 
Why not the others?”

The faerie shrugged. “None of the rest
were
considered a threat,” he replied evenly.

“Well, I have to say I’m more than slightly offended,” Ian
remarked. “And so
Tup
came for the boy. Why is Jamal
so important to you?”

“I don’t know,” the faerie pleaded.
“Truly.
 
I only know that we were supposed to take him
from here and deliver him to the Elk King.”

Jamal gasped.
“The Elk King?”

“Why does the Elk King need the boy?” Sean asked.

“The Elk King would not need Jamal,” Gillian inserted. “The
Elk King is an assassin; his only focus is the hunt. He is guided by others,
more powerful than he.
 
He would not have
asked for Jamal.”

“But if he got him…” Ian left the end of the sentence
hanging, and Gillian quickly nodded.

“Were you sent by Aengus?” Father Jack asked.

“No,
Tup
hates Aengus and all the
aristocracy who think they are better than the faeries they betrayed,” the faerie
spat. “He wanted to see Aengus buried deep in the depths of
Tir
Na Nog.”

Father Jack nodded. “Well, unfortunately for you, Aengus is
the only representative of the Sidhe we have an agreement with,” he said. “So,
we will be returning you to him.”

“But he’ll kill me,” the faerie cried.

“Like you would have killed Jamal?” Sean asked, feeling no
sympathy for the creature. “Somehow I can’t bring myself to feel any pity for
you.”

“We will encourage Aengus to spare your life,” Father Jack
said, “if you continue to cooperate with us.”

The faerie eagerly nodded his head. “Oh, aye, I’ll cooperate
in any way you wish,” he said.

“Well, we’ll just see about that,” Father Jack replied
skeptically.