A Crack in Everything (16 page)

He hadn’t even dared to dream of being part of a pack.

‘It’s history,’ he told Blythe and willed her to leave him. But Blythe didn’t move.

‘History repeats. History is always with us. The history writes the tale of the man to be.’

‘And old adages don’t solve anything. Certainly don’t get us out of here. Or bring my father home. Don’t try to excuse him. It doesn’t make us family any more than it makes Brí and Izzy mother and daughter.’ Misery dragged the words from him. Knowing more about what happened didn’t help. Knowing that he hadn’t been abandoned couldn’t erase the years of believing that they hadn’t wanted him.

‘But their blood does.’

‘No, it doesn’t,’ Izzy interrupted, her voice stronger than he would have imagined. ‘She’s nothing to me.’

To Jinx’s surprise, Blythe gave a brief but respectful bow. To Izzy. If the girl noticed, she didn’t react, too much anger running its course through her still, perhaps. Much as his own.

‘Do you need anything, Lady Isabel?’ Blythe asked.

Izzy stared at her. ‘Yes. Obviously. We need to leave. And Jinx needs out of those chains.’

Yes
, he thought.
Because then I can fight our way free
. For once they were of the same mind. The thought pleased him almost
as much as the need to attack bit deep into his guts.

And at the same time … he didn’t want to fight through
this
Cú Sídhe pack. Not now. Not knowing what he had discovered. Something unwound within him. Just for a moment.

If Blythe would just take the chains off …

‘I can’t,’ Blythe sighed. ‘Not without her command to do so. She is quicksilver, our Brí. For the last twenty years, she’s been worse than ever. But she cares, deep down. Unlike Holly. She wouldn’t have given you up lightly, Jinx. I know she didn’t. If you can find it in your heart—’

‘Weren’t you listening to her back there?’

‘Perhaps we heard different things. Perhaps you should think about it.’

‘She bound me with silver. She tortured me.’

Blythe shook her head, her eyes coming back to his face as if she could see inside him. ‘Well, you were about to say something terrible. And she is still a matriarch. We would have raised you better.’

‘Well, you didn’t. I don’t have a pack.’

She reached out her hand unexpectedly, too fast for him to dodge out of the way. But instead of striking him, her fingers brushed against his head, stroking his hair so gently.

‘Yes, you do. You have always had a pack. I’m sorry you can’t see that. Truly.’ She drew back, smiling at his stunned expression for a moment before she snapped her fingers and led the Cú Sídhe away, closing the door behind them.

Jinx turned to her, but Izzy just sat there, watching him
with a careful expression. ‘You’re her daughter,’ he said.

‘No.’ The vehemence with which she said the word gave her the lie.

‘Izzy—’ he warned.

She wilted, in that instant, curling into herself, her hands covering her face and her shoulders shook as if she had a palsy. Guilt left him unmanned. He couldn’t leave her like that. She was just a girl, after all, confused, afraid, and so far out of her depth now that she didn’t know the way back to shore. Jinx knelt before her and took her hands as best he could, the chains hampering his movements. The fire of their touch seemed to lessen in her presence, or perhaps that was just wishful thinking, but she’d healed him before.

Her hands were very small in his and so cold. She blinked at him, her eyes so bright a blue they might have been sapphires. He could see Brí’s gaze in them now, knowing what he knew, though there was nothing of the hatred and the disdain. Had Brí charmed her father so? She must have, but he couldn’t imagine it.

Although, she could command too, and would. She was Aes Sídhe, just like Holly. Charm took too long.

‘It can’t be true,’ said Izzy.

‘What do you feel? Not think.’ Humans were creatures of thought. Sídhe were different. Creatures of emotion.

‘I don’t know. Afraid. Confused. Lost.’

Lost. Yes, he could recall that feeling. It came back to him now. He had been four years old when Brí used him to pay
the blood debt to Holly. He’d run through the hollow and the surrounding woodland like a feral child, more puppy than Sídhe, secure and safe in the midst of pack he barely remembered now. But then everything had changed. All that warmth and security had been snatched from him when Silver came to take him to Holly. And, just before they left, Brí had laid down that geis upon him. The one that now tied him to her daughter, Izzy.

Had she known? How could she have known?

Or was this just an elaborate trick of heaven, or hell? The angel had drawn her to him. She’d walked right up to the gate and the angel was waiting for her.

Waiting just for her, leading her to him.

Back to the world which she came from. To Brí.

To the ghosts of his past.

‘It’s going to be okay,’ he told her.

She gave him a look like he’d said the sky was yellow. ‘I’m going mad. Hearing voices, delusions, seeing things … it’s the only explanation. I’m having a breakdown. Because of Dad. Because of … I don’t know. But Jinx, this can’t be true. None of it.’

‘I know it might seem like that, but it is. You have to stay calm. We will get out. Silver will think of something. It’s what she does.’

‘Silver.’ She sighed. ‘Why did she bring Dylan?’

The thought had worried at the base of his brain as well. Why bring a human here? But Silver had. As if she needed
something from him. A Leanán Sídhe had only one use for a human – the lover she inspired, the victim she eventually destroyed. But in between those two states—

Someone she could trust unreservedly. Or someone with a reason to be there of his own so powerful he didn’t care about his life anymore. Who would protect her, who Holly couldn’t touch, who could take care of her if anything—

His grip tightened on Izzy’s hand and she winced. ‘No,’ he whispered and surged to his feet, just as an unnatural scream tore its way through the halls of Brí’s hollow. ‘Silver!’

Jinx threw himself at the door, slamming his shoulder over and over against the wood. Running footsteps on the other side were the only thing that made him pause. When Blythe opened the door again, he pushed past her, sprinting down the hallway. Even with the chains he was faster. Silver’s scream cut off abruptly, but he kept going, pushing harder and harder, his body still struggling in vain against the enchantments of the collar.

The cavern opened up around him and he saw her, lying on the floor at the edge of Brí’s pool, her hair spilling about her head like rays of light. Dylan held her, cradled her and tried slowly to lift her. He staggered, almost unable to do it, he was trembling so badly.

‘What happened?’ Jinx roared, baring his teeth. ‘What have you done?’

Brí still stood there, holding something in her cupped hands, something bright and beautiful, an ethereal light. She
looked up, startled, and then smiled. The expression was gleeful, like a child with a new toy.

‘Well, there you are. Just in time.’

Izzy joined him, her hand a light touch on his shoulder, so small a caress, so welcome a comfort. ‘What did you do to her?’

Brí rolled her eyes and then drew the light to her chest. It only took a moment before it was gone, absorbed in the luminescence of her own form. Around her neck, the huge piece of amber in her necklace glowed like another sun. She opened her mouth and sang, with Silver’s voice.

‘A deal,’ said Dylan, his face like a death mask. His eyes glistened and he pulled Silver closer. She was breathing, but unconscious. She’d given up the bulk of her magical power, all but the final shred that was currently sustaining her, giving it to Brí. And for what?

Brí spread out her arms in a formal gesture of announcement. ‘You’re free to go. I rescind all rights to you, Jinx. Again. But don’t let me catch you back here or I won’t be so generous. Get out of my sight. And as for you, Isabel the ungrateful, you’re always welcome. On my terms. If you come here again, be prepared to curb that temper and do what you’re told. Remember, there’s much I can teach you. Things that no one else can. You’re my child, my blood. Not a firstborn, perhaps, but special nonetheless. Child of a matriarch, which means a portion of my power is yours. See you don’t squander it as Silver has. I don’t expect you to be submissive – I never was
– but I do expect you to acknowledge me. Never forget that. And next time, ask nicely.’

‘Wait!’ Dylan’s voice broke through the silence like a whip. They all turned on him, but he still sat there, cradling Silver. His face was white with rage, his eyes like stones. ‘The banshee, who sent it?’

‘What banshee?’ Brí snarled at him. ‘I have no filthy banshees in my kith.’

‘There was a banshee. It killed my sister.’ A flicker passed over his face, a tick in his clenched jaw. ‘Who sent it?’

Something changed in Brí’s demeanour. She stepped forward and Dylan gathered Silver closer in his arms. But Brí just studied him, her eyes searching his.

‘It isn’t my style,’ she said more gently. ‘Humans shouldn’t play near us. It’s perilous. Don’t you understand that yet?’ Dylan’s jaw tightened still further, but he didn’t answer, just held Silver and stared back, waiting. ‘You shine. Enough to interest her. I suppose that’s why she brought you. But even the pet of a Leanán Sídhe can’t help her when she’s lost her power.’

‘Who killed my sister?’

Brí smiled, as if she’d suddenly solved a riddle. ‘Is it revenge you’re after, little man? Then it’s a dark path you’re walking. Maybe Holly can tell you, but it’s not like you’ll get out of the Market alive. The only soft spot she has for humans is over a pit of spears. Revenge changes a man, enslaves him. Revenge is the way of the Sídhe. Perhaps you’ve more Sídhe
blood in you than anyone knows. Even a drop in the mix can transform the mundane to something special. Did she tell you that you were special?’ Dylan glanced down at Silver and Brí laughed. ‘Silver has been alive for thousands of years, human. More time than you can fathom. She’s known rather a large number of “special” humans. None of them are with her now. Understand?’

‘Are you trying to be cruel?’ Izzy asked bitterly.

If anything, Brí looked surprised. Her voice sounded unexpectedly gentle. ‘No, Isabel. I’m being kind. I’m being honest. Now go, all of you. Go on. I’ve had it with the lot of you.’

As if released from a cell, Jinx scrambled across the wide expanse of the floor, to Dylan. Together they lifted Silver and her eyes fluttered open. Her beautiful eyes.

‘What did you do?’ he asked, desperate. Afraid. ‘Why did you give her your voice?’

‘Had to,’ she whispered, little more than a croak. ‘We should leave. I need … I need to rest. Recover. Take me back to my hollow. The tree will restore me. Please.’

‘Did Holly send you?’

She shook her head and pressed her face into Dylan’s shoulder.

Jinx gazed at the young man’s stricken features. ‘That’s why she brought you. She can trust you. You’re hers and hers alone.’

‘I don’t belong to her or anyone.’ But he held her closer. ‘They sent a banshee. They killed my sister. I can’t—’ He fell silent as Izzy approached and lowered his eyes. Couldn’t bear
to look at her perhaps. Couldn’t admit to her what Jinx already knew. That whether or not he had consigned his soul to Silver’s care, he was already hers. That the need for revenge had brought him here but he’d never suspected what he’d find.

‘Take his chains off,’ Silver tried to say, though it came out as little more than a whisper. ‘You know what they do to him.’

They burned, like his studs, like every ring he wore. But the little points of pain were only there to remind him that Holly ruled him, that Holly preferred him in Sídhe form to hound form and to help him maintain it. The chains and collar … they bound him with fire, a thousand times more powerful. He could endure it, barely, but the pain was boring away at his mind, at his will.

He recalled the first time Holly had marked him. It had been like this – searing, agonising, pain he thought would only end when it robbed him of his sanity or his life. But Silver had been there. She’d held him as he screamed, had soothed him as best she could. She had sung to him as he sobbed himself to sleep.

Brí gave a dismissive wave of her hand. ‘Do you think I’m a fool? Once he’s out of my hollow, they’ll come off. Until then, the traitor-child stays chained.’

‘Come on,’ Jinx said, turning his back on her. ‘We’ve got to get Silver out of here.’ All of them, if the truth be told. And while the going was good. It was not beyond Brí to have a complete change of mind before they reached the doors. In fact, he was expecting it. ‘Now!’

The single barked word did it, shocking Izzy and Dylan into action. Between them they supported Silver and Jinx fell in behind them.

It was Blythe who led the way, her fluid figure clothed now, but no less alluring. And yet still he felt nothing.

Surely that was wrong. But for the girl who had attempted to kiss him, the girl he had rejected, his heart beat stronger than ever.

And that felt wrong as well. She was the daughter of his former matriarch, and therefore the enemy of his current matriarch. She was half-blood, like him, Aes Sídhe and Grigori. She was forbidden in so many ways. And yet …

He shook his head, fought the snarl rising up from deep inside him. Blythe glanced at them, her gaze passing from Izzy to him. She knew. The females always knew. Where one was tied, where a bond existed, even one he didn’t want. Even one he hated.

Chapter Sixteen

Demons in the Dark

B
lythe stopped at the door to the hollow, pressing her hand to the stones at its side. Nothing happened. Izzy felt Silver tense.

The Cú Sídhe leader just stared at them, studying each one of them with her piercing metallic eyes.

‘She’s unlikely to just let you go. Even if it looks that way now. She may still change her mind, or run out of patience waiting for you to return.’

Izzy swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly dry. ‘Will she come after us?’

‘She rarely leaves the hollow, not these days. But she’ll send someone. Me probably. Like it or not she’s your blood, Isabel, and—’

‘Izzy. No one calls me Isabel.’

Surprisingly a smile tugged the corner of Blythe’s lips. ‘Izzy,
then. You’re her daughter. And as such others will hate you. She expects you to come back to her, you know.’

‘I won’t.’

Blythe nodded. ‘We’ll see. It’s unlikely you’ll have a choice in the end.’ She slammed her hand onto the stones and the doorway shimmered and opened. The night air rushed in on them with the sounds of the forest and distant traffic. ‘They’re out there. I can smell them.’

Jinx took a step forward, his nostrils flaring. ‘Yes. So can I.’

‘You’d better be quick.’ She stepped aside, clearing their way and the night, along with whatever waited out there.

They stepped through the doorway and Jinx stopped. The shackles and collar holding him restrained snapped open and fell. Blythe picked them up, her long fingers running over their shining surface. Pain crossed her features but when she looked at Jinx, Izzy saw only remorse.

‘How do you bear it?’ she whispered. She didn’t mean the collar or shackles. Her eyes lingered on the silver still piercing him.

‘I bear what I must. It’s what we do, isn’t it?’

Blythe reached out, her hand tracing his cheek, his jaw, his neck where the tattoos marked his skin. ‘For those we love, yes. For those who love us. But for those who steal our shape and force us to look like them and then loathe us anyway? Who take our freedom out of spite? No, Jinx. You need to love where it’s worthy, boy. Jasper knew that.’

Jinx shied away from her and Blythe let him go with a sigh.
He flexed his arms, stretched his neck and spine and grinned at Izzy, showing all his teeth. Not a joyful grin. More like a grimace.

‘Give her to me.’ He stretched out his arms and with only slight hesitation, Dylan and Izzy released Silver. He took her in strong and sure arms and Silver stirred, looking at him groggily.

‘There are demons,’ she whispered. ‘Shades and demonspawn. Close by.’

‘I know. I know it well. Don’t be afraid.’

Demons? Demonspawn? Izzy bit on her lower lip. ‘What do you mean, don’t be afraid?’

‘They sent a banshee, killed the girl,’ Silver went on. ‘I couldn’t stop it.’

Izzy looked to Dylan, his taut white features, the hard line of his mouth. His eyes glittered for a moment and he looked away. Mari? Izzy registered it. Oh, God! They’d killed her? It couldn’t be true. Not Mari. She wasn’t involved in any of this. Why? And now she barely knew Dylan. They had stolen them both.

She tried to breathe, tried to draw in air, and it wouldn’t come. Her chest ached, tight and unforgiving. She burned inside, but there was nowhere for it to go. They’d killed Mari, to get to her.

‘
And why not?
’ said the angel from deep inside her. A sly whisper which knew her far too well. ‘
They don’t care about humans. They never have. They’re different, heartless, and think only
of themselves. They have always been that way, since the first days
.’

Nowhere was safe. Not here on the hillside, not Dublin or Dubh Linn, not the hospital, not even the coffee shop set firmly in the human world where Mari had died. The Sídhe were taking everything from her, every last precious thing. And she didn’t seem able to do a single thing to stop them. Her life as she had known it was running like water through her fingers. She’d been normal. Her life had been normal. And now … now …

‘I know,’ Jinx said. ‘I’ll protect you.’

But he wasn’t talking to her. He was gazing only at Silver.

‘All of us?’ said Dylan, dubiously.

‘Yes.’ He glanced at Dylan and then nodded solemnly. ‘Give him a weapon, Blythe.’

She offered him the long-bladed knife she carried. Dylan took it without hesitation, testing the weight in his hand.

‘Can you use that? If needs be?’ Jinx asked.

Dylan nodded far too confidently and Jinx seemed to accept that. Izzy studied her friend’s face, trying to work out what had changed, where the brittle hardness had come from. Jinx’s voice snapped her back to attention. ‘Izzy, where is yours?’

She pulled it out of her sleeve and held it in front of her. All the fae regarded it with distaste. Good. It protected her from them, but she didn’t know how it would help her. ‘What are knives going to do against demons?’

‘More than you know. Iron is of the earth, tamed by mankind. That knife is special. If they should come at you, draw a
circle in the earth and bless it. Say a prayer, ask for protection, whatever words work for you. Understand. And don’t cross that line. I’ll come. It’s not far, downhill all the way. You just have to run.’

Izzy tucked the knife back into her sleeve and looked up, catching sight of something in the polished bronze walls, something that startled her. It held her reflection, but she hardly recognised herself. Not a girl, not really. Something more. But not really a woman either.

Her fingers searched out the changes in her face, but found the same features she’d always known. ‘What’s happened to me?’

‘You know what you are now,’ Blythe replied. ‘They say that when anyone meets Brí she changes them. That cannot be helped. Your blood recognised her, even if you deny it.’

‘I know what I
am
?’ She couldn’t believe what they were saying. The casual way they discussed her. Dismissed her. ‘What the hell do you think I am?’

Blythe’s gaze didn’t falter. She just stared off through the trees. ‘You? You’re one of us. Well, half-blood anyway. Half Aes Sídhe, the highest of us all. Not that it helps you really. And as for the whole Grigori thing …’ She rolled her eyes as if Izzy presented a puzzle she wasn’t even going to bother to attempt. ‘Most of the fae regard any kind of half-blood as tainted, so I suppose that puts you more at our level in the scheme of things. They don’t love the Cú Sídhe as they should.’ Her chin lifted and she inhaled, nostrils flaring. ‘You need a decoy, Jinx.
May I?’

He just raised an eyebrow, a question Izzy couldn’t read. But Blythe could. She rolled her shoulders and he nodded. ‘Be my guest.’

She moved fluidly from Sídhe to hound shape, her clothes pooling behind her. Her dark skin transformed into sleek fur, so dark and deep a green as to be almost black, and her nails lengthened to claws. She gripped the ground for a moment, raking it slightly, and then sprang forward, into the night.

Jinx watched her for another moment and Izzy frowned as the bitter seeds of jealousy unfurled inside her.

‘Let’s go,’ said Jinx and together they began the helter-skelter dash downhill, through the darkness and the night. For a moment she thought of the Wishing Stone again, the compulsion she’d felt to go there. And then she was past it, and she didn’t have time to think any more.

Trees flashed by her, the ground leapt up to meet her feet, making her stumble and pitch forward. She almost tripped, and only just managed to catch herself before falling. Dylan appeared from nowhere, his hand out to stop her fall.

‘Are you okay?’ He wasn’t even out of breath.

‘Yeah, I’m – where’s Jinx?’

‘I’m not sure. I can see the path though. Come on.’ He held out his hand and she took it gratefully. As soon as he held her he ran, pulling her along after him. Izzy had no choice but to run.

‘Where are we going?’

‘Your house. It isn’t far. We’ll be safe.’

‘How do you know?’ Panic was getting the better of her. The shadows were moving again and the mark on her neck was so cold it burned. The voice, however, was strangely silent. No bloody use to her now.

‘Silver told me. Then we’re going to find whoever sent that banshee.’

‘What banshee?’

‘The one that killed Marianne!’

The wave of pain in his voice hit her like a blunt instrument, the words, the wild emotions spinning around him, the chaos in his eyes. She turned to deny it, to tell him no, it had to be a mistake. But before she could do anything, darkness rose in a wave before them and Dylan ran right at it. The walls that went nowhere loomed out of the shadows. The shadows surged towards them.

‘Stop!’ Izzy yelled, throwing herself backwards. They both went down in a tangle of limbs and undergrowth. Pushing him off her, she wasted no time, digging the iron-bladed knife into the ground. ‘Help us, please. Dear God, please, help us.’ She dragged it into a rough circle and jerked her head up as something launched itself out of the shadows between the trees, a patch of darkness with points of red for eyes. She screamed as it bore down on her, teeth forming from the glinting light that slanted off it.

With a concussive chime and a flash of electrostatic, it glanced off nothing right in front of her and howled.

‘Holy crap, it works,’ Dylan breathed.

They huddled together in the circle as the shadows uncoiled from the ground and air, creeping towards them in silence.

A growl rippled through the air. Izzy shied back, bumping into Dylan and giving a startled cry. The growl transformed into a laugh, not a human laugh. Not one of the Cú Sídhe. Not even any type of Sídhe. And it certainly couldn’t be called angelic, which only left one option.

The shadows boiled and writhed, sliding from tree to tree like oil until they halted, rising from the ground in a black and glossy wave, twisting in on themselves until they formed a figure.

He wore an ankle-length trench coat and the brim of a hat came down over his burning eyes. Shades darted around his feet like terriers, snarling and baring their too-white teeth. He stepped right up to the edge of the circle, gazing down on the pair of them. Even this close, Izzy couldn’t make out his features. Only the general shape of his face and the cruel hint of a mouth. And the eyes. Like points of fire. But she had seen him before. Outside the house last night. Watching her.

‘Well, now. That’s a clever trick, little girl.’ He walked around them, each step carefully placed to avoid touching the line she had made. ‘If you’re planning on sitting there for the rest of the night, it’s going to get cold and pretty nasty out here. And if you think your dog’s coming to the rescue … Well, I think you’ll find he’s occupied elsewhere.’

Jinx! Izzy jerked upright. ‘What have you done to him?’

‘Done to him?’ He laughed again, the same sound, halfway between laugh and snarl. Dangerous. Knowing. ‘Well, nothing.
Yet
. It’s you I’m interested in. Or rather—’ He tapped his temple with his index finger, ‘—your little hitchhiker.’

Izzy felt the angel stir, afraid, burrowing deeper into the back of her mind, digging in like an animal at bay. Great. So much help. ‘My … my what?’

He smiled his cruel smile, leaned in closer. This time he whispered. ‘I think we both know what I’m talking about. Come out of there, and I’ll show you.’

Dylan’s hands closed on her upper arms, holding her back in case she’d momentarily lost her mind or something. Izzy couldn’t shake the feeling of relief. Part of her wanted to move. Something primal which longed to obey. It terrified her, its strength, its bone-deep conviction.

She forced herself to speak. ‘I don’t think so. Who are you, anyway?’

‘Azazel,’ he said with a laugh lurking behind the name. ‘You can call me Azazel. Or Uncle.’

‘Uncle?’ she repeated, staring at him, cold dread clawing at her. The fear leached away at her, paralysing her, making her heart thunder against her ribs.

He stretched out his hand. His fingers were too long, the nails sharp and yellowed like old bone. Though the gesture was full of grace, it held such a sense of threat that her breath caught in her throat, choking her. ‘Sometimes it means “my father’s brother”, sometimes it’s a term of affection for an
elderly male relative. Sometimes it means “I give up”. Which one is up to you.’

‘Leave us alone,’ said Dylan, before Izzy could formulate a reply.

Azazel’s finger jerked towards him instead. ‘You’re walking a fine line, young man. You’re going to end up burned. You’ve already paid more than most would dare. Or do you think your sister will be the last victim? We’re watching you now. So very closely. Talent and luck won’t save you, not from
her
. And they won’t help you with her either. She’s dangerous.’

‘You leave Silver out of this.’

He grinned wickedly. ‘Was I talking about Silver? She isn’t here. Why should I include her?’

Dylan scowled. ‘Who sent that banshee?’

Azazel smiled at him, a thin, unpleasant smile. ‘There’s a price to know that too. A price not even you’re willing to pay. So shut up or your guilt will destroy you. Come out of the circle, Isabel. Come out and play.’