Loving Ean (The Fae Guard Book 2) (12 page)

I wasn’t able to get away until about a week after the date, but we were going to have another celebration when I arrived. When I walked in the door, the atmosphere was somber and I was assaulted by a cool breeze coming from within my center causing a shiver to skitter through me. There were Fallen in the home.

I saw Gòrdan and Sarah sitting in the front room of the house talking to another couple, and the tension in the air was thick with disappointment and pain. It was also reflected on Gòrdan and Sarah’s faces, their bodies slumped in defeat. The young couple were clearly dark fae, with their raven hair and pasty, yet, tannish skin. Though the boy’s hair was a lighter brown, it had dark streaks, indicating that it was well on its way to becoming inky black. They were sitting with their backs to me, but when Gòrdan looked up, they turned to face me.

I didn’t recognize the young woman, but then my gaze fell upon the young man. I knew those eyes, the once vibrant blue had darkened until is swirled with mud, leaving only the faintest trace of their previous color. The dark orbs were surrounded by faint circles as though he hadn’t slept, his once plump cheeks were now sunken, and his lips that used to be perpetually smiling, now curled in a sinister smirk. I staggered back a step in shock, unwilling to believe what I was seeing right in front of me. I blinked a few times and as my focus returned, I couldn’t hide from it anymore. It was Rònan, he had become a Fallen. How the fuck had that happened? My eyes bounced back and forth between him and his father, looking for an answer, but Gòrdan simply shook his head, his face twisting in grief.

Rònan reached for the girl’s hand, and together they stood, fully facing me. For just a moment, uncertainty flitted across his face, until she squeezed his hand, and cuddled up to his side. She was tall and thin, her face narrow with a faintly pointed chin, her nose was . . . I don’t know how else to describe it, other than, it was a smaller version of a stereotypical witch’s nose. Her long hair fell past her waist, and dipped slightly from her hair line, meeting in a little point on her forehead. The look on her face . . . it will be forever burned into my memories. There was smug triumph on her face, and a smile playing at the corners of her thin lips, but her close-set, black eyes were hollow, her soul so dark, it was lost.

I was speechless, so I walked to a seat across the room and practically fell into it. The couple seated themselves once again and then Rònan proceeded to explain that he’d met Taran (ah, the soul-sucking bitch has a name) in the last semester of his freshman year of college. They had begun dating, but she wanted to keep their relationship a secret from her strict family until they were both a little older.
Older? Yeah right. If she is only twenty-one, then I’m a virgin.
The magic surrounding her was controlled and steady, as only an aged fae’s would be. Not to mention her poise and posture, that hinted at her being from around Victorian times.

She’d convinced him to wait until she could tell her parents after he turned twenty-one but she wanted to attend his birthday celebration. The morning of, before Gòrdan and Sarah could talk with Rònan about his true roots, Taran arrived. Eventually, Sarah asked if she was his girlfriend.

He lied.

Since he had already been marked, his dark path was set. When he was finally enlightened to the future, he’d been forced into by her manipulation, he was devastated, and broken hearted. Until she confessed to being a Fallen, attempting to excuse her behavior with declarations of her love for him, and begging him to be with her forever. He was so caught up in her web, he thought no more about what he’d left behind.

At this point, I tuned out the conversation. My mind was spinning with questions. How could I have missed the signs that he was keeping something from me? How could I have let him down? But mostly, I wanted to know how the fuck she knew he was Fae!

My questions and sorrow became a tight binding and I struggled to breathe. The worst of the emotions was the despair at knowing that my failure has caused irreparable damage. There was no saving Rònan, he was forever lost to me, and that understanding broke something inside. I’d botched things by being so close to my charge. I should have kept myself at a distance and watched the signs from the outside, looking at the big picture. Fear began to fill me, desperation to protect the rest of the leath leanbh assigned to me.

Guilt layered on top and as I watched Taran with Rònan, hatred clawing through all of the emotions, rising to the surface and causing me to shake with rage. These feelings, this atmosphere, they were caustic, and I needed to get away from it all. To find a balance and a new game plan.

I was unable to look at Gòrdan and Sarah, knowing the blame I would see in their eyes. Without a word, I left. I vowed to be more vigilant, to keep this from ever happening again. I would fight to right this wrong by throwing every bit of myself into my job. There would be no room for anything else, I couldn’t afford distractions. I felt an inner wince at this thought, knowing that I was labeling Laila in that category. However, in the end, it would be better for both of us. She would find a man who could give all of himself to her, and I would spend my eternity fighting against the adversary.

“Ean. It’s good to see you again.” Rònan’s voice breaks me from my reverie. I’m surprised at the sincerity in his tone and expression. In my peripheral, I see Taran’s face screw up in disgust, but she stays silent. I’m almost sorry; I was raised never to hit a woman, but that doesn’t mean I wasn’t looking for a reason to blister her ass a little. And, by blister I don’t mean a spanking. Second degree burns would do nicely. However, I do get a little satisfaction at the look on her face when she notices that the pond is currently inaccessible.

Kellan and Elden have come to stand beside me now, and Kellen turns to me. “You know these two?” he asks warily. My head jerks up and down once in affirmation.

“He was Rònan’s guard,” Taran pipes up. “Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. I’m surprised to see him still on the job. I imagine Fate wasn’t very happy with him when Rònan chose me. I guess the saying ‘you can’t fight fate’ is human bullshit.”

My hand begins to flood with heat, but it’s quickly extinguished when the air around it becomes wet and the moisture bathes my hand. Kellen throws me a dark look of warning and I scowl back at him. Did he really have to literally rain on my parade?
Stop pouting and acting like a little shit. You know better than to use your magic offensively.

I’m distracted from my conscience (the bastard) when Kellen inquires about the guard we are seeking. “We are looking for Niall, a guard that was last seen in this area. I don’t suppose you two know anything about that?

Taran gets a thoughtful look on her face and taps at her chin with a long, manicured finger. “Hmmmm. Tall guy? Obnoxiously blinding white hair? Sickeningly pale skin? You know, you might consider seeing the inside of a tanning bed one of these days. Chicks dig a tan. Anyway, ummmm, oh yes! Green eyes?” She pauses, obviously waiting for us to respond. We don’t, and she scowls at our unwillingness to play her little game. Then her expression clears and becomes innocent as she shrugs, giving us a bright smile.
Such a bitch.

Don’t look at me like that, you were thinking it too.

“Nope!” she chirps, “Never seen him before. But, I’ll be sure to let you know if we cross paths.” Through the whole exchange, Rònan has been quiet, standing next to Taran, arms folded across his thin chest, avoiding eye contact with me. Grief begins to creep in, but I quickly snuff it out and focus on what needs to be done now, not what could, or should have been done in the past.

“Well, have a nice night.” She gestures to the pond, “I’d appreciate it ever so much if you would take your Boy Scout Jamboree onto someone else’s land. Although, feel free to bring me back a S’more.” With a little huff, she flips her hair over her shoulder and spins around, marching back toward the house.

I’m so fucking over this chick. It’s time to make a move on the weak link. “Rònan,” He pauses hesitantly and peers at me over his shoulder. Glancing forward at Taran, he waits until she is out of sight before doing an about face and observing me warily.

“Has he fallen?” I ask softly. Rònan gives an almost imperceptible shake of his head. Relief floods through me, but its short lived since we still don’t know what the hell is going on. Her eyes are drawn to the wall of fire, and the light reflects in his obsidian pools. Eldan has kept careful control of the wind, making sure the blaze stays contained and there is a rising cloud of steam from within the fiery cocoon as the water boils and evaporates.

“I won’t hesitate, if that’s what you’re wondering, Rònan. I’ll let it spread until every inch of this land is nothing but burning ash.” I want him to realize that I can’t let our past dictate my actions. There is so much sadness and indecision in his eyes as he stares at me. Then resignation settles in their depths and he turns away.

“I’ll send him out in the morning after the sun rises. Just don’t burn down my home while you wait, yeah?” Then he is gone.

Our fourth man, (whatever his name is) trots out from the woods now and over to our little gang, where we stand in a circle. “I like the S’more idea,” he says jovially. “I might even be talked into a chorus of Kumbaya, if we’ve got enough alcohol.”

Eldan laughs and punches him in the shoulder. “Brian, no one is giving you alcohol. You get handsy, and I don’t want to have to break your everything for feeling me up.”

Kellen chuckles, “Keep it down, assholes.” He then scrutinizes me for a beat. “You trust this kid?” he asks.

“No more than any other Fallen. But, the way I see it right now, he’s our best shot. So, I’m choosing to have faith that the kid I knew is still in there somewhere.”

“LAILA!” A CHORUS OF
voices yell my name as I walk through the door to Fate’s huge, old, Victorian house. Once you’ve met her, looking at the house from the outside, the choice makes absolutely no sense. The inside however? Completely different story. Every room is a specific style, and none of them go together, but it works in a funky way. Sometimes I would swear Fate has multiple personalities, so perhaps each one of them got to decorate a space of their own.

Walking into her nineteen twenties, speakeasy styled room, I see the group of women calling me, all settled around a poker table with bottles scattered about, some empty, and some well on their way. From the looks of things, I’ve got some catching up to do. I grin and throw my coat onto a plush, purple, velvet couch next to the door, and make my way to the game table. “What’s this? I’m shocked—shocked—to find that there is gambling going on in here!”

Fate chuckles and tosses a poker chip at me. “Sit your ass down, Captain Renault.” She takes another chip and holds it up to her forehead, “I see . . . yes, I see a Laila pile in my future.”

I laugh and plop down into a chair between Hayleigh and Calista. Nissa, Ailean, and one of my five sisters, Faye, fill the other chairs. Calista, Ailean, and Nissa are all council members, but unlike the human’s distorted view of these types of leadership roles, the council is here to guide, help, and only lead up to a certain point. There is no pedestal underneath them, although they have our utmost respect, they are firmly planted on the ground like the rest of us and thus, I have no qualms about attempting to empty their bank accounts every month.

Calista grabs a beer from one of the three ice buckets on the floor around the table. The dim lighting twinkles off of her lip, nose, and eyebrow piercings when she faces me, “No Shaylee tonight?”

Since Shaylee arrived here, Hayleigh and I have become very close with her. I’ve invited her to our girl’s night before, but Aden has been hogging her and tonight, while Aden is off on assignment, she had a different invitation.

I pop the top and take a long swallow before answering, “She’s with her family. Besides, I don’t think Aden would want her to meet Fate without him there as a buffer.” I hear a snigger from the far side of the table and roll my eyes. Fate gets off on torturing my brother and I should probably stick up for him, but its freaking hilarious to watch him squirm. So, I just enjoy the show.