Loving Ean (The Fae Guard Book 2) (14 page)

WE DIDN’T LIKE THE
idea of letting the fire die down completely and then have to waste energy restarting it if things went south. We stayed up in shifts keeping a small blaze, but I don’t think any of us truly slept. There is something about this whole situation that doesn’t sit right. The sun is finally rising and I’m staring across the clearing, willing Niall to walk out of the woods and prove that remnants of the boy I knew still live in the dark Rònan I met last night.

The leaves rustle and I peer into the darkness as a lone figure stumbles through the trees. A pale, blond man emerges and there is a collective exhale of relief from our group. The closer he gets to us, the lower my heart sinks into my stomach. His body looks emaciated, his skin pasty and overly dull, and there are dark circles around his eyes. It’s clear he’s been kept in the darkness for who knows how many days, and his body has begun to wither away. Without the sun, he would have eventually died.

I search the darkness beyond, watching for some sign, any shift in the landscape, when finally, I see Rònan hovering just out of the light. He gives me a chin lift in salutation and I return the gesture as one of thanks. He stares at me for a few more seconds, his expression unreadable, before he fades back into the shadows and I can no longer see him.

Brian and Elden race over to help Niall before he collapses, but Kellen stays behind, scanning the tree line all around us, a suspicious look about his face. “Something isn’t right. I’ve been watching you, you feel it too.” I nod and he continues, “Get the fire up and going again. The sun may be rising, but there are too many shadows around here for my liking.”

Stepping back, closer to the flickering heat, I lightly blow fire out of my palm onto smoldering areas, causing the orange flames to grow. The barrier we’d formed yesterday would have burned to the ground if we hadn’t continued to grow it as food for the fire. I do the same now, but I only bring the thickening to about waist high, effectively creating a half wall, thick with twisted branches and leaves. The water begins to boil again, and steam swirls up into the sky.

The trio finally reaches us and Niall looks worse than I’d originally thought. It’s clear we’ll have to give him a little time in the sun before we can leave, or he’ll be a dead weight, making us more vulnerable. With relief, I notice that it looks as though it’s going to be a clear and sunny day. We lay Niall on the ground in a spot where the sun is shining through the trees, lighting up the dewy grass. The sunlight boosts our healing process, but we also possess an elevated ability to heal others, part of our nature as protectors. Not like you’re thinking, there’s no chocolate covered walnut from Miracle Max, or a spell that knits your bones back together. For the most part, it comes from knowledge, knowing the best and fastest methods to help the body’s progression. It’s our version of modern medicine. However, there are things that we can do that, to humans, would look as though we have some supernatural powers to fix what’s broken. In reality, it’s more like a heightened aptitude for using sunlight.

I suppose that, technically, every fae has this ability within them, but few are able to really grasp this skill. Most of us just stand in the sun and absorb the life it breathes into us, but for those few, they become proficient at actually harnessing the light, surrounding themselves with a much more concentrated amount. So, to humans, it could look as though we have a healing power of touch. Honestly, it’s more like a magnifying glass, a cocoon of warmth and radiant power.

As I said, it’s pretty rare, however, the council sent Kellen to lead this assignment because he’s known for his knowledge and healing skills. Luckily, it doesn’t appear as though Niall has any broken bones or severe injuries. Kellen kneels next to him on the ground and I watch as they both begin to lighten, looking as though they are right in the path of a noon day sun. Just like when you play that x-ray game, holding your hand into the light, and seeing the outline of your bones, they take on a faintly opaque sheen. It’s pretty amazing to watch, which is probably why my stupid ass missed the cool rush that would have alerted us to the dark fae who are now emerging from within the wooded area. I take a moment and let my magic search around me but I only feel the indication of dark power in front of me. There are only four, so it’s not like we can’t take them. Still, it’s annoying as shit, slowing down our exit, and just being a general pain in the ass.

I observe their faces and tension seeps from me when I don’t see Rònan among them. Taran walks with three male Fallen, two who bear a resemblance to her (probably brothers or cousins) and the other the little fucker from the store. They are all dressed in black jeans and t-shirts, like hitmen for the Mauricio mob. I look for horns on their evil heads, but alas, I’m disappointed. Each one is wearing some form of a self-satisfied grin and I feel a definite need to turn those smiles into a grimace of pain when I put them six feet under. I picture opening up the ground beneath them and realize I wouldn’t see their faces for long, but I’ve got a vivid imagination.

“I don’t know what it is about you, Ean.” Taran starts, disgust dripping from her words, “Rònan can’t seem to fully sever his attachment to you.” She looks me over from head to toe with a critical eye. “You’re hot and everything. You’d make some guy a very nice bitch, seeing as how you’re such a monumental asshole. However, Rònan doesn’t swing that way. So, it must be some kind of brotherly . . . whatever. Anyway, I’m thinking that I need to bury you.”

When a wall of earth shifts up behind me, about to crash down like a wave, I’m ready for it and use the push of the wind to sidestep it. “Telegraphing your moves, little girl?” I taunt. “You should know better than that. The element of surprise is always—” Without warning, I whip a whirlwind up behind the twit from earlier (who isn’t paying me any attention. When they make it this easy, it kind of takes the fun out of it), and shove him toward me, throwing a right hook into his face before he can blow right by me, “your best tool,” I finish. He’s lying on the ground, blood streaming from his obviously broken nose, and crying like a little girl.
Are you kidding me with this?

“You broke my nose,” he whines.

“Man up; stop being such a pussy!” I snap. He’s annoying the fuck out of me, so, while keeping an eye on the other three, I lean down and give him a little tap to knock him the hell out.

Douche number one down.

Taran’s demeanor is bored, with the exception of the aggravated gleam in her eye. I feel a warm presence flanking either side of me and I’m sure it’s Elden and Brian. Douche two and three both have menacing looks on their faces now. I want to yell “cut” and look around for the director of this shitty film. They just need to crack their necks and knuckles for this to be fucking cliché fight scene from a, straight to DVD, movie.

I let out a long-suffering sigh, “What the fuck do you want, Taran?”

Her bored expression morphs into an innocent one.
Innocent. What a joke. That word doesn’t apply to the spawn of Satan.

“I don’t know what you mean.” Her tone is syrupy sweet and my gag reflex almost kicks in. What the fuck does Rònan see in this chick?

I don’t respond, but continue to give her a blank stare, waiting for her to stop her little dance, and get to the fucking point. Her next move is to drop her bottom lip in what, I can only assume, is an attempt to pout.
Seriously, going to vomit over here.
When she still gets no reaction, she growls in frustration, dropping the pretenses, and settling into her natural state, that of sinister bitch. She offers a miniscule nod to douche two and three, and they begin to advance on us, staying to either side of me, clearly aiming for Elden and Brian. Fine, they can handle their own. They let them come at them, separating so that we don’t get into each other’s way and leaving me to deal with Taran

If Taran wants to square off with me, I’ve got no objection. I was raised to respect women and I would never hit one, but this is no woman. She’s pure evil with tits. I’ve got no problem beating the shit out of that. I feel the revulsion building inside me, I want to make her pay for what she has taken from me, and the fate she has doomed Rònan to. Off to my right, I hear a grunt, then see Elden’s guy go flying into a tree trunk so hard it cracks. He’s not unconscious though and he gets up just as Elden reaches him, landing a straight punch to his sternum. Ouch. Then he grabs him around the neck into a choke hold, compressing his jugular to disrupt blood flow until he passes out. When Elden releases him, he falls in a heap onto the dewy grass.

Douche number two down.

Focusing back one hundred percent on Taran, I decide to move this along; it’s getting tedious. A tree branch elongates behind her and then a little wind whips it across her backside. Yeah, that’s going to leave a nasty mark. She screams in pain and anger, her knees almost buckling. Her eyes are wild now, exactly what I was hoping for. I want her to lose control and get careless. Then of course, there is the rising sun that is high enough in the sky to be flooding most of the clearing with light. Odds are in my favor.
We should get a pool going.
Nah, who’d bet against me?

Her eyes flicker to the pond behind me, but she won’t find a solution there. The water is too hot for her to use and the wind will only dilute the steam before it reaches me. I’m practically gloating when I pull apart some of the roots and branches, making an opening for her to see the boiling water, bubbling and popping.
Stop being a cocky asshole.
I see no reason to listen to Jiminy Cricket. Instead, I decide to taunt her a little more, “Taran, you’re out of your mind if you think you can get the best of me. Besides, I’m getting bored, so would you mind telling me what the point of all of this is? It’s not like I can redeem Rònan and take him away from you.”

She snarls at me and takes a step closer, but I stand firm, refusing to give her an inch. The wild look in her eyes has officially crossed into psychotic territory and when she whips out a jagged knife, I fight not to roll my eyes. The handle is metal. We can manipulate elements to create heat. Put it together and what do you get?
Sweeny Todd is about to get schooled.
The molecules surrounding the metal move faster and heat up, in turn, warming the knife to a point where it begins to sear her skin. Fae don’t do well with metals because of their ability to heat it. It’s yet another thing that humans have built upon until folklore has them believing that iron is fatal to the Fae.
What bullshit.

As the silver surface glows red, Taran starts screaming in pain, but, to my surprise, (I can’t account for
every
scenario) she keeps her grip and runs straight at me. A small gust of wind blows some of the flames out from behind me to nip at Taran. She jumps back in terror, dropping the knife, and falling to her knees. The fire only came close enough to cause her to retreat, and now it’s died back down, prompting me to glance around rapidly, looking for the source of the breeze. Just beyond her, I see movement and recognize Rònan standing half behind a tree, watching the scene unfold before him. I feel a crack in my heart when I see the pain and sadness etched on his face. He looks torn.

Taran is looking around madly, most likely having figured out that the incident wasn’t of my doing. However, Rònan is too far out of her sightline for her to know it was him. I’m not a killer, and hunting with the Ohtar is as hard for me as anyone. But, after all that she has done, I find myself so tempted to rid both realms of her evil. I might have given in to the instinct if I hadn’t seen him standing there, watching me with such agony.

Brian suddenly comes into my view just as he lands a roundhouse to his opponent’s head, who then drops to the ground like a bag of rocks.

Douche number three down.

It’s time to wrap this up. I decide to incapacitate her, and just get the fuck out of here. Pulling roots from nearby trees, I try to get her caged in their embrace before she realizes what’s going on, but they are just a little too far away, and she is able to get up off the ground before they reach her. She’s got the knife in her hand again, but I’m too focused on my current task to worry about it. The tangle of tree limbs finally gets close enough, so I push away some of the dirt in front of her, making a downward slope that will cause her to stumble and fall backwards.

With my focus being split on different tasks, I don’t notice that a root has sprung up just behind her, high enough that when she steps on the slip spot, it keeps her from tumbling back and instead, she is pitched forward. Her hands fly up to brace herself, but she is still clutching the knife in her left hand. I watch in horror as the scene practically becomes slow motion, and with every passing millisecond; the sharp instrument gets closer to piercing her right through the heart.

Somewhere beyond the rushing of blood in my ears, I hear a muted cry of torment, but I can’t look away. At last, the world comes back to full speed just as she lands on the weapon and it slices through her, protruding from her back, killing her instantly. Revulsion builds inside me as I realize what I’ve done. My hearing returns, and I realize that Rònan is racing over to Taran, and the tortured sounds I’m hearing are coming from him. Just as he reaches her side, a heavy gust blows solidly into him, knocking him right over her body, and directly into the pond of molten water.