Shatter - Sins of the Sidhe (38 page)

Devlin came to see who she was talking to, but saw nothing. Rowan didn’t say anything else. Looking up at her husband, she took him by the hand and said, “Take me to bed.”
 

Devlin lit a fire and they climbed into his big warm bed. His sheets smelled like home to her now, and it made her feel instantly at peace. Rowan watched as he got undressed and climbed under the sheets beside her. There was so much to say and yet they spoke not a word. Devlin held her body close to his, head resting on top of hers, and they both gazed into the fire. She loved the way the embers pulsed and flames licked the wood.

The fire was hypnotic and the heat and colors made her miss her studio. Life seemed so much simpler last month, but she wouldn’t trade what she’s got now for the world. All the actions taken in her lifetime has led her here – to Devlin. The man was worth walking into Hell itself for. Rowan thought about it and realized that there was nothing she wouldn’t do for him. She’d walk on hot coals to be in his embrace, fight a thousand demons to have one kiss from his lips, give a piece of her soul to hear his laugh, and she would go back to that hell pit and kill a devil to ensure a lifetime of happily ever after with him.

Hearing her thoughts and sensing her emotions, he pulled her in even closer. “By the Gods, I love ye woman.” He played her thoughts over and over in his head. Aye, he was the luckiest man in the world. ‘Tis nothing for a man to run towards a fight, ‘tis
an honor to protect his home and his family, but to have wife who was willing to do the same for him is a rarity. Rowan was the most magnificent creature...and she was his. No one else’s but his.

They’d fallen asleep at some point, but who knows which one fell asleep first. Rowan kept the blade on her bedside table. It was closer than the chair, and that made her feel better. She wanted it in her hand, but was afraid she’d slice herself in her sleep by accident. A howl from the wind woke her up out of a sound sleep.

No, it wasn’t the wind. It was definitely a howl though.

Rowan hopped out of bed and went to the window. Shadows were everywhere, snaking around outside just past the tree line. All eyes were on her – not that she could actually see their eyes, but she could definitely feel them. Devlin got up and came to her side. His necklace came alive on his chest, magic pulsing in the silver circle. With a gasp, he grabbed it and then took another look outside. The sound of cicadas grew louder and louder. He’d never seen shadows like this before and knew that these must be the things that have followed Rowan most of her life. It was intimidating to say the least and their noise was annoying and loud to his ears.

“What are they?” Devlin asked, though probably just thinking out loud.

“Trouble,” Rowan answered back. The sounds they were making made Rowan think they were mad. No… they were excited. “Something has them wound up,” Rowan walked out of the bedroom and into the living room for better look. They had the house surrounded and Ro was very grateful a swarm this size never came to her room before.

“Why can’t they get in here?” It was a question packed with relief.

“Och, I put up so many protection spells and wards around the house, I doubt anything will pass these barriers.”

Rowan was suddenly very grateful and appreciative of such high-end protection. But the buzzing wouldn’t stop in her ears and her teeth were starting to rattle. Rowan’s body shook and she reached out while her vision faltered. “Devlin!” was all she managed to say before her eyes turned white and colorless.

Flashes, screams, lights and fire
. The visions were fast and furious and made no sense. Broken and fragmented, she caught glimpses of black puddles, chains, blood on the floor, long blonde hair, pain and fear. Paralyzed, she didn’t know what was happening.

“Rowan!” Devlin had his hands on her shoulders and was shaking her. “Come back to me lass, come back!” And just like that, she was back to herself – and back to him.

“Oh no. Oh my God! Devlin!” She completely unraveled. The images made no sense to her as they came, but now they did. Rowan had perfect clarity… and so did Devlin. Playing them all over again and again in her head, he caught each image that flashed by. She looked up at him with big, scared, angry eyes.

Lorcan has Brinley.

Trying to pull up her pants and get on shoes, Rowan was quiet and fierce. She dared not speak for fear of crying from her anger and she did not want to lose her grip. Lorcan had gone too far. If Brinley was trapped in that God forsaken place, Ro prayed he hadn’t hurt her.

Anger pulsed through her veins. Hatred poured from her eyes. Rowan was in danger of slipping into a zone inside herself, the place she went in her head when things were out of her control. There’s no reaching her once she’s there, it was her hiding place and hers alone. Secured by one hell of a fortress, her inner walls were impenetrable. Ro thought that soldiers might have the same type of place in their heads when they fight. It’s where you go to put yourself in lockdown mode, and become another being for a little while... to do what needs done… with or without a conscience. Rowan was not a natural born killer, hell, the woman would break for squirrels on the street, but she was not that Rowan now.

Grabbing the
Beagalltach
and following Devlin out of the house, Rowan was seeing red. She’d never felt rage like this… never. Knowing she was going back into that hell pit, Rowan thought she would be merciful and show tenderness and understanding to the shadows that had turned into crazy demons. After all, it wasn’t their fault, right? Wrong. Hearing their hisses of pleasure and joy outside, sending her this message, they were just as cruel and unforgivable as their creator. That flipped a different kind of switch in Rowan: a dead zone switch.

Busting out the door, coldness slapped her cheeks and triggered more anger. With a scream, Rowan walked straight up to the first demon she saw and sliced through its gut – asshole to appetite. The thing shrieked while it turned to ashes and dust. Not missing a step, her cry fueled by fury, Ro swung again at another and cut it clean in two. Ashes fell to the ground.

Her body felt stronger, eager for more, adrenaline pulsing through her veins and magic was blooming wildly in her. The powerful blade sung out in merriment with every drop of death it tasted, and Ro’s body sang to the same tune. Other creatures around her shrieked and keened. All of them disappearing before she had a chance to silence them. Heart pumping in her ears, eyes burning bright, her body was alive and ready to fight. There was no backing down now.

Rowan just had her first taste of bloodlust – and it tasted so fucking good.

Devlin had his own sword out, but slicing at the shadows did nothing but make them shriek and jump. His blade was manmade, it was not a Sidhe weapon or magical or blessed. The demons were easier to cut, but harder to catch. ‘Twas infuriating for the warrior. He needed a better sword than this if he was going to fight these heinous creatures.

They wasted no time getting to Adam’s house. Devlin yelled out for him upon entering the back door and Adam met him halfway into the living room in full alarm from the sudden intrusion. Rowan was still in deadlock, she didn’t utter a fucking word.

“Lorcan has taken Brinley,” Devlin yelled.

Stone. Adam’s face turned to cold, hard, unbreakable stone. The Sidhe who thought he could outsmart Lorcan was just bested by him instead. He should have known Lorcan would use bait to bring Rowan to him. And he should have known that bait would be something precious and irreplaceable to her. Something worth going to that hell pit for. It would have never been Devlin because he had too much magic and could fight back, be protected. Lorcan chose the one thing they’d left vulnerable.

Growling in anger and disgust at himself for his blindness and carelessness, Adam spared no time. He disappeared for a few heartbeats and returned with an arsenal of Fae weaponry. He kept a cache of these weapons in his home in Ireland. Prepared Sidhe warrior was Adam.

They were going to kill that whoreson Lorcan, and shred anything that got in their way of saving the others trapped in there. The time has come.

The idea that Brinley was at Lorcan’s mercy made it hard for Adam to breathe… for it was a known fact, Lorcan had no mercy. They were going to destroy the Shadow Lord, free the souls, and save his woman – because make no mistake, Brinley was
his
.

Running Sidhe-style, all three of them made it to the circle in the woods in record time. Rowan was still livid and riding her battle-high, she didn’t even notice the speed with which she could now take off in. All three were blurs in the woods, kicking up wind and leaves in their wake.

Dressed in head to toe Fae armor, the men looked like legends. Thick leather pants, protective shirts made of something that looked more like dragon scales than chainmail. They were ready for blood - blades on wrists, daggers and other stealthy Fae blades strategically hidden and reachable on their bodies. Each warrior brandished a sword from the Faelands. They were the merciless kind of weapon that will do some major damage to whomever or whatever is at the other end of it.

Rowan was dressed in all black armor herself. It was Ava’s, although it fit Ro perfect – it was part of its ability – to fit the warrior worthy of wearing it. Rowan just hoped it worked as well as it fit. Light and flexible, it felt good on her, and boosted her meter up to maximum killing power. Rowan was, by nature, a gentle creature, but even the sweetest of animals can turn deadly and dangerous when threatened. The knowledge of Lorcan having Brinley had turned Rowan into an angry, murderous creature that will do anything to eliminate her threat. Rowan didn’t have many people she loved in her life, but those she did have, Ro would take a bullet for, die for, and kill for.

Loyalty – it has a funny way of turning you into a mass murderer if needed.

Rowan had her gifted
Beagalltach
strapped to the middle of her back. It was concealed but within easy reach. Her spine was now backed by well-crafted cold iron. She also had a dirk on her ankle, two more daggers on her hips and smaller ones strapped to her wrists. She was all sharp edges and razor blade promises. She felt good. Rowan may not have been armed to the teeth like the men, but she had all she needed.

They quickly discussed a method of attack while strapping up – the two warriors were going to flank her, clear the path for her to release the prisoners in cages and get Brinley from wherever she was. They hoped that some of the spirits would help lead the way to wherever Brinley was being held. Lorcan’s hell pit was dark and tunneled – finding Brinley may take more time than they had if they didn’t have inside help. Releasing as many as they can manage and getting them to safety before battling Lorcan would be best. But you know what they say about best laid plans… Rowan wasn’t going to go there now. No room for doubt in her mind. No room for darker thoughts. She was going to free them. Save her friend. And kill that son-of-a-bitch. There was no other option.

Reaching the sacred circle in the woods by Devlin’s house, the three clasped hands and were gone. Landing on their feet and knowing Rowan wouldn’t, the two men had her braced and steady upon reaching their destination. Head spinning and stomach turning, Rowan took a few steady breathes before she was able to move. She felt drunk and nauseous but didn’t throw up.

No time for patting herself on the back for her improvement, she ran like the wind away from the Scarlet Oak and towards Adam’s house. They had to take his car in case they needed to transport an injured person to the hospital… injured being Brinley. She may need serious medical help if she had burn marks or other wounds like Rowan had received. Brinley had no powers of her own to help her heal whatever wounds were inflicted on her. That thought had Adam’s stomach feeling like a bag of rocks.