“You said Cathal was killed.” Before her father could continue, he doubled over, his face contorted by agony.
Her uncle rushed to the bed to hold her father up. Sorcha stared helpless, unsure what to do or if she could do anything.
Aisling came up beside her. “You might want to think of leaving now.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” she snapped to the Dark.
Aisling simply looked at her. “I’ve seen this before. What he’s going through is extremely painful.”
“What is it?”
“Poison,” her father rasped as he leaned back on the pillows and took in huge gulps of air. “Your friend is right. It is painful, and it’s only going to get worse from here.”
Sorcha looked him in the eye. “I don’t care.”
“I do,” he replied with a tired smile. “I don’t want your last memory of me to be one of me writhing in pain while the poison slowly works its way through my body. I got to meet you, to speak with you, and that is the best thing that could’ve happened to me.”
She didn’t want to cry anymore, but tears gathered anyway. “It’s not fair that I just learned about you and met you, only to lose you.”
“You won’t lose me. I’ll always be with you. Just as your mother is.”
A tear fell down her face. “There’s no way to fight the poison?”
“No, there isn’t,” Aisling said. “Trust me. I know.”
Sorcha noted the look that passed between Aisling and Eamon, but she didn’t comment on it. Not now, at least. She would ask Aisling about it later.
“Come,” her father beckoned.
Sorcha walked to him and took the hand he offered. There was so much she wanted to say, but she didn’t know where to even begin. So many questions rattled through her head, but she knew there wasn’t time for any of them.
The breath he drew in was ragged. “I don’t care how much Fae blood or Druid blood or mortal blood is in your veins. You’re my daughter, and you’re the only thing I’m going to miss when I go. At least I’ll get to be with your mother once more. Now, I want you to go somewhere safe until this is over. Then my brother will find you.”
She wanted to argue, but she didn’t have the heart. Sorcha leaned in and wrapped her arms around her father. He was quick to return the embrace, holding her tightly for a brief moment. When she pulled away, there were tears in his eyes, as well. It wasn’t fair that he was being taken from her. It made hate fill her heart, but she didn’t want that either. She wanted only to feel the love they had shared briefly.
As she walked from the room with Aisling by her side, all she could think about was the years she hadn’t cared if she had a father or not. Now, she knew that she had missed out on some truly amazing moments with a good man. None of it was fair. Not what had happened to keep him and her mother apart, not her mother’s and sister’s deaths, not her father’s poisoning, and not the fact that she had finally found the other side of her family, only to lose her da that same day.
“It would be easy to give in to the anger,” Aisling said as they walked down the last flight of stairs to the main floor.
Sorcha nodded. “I think I’m too filled with grief right now.”
“It’ll hit,” the Dark warned. “Don’t let it consume you. Nothing good comes from it.”
She looked at the Fae. “You sound as if you speak from experience.”
“Because I do,” Aisling said.
Sorcha opened the door, and the two of them stepped over the threshold. As soon as they did, an orb of magic landed near Sorcha’s feet.
Chapter Twenty
Years of being a Queen’s Guard as well as a Reaper had taught Cathal when to recognize the tension in the air that spelled impending battle. And he wasn’t the only one. The Fae standing guard around the estate were on high alert.
The problem was, Cathal couldn’t find anything that told him when or where the attack would happen. Yet his gut said it would. He kept his veil up and walked the property from one end to the other. Guards were strategically placed around the estate, but the majority of them were around the house.
Cathal looked at the manor, wondering where in the building Sorcha was. He didn’t need to worry about the Halfling being protected there because Aisling would have that covered. With a sigh, he turned so the house was at his back. His gaze kept scanning the horizon. Something prickled the back of his mind, but he couldn’t quite grasp what it was.
He was making another round of the perimeter of the manor when he glanced at one of the guards. Something about him didn’t sit right with Cathal, though he couldn’t put his finger on why. He got close to the guard and walked around the Fae, trying to figure out what it was that had caught his attention.
Then it hit him. He’d seen this Fae before—at Sorcha’s cottage.
Cathal teleported into the manor. The sound of a door caught his attention. He spun around in time to see Sorcha and Aisling walking out. Time slowed to a crawl when the ball of magic crashed between the women. Without a thought for his own safety, Cathal jumped to them and grabbed hold of Sorcha to pull her back into the building.
He lowered his veil and examined her. “Are you hurt? Did any of it hit you?”
“I’m fine,” she said, though her voice shook.
Cathal lifted his head to Aisling to see that her eyes were focused outside as she used the door for cover. “Who is it?”
“Anyone looking to take Sorcha’s life,” Aisling said. She then looked at Cathal. “Eamon is dying from poison. He’s made it so Sorcha is listed as his heir. When he dies, she’ll be safe.”
Cathal glanced down at Sorcha, who had her arms wrapped around him. “Until then, she’s fair game, I suppose.”
“Unfortunately,” Sorcha said with a shrug.
He wasn’t going to stand there and wait for the bastards to find Sorcha. “I’m going out there.”
“The hell you are,” Sorcha said.
Cathal smiled as he looked down at her. “I’ll be veiled. They’ll never see me coming.”
“Us,” Aisling corrected. “Don’t leave me out of some ass-kicking.”
He nodded to her before returning his gaze to Sorcha. “Remain here. They’ll never get to the house.”
“I don’t like this,” Sorcha said.
Cathal pulled her against him and kissed her. “This is what Aisling and I do. You don’t need to worry about us.”
“That’s right,” Aisling said as she cracked her knuckles. “Come on, big guy. You can kiss her later. It’s time for battle.”
Cathal took one last look at Sorcha and pulled back from her arms before he and Aisling veiled themselves and rushed out the door. They made quick work of the men attacking the estate. If the guards realized what was going on, they gave no indication of it.
He kept looking for the guard who had been at Sorcha’s. Because if there was one of them in disguise, there would be others. Cathal found him easily enough and quickly dispatched him before he could kill another fellow guard. Some people were made for war. Cathal hadn’t realized how good he was at it until he became a Reaper. It wasn’t that he enjoyed taking someone’s life. It was quite the opposite, actually.