“I honestly can’t say.”
“I’m angry at both of them, but I don’t want them to die.”
Rordan kissed the top of her head, unsure how to respond.
“Your silence makes me worry that it’s a possibility.”
He squeezed his eyes closed, debating with himself whether he should tell her anything about the Others. The group was dangerous, and the Fae needed to know about them. He couldn’t tell her about the Reapers, but he could make a valid argument for sharing the information about the Fae group.
Rordan moved her to look in her eyes. “Pay close attention to what I’m about to tell you. It’s important.”
She nodded in response.
“When Usaeil was still alive, did you ever hear anything about a group called the Others?”
Fianna’s brows drew together as she considered that for a moment. “I think I heard it in passing. Oh, wait! I heard Dorcha say something about them. He seemed very impressed.”
“Too few understand who the Others actually were. They were a group of six. A Light and Dark Fae, a mie and drough Druid from this realm, as well as a pair from another realm. They combined their magic to battle the Dragon Kings.”
She jerked her head back. “You can’t be serious.”
“I am. Usaeil was the Dark Fae. The mortals on Earth were brought here by the Druids from the other realm because of the magic. They wanted it and intended to rid this planet of the Dragon Kings. It backfired on them, however, and they were defeated. Or so we thought until a few months ago.”
Unease filled Fianna’s eyes. “Why do you say that?”
“We ran into a group of Fae who displayed the same characteristics as the Others. Light and Dark, working together. Some Druids also want their own group.”
“Light and Dark Fae don’t work well together,” Fianna said. “That’s why the council isn’t coming together easily. I don’t know many Druids, but I know that mies and droughs don’t get along either.”
Rordan shot her a wry smile. “Exactly. Yet they are joining forces and combining their magic to become something altogether stronger.”
“Are you saying that’s who has my father?”
“I am.”
She got off the bed and began to pace. He could see her mind working through everything.
“I told you all of that so you’d be on the lookout,” Rordan said.
She halted and looked at him. “These Fae Others are coming to Moorehall.”
“They are.”
“I have to go. There are innocents there. My guards. The servants. The guests.”
Rordan rose from the bed and walked to her, taking her hands. “I’ll start getting everyone out that I can, but I can’t do anything if I’m worried about you. I need you to remain behind. Please. I will make sure the innocent aren’t harmed.”
She searched his face for long moments, then nodded. “I’m trusting you.”
“I won’t let you down. I promise.”
When she nodded, he pulled her against him and wrapped his arms around her. The very thought of her hurt—or worse—left him with a cold feeling inside. That’s how he knew that he had fallen in love with Fianna sometime during the night.
Chapter Sixteen
Somewhere in the wilds of Ireland…
He could feel it as surely as he could feel the rain falling upon his face. Evil was out there, a living, breathing entity that had to be stopped.
Xaneth grabbed his head with his hands as the pain within began pounding violently. The sound pierced his skull, deafening him and causing his stomach to roil viciously. He dropped to his knees onto the wet grass and pitched forward. His hands flattened against the ground, just barely stopping his face from slamming into it.
He gagged from the pain, his stomach heaving again and again, though there was nothing to expel. Finally, the retching halted, and he fell onto his side. He was soaked with sweat, and the cool breeze and rain cooled his skin as the last vestiges of the headache subsided. His eyes closed, and even though he tried not to sleep, he was pulled under.
At first, he drifted easily in the darkness while his body recuperated. Xaneth let himself relax and lowered his guard. The moment he did, the nightmare reared to life. The monster Usaeil had created in his mind returned. Xaneth came awake the instant he heard the roar. He lay there, breathing heavily as he discerned if he was still dreaming or not.
The cry of a falcon above allowed the tension to ease from his body. There had been no birds in the living nightmare. He rolled onto his back to continue watching the bird. His clothes were damp, telling him that the rain had halted some time ago. But he didn’t care. The hillside was peaceful, the bird graceful as it soared above him. For just a heartbeat, Xaneth could forget the past. Disregard the driving need to stamp out all malevolence on the realm.
A child’s shrill laughter punctured the peace. Xaneth pushed to his feet and began heading downhill, away from the child. He couldn’t shake that he needed to find someone, that it was vitally important. But the need to stamp out the wicked was too pervasive.
Xaneth turned toward the feel of the evil. And with one thought, teleported.
Chapter Seventeen
Fianna paced the cottage. She was anxious about Rordan facing her brother alone, but more than that, she couldn’t wrap her head around the news of the Others. Or the fact that her brother could very well be involved with them.
And she by extension.
She halted and closed her eyes as she searched her mind, trying to remember the conversations she’d overheard between her father and Dorcha. They spoke a lot about destiny, about their family being a part of something important. Still, no matter how hard she searched her memories, she couldn’t remember hearing anything about the Others.
Then again, her father and brother had been very careful about what they said in front of her. They never spoke freely when she was around. All that time, Fianna had believed it was her fault for losing their trust. How many times had her father said that to her? Too many to count. Now that she knew the truth, she couldn’t stop the anger that simmered like lava bubbling within a volcano before an eruption.
Her family had lied to her, brainwashed her, and made her believe the most horrible things about her mother. She’d thought for a moment that she could sort through the lies and deceptions. Then she realized that everything her father and brother had told her had been nothing but falsehoods and fabrications.
She had bowed and scraped, doing everything she could think of to be forgiven. Only to discover that she had nothing to be sorry for.
They had stripped her of who she was, while attempting to remake her into what they wanted. And they had nearly succeeded. Fianna snorted. Nearly? No, they had succeeded. If Rordan hadn’t come into her life, she would still be on that path, begging for any bits of praise from her father or inclusion by her brother. Her life, in fact, had been nothing but a lie.
She thought about looking for her mother, but her thoughts swung back to Rordan. It didn’t sit well with her that he couldn’t tell her specifics about the group he was with. If she didn’t trust him, she wouldn’t have revealed her past to him or agreed to wait while he dealt with Dorcha and the Fae Others.