My nose flared, hating how weak and scared I felt, my defenses kicking in. “Let go.”
Warwick scoffed, his tone condescending. “You sure, princess?”
“Fuck you. Let me go.” I yanked my arm from his grasp.
It was instant.
A blinding flood crashed on me, nausea spinning my head, forcing my lids shut. So many voices hissed together into shrill noise, the sensation of ghostly hands clawing at me, battering me against the rocks as they all tried to get to me.
I felt a hand grab my arm, but this time it didn’t stop their attack. I could feel thousands of spirits crowding me, taking me away from consciousness.
Then just as fast, they disappeared.
My lungs heaved for oxygen, my lashes fluttering open to see Warwick’s hand on one arm, Ash’s on the other, both men staring at me like a lab experiment.
“Interesting. My touch did nothing.” Ash tipped his head, his tongue sliding over his lip. “But I guess it makes sense.”
“What makes sense?” Warwick’s grip on me felt like energy and balance were being pumped into my veins, clearing the sickness and darkness away, stabling my legs.
“That only your touch would protect her. You are each other’s shields and swords.”
“Fucking hell, Ash,” Warwick growled. “Stop talking in riddles with your woo-woo shit. Just say it.”
“You can take each other’s pain away or at least ebb it. Share it. This,” he nodded to where Warwick touched me, “is the same sort of thing.” Ash turned his head to me. “What is happening when he lets go?”
I swallowed, knowing again where this was going. “They attack me...” I said quietly.
“The spirits?” Ash’s question wasn’t one at all. We all knew.
“Yes.” I gulped roughly again. “There are so many of them. I can hear them, feel them trying to reach me.” I shook my head. “But this has never happened to me before. I’ve been around graveyards and dead people, but I’ve never felt them like this.”
“That was what, maybe a dozen in a graveyard?” Ash snorted. “This small church has over forty thousand bones in one confined space, not counting the cemetery outside.” His voice lowered. “I can feel their energy too. Tree fairies can feel life and death in everything. I don’t think they are trying to attack you so much as they are drawn to you... moths to flames... like we all are.”
A noise came from Warwick’s throat, his stern gaze on Ash.
“Calm down, big man.” Ash huffed with amusement at his friend, turning his focus back on me. “I don’t think they mean you any harm. But so many coming at you at once can be overwhelming.”
“How do I stop it?” I sputtered.
“I don’t think you can stop it.” Ash bit down on his lip. “You have to control and dictate the way they interact with you. Show them who’s in charge.”
“In charge? Dictate?” I shook my head. “What do you mean?”
“Think of them like a classroom full of disobedient school children who need a strong teacher to get them in line. To understand their boundaries.”
“Why now? Why have I never heard or felt ghosts before?”
“Again, I don’t have an answer to that, but I’m wondering if something awoke when you two met. I mean, this all started then, right?” Ash looked between us.
It did all lead back to when Warwick and I met; things started to change after that. It was solidifying the bond that tied us together—whether or not we wanted it.
“Whatever the reason, it doesn’t change the fact they are drawn to you. You have to make sure they know you’re the boss.”
“How about I leave this place?” I motioned around with my free arm.
“You could, but I don’t think it will go away. If death is attracted to you, then you need to start learning to handle it. The Eastern Bloc is one big graveyard.” Ash cocked his brow to where Warwick touched me. “And I doubt you want to depend on him every time it does.”
Depend. Ash said the key word, hitting my mind with utter clarity and determination. Fuck no, I didn’t.
“What do I do?” I lifted my chin.
“You have to confront them. With his help at first.” He nodded to where Warwick touched me. “In intervals until they understand you are dominant. In control.”
“Him?” My eyes narrowed. “Why can’t you help me?”
“Because I can’t help you block them like he does. You two are connected.” He took one step back. “Plus, I need to go back to Budapest.”
“What?” Confusion creased my face. “Why?”
“What the fuck do you mean you’re going back to Budapest?” Warwick snarled, his fingers pinching my elbows.
“Well, the reason I brought you guys up here...” Ash paused. “Before we got distracted with the issue of the dead clamoring for her. I had an idea...” Ash rubbed his chest absently. “It might not even work. But you remember how your uncle said the nectar disappeared, and no one knows where it is or what happened to it?”
“Yes,” I said slowly, watching Ash closely, feeling prickles of nervousness.
“There is something that might...” His mossy green eyes met mine, a tiny grin hinting on his lip. “It might tell us.”
“You mean... ?” I didn’t know if terror or excitement was bubbling in my stomach.
“The fae book.” Ash dipped his head, his voice lowering as he looked around, trying to see if anyone had come in on us.
“You think it would know?” Warwick shifted on his feet, turning more toward Ash, his hand firmly on me. “It would show you?”
“It knows everything. The problem is... if it is willing to share this information. I thought it might show her.” Ash tipped his head at me. “It’s worth a shot, don’t you think?” Ash’s whispered voice rose slightly. “If people are out searching for it again, imagine if it fell into the wrong hands. If this nectar is everything they say it is, it would be as desired as the treasures of Tuatha Dé Danann. Especially for humans. People would kill for this. Start wars for it.”
Warwick jerked around, glowering at Ash, his head shaking.
I had heard about the four treasures of Tuatha Dé Danann—another name for the Otherworld—a sword, cauldron, spear, and stone. The treasures were treated like sacred items. Hardly ever talked about. Whispered in dark corners like scary ghost stories.
It was ancient fae folklore. Four treasures were made by high Druids for fae kings as gifts. Unfortunately, anything with so much power tended to turn people into monsters, breeding power, greed, and death. Druids separated the treasures and hid them from the fae. Queen Aneira later slaughtered almost all the Druids for their secret. Around the time of the fae war, it was rumored some pieces had been found and that Queen Aneira was actually killed by the current ruler, Queen Kennedy, a Druid, using the sword of Nuada, which still sparked hate. I guess many thought Aneira’s niece, “the rightful ruler,” should have been queen.
The treasures were said to have been destroyed while others thought they were hidden again, still out there to discover. Just like the nectar, the human’s equivalent to the fountain of youth. One that would destroy if fallen into the wrong hands.