“I thought maybe we should meet, personally.”
He rests his hands on the table and I spot the tattoos and rings on his fingers. “I figured you’d be back. Your guardian doesn’t know you’re here, does he.”
“By now? Probably.” Whatever alarms and bells Dylan has in the little bat cave of his mind have probably been triggered. “Which only means we should probably get to it.”
He smiles, and the simple act puts me at an unnatural ease. Another gift, I assume. “The Morrigan took my guardians. They’re either dead or trapped in her realm, and we can’t open the gate. It was damaged in Bunny’s escape.”
His eyes narrow for a moment. “You want in the Otherside. What about your traitor?”
“I’ll be forced to deal with him, too.”
“And you think you can just storm the Morrigan’s castle? Get inside and do what you want?”
I shrug. “I don’t have another choice.”
“There are always choices, dear. Always. Suicide by the Goddess of War is one of them.” He looks me up and down and I fight squirming under the gaze of his yellow eyes. “I’ve witnessed you fight in the ring. I saw your true powers emerge, but that was when you were complete—whole with the Morrigan.” I hold his gaze and realization clicks. “That’s what you really want, isn’t it? Your full strength.”
“I’ll do whatever it takes to get my guardians back and stop the sickness.” I swallow. “I know the risks.”
He chuckles, flashing those teeth. “I seriously doubt it. But I’m not here to judge. I’m here to open pathways. I can give you what you want.”
“What’s t
he cost?”
The smile drops from his face and his expression is blank, like a slate. “There is no cost, because I’m interested in the results. Although, I can only offer you a limited return. One for the way there and three back for your Guardians. If you’re truly up to the task of taking on the Morrigan, you can find a way back on your own.”
He wants to trap me there, force the altercation between me and the Morrigan. He offers his hand across the table, waiting for me to take it or not.
I take a deep breath, knowing that if I accept, it’s an oath I can’t get out of. That’s the price—losing control. I wipe my hand on my pants and hold it over the table, curling my fingers into a fist at the last moment. “I accept your challenge, but I’m going to need one more thing.”
“What’s that?”
“I need two entry tickets to the Otherside.”
His hand wavers in the air. “They won’t be able to return—not on their own.”
I unclench my fist and slip my hand into his, shaking before he can ask any other questions. “Good.”
Chapter 13
Bunny
I stare at the canvas, still wet with paint. The oil shines, malleable but firm, and I thought for a moment that the movement was just that—the oil—but when I peered closer, nose nearly touching, I know what I saw was real. Someone looking at me from the other side.
Not the Otherside. That’s where I am, locked in my studio tower. But the painting is of the other realm, my former home and studio in the attic of The Nead. It’s the opposite of here—the flip of the mirror. It’s the way back and the way in, and gods almighty I think Morgan may have just been on the other side.
My fingers coil around the paintbrush, pushing back the desire to reach through and grab her.
Not that I could. Not yet at least, and what are the chances of it being so easy? The magic hasn’t set, not from my side anyway. And the painting is one of many—hundreds—left to confuse Dylan or anyone else looking for entrance. I need to get back to The Nead. I must. If I don’t bring the Queen what she wants, her wrath will rain upon the house. Not just on me—no—she never goes after her opponent directly. No, the Morrigan is methodical about her pain.
I cannot bear another night of screams from the dungeon.
What I have done to my brothers is unredeemable. Even if Morgan ever chose to look past my actions or if I can assist in her stopping the Queen, the Guardians, my brothers? They will torture me in the ancient ways.
I deserve nothing less.
Stepping back from the canvas, I exhale an exhausted shudder of relief. It’s complete. I’ve worked day after day, night after frigid night, until my eyes blurred and my fingers cramped.