Shit.
“Who are you?”
“Thea MacLennan.”
Holy double shit.
Rose groaned. “I know”—she panted—“I know who you are. God, what are you doing here?”
“My mate and I have been trying to track down a girl I met in Prague seven months ago. We lost her in Munich, but we got word the Blackwoods were hunting her too. They were easier to follow. When we followed them to the west coast of Galway, we had no clue what they were doing here.” She rested her head against the concrete wall and squeezed her eyes closed. “We were trying to stay low key, which is hard to do in tiny coastal villages and even harder when your mate looks like mine. He’s going to be so pissed.”
“He’s a pack alpha, right?”
Thea nodded. “Conall. Alpha of Pack MacLennan.”
“He turned you. Saved your life when you got a dagger in the heart?”
Thea’s nostrils flared. “How do you know this about me when I don’t know a thing about you?”
“Niamh, the girl you were looking for, she knows you’re searching. She’s not happy about it. Wants you to live your life in peace now that you can.” Talking was distracting her from the fire in her arms. “You should, Thea. As soon as you’re out of here, go back to Scotland. This shit is over for you. It’s not your fight anymore.”
“Well, I don’t see it that way. I’m trying to protect Niamh. And now you. If you want, once we’re out of here, I can bite you. It’s a risk, but it means you don’t have to worry about causing an apocalypse or … have to live forever.”
Rose chuckled unhappily. “I hate to break it to you, gorgeous, but I like the idea of forever. Even if I didn’t, that’s not how it works. You survived the werewolf bite because your mate bit you. Only a mate can turn a fae into a vamp or a werewolf.”
“What? How do you know that?”
“Because my mate was once trapped on Faerie before Aine turned him into a fae right before he escaped.”
“Your mate …” Thea huffed. “You’re not talking about Fionn Mór?”
“You know him?” Fionn hadn’t mentioned that.
“No, I have a journal. By Jerrik Mortensen, a vamp who spent time on Faerie. He mentions Fionn. I just assumed he was dead because no one’s heard of him since.”
The thought of him made her whimper. “No,” she choked out. “He’s very much alive.”
“Shit,” Thea whispered. “I can’t believe this. The whole time I thought … I thought I could help her.”
“Niamh?”
“Yeah.”
“No, you can’t. The best thing you could do to help her is get out of here, take your mate, and go back to Scotland.” Rose gritted her teeth as renewed flames ate at her arms. “Just … keep your pack safe, yeah. That’s your job now.”
“I hate to break it to you, Rose, but I’m not going anywhere until I know you’re safe from these wackos.”
“I am. I’ll never give them what they want.”
“And what is that exactly?”
“An iron dagger. They th—” Rose cut off as it occurred to her the Blackwoods might be listening in. She didn’t want them to know they might not need An Breitheamh to open the gate. “They need it to open the gate.”
Silence fell between them. Rose did her best to ignore the excruciating agony of the iron.
“I went out to the store to get tea for our room,” Thea said. “I left Conall sleeping in the little B&B we were staying in. We thought the Blackwoods were in the village two miles north. I had no idea they’d clocked us. Or that they’d take me.” Her voice lowered, pain evident in her tone. “Conall will be going crazy right now.”
Yeah, Rose groaned. She was sure her mate would be more than a little unhappy when he woke to discover Rose missing.
“Hey … hey, Rose.”
Rose’s eyes flew open. Unconsciousness was blissfully coming for her. “What?” she snapped.
“I know that iron doesn’t feel good. Believe me, do I know that, but I need you to stay with me. You’re going to get us out of here.”
Rose snorted. “By hanging tight?”
Thea ignored the bad joke. “Rose, have you ever been so scared or so angry, you emitted pure sunlight?”
“What?” Jesus Christ, she just wanted to pass out, not talk nonsense with a wounded werewolf. But somewhere in the recesses of her memories, the words started to connect with information buried in there.
Fourteen piles of ash.
“You killed Eirik.” Rose forced herself to focus. “And his vampires.”
“I did. I turned them all but one to ash. Conall had already killed one before I took out the rest. When the Blackwoods come back in here, you’re going to kill one of them by doing the same thing I did, to force the other two to let us go.”
“But how?”
“You’ll picture everyone you love being put to the death by one of the Blackwoods. You have to make it feel real. Find that anger and grief and use it to obliterate them.”
“What if it needs to be real?”
“I don’t know … but you have to at least try.”
“Okay,” Rose murmured, eyes falling closed. “Wake me up when they get here.”
“Rose. Rose, I know it hurts, but you have to stay awake.”
“Sleep is good.” Darkness crept along the edges of Rose’s mind, numbing the pain. “I choose Layton.”
“Good choice.” Thea sighed heavily. “It’ll save Conall from ripping out his heart for putting a silver bullet in me.”
“Aw, that’s nice,” Rose mumbled before she passed out.
32
Fionn had known from the moment he’d awakened to find Rose missing from his bed that she was gone.
It took him seconds to feel out the castle, discern its emptiness, and remember the Blackwoods were on the land beyond his borders.
Using magic to dress, Fionn bolted out of An Caomhnóir, shrugging on his overcoat as he hurried out the door. In his pocket was a hair tie belonging to Rose. He’d be able to use it to trace her once he was past the boundary spell.
Fionn was a blur, speeding through the forest as fast as his fae strength would allow. The almost-bare trees unwillingly saluted him with their branches as he sped out of the woods toward the stone wall that acted as the boundary marker for the spell.
Fionn halted at the sight of the extremely tall, extremely built werewolf sniffing the air around the wall. He took slow steps toward the wolf and although Fionn knew the wolf couldn’t see him, he cocked his head as if he could hear him.
As he grew closer, the identity of the wolf hit him. He knew that face with the scar that scored down the left cheek. There was a scar on his neck too.
Scars from silver.
Scars Fionn had seen on surveillance shots Bran sent him.
The werewolf was no ordinary wolf. He was Conall MacLennan of Pack MacLennan—as in the mate of once-fae-borne Thea Quinn.
What the hell.
Fionn flew at the wall, bounding over it easily, the spell trickling off his skin as he did.
Conall tensed, not even flinching at Fionn’s appearance. Instead, he scowled. “I knew there was magic here.”
Exasperated, impatient, and fueled with worry, Fionn strode toward the wolf who stood his ground defiantly. “What the fuck are you doing here? Where’s Rose?”
“Where’s Thea?” he snapped back. “I followed my nose here for her and found this instead.”
Fionn stilled, his worry escalating. “Did you encounter any Blackwoods?”
Conall grew visibly alert. “No.”
“What are you doing here, Conall?”
His icy, pale gray eyes narrowed. “How do you know me?” He stiffened with realization. “You’re fae.”
“I’m Fionn.”
“Mór?”
Fionn cursed inwardly. Did every fucker on the planet know who he was now? “Let’s skip the part where I ask how you know me and vice versa. Why are you here and where is
Thea?”
“We were following the Blackwoods. We were staying in the village ten miles north of here. When I woke this morning, Thea was gone. She should be here. Her scent is here.”
“But does it end here?”
Conall took a breath, closing his eyes for a second as the breeze picked up around them. His eyes then flashed open, fury blazing within. “They’ve used magic to throw me off.”
“Successfully?”
“A wee bit o’ magic willnae stop me from tracking my mate. Or killing the fuckers who took her.”
“Good. Because I’m coming with you. I have a feeling wherever we find Thea, we’ll find Rose.”
The wolf’s nose caught in the air again, his expression hardening. “I scent another werewolf here. The Blackwoods didnae come alone.”
Fionn considered this. “I imagine not. There’s isn’t much they’d be able to do to catch Rose unaware.”
“And who is this Rose?”