7

Although Fionn traveled light, he’d left his iPad and his other suit, which the hotel had just dry-cleaned, in his suite. Anticipation thrummed through his body as his long strides ate up the sidewalk. He threw Rose a quick glance as she hurried to keep up with him. She was staring straight ahead, expression alert, her delicate chin set with determination.

A thrill of possession eclipsed the anticipation.

Rose belonged to him now. The restless animal that was his fae told him so.

She was the final key in this long road to revenge.

Fionn turned away, feeling a flicker of unease that he attributed to the once-human man he’d been. It was a shame to kill the girl. So far, she’d impressed him with how easily the fae abilities were coming to her and how quickly she was adjusting to her new reality. The truth could derail weak minds, or send humans into histrionics that lasted an interminably long time.

Not Rose, though. She’d been skeptical, as anyone would be, but with insurmountable evidence piling up, she’d accepted the truth and moved on.

Moreover, she’d told him about the encounter with her landlord and how she’d had the good sense to grab her passport before fleeing the apartment after the man declared her a witch.

Which was why they would jump on the first flight to Barcelona as soon as he’d retrieved his things from the hotel.

“Why Barcelona??

?? Rose asked.

Fionn turned his head and looked down at her. She stared up at him with those striking light blue eyes. Most eyes had striations of several colors in them, but Rose’s only had two. The dominant color was a pale blue; slightly darker blue striations bled out from the edges of the iris. Strangely, they reminded him of Cónán, the wolf he’d raised from cub when he’d been human. When he became king, they’d called him Rí Mac Tíre. The Wolf King, because of Cónán. He’d been loyal only to Fionn, and eventually Fionn’s family. Everyone else kept a wary distance from the wolf, and for good reason.

A small splinter in his chest made itself known before Fionn adamantly ignored it. It had been years since he’d thought of Cónán and the fae captain, Lir, who had killed him.

Before Fionn had made his escape from Faerie, he’d used An Breitheamh to end Lir. Cónán had been one of the few beings in this life Rí Mac Tíre had truly loved. He deserved justice.

Rose’s question and his thoughts of An Breitheamh brought Fionn back to the moment. “There’s something I need in Barcelona,” he responded. “And then we’ll make our way to Ireland.”

Before she could question him further, Fionn’s mobile rang. The screen said it was Bran. Wanting her to trust him, she had to think he was an open book. “It’s my associate, Brannigan. He’s a … researcher, for lack of a better word. He keeps me informed on anything of importance regarding the underworld we belong to.”

She nodded, her expression thoughtful, as she watched him put the phone to his ear.

“Hello.”

“Ah, you’re not alone if I’m getting a polite hello.” Bran’s amused voiced filled his ear.

“That is correct.”

Bran chuckled. “Is it the girl? Rose? Is she with you?”

“She is.” And considering she was fae, she could probably hear every word spoken between them. “I promised her I’d help. So … do you have any word about her birth parents?”

Catching on, Bran replied with a carefulness that was probably only obvious to Fionn. “For a start, William Kelly was born Cian Cosway, and Anna Kelly was born Rhiannon O’Connor.”

The vampire stressed the name O’Connor, and Fionn stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. “As in the O’Connor Coven of Dublin?”

Rose tensed beside him.

“As in the O’Connor Coven of Dublin. Rhiannon is Rose’s aunt. Her mother was Valerie, the eldest daughter of the coven leaders and heir to the coven. I remember when Valerie and her husband, Lorcan, died. It was a big deal in the supernatural community because they did in fact die in a car crash. A pretty horrific one. Folks surmised at the time that it had to have all happened too quickly for such a powerful witch and warlock to have not escaped it.”

Fionn watched Rose’s face and saw her expression fill with sadness as she eavesdropped on their conversation. If they hadn’t been in public, Fionn would have just put the bloody phone on speaker. The fact that she could hear over the noise of the traffic told him her hearing was acute.

“They must have known,” Fionn said, studying his captive’s features. She had a slight sprinkling of freckles across the bridge of her nose, so light he hadn’t noticed them until now. A tiny sparkling blue stud pierced the right side of her small nose. With her dark hair blowing back in the gentle breeze, he saw the cuff of her right ear was also pierced in several places.

“Aye,” Bran agreed. “There’s no way of knowing how they worked out Rose is one of the children. Perhaps even as a newborn she showed signs. A coven like the O’Connors would know of the legends and—”

“And they’d know her life was in grave danger,” Fionn cut in. “They sought to protect her.”

“Not just her. The O’Connors, unlike the Blackwoods, realize how dangerous it would be to open that gate.” There was more than a hint of rebuke in Bran’s tone. Fionn ignored it. It wasn’t like he was planning on letting the fae into this world. He wanted into Faerie. Aine had worded her spell very carefully. It allowed people to cross from Earth into Faerie to stay permanently. Which meant that gate would close behind him.

“Is there more?”

“There is.” Bran sounded grim now. “If you’re planning on going to Barcelona, I wouldn’t take the airport out of Zagreb.”

Fionn marched toward the hotel with more urgency and felt Rose hurry to follow him. “Why not?”

“Because I’ve hacked into the security cameras and used face recognition tech. Not only did it alert me to several known lackeys of the Blackwood Coven walking through the airport like the guard dogs they are …”

“Lone wolves.” Fionn sneered. The Blackwoods were known for paying supes to do their dirty work.

“Yep. But they’re not alone. There are members of the Garm waiting at the airport. So I hacked into the train stations’ security cameras, and both the Blackwoods and the Garm have supes at every one of them.”

“Fuck.” Fionn grabbed Rose’s arm and led her toward a coffee shop. “Get me a car, Bran. Untraceable.”

“Got it.” Bran hung up and Fionn shoved his mobile into his coat pocket.

“What’s going on?” Rose jerked against his tight hold.

“When the spell broke, it was powerful enough to be felt by the supernatural community in Zagreb. Someone talked to the Blackwood Coven and the Garm.”

“And they are?”

Fionn’s patience was thin but he was determined to keep up this pretense of openness to secure her trust. “The Blackwoods are a North American coven, one of the most powerful in the world. They want to open the gate to Faerie.”

Rose shook her head, amazed. “It’s all true, isn’t it?”

Fuck, he thought they were past that. “The faster you accept that, the easier this will be.”

She swallowed hard and pressed her lips together before giving him a tight nod.

“The Garm is a group raised by an ancient vampire named Eirik. He was killed six months ago … by one of the few fae left on this world. He hated the fae, even though they were responsible for creating what he’d become. Perhaps that’s why, in fact. Like me, he knew the fae saw humans as mere playthings. And he knew how dangerous it would be if the gate to Faerie was opened again. I can’t explain everything here, Rose. I promise I will once we’re on our way out of the country. But what I can tell you is that his group, the Garm, go on without him. Do you know much about Norse mythology?”

She shook her head. “Valkyries and stuff, right?”

He tried not to sigh impatiently as he glanced from left to right, keeping his senses alert. “The Garm was a wolf described as the guardian of Hel’s gate. Hel was a goddess who resided in the realm of the same name where portions of the dead were sent in the afterlife.”

“That’s relevant why?” she asked.

“The Garm believe themselves guardians of the gate to Faerie. They will destroy anyone who intends to open it, intentionally or unintentionally.”

“You said I’m the key … to the gate. So the Blackwoods want to kill me to open the gate and the Garm want to kill me to stop me being used to open the gate?”

Fionn nodded, ignoring that incessant niggle of uneasiness in his gut. “I want you to wait in the corner of this coffee shop. I’m going to travel to the hotel, get my things, and meet you back here. Bran is arranging a car for us. We’ll have to drive to the airport in Venice.”

“But wait.” She grabbed his arm. “Are you a key? Are you in danger?”

He faltered, taken aback by her apparent concern for him. Most people would shit themselves at the news there were powerful people hunting them. He gave her a slightly discombobulated shake of his head. “I’ll explain later.” He pulled her into the coffee shop, led her to a table in the corner, sat her forcefully down, and ignored her penetrating stare before he stalked toward the restrooms.

Once inside a stall in the men’s restroom, he focused on his hotel suite.

It took seconds to locate his belongings, along with the garment bag draped acr

oss his bed with his other suit. With a flick of his hand, he could send the garment bag to his apartment in Paris, but it was quite a bit away from Zagreb and the suit might inadvertently get ruined in all the conjuring. He’d have to take it with him.

Everything in hand, Fionn sent a quick text to Bran telling him to check him out of the suite since it was no longer safe for Fionn to do so himself. Then, in a blink of an eye, he was back in the coffee shop restroom.

Rose was still at the table where he’d left her. To his satisfaction, her expression softened with relief when she caught sight of him.

Good. She was starting to trust him.

That’s what happened when you were desperate. You trusted where you shouldn’t.

There was that inconvenient niggle again.

Rose’s gaze dropped to his garment bag and then lifted to meet eyes. “Really? You needed to grab clothing?”

He scowled. “One, it’s a $3,000 suit. Two, witches and warlocks can use personal items in spells against you.”

Rose startled in panic. “My apartment.”

Fionn waved off her concern. He’d already texted Bran to take care of it. “I have someone clearing your place as we speak.”

“You are efficient, aren’t you?”

“No time for chitchat, Rose. We need to leave. Now.”

“Are we still going to Barcelona? Why?”

“You want to know who you are? Who you really are and where you’re from? Do you want me to teach you how to use and control your abilities?”

“Yes to all the above.”

“Then I’m taking you to Ireland. But first we need to make a stop in Barcelona. Someone took something from me. Something important. And I need it back.”

His phone buzzed in his pocket and he switched the garment bag to his other arm as they strode out of the coffee shop.

It was from Bran.

Apartment is swept clean.

Another text came in.

There was a street address, along with the car model, color, and license plate.

Keys are beneath front passenger wheel.

Tags: Samantha Young True Immortality Fantasy
Source: readsnovelonline.net