Kiss of Vengeance (True Immortality 2)

Truthfully, though, Rose was in no position to trust anyone implicitly. Not even Fionn Mór.

It was decided. She’d keep the dream walking to herself. At least for a little while.

Fionn found a carriage that had only a few people in it. He sat near the back, conjured the headphones, and expanded their use so no one would hear his conversation with Bran, including a sleeping Rose if she awoke and came looking for him.

She’d appeared troubled even in sleep, a frown pinching the skin between her brows, her lips pursed tightly.

There was nothing Fionn could do for her. Unfortunately, she’d have to work through the warlock’s death alone. All he could do was provide reassurance that it was a kill-or-be-killed situation.

However, even that didn’t help if you had a soul.

Why the fuck do you care? he snarled at himself. He seemed to keep forgetting a pivotal fact where Rose was concerned. She’d be dead by the end of the week. Her feelings would no longer matter.

Rage churned in his gut as her face flashed through his mind. His whole being rebelled at the idea of killing her. It would seem, after all this time, after damning himself for what he’d become, Fionn still had enough humanity within him to regret hurting an innocent.

For centuries, he’d told himself that the fae were too dangerous to ever be considered innocent. Take himself, for example. He hadn’t been a perfect human but for his time, he’d been a fair one. A just king. A good man.

That man died the moment he made the bargain with Aine.

All hope of resurrecting him faded when he became fae.

Yet watching Rose learn to use her fae powers was more entertaining than he’d anticipated. Fionn sighed, running a hand through his hair. She had a way of making him see what he was through fresh eyes. What he could be.

Well, until she killed the warlock.

He wondered how she’d feel about her abilities when she woke up. If she’d still want to train with him.

“Fuck,” Fionn grizzled, pulling out his phone. He had too many thoughts and feelings about this woman. Sacrificial lamb, he reminded himself as he hit the button to call Brannigan.

He picked up on the second ring. “I know Rose’s life is in danger, but you are aware that I sleep during the day? Because you’ve called me all day.”

“It’s nighttime now.”

“Not my point. I should be wide a-fucking-wake right now, but all I want is a nap.”

Fionn tried and failed to bite back an impatient growl.

“Fuck, you sound like an animal when you do that. You sure you’re not part wolf or vampire?”

“Bran, if you don’t shut up, I will rip your heart out when I see you. Capisce?” The word was out of his mouth before he could stop it.

He rolled his eyes.

That bloody woman was infecting him.

“Capisce? Are we now—”

“Bran,” Fionn warned.

“Right, right. I take it you’re calling for an update.”

“I am. And you can be frank. No one is listening in, not even Rose.”

“Where is she?”

“Asleep in another carriage.” He sighed. “She killed a warlock today.”

“Ah. Troubled, is she? The first kill is the worst.”

“Aye, well, she’s strong, she’ll get through it. Any news on the jacket?”

“It’s destroyed,” Bran relayed.

Relief moved through Fionn. Not that he was afraid of taking on any more hunters. He just didn’t want Rose to have to deal with it. Barcelona would prove challenging enough without more O’Connor hunters on their tails.

“You’re not out of the woods yet. My informant tells me they’d already sent more hunters after you before we destroyed the jacket. They don’t know what train you got on, but they know what direction you’re taking. If they hear about An Breitheamh, then it’s safe to say they’ll be able to deduce you’re on your way to Barcelona. They’ll assume you want it to stop the Blackwoods from completing the gate ritual.”

Just what they needed. Fionn sighed. “We’ll deal with that if it happens. What about Rose’s parents?”

“They’ve booked tickets to Zagreb. They leave in a few hours. Look, I’ve been thinking, your phone is untraceable and their coven still doesn’t know where they are, so as far as I’m concerned, it’s safe for Rose to call them and tell them to stay put.”

The last thing Fionn wanted was Rose getting sentimental with her parents. He needed her focused on him, staying with him, not hearing her parents’ voices and longing to be with them.

“It would put her at ease.”

Remembering the tight expression on her face even as she slept, Fionn cursed under his breath. It would ease her worries to know her parents were okay. “Fine, I’ll let her call them.”

There was a moment of silence between them and then, “You like her.”

Fionn scowled. “What?”

Disbelief rang clear in Bran’s voice. “You haven’t complained about her once and you’re doing her favors I thought I’d have to talk you into. You like the little fae. I mean, it’s not surprising, I’ve seen her picture. She’s definitely got that extra something.”

“Bran,” Fionn warned, sweat dampening his palms.

“And she’s survived two attacks, even taking out a warlock, so she’s an impressively fast learner, yes?”

“Bran …”

“Maybe it’s time to reconsider—”

“I’ll kill you, Bran,” Fionn threatened, voice devoid of emotion. “If you utter one more word about changing my mind regarding Rose and the gate, I will end your bloodsucking existence. Are we clear?”

Considering he’d never seriously threatened to kill his friend before, Fionn was guessing they were clear when Bran replied coldly, “Oh, we’re clear.”

Fuck.

“Do you think this is easy for me?” he hissed, the fae audible in his voice. “I have no other choice. You know that.”

“You have a choice, Fionn.”

“I don’t, friend,” he offered the word in apology. “I am nothing if I am not my revenge.”

In answer, he heard fast typing down the end of the line.

“What are you doing?” he finally asked.

“Checking for the nearest underground fights.”

“I don’t have time for that.” Although, it might do him some good. Underground fights between supernaturals had existed for centuries. It was a place for werewolves and vampires to unleash the aggression they tried to hide from humans. Now and then, a witch or warlock would fight, but they weren’t allowed to use magic, so it was considered a death sentence for them.

At the fights, Fionn pretended to be a vampire. It explained his long life to those who were old enough to remember his face at other fights.

Only one being had ever questioned what Fionn was in the last three centuries, and that was an old werewolf acquaintance with secrets of his own. Although he wasn’t sure what Fionn was, he knew Fionn was no vampire. He never spoke of his suspicions to anyone. He wouldn’t. The lone wolf was that in the truest sense of the word.

A fight might work out Fionn’s agitation, but he was on a tight schedule.

“Well, in case you change your mind, a three-night fight is being held in Orléans. The last night is the day after the auction.”

“Rose and I will take a flight to Ireland once we retrieve An Breitheamh.”

“That’s not a given, Fionn. If anyone realizes you stole it back, the first thing they’ll do is watch Barcelona Airport. If the Blackwoods find out, they’ll watch Shannon Airport too.”

“Then we’ll fly to Dublin and drive to Galway.”

“Fionn—”

“No one will stop this. No one. Not once I have both Rose and An Breitheamh.”

“Aye, you’ve made that clear.” Bran heaved a sigh. “Oh, and I’m still working on finding out if Niamh Farren is related to you. My genealogist is on it but there’s a huge possibility w

e won’t come to a definite conclusion on this. I’ve traced her and her brother to their birth certificates. He’s two years older. They were born in County Kerry.

“From what I can tell, they were raised by their single mam until Niamh was seven. There was no one else to take them, so they were put in the foster system. After their foster parents died when Niamh was thirteen, the siblings fell off the map. I’d wager that’s when they started running. My genealogist and I can work backward using their mam’s info, but it’s still a long shot.”