Deception (Facets of Feyrie Book 3), page 17
“Yes. Phobe saw it too. While I was getting the shit knocked out of me, she was laughing and eating burgers with them. Plotting the entire thing, while professing that she was doing it all for me.” He pauses, and the muscles on his jaw stand out, he still hasn’t turned to look at me, but I can read his body language just fine. “This all started because she thought you were taking me away from her and her rightful place in life. They used that to get to her, and she ate it up like a starving dog.” Michael says it with such venom that I’m surprised he’s still wearing his human face. Ruthie achieved the opposite of her goals, he hates her now, and because she hurt him so badly, it’s the kind of hate you don’t get over.
Sensing he’s done talking for the moment, I get into the car next to Jameson, who’s out like a light. Despite how pissed off I am with him, I give him a good once over. He looks rough like run over by a truck rough, his face is one big swollen bruise on top of another. Carefully, I tilt his head around to see better. I’m pretty sure his jaw is broken in multiple places, given the odd way it’s hanging. Good chance he’s missing some of his teeth too. That’s not counting the ring of scabs on his neck, where a rope or collar was placed. Jameson’s Magiks aren’t strong, but he’s a good healer and can heal himself with ease… whatever was around his neck stopped him from doing that. A problem we’ll address later. Jameson needs to be healed first, and the Sidhe is the only place where that’s going to happen.
“Iza… I’m sorry.” Michael says, his voice thick with unshed tears. “I had no idea about Ruthie. I feel like this is my fault.”
“Nothing about this is your fault. This is her fault, so stop blaming yourself,” I reassure him. “As far as Nika goes, that’s not even her fault. It’s all to be blamed on the motherfucker doing it.” I wish her being the one possessed/used, whatever phrase you want to label it with, surprised me more than it does. Since I met her something hasn’t felt right, now it all makes sense. The sad thing is I doubt she even knows it’s her.
It explains the fight with Rido, too. Two dragons fighting would cause the destruction I saw. I know what I’ll be doing with Nika—for her sake and everyone else’s. I doubt she’s even aware of what’s going on, but like some mateless female dragons, she’s gone off the deep-end. Her erratic behavior over Jameson was the first sign of many, but because of how she’s connected to my mom, I chose to ignore a good chunk of it. Mostly because I was under the false belief that it wasn’t hurting anyone.
As cold-blooded as it sounds, Nika isn’t needed anymore. Arista can heal Jameson and Michael.
My eyes fall again on Jameson and the dried blood on his jaw. Which makes me think of Ruthie. I imagine she’s going to be sporting a nice bruise where I popped her one, too. A sharp pain shoots through my chest, so I rub it and, in the process, have to admit that it feels like my heart is breaking a little. I wish I could deny it, pretend like it didn’t happen—make it go away. The desire for a way to go back in time and live like it used to be—with movie night and shopping for shoes—is incredibly strong. Why couldn’t she stay the girl with pink hair who looked at me like I was the best person in the world?
Where did it go wrong?
Almost like he read my mind, Michael says, “He’s been working on her awhile, Iza. She started going off into town by herself… we were fighting because I thought it was another guy she was going to see. And it was, but now I can see that it wasn’t a boyfriend.” He sighs. “They talked about their meetings right in front of me.”
“Was she spelled at all?” If they Magiked her, I can forgive that and not have to do what the Magiks are demanding I do. What the Feyrie will demand I do.
“No, he played to her insecurities. Honestly, if not him, I think someone else would’ve gotten her going eventually. I genuinely think that this is always how this was meant to turn out, Iza. People like Ruthie are never happy with what they have. They always want more and more and are never satisfied, with anything.” He swallows noisily and then continues, “I saw it early on, but I love—loved her too much to accept it.” Michael sounds so old, and part of me is proud of him, but another part wishes he wasn’t hurting either. That same part wishes this was all a bad dream that I’ll wake up from any minute.
“We’ll get to the truth of it when we get to the Sidhe.” That’s if I can keep myself from strangling her before then. “Call ahead and have everyone brought back from the other place and then send the children someplace safe.” Since I know who the culprits are now.
The worry for Phobe that I keep trying to bury boils to the surface. If something happens to him, I’m not sure how I’ll react. I’m not sure at all. Adriem starts the long drive ahead of us, and I lean my head against the window. Now that I have some facts I can start putting pieces together, which gives me something more to do than worrying about Phobe and mourning the loss of Ruthie.
I za
THE MINUTE we get close to the Sidhe my skin prickles and energy floods my system. Closing my eyes, I bask in the wonder of this whole feeling of coming home. After a long journey, this takes some of the weight off my soul and the tear is rolling down my face is left to fall. I refuse to allow myself to feel any shame for this, especially with everything else going on. The Web, which was getting dimmer every day, flares to life and I gasp from the rush of it.
There is one that is noticeably absent. I can’t feel Phobe anymore. Not even here, in the seat of my power. The dark line that runs through the center of the Web is dim and silent. My heart rate jumps, and I bite my lip to keep from having a little bit of a breakdown. The warmth running down my chin pulls me out of that Web and back to the car. With my sleeve, I wipe away the blood and turn to look at Jameson, who is stirring beside of me.
He’s been making weird moaning noises for a while now, and I was just tuning them out. Now he’s thrashing around in what I’m guessing is a nightmare. I feel a little twinge of pity for him, those types of memories never go away. They fade into the back of your mind waiting for you to be weak enough to allow them to come out and rob you of sleep.
These dreams of his are the result of his stupidity. He’ll have to deal with it like I have to deal with mine. In a way, this is Jameson growing up.
Turning away from him, I watch the Sidhe come into view. Standing tall against the snowdrifts around it, the familiar white paint and big windows draw me out of the car while it’s still moving. Running, I head right towards the wall that opens and welcomes me in. To me, it’s like running into the arms of my mother. Taken to the very heart of the Sidhe, the warm touch of the Magiks flow over me and embrace me in safety and comfort. For this brief time, I can let my guard down and let my battered soul breathe.
“I need your help. This ring… it eases the sickness—but not enough. Because I’m as weak as a baby, they took him from me.” Gritting my teeth, I continue, because the Sidhe is listening, “They took him, and I have to get him back, he’s my soul... he is the reason life has color again.” Speaking into the blackness, I’m floating in I wait for the Sidhe to respond. The sad notes whisper through my mind and encourage me to say the rest of it, “Ruthie… she betrayed me to them. She got her kind killed. She tried to have me killed. All because of someone’s dick!” The word echoes back at me, and through the snotty tears, I laugh. Hoarse and rough, it sounds like someone much older than me.
The music of the Sidhe flows through me, and I receive the answers I need. All around me roots raise, all different sizes. The Sidhe is offering me a solution, and I’m taking it. Closing my eyes, I exhale long and deep, feeling the pulse of power inside of me once again, the comfort of my home. The tip of each root is piercing my skin stings, but I’ve suffered much worse, and the result is more than worth it. Each pain means that a small piece of the Sidhe enters me. In essence, the Sidhe is turning me into a physical part of it, a limb that can be away from the body. Changing me into something unknown, and this is completely acceptable because I need to be stronger for what’s coming.
As I am gently lowered to the ground, the Sidhe twists and shapes around me depositing me in the front room. Everyone jumps to their feet when I open my eyes and look at them. I can understand their confusion. I came through the ceiling. Any other time I’d have laughed, but not today—there are no laughs in me right now.
Looking around at those gathered, taking note that someone listened and sent the children away as I requested, I think on what I need to say. I’m glad the kids are gone because Knox would be here and yelling at me for leaving. I imagine he would also be confused about what happened and why I have to do what’s next or delay what I have to do next as long as possible. My heart is at war with my mind on this one.
Feyrie law dictates that betrayal of Feyrie kind is a death sentence. One that I have to carry out on the perpetrator, in the absence of the King. Who at this point hasn’t been crowned and was the dumbass who went and got himself captured.
My eyes seek out Ruthie, who is sitting on the loveseat, sandwiched in between Auryn and Licar. She looks squished and uncomfortable and looking at her makes me a little sick to my stomach. Neither of them looks at her directly at her either, but both of their eyes are glowing red. A quick look around the room shows that no one is looking directly at her. Everyone knows now, I’m sure. Gossip is alive and well in the Sidhe.
Jameson is gone, I assume with Arista and the other healers getting worked on. People have heard about Nika too since she’s standing with Adriem, who is in a position to stop her from leaving the room. She looks lost to the world, and pale-faced. Michael is standing slightly behind her, watching me. He’s cleaned up, and his poor face has barely any bruising left on it. The look on it now is all serious business, and I can tell he’s doing everything he can not look towards Ruthie. She keeps looking at him with a frown between her eyes.
She still hasn’t realized the depth of what she did, the idiot girl.
Giving up on having the right words to say I turn to Nika, and say, “Nika. Are you aware that someone has been hijacking your body and using you to kill people?” When no surprise enters her eyes, I see that she suspected something was off, at least. That annoys the fuck out of me. “You should’ve come to me. You know that, right?” There is not one single ounce of guilt in my next words, “For now, you’re going to be imprisoned. I can’t trust you—understand?” She nods and hangs her head.
“Jameson is safe, and that’s all that matters,” she says then falls into silence. No one says anything in her defense, because there’s not much to say—it happened. Until it can be stopped she needs to be somewhere she can’t hurt people.
Roots spring forth from the floor and wrap around her, dragging her down to a place that the Magiks won’t reach her. Not even a wannabe god can find her there. She will be comfortable and taken care of while she sleeps. At least, she had the dignity to accept her current fate and my opinion of her climbs a little. Hopefully, I can figure out how to save her—if not I’ll kill her or leave her sleeping. There are no other options available.
Now, I turn to Ruthie. “Give me every single fucking detail, and if you leave even one small, itty-bitty thing out, I will beat you within an inch of your life. Do you understand me?” Ruthie opens her mouth to argue then closes it. I’m dead serious. I might consider Ruthie a child in some ways—a foolish belief on my part, but her actions were those of an adult. She got people killed, and Phobe captured. There’s no leniency left in me for her, just this stabbing pain in my heart.
“You were supposed to be the one they took!” she yells and then crosses her arms, face mutinous.
“And?” I prompt, taking a single step towards her.
“They planned on killing you because somehow killing you empowers the Light side and they’ll be able to more easily take over the earth and others.” She was willing to betray me, knowing they’d kill me. Yeah, she made adult decisions, so from this moment forward I’ll treat her like one.
“You’re okay with that?” I ask. She shrugs and continues to give me dirty looks.
“The Guide’s power is only temporary. Once the battery in his necklace dies, he’s afraid you’ll beat him. He’s coming after you because he knows how big a pussy you are now.” She’s going for smug, but the shaking of her hands shows how afraid she is.
“Where was this bravery you’re pretending to have when you were asked to betray your people?”
“I wasn’t betraying them. I was getting rid of you.” She's so obstinate about it that she hasn’t truly looked at what she did. Getting rid of me is betraying them.
“Why?” I have to know. There’s got to be more to it than that. She gets Michael and an old house that won’t listen to her. She starts to cry, and for the first time since this awful day started, I think they’re real tears.
“You’re going to take it all away to fight some stupid war. Our home, our men—all of it, for your shitty war. He told me if I helped them that they’d leave everyone alone that I asked them to, and we’d get to live out our lives in the Sidhe… that I’d get to be in charge.” What a petulant, selfish way to repay the kindnesses of the people here, to believe something so flawed, and untrue, for purely selfish reasons. Nothing in life is ever that easy, nothing comes without strings—especially when dealing with people who want to kill you.
“You idiot, without me the Sidhe will kick your ass right out. If it didn’t murder you outright for betraying everyone. It thinks and feels for itself, I have nothing to do with it, and no one can control what it does!” I pat my healed hair to calm it down. It wants to wrap around her neck and squeeze. I can feel its murderous intent. “The war is coming, whether any of us want it to or not, and we all have to fight. Not just the men. How they convinced you of that idiocy, I’ll never know.”
The more I think about it the madder I get. She fell for the manipulation tactics of complete morons. “They won’t stick with any deals or promises, they’ll kill anyone who represents any kind of threat, and that’s every single Feyrie here—including you! Believing that nonsense shows how ignorant you are of the real world.” How stupid is she to entertain that she could be the Shepherd without any kind of ability to do so, that people would listen to her? “You let yourself be blatantly manipulated by a fucking moron. I’m ashamed to know you right now.” Roots fly out of the floor and grab her.
“She does not sleep. I want her to sit here, stared at by everyone while she thinks about all that she’s done.” I feel the music of the Sidhe and Ruthie is dragged screaming into a cage made of the same material of the Sidhe. She’s not getting out of there any time soon.
“Iza… you know the laws,” someone says from behind me. The voice eventually registers, it’s Auryn, and she doesn’t sound happy about it. Still, I say nothing to her. Ruthie’s life is forfeit now because she didn’t just betray me, she betrayed everyone. That is treason, and the sentence for that is death. Killing her is not something I’m in a massive hurry to do. Regardless of what she did, she’s still that girl I pulled out of a trunk.
One problem at a time.
“I have to get Phobe first, then we’ll worry about punishing people, okay?” No one argues, not that it would change anything if they did—I’m going to go after him no matter what they think.
“Iza.” My name spoken so softly grabs my attention as nothing else has. I turn, and Jameson is standing, pale and shaky, in the doorway. He’s sporting new scars and missing a finger, pretty sure he’s a good twenty pounds lighter too. Otherwise, he looks mostly intact. Looking at him leaves a bad taste in my mouth.
“I’m glad you’re alive, but I can’t look at you right now. Ruthie’s backstabbing bullshit and your idiocy might cost me everything, and that makes me hate both of you a little. Go do something productive that doesn’t involve your dick, before I kill you myself.” I’m not sure where the words come from, but they’re true, and I won’t apologize for them.
He looks sad and ashamed, but it doesn’t move me one bit. For once in my life, I’m laying blame where it’s due. After staring at me, his brown eyes flicking over my face with a defeated look on his own, he turns and limps out of the room. There is nothing left in me to spend on sympathy for stupidity. Not one single fucking drop.
“What are you going to do?” Auryn asks.
“Kill things until someone decides to give me the information that I want.” Turning on my heel, I head towards my room. I need clean clothes for this and weapons, lots of weapons. Already I feel ten times better than I did when I got here. Separation sickness won’t be an issue again. The Sidhe made sure of that.
Absently I rub my chest, right over my heart. Normally, I feel fullness there, because it’s where I feel the bond between Phobe and I. The lack of it is disturbing and giving me anxiety so bad that I might need to find a paper bag to do that weird breathing into. Killing things will work, though. Lots of stuff. I want to make bloody snow angels in their guts. Growling under my breath I grab the leathers out of my closet and start stripping.
On TV a lot of people wear them to look sexy, I’m wearing them because they stand up against claws and teeth. A lot better than cotton and jean. These are thick and hardy and flexible enough to not restrict me from moving the way I need to move. After zipping them, and filling the various pockets and loops with knives, guns and other odds and ends, I put on a plain black t-shirt and a jacket.
The boots were a present from Phobe. I have no idea where he got them, but they showed up on my bed one day. A perfect fit and designed for high movement and durability. They’re steel toed too and heavy enough that if I kick you in the face with these on—it’ll hurt. Giving a mean smile to my reflection in the mirror, I shove my phone and wallet into my inner pocket, zip the coat and head out the door.
There are a million places to go and not a lot of time to do it, if I start with the vampires I think I’ll get more answers. They seem to be neck deep in the fucking mess, maybe—
