Twilight Siege

22

“This would be a lot easier if I could see you,” Lochlan grumbled as we tore outside and hurried to where we had told our driver to meet us. “I don’t know how to control it yet. It should stop once I calm down.” My words came out between pants as we raced down the dark sidewalk. As we neared the car, I could make out the cries of the druids as they exited the museum. They were too late. We barreled into the car and it sped away from the curb at Lochlan’s command. After taking a few deep breaths to calm my racing heart, I examined his ravaged shoulder. “The bullet’s still in there.” “Yeah, and it’s iron. Bastards shot me with an iron bullet,” he growled with a grimace. “Would have had my shields up sooner if I’d had any idea they were magic users.” “Is there anything I can do?” Guilt, oh the guilt. Layer after layer like one of those fancy cakes from a baker. “No, there’s a first aid kit on the plane. That’ll work until we get back to Belfast.” My eyes turned toward the driver, who could hear everything we said and seemed unconcerned with neither our words nor Lochlan bleeding out on his back seat. “Will you tell him to forget, like you did with the others?” I asked softly so the man wouldn’t overhear. He gave a single nod, his hand held firmly to his shoulder to stem the bleeding. “They’re paid well to forget what they see, but we take extra precautions.” The remainder of the car trip we sat in tense silence. Not until we were boarded on the plane and in the air did he speak again. “In the bathroom cabinet under the sink there’s a first aid kit. Bring it to me.” His breathing was labored from the blood loss and pain. I did as he ordered, deciding now was not the time to argue about politeness. When I returned, I found him lying on his back on the couch, shirt removed and wadded under his injured shoulder. “Get out the alcohol and pour it on the wound.” His voice was steady but I could hear the strain from his discomfort. I bit my lip in apprehension at doing something that would cause him excruciating pain. “Are you sure you don’t want to wait until we’re back home and you can use some pain reliever and have a professional do this?” He turned his eyes to me, brow furrowed and I forgot how to breathe when his hand lifted to gently trace the line of my jaw. “Need to do it now. I don’t want any traces of iron left in me when this is done.” Our eyes stayed locked and his seemed to say, you were magnificent tonight. And I offered in return, you were pretty amazing yourself. The everpresent magnetic pull between us intensified and I found myself lowering my lips to his. The kiss was far gentler than any we had shared before. My lips pressed firmly but softly to his and my tongue gave a small caress of his lower lip before I hesitantly pulled back, eyes unable to meet his. I schooled myself for what I had to do and lifted the bottle above his wound. When the clear liquid poured onto his marred flesh, his teeth gnashed together and he hissed. I then held a hand towel next to the wound and he rolled himself just enough to pour the fluid back out of the hole in his shoulder, staining the towel red with blood. I retrieved several over-the-counter pain killers from the kit and a bottle of water from the mini-fridge. Once he had taken the medicine, he shut his eyes and breathed steadily until I decided he had fallen asleep. Finally calming from the intensity of the evening, I sat on the floor next to where I had discarded the sword. It was the most magnificent thing I had ever seen and I could understand why the museum staff had thought it a replica. Nothing as old as the Sword of Light could have been in as pristine condition as this masterpiece of craftsmanship was without the aid of magic. The blade gleamed off the peaks of the swirling carvings and the wooden handle was smooth with wear but still had a well-oiled shine. The two stones on either end of the grip glinted off the airplane lighting and my hand slowly extended to touch one of the red gems, each the size of a dime. From there my hand slid its way onto the grip and as it fell into place on the wood, I realized I could feel the sword’s presence. Not exactly like feeling a presence in the shadows, as I’d been able to do when the Red Caps had surrounded us in the garage. This was more like a sentience in the sword, a magical essence distinct to itself. When I had killed the Red Cap by pushing darkness into him, the magic almost felt tangible. Like it was an extension of me that I had pushed inside the creature. In that instance I had forced my magic inside the creature, but in this case I could feel a part of me wanting to connect with the magic in the sword. On a series of deep breaths, I relaxed myself both inside and out, and felt as if a shield I hadn’t known that I possessed had dropped. Removing that barrier allowed the two magics to connect and the sword pulsed with light. My lungs emptied on a gasp and my mouth dropped open from the wonder and delight of the sensation. “You obviously have light magic—the sword can be handled by anyone but would only glow like that when used by someone who possesses light magic. But you can do things the rest of us can’t—do you have any more insights into what you might be?” My eyes stayed fixed on the sword as I shook my head slowly. “You said yourself I was becoming Fae, what do you mean ‘what you might be?’” “Certain Seelie and Unseelie can trace, jumping from one location to another. Shadow Fae can dissolve into smoky shadow. You became invisible in a lighted room—I’ve never seen another Fae accomplish that feat.” I set the sword back on the floor and lifted my eyes to where he now sat upright on the couch, assessing me. “I wasn’t sure I could do it, but from what had happened in the past, I was pretty sure I had somehow made myself invisible. I tried once before to make it happen on command but couldn’t do it. I can only seem to use my powers when I’m really upset.” “That’s not all that uncommon for young Fae when they are learning to use their magic. Can I see the necklace?” he asked quietly. My protective instincts toward the necklace made me flinch at his question, but I overruled the urge to flee and slowly got to my feet and sat next to him on the couch. His hand lifted and with the softest of touches on my sensitive skin, he lifted the stone pendant. When he turned the pendant over, his eyes narrowed and brows nearly met in the middle as he studied the carving inlaid on the back. My heart rate skyrocketed and I tried to settle my racing thoughts with assurances that Lochlan would not hurt me. Whether it was selfpreservation or the necklace’s influence, I felt a strong desire to pull away and keep its secrets hidden. “It’s not possible.” His words were little more than a murmur to himself but I responded anyway