Curse And Craving

38

“What about the girl? How are we to know she isn’t involved?” asked the same one who had suggested that the timing had been merely coincidental. Ronan spoke rapidly in my defense. “She almost died. Why would a defenseless woman knowingly walk into a trap full of Red Caps?” Defenseless. The word brought back the memory of those inky veins spreading throughout the Red Cap's body, strangling the life from him. I’d been anything but defenseless. How could I possibly escape all this when I was drowning in magic? I’d wanted to think that my life could go back to normal without the necklace. That all of my problems centered around the damn necklace. But that wasn’t the case. I could now sense with an unsettling certainty that I was a central part of whatever was going on. Not my necklace. Me. And if that was the case, I couldn’t go back home. Not now. Maybe not ever. I couldn’t risk this magical world following me and harming my family. Of course, getting the necklace off would be the one true test. And if anyone could do it, wouldn’t the men of the Hunt be my best chance? “My necklace has powers,” I blurted over the murmur of the men’s voices. The room grew eerily silent, and all eyes turned to me. “I know many of you are wary of me, and I can understand. I’ve been secretive, but only because I’ve been scared. I didn’t know what was happening or who to trust. All of this is new to me.” My hand absently lifted to finger the pendant on my chest. “I’ve had the necklace as long as I can remember, but it never showed signs of being anything other than an ordinary necklace. The first time I had any hint that it might be otherwise was when the Draug came after me. He wanted the necklace and tried to yank it from my neck, but it wouldn’t come off. I’ve tried to remove it myself, and it won’t budge. Yes, I’m involved in this. However, I don’t know how or why, and I certainly had nothing to do with setting up the trap in the garage.” My hands fidgeted nervously under the heavy weight of their stares. “What powers does the necklace have?” asked Ronan. “It kept me hidden when I was in danger and revealed the Red Caps to me when they were hidden in the shadows. I think it might have helped me heal as well.” Several of the men whispered to those around them. My eyes met Lochlan’s apologetically. He’d asked over and over what I was hiding, but I’d been too scared to tell him. I was worried he’d resent me for lying, but instead, he gave a small tilt of his chin in approval. Bolstered by his encouragement, I continued. “At one point in the warehouse, a Red Cap had me pinned, and I thought he was going to kill me. I put my hands on his face, and it seemed to put a darkness into him. It spread like roots through his skin until it killed him.” I said the last part quietly, almost afraid to acknowledge it myself. “I’ve never heard of such a thing,” said a man at the other end of the table, voicing the thoughts that were so clearly written on all their faces. Lochlan moved to sit next to me on the sofa, his eyes fixed on my necklace. His fingers raised to touch the pendant, lifting it off my skin without incident. His eyes began to glow, and a pulse of energy buzzed across my skin right before his hand ricocheted back away from the necklace. “What happened?” I breathed. He shook his head, face scrunched in frustration. “I tried to use magic to break the chain. The protections placed on the amulet are impressive. While I’m still limited by the iron arrows, I doubt I’d be able to break the chain even at full power.” Hopelessness hollowed out my chest. This was what I’d feared most. I was trapped. Unaware of my horror, Lochlan returned to the table and addressed his men. “We all have many questions and even fewer answers, but tonight is not the time to search them out. My purpose in calling you here was to make sure we all know what we’re up against.” His eyes found mine. “Rebecca, do you have anything else you want to share?” I cleared my throat again, and the number of soft whispers that had started throughout the room stopped abruptly. “There is one more thing. I don’t know if it means anything at all—I may have just imagined it—but I saw a man as we were leaving the industrial park. I recognized him as a man I spoke with once before on my first day at the museum. Nothing of consequence, just admiring some of the artwork. I know that I hit my head during the fight, but I’d swear he was outside the garage by the car, and he gave me a nod as we were leaving. I passed out just afterward, so it may have been my eyes playing tricks on me, but I thought it was worth mentioning.” “Can you describe the man?” Lochlan asked warily. “He seemed young, but it was hard to tell. His skin was youthful, no wrinkles or anything, except a few laugh lines around his eyes. Those eyes were what confused me—they felt ancient. He was close to six feet tall and had light blond hair, almost white, and his eyes were an ice blue. When he began to talk to me, I could have sworn the room had been empty. It was like he just appeared behind me. Now, I can’t help but wonder if he had traced into the room.” “Was his accent like the rest of ours?” Lochlan asked. “No, he wasn't Irish. More like British with a hint of something else. Maybe Scandinavian?” “Is there anything else you can recall about him? Something he said or a mannerism?” I waded through my memory of the conversation and attempted to recall if anything he had said would now have significance. “The only things that stuck with me were that he knew my name and commented that it was good to see me. I remember thinking it was odd to say good to see you instead of good to meet you, but I figured it was just a difference in colloquial language. I had no reason to suspect him of anything more than a friendly gentleman.” Michael stood quickly and spoke to Lochlan in an alarmed tone. “Why would he be here?” “Does that description mean something to you? You know who he is?” I asked with astonishment. I couldn’t imagine that I had given them enough information to go off, but they all had the same man in mind by the concerned expressions on their faces. “We can't know for sure yet, but your description sounds like Merlin.” The name spoken aloud created a frenzy of chatter in the room, but Lochlan continued. “Did he give you any hint as to his purpose?” “No. I don't know anything else. What does this mean?” I looked at Lochlan for answers. “Merlin keeps to himself. He’s an ancient Fae of great power and would not involve himself in a trivial matter. His presence indicates that there is a greater danger than we originally suspected.”