TRUE (A Fire Born Novel Book 3) Read online

  "So, you were like the tag team of old? Good god! Did anyone see you? Did you talk to him? Layla? Does Justice know anything?"

  "No, I didn't talk to them. And Justice ... we did what we had to do. There was no reaction time, we just—"

  "Killed someone."

  I stared at him, gritting my teeth.

  "What if someone saw you working together like that? You're on a watch, remember?" He glanced at Ana who was sitting up smiling—an evil, knowing grin on her face.

  "It was dark," I said through my grinding teeth.

  "What are you two talking about?" Ana asked. "'Cause it sounds like someone isn't telling the truth about who they are." Her gaze landed in my direction. "That can't be true, can it?" She wrapped the sheet around her body, slid off the bed, and sauntered toward me. "The old Max would never have taken me to his bed, would he?" Her light yellow-green eyes gleamed as she batted her eyelashes at me. "Would he?"

  "No," I said, my voice unfaltering. "He wouldn't."

  She smirked. "Didn't think so." Pushing up on her toes, she kissed me longingly, and I half-kissed her back, hating myself, cursing myself every second, but part of me ... the part I didn't recognize anymore, that part wanted to get back in bed with her.

  Justice cleared his throat, and Ana broke away.

  "So, what were you two talking about then?" She asked, snuggled up against me.

  "Just business." Sam didn't seem able to hide the shocked expression on his face. "Max and I have some stuff we need to do, so ..."

  "Right." Ana kissed my cheek and searched the bed for her pajamas, untangling them from the mess of sheets.

  Sam raised an eyebrow that said, 'really?'

  I averted my eyes, rubbing my forehead.

  "See you later, then?" Ana asked, whispering in my ear as she kissed my jaw.

  The motion sent a shiver through my entire body, and my Oghams unwound, sending stabs across my flesh as if in protest.

  "Welcome to the dark side." Ana kissed my neck over the Coat of Arms, and for a split second I wondered if my father had truly removed the Vampyre Fae's poison. "Told you it was only a matter of time."

  I didn't say anything as she made her way out of the bedroom, dragging the bed sheet behind her. It hung low, showing her bare back and half of her butt. I couldn't stop the grin. Such a shy girl.

  Sam shook his head, and the glare in his eye reminded me of a disapproving parent. "You're really good at making things worse for yourself, aren't you?"

  I didn't answer, only grabbed my boots and kicked the bloody sword under my bed by the hilt.

  "I'm guessing there's a body we need to go find before the rest of the castle wakes up and sees it?" He shoved the door closed behind Ana.

  I yanked my dirt-blood-covered boots on. "And a head."

  "Oh, my god. This day just keeps getting better. Are you sure some of the poison Elethan filled your blood with didn't take?"

  No. I'm not sure about that anymore. Not at all.

  "Ryan pulled a knife on me once at REBELLION," Sam said as I walked out of my bedroom. "And he's threatened Benny numerous times. Angels aren't supposed to date Fae."

  "No?" I took the stairs three at a time, my steps heavy.

  "No."

  "Huh, never knew that." I strode through the main chamber in the castle, fires raging in their hearths, and out the wooden front doors, thankful not to run into anyone.

  "They're below us, or so he thinks. Thought. He hated her. I hated him," Sam went on.

  The gloomy early morning light was a welcome sight. "Layla's mom always thought the Fae hated the Tuatha Dé," I said, distracted. "But then Benny is a Fae and Layla's guardian, and the entire Guard protecting the Otherworld are all Fae, so I never understood how she really believed that." Freezing air cleaned my lungs and made my head ache a little less. More snow had fallen over the course the night, but it wasn't sticking, just melting into the same brown slush. Thick condensation hung in the air and expelled in white plumes from my nose and mouth with every chilly breath I took.

  "You look like shit, you know." Sam glanced over, shoving his hands in his pockets with a slight shiver, his blonde hair spiked up all over his head. "Really bad. You could almost pass for one of the Demon Gods." He chuckled. But it wasn't funny—because I was beginning to feel like one.

  11

  MAX

  Ryan’s body was where we left it, half buried in the melting, dirty snow. Even though threatening me and Layla was punishable by death, killing him still felt sacrilegious. Like I was the one who'd committed a crime. Killing Fomore henchman was one thing—killing an angel, mine or not, with good reason or not, I couldn't stomach. Shifting my gaze away from his body, I threw up in the slush, my head throbbing again.

  "That, I could've done without." Sam trudged forward. "At least it's cold—no smell."

  I didn't lift my head to see what he was doing, hands still resting against my knees, only dry-heaved with nothing left in my stomach to vomit.

  "Will you stop? You're gonna make me throw up."

  "Sorry." I wiped my mouth, and stood up. Ryan's body was gone. So was Sam. A second later, he stood back in front of me as if he hadn't vanished. "What'd you do?"

  "We're angels, cursed, but still angels. I took Ryan home."

  For the first time since I'd known him, Sam seemed truly angelic. A celestial glow emanated from him—an Otherworldly light.

  "Home?"

  "He'll be at peace now. The curse will lift." Sam gave a slight smile and a shrug. "I almost wonder if he wanted you to kill him. He's been suffering the longest of everyone."

  "Home?" I repeated, not wanting to think about the rest of it.

  "The Afterworld."

  I stared at him, forehead scrunched. "Mag Mell?"

  "Yeah."

  "It's still there?"

  "Of course it's still there." He shook his head like he thought I was crazy and kicked the slush around where Ryan's body had been seconds before.

  I ran a hand through my hair. "The King—Elethan, said that after the Morrigan was freed from Layla, she would open the gates of Mag Mell and release the powers of the Afterworld."

  "Huh? You never told me that." He stopped kicking the snow around.

  "That's because I thought he was crazy!" I thrust my hands out. "Still do. Necromancy? The Ancient city was destroyed ... burned to the ground, and the Morrigan can't possibly be—" I paused. "The nightmares."

  "What nightmares?"

  "I had a nightmare last night. I've been having them for days." I glanced up. "The Morrigan was walking down the steps in front of the ruined castle of Mag Mell, and Agrona was bowed at her feet."

  "Who?"

  "The goddamned banshee who was in my house! The one who put the Raven Ogham on the back of Layla's neck!" I paced in a circle. "The one who has all the answers." I stared him the face. "I have to go. How'd you take Ryan back just now?"

  Sam's eyes nearly popped out of his head. "You have to go ... where?"

  "Mag Mell. I need you to do what you just did to take Ryan's body back." I held my arms out, waiting.

  "I ... what? Ryan's dead ... and you ... aren't." Sam seemed to grapple for words. A side of him I'd never seen and for a minute he reminded me of Justice. "I can't just ... send you to the Afterworld."

  "Can you send yourself?"

  "I ... yeah, probably, but—"

  "Take me. I'll hitch a ride or whatever." My arms remained held wide.

  "Hitch a ride?" His blue eyes bugged out again. "This isn't a 'beam you up' thing. Put your arms down. You look like an idiot. I'm seriously starting to believe a scary amount of poison leaked into your system."

  "Sam ..." I sighed, knowing he was dead on, but not willing to tell him that, or admit it to myself either. "I need to find Agrona. The last place I saw her was in Mag Mell."

  "In a nightmare." His tone dripped with sarcasm. "Where you also saw the Morrigan. Who's dead. In the physical sense at least."

  "She's not dead.
And you know she's not dead."

  "I know her power extends beyond the grave. But she is dead. She isn't walking around, Max. And you're telling me you saw her in a nightmare. A nightmare." His tone remained belittling.

  "Will you shut up? Listen, Layla's visions are always real. Always. Who's to say what I saw isn't too? I had a memory—more like a vision, really, of when Mag Mell was destroyed. When I was a boy. The first me. MacCoinnich. A few days ago, before I went back to the Otherworld."

  "Whoa."

  "You think I'm crazy." My tone was flat.

  He raised his eyebrows, tilted his head to the side, and shrugged.

  "Oh, god. It was real. The vision I had. Okay? Seriously. I'm not insane. If it wasn't real, then how do I know exactly what happened during the Uprising? Can you explain that?"

  "No ... but—" He shoved his hands in his pockets and averted his eyes.

  "Exactly. Let's go." I held my arms out again, waiting. "Do your thing."

  "Taking you there could kill you for all I know," he argued. "You're a God not an angel.

  "Which means I should be in better shape than you, all things considered."

  "Max—"

  "Something is going on with Layla, and Agrona knows what it is. Layla isn't herself, and I swear ... something ... something happened to her. I need to know what it is. If I'm lucky I'll run into the Morrigan."

  "Run into her?" His brows hit his hairline.

  "Just take me and stop arguing."

  "Fine." He threw his arms up in the air. "And where shall we tell your dad we're off to?" He tilted his head. "Getting coffee at the local Demon God haunt?"

  "I don't care what you tell him."

  "What I tell him? Me? He already hates me because I betrayed him, as he puts it, when I jumped out the damn window trying to get Benny the hell out of this shit hole."

  "Which would not have been possible if it weren't for me." I grinned. "You owe me."

  "You're an asshole."

  I smiled wider.

  "A slightly deranged one at that. Who might get himself killed doing this."

  I shrugged. "Then Layla wins the Battle by default. Her people will be safe. I'm half dead anyway."

  "Not sure what you mean by half dead, but the Morrigan will still be attached to Layla, or whatever, whether you live or die. If you were to die, I mean."

  "True, which means we need to hurry. It's tomorrow, the Battle." I made a whirling motion with my hands.

  "Wait here." Sam pointed toward the ground like he was scolding a dog who'd just dug out of the fence. "I'll be right back. I'm telling the cook who likes you so damn much that we have an errand to run. I'm sure she's awake. She can relay the message to Elethan." He walked off. "Probably making 'Master MacKenzie' his favorite: blueberry pancakes."

  "Bring me one if she is. And some water. Vomit doesn't have the best aftertaste." I glanced toward the spot where Ryan had lain only minutes ago, wishing I hadn't been throwing up when Sam had taken his body 'back.'

  "I'm not bringing you anything," Sam shouted. "I'm hoping I don't kill your insane ass when I try to traverse you into the Afterworld." He disappeared into the snowy haze of morning light.

  "We're traversing? Why didn't you say that?"

  "You didn't ask."

  "I can't traverse from the Shadow Realm—"

  "But I can."

  12

  LAYLA

  My blindfold is removed, vision adjusting to the gloom of a place I remember from another time, but would just as soon forget. The Underworld smells of rot and death, a stench I know well. My Auntie Macha's crows fly in unison overhead, protecting me as they've done since I was born, before she turned into the bitter Morrigan and betrayed me. Buried me beneath a pile of burning rubble, my MacCoinnich trying to protect me, dying at my side. The crows' battle cries are high and crisp on the stagnant wind, black wings eclipsing the grey sky.

  Stands rise into the gloom surrounding a coliseum. The Shadow Realm's always crescent moon slices through the daylight like a bloody grimace. Spiky wrought iron entwines the highest tiers where legions of people congregate, as though King Elethan fears his own people. Perhaps he does. They scream down at the empty landscape on which I stand—their barbaric, leering faces staying true to the savageness of the Demon God's race. The Lesser, fallen Gods.

  I move forward with the grace expected of a Queen, my steady gaze searching the crowd, until I find the one—the only one, I am looking for. The ropes fall from my bound wrists, sheared away by force of will alone, and I smile as a hard shove catches me in the back, pushing me onto a fighting area like a common criminal. The Fomorian, shunned into their belittled existence within the Shadows, have waited for the day to humiliate the Fire Born. Their day has arrived.

  The screams heighten overhead, and the one whose face matches my MacCoinnich's raises his head from the other side of the field. Strong jaw clenched, muscles taut, his shadowed eyes stare from underneath a hooded cloak. A small grin tugs at my lip as I feel my heart beat again. I have missed his face. For many millennia my heart has lain dormant. Recognition crosses his expression, his grip tightening on the hilt of his sword, hidden under long robes. His chest rises and falls, breaths racing. Because of me.

  "How shall I kill you, my love? I saw what you did last night." I smile as fire releases from my hands, tearing down the barren field for him.

  *****

  "Layla?" Justice's voice pulled me out of the nightmare. "Are you okay? You screamed."

  "I ..." I heaved a breath, trying to settle my nerves, sitting upright in the bed. "I had a bad dream." Drenched in sweat, my heart pounded in my chest.

  "You're awake now. It's over." His voice slurred a little from sleep. "You okay?"

  "Yeah," I breathed. "I'm okay."

  Justice plopped back down on the cot he'd been sleeping on, on the other side of the room, and his steady breathing resumed almost instantly.

  I settled against my pillows on the large four poster bed, eyes still wide, breath refusing to regulate. Just a dream, just a bad dream. Except ... Max told me my dreams could be dangerous—real. I knew that, but the person in my dream—that person was the true Teine. Not me, not the Teine who'd been called Layla all of her life to keep her hidden from the truth, but Teine, the Fire Goddess, born forever ago in a completely different world. The one I was beginning to realize had a mind entirely of her own. Risen from the grave and rejoined with the other part of her soul. Inside my body. A physical being or not, she had a power that reached beyond mine, cut through mine, and it scared the hell out of me.

  I saw what you did last night? She meant Ryan, Max killing Ryan. Right?

  "Layla?" Justice's gruff tone cut through my thoughts. "Sure you're okay? You're breathing kind of loud."

  I glanced over to where he was lying on the cot near the wall. He was bigger than it was long or wide, and I cracked a smile, noticing his feet hanging off the end near the dresser and his arm dragging over the cold stone floor. "Maybe we should switch beds," I said with a laugh threatening to break through. "I don't think you fit down there."

  He grinned, white teeth gleaming in the dark, rolling onto his back, and the cot groaned in response under his weight. "What makes you think that? I fit just fine." With a yawn, he draped his arm over his eyes, and pulled his blanket up to his chest, leaving his legs from the knees down, bare. He had to be cold.

  There was a pile of blankets on the foot of the bed I was lying in, so I sat up and threw him one. "Here."

  Justice gave another sleepy smile and tugged the blanket close to his chin like a teddy bear, his eyes still closed. "Sure you're okay?"

  "Yeah." I stared up at the ceiling as I laid back down in the dark room, memories and thoughts weaving together, reminding me of everything and everyone I was about to lose. Justice had to be right about the Morrigan having a hand in rejoining the parts of my split soul. It made the most sense. If I died during the Battle, I would be gone forever, the Otherworld dying along with me
. Still ... I wasn't sure why that would be important to her.

  13

  MAX

  The ruins of the collapsed castle loomed overhead as I stood at the base of the steps, staring up in disbelief. The last time I'd gazed up at the burning city of Mag Mell had been in a dream, a vision of a place I only vaguely remembered from my other life—when Teine and MacCoinnich had been killed, buried underneath the smoldering ruin.

  How many times had MacCoinnich run up to meet his mother from the place I stood? My mother. Or Teine ... from the very same spot at the base of the stairs? Smiling. Laughing. There were so many details I didn't remember from that life. Details I wished I knew, needed to know. Those memories were buried though, deep within the crumbled stone remains of what was once a beautiful place.

  Motionless, I gaped at the ruin, my legs having no desire to nudge me any closer or take another step. Nothing had changed from the vision I'd seen in the Fomore castle days before, except a blackish hue seemed to have draped the entire scene. Like a burial shroud. The skies were dark like a storm was threatening to roll in at any second, but there were no clouds.

  The castle steps had long since collapsed into dust in sections, making the climb precarious. The golden double doors leading into what I remembered was once a magnificent palace, hung off bent hinges, crooked and ajar. Ribbons of yellow light spilled through the crevices from within the castle, illuminating the steps. The four columns supporting the facade of the building bore streaks of black soot and were marred with holes, missing chunks of stone. Nothing moved—no sounds touched my ears. It was as though the entire place had been sealed into its own still, silent coffin.

  "Where is everyone?" I gave a half glance over my shoulder at Sam, who stood with hands on his hips, staring around at the decay.

  "Dead." He raised an eyebrow. "The dead don't mingle much, from what I've heard."

  I eyed him.

  He laughed. "Were you expecting to have a formal greeting of some kind? It's the Afterworld ... I can't believe I got you here in one piece."

  "Yeah, I'm aware of what it is, but where do the dead ... rest?" I wasn't sure what I was expecting or how I would find Agrona, if I would at all.