Chapter Seven

“B…a Spark?!” Silas laughed outright. “Yeah right.” He waved his hand at Beckett. “Go on with that mess, no one has time for your comedy routine.”

“I would watch my words, Halfling.” Beckett narrowed his eyes. “We are swift to offense, and I wouldn’t want to have Gemma need to cry at your funeral.”

Silas leapt from the couch. “Don’t be too sure I’d be on the losing end of that, Prince. All of you full bloods underestimate us. We‘re the best of both you and humanity.” He flipped his hand in a vulgar gesture. “And you’d best remember that. You’re on my turf.”

“Ah yes, your ’turf’.” Beckett curled his lip. “It wouldn’t matter whose turf you happen to be on, child. I’ve had centuries of nothing but pure boredom.” He stalked forward, stopping just close enough to tower over Silas. “I know more than just ten ways to kill someone, and they would not be able to detect that it was anything other than natural causes. I would suggest you do not underestimate me.”

It wasn’t supposed to happen, Silas was just going to curl his fist and rage at the arrogant prick. However, as he curled his fist, his body had other ideas. Decades of training kicked in, and lightning reflexes blurred his movement. He slammed his fist into the perfect nose of the overly egotistical elf. There was a satisfying crunch of bone.

Beckett wheeled backward a moment, clutching his nose almost comically. He cursed, not that Silas actually understood the words, he only knew a few phrases in the old language of the Sidhe, but the tone made it clear the words were profanity.

Beckett took a moment to recover, before launching himself on Silas. The two crashed into the couch, and Gemma leapt away. She screamed at them, but bruised egos forced them on, trading blow for blow. Neither used their magick, both needing the release of the physical fight.

As soon as it had begun, it ended. Both Beckett and Silas were suspended midair, toes barely scraping across the floor, hands locked tightly to their sides, unable to move. They were shifted slightly, necks craned unnaturally to the now open door at the other side of the family room.

Bailey stood in the doorway, chest heaving, eyes too bright. “I will not condone violence in my home anymore!” They lifted even further, gagging, eyes bulging as their air flow was slowly cut off. “Do I make myself clear?!” She flicked a finger and both males were tossed haphazardly in opposite directions.

“There will be no further fighting, friends.” She hissed, stalking into the room. “Not amongst us. We need each other.” She turned to face Beckett, her gaze sweeping over him, then dismissing him completely. “For now.”

“Need each other?” Tobin repeated, holding his hands out in a placating gesture when Bailey turned her attention to him. She stepped forward into the room, her movements slow, considered, full of a lethal grace. Tobin backed up as she stalked toward him.

“Yes, need each other.” She whispered, her voice a deadly silk that dropped across the room. “The portal has shown me things, Lordling.”

Silas stood, clutching at his throat, his eyes tracking Bailey warily. “How can the portal show you anything? It’s just a collection of magicks that happen to touch both worlds.”

Bailey kept advancing. Tobin felt the wall at his back. He was cornered, no where else to move. He did not want to resort to using his magick against the Halfling, but he would. Bailey stopped a handbreadth from him. She stared directly into his eyes for several long moments.

He felt trapped, his eyes darting around the room, pleading for anyone to assist him. “They can’t. There is not a person in this plane or the next that will ever be able to help you if I so choose.” She answered his unspoken plea. “However, Mabon, you have no need to fear me.”

Tobin flinched even further into the wall, his hands dropping to his side. His heart pounded against his ribs, her eyes keeping him rooted to the spot. His breathing was a sharp sound in the silent room, harsh and rattling as he worked to get a deep breath into his lungs. His throat tightened with a mixture of fear and a sudden longing to know exactly how she tasted.

He swallowed thickly, “How do you know that?”

She stepped close enough he could feel the heat of her body through his linen shirt. The world had narrowed to only the two of them, as his harsh breathing caught in his chest. Was she always this intense?

“I told you,” She whispered conspiratorially. “The portal told me things.” She whirled away from Tobin and the breath flowed back into his lungs. “Still does, actually. Whispers.”

Silas felt the shock on his face. “That’s insanity. Portals can’t talk!”

“Of course they can.” Beckett sneered, blood coating his cheeks and chin from his nose. He remained sitting in the floor where he had been tossed away. “Wild fae magick is not the same magick we are imbued with. It is sentient.”

“If you knew this, why not tell us sooner?” Silas rolled his eyes.

“It chooses who it speaks to. Not everyone is aware.” Beckett replied. “Now, Lady Inherent, explain what exactly the portal told you.”

Bailey smiled at him, showing too much teeth. “It’s quite simple, it told me all about you three Princes. You’ve passed through a time a two, y’know.”

She began her lethal walk again, this time toward Beckett. “It told me of your fears, your hopes. You leave a piece of yourself in the portal each time you enter. And the portal remembers, Cernunnos.”

She smirked at him as she settled herself on the floor near him. “But you know all about that, don’t you Prince of Summer? One of the oldest and purest bloodline of Sidhe. The Idle Prince, so world-weary that not even your duties amuse you anymore.” Beckett sucked in a breath, eyes narrowed. “Also the only Prince who Sparked for someone that was already spoken for. I wonder, do you get a second shot at love? Will there ever be another Spark for you?”

His shoulders slumped, and he shook his head. “What other secrets do you know, child?”

“To you, I may seem like a child, but I’ve seen enough in my life to age me quite quickly.” She stood and padded closer to him, looking down. “Would you like to see?”

His mouth dropped in surprise as she threw herself in his lap, magick wrapping around her like a cloak. Beckett screamed, his head thrown back, body arching. The wild magick that simmered under her skin sank into his bones.

Scenes flashed in his head, a mother’s grave, a father’s bloody body immersed in a pool of tinted water. Faster and faster the images came, a crying child, a loving grandfather, death after death after death. The portal, Jayce’s eyes, men with blood on their hands. Faerie.

“Enough!” Tobin’s hands closed around Bailey’s shoulders, physically hauling her off Beckett. His body was slicked with his own brand of magick, protecting him against hers. “Stop this!”

She didn’t fight him, instead, once she gained her feet, back to him, she allowed herself to drop into his body. She fitted herself against his frame and grabbed his hands on her shoulders. “Your magick won’t save you, Tobin.”

The moment stretched between them, before he found himself on the floor with no knowledge of how he’d gotten there. “Now…I just need one more to complete the set. The wild magicks demand a price. Three souls. The portal took its payment, now I need mine.”

Gemma stared at her friend, her sister. “What are you doing, B?”

“Tying up loose ends.” Bailey replied distractedly. “Ah, got him.”

There was an audible popping sound, and suddenly Jayce was in the floor with Beckett and Tobin. “Jarylo, nice of you to join us.”

Jayce’s eyes rounded and he attempted to stand. He couldn’t find purchase on the floor and instead attempted to scramble away. “No, no. Now. Mabon, Cernunnos, and Jarylo, you are hereby bound by name to serve the portal and this Inherent.” She gestured at herself. “By name I call you.”

The room grew heavier, darker, her magick swirling tight around her body, earth, fae, and wild fae. She leaned forward, touching each elf prince on his throat. “Now you bear my mark, and are tied to me.”

She threw her head back, a manic laugh bubbling out of her. “From now until death claims us all, you are Mine! Bound by night, by the storm, by all Chaos itself. So mote it be!”

The clan house shook on its foundation as a thunderclap of magick imploded on them all.