An Immortal Descent

“My sister’s gifts are plenty amusing,” Julian agreed. “Just ask our Nora. Poor lass has become well acquainted with all Deri can do.”

 

 

Mockery filled his eyes, peeling away any residual familiarity I had seen after his transformation. Cold-blooded monster. I had never hated another person more in my life than at that moment.

 

“Don’t be shy,” he said, beckoning to them. “Come closer.”

 

A catlike hiss came from Deri. Her hand retracted to a bony fist, and she hunched her shoulders, drawing into Nora’s side.

 

“Now!” Julian yelled, the muscles jumping in his neck from the strain.

 

I looked between them, uncertainty rooting my feet to the stone.

 

Nora made the first move. Head held high, she started forward, her gait confident. Deri’s expression tightened to a sullen sneer. She moved as well, though soon lagged half a step behind. They stopped a few strides from my side, where Deri pressed into Nora as though in search of comfort. My stomach curdled when Nora draped an arm over the wretch’s shoulder, pulling her even closer.

 

Nora steadied her gaze on Julian. “What do you want?”

 

His smirk crawled over my skin. “You know what I want, Nora Goodwin.”

 

She arched a defiant brow at him but made no further reply. Head down, Deri muttered a series of unintelligible words beneath her breath.

 

“Speak up, sister. I’ll not have you mumbling in front of our guests.”

 

Deri slanted a look at her brother. “I said yeh can’t have her.” Something wet glistened on her cheek. Squinting through the green light, I saw red-rimmed eyes and dried tear tracks that stained her pale face.

 

“Shh,” Nora soothed her.

 

Deri sniffed and ran a sleeve under her nose. Then, resting her wet cheek against Nora’s side, she glowered like a demon at Julian.

 

I blinked, a rush of understanding nearly sweeping me off my feet from what had so obviously changed between the two of them. It defied reason, yet in the past week Nora had somehow claimed a position of authority over the wretch. Everything about them verified the new undercurrents of their relationship, the way Deri angled toward Nora, how Nora held her with one arm—just like a mother comforting her child.

 

My heart constricted. “Nora...”

 

She looked at me with such complexity of emotion, I didn’t know what to think. “It’s all right, Selah.”

 

Deri twisted the end of her shawl in one hand as her gaze darted from side to side over the stone floor. “Took me mam. Sliced her heart, stole her life.” The words tumbled out, frantic and slurred. “He’ll not get the goody lady. Little Deri won’t let him.”

 

Julian heaved a breath. “Stop your fussing, lass. Ladies will be fighting to be your mam once they know you’re the sister of their king.”

 

King... I jerked my head toward Julian. Was that his plan?

 

“You’ve quite a vision,” Tom said. “Except you’ve forgotten that the moment Brigid learns you’ve abused her power, she’ll bar you from entering the Otherworld.”

 

Julian spat on the ground near Marin’s foot. “Brigid can keep her scraps of fire. Carmen’s power is more than I need to rule Ireland and run the English from our shores.”

 

Cate eyed him. “So the son becomes the witch.”

 

“I’ll be their king,” Julian ground out. “The best they’ve ever known.”

 

“Yet you need the birth blood of Lugh and Nuada first.” Cate appeared thoughtful. “I suppose Lord Fitzalan and Nora Goodwin could create a child, but nine months is an awfully long time to keep us all here.”

 

Julian laughed. “Birth blood may be the strongest, but death blood will do just as well for my purposes.”

 

Death blood... Ice seeped through my veins. “Nora and Henry,” I whispered.

 

“Aye, my love,” Julian said, turning to me. “And our grandparents too since there’s no use trying to change their minds after so many years of following Brigid’s rules.” He flipped a derisive hand at them. “They’re nothing more than lapdogs, doing the goddess’s biding while Ireland suffers.”

 

I stared at him, unable to speak, barely able to breathe.

 

“Don’t fret, lass, I’ve no intention to let you share their fate. Not after the assurances you gave me in Brigid’s garden.” His gaze grew more intense until it pricked at the back of my skull. “Once I’m king, Selah, you’re to be my queen.”

 

A low growl came from Henry, and he lifted his sword to waist level. “Touch her, Stroud, and you’ll regret it.”

 

“Ever the brave warrior, my lord. I say we let Selah decide and save ourselves from a pointless squabble.” Julian smirked at him. “Unless you’re afraid she’ll choose me.”

 

“She’s already made her choice.” Henry’s expression remained calm, though I sensed a well of lethal rage just below the surface. “Yet you persist in pursuing her like a lovelorn pup. Twice now she has begged me to spare your life. Upon my honor, there will not be a third time.”

 

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