It really was my mother.
“Those shadows are wraiths, Le Gardien. They only have a physical form if they attached themselves to a human's body. It's the only way they have any influence on people or objects in this realm.”
I stared at him and wondered how it could possibly be a coincidence that Ciarah's mother would show up here.
There was no chance.
This was not a coincidence.
A shock of agony rippled through me as another faerie met their match at the hands of the harpies … and the shadows, they were back.
My Lords.
Both Arlo and Reece were on the roof of the tallest crypt, their blood dripping down the sides of the cement structure.
A woman was with them, a bemused smile on her face.
“Hello Veil Keeper,” she said, her long red hair hanging down on either side of her face, pooling on the roof of the mausoleum beneath her feet. “Or should I call you Ciarah?”
Jogging over to the base of the crypt, I swept my wings out and snapped them close, rising to the roof of the nearest building. The horde of harpies had fanned out behind the woman … and the shadows that'd retreated … they took up all the dark places around her, every nook and cranny, every bit of dark covered and protected from the silver moonlight.
“You brought my mother here?” I asked, and she smiled.
“She's no longer your mother. You understand that, don't you? You are no longer the human girl you once were, you're a fae woman now. A fae woman with awful memories and the poison of torture clogging your brain. You have responsibilities you never asked for, duties you never needed.”
“Give me my lords,” I told her, my voice surprisingly calm. I was so focused on the woman standing on the nearby crypt that I didn't bother to look when the sound of nails crashing around the roof next to me echoed through the cemetery.
Raphael was no ordinary wolf—he'd just leapt up to join me.
Killian appeared on my other side, teeth gritted in frustration, blue eyes narrowed.
“Who is this?” I asked him because I had the feeling the woman wasn't about to introduce herself.
“Queen Medbh,” he whispered, pronouncing the name Mayv.
“Honored you remembered, Lord of Frost,” she said, her voice soft, at odds with the hardness in her face. But she didn't look like a bad guy. No, she looked soft and sweet and strong—despite the fact that my men were bleeding on the ground in front of her. And she was looking at me like I was the one at fault here. “I'd thought perhaps my memory might be lost with time, but it seems like your parents have passed along the knowledge of me?”
“Give me my lords,” I repeated, because I wasn't about to stand here and have a conversation with this woman while two of my men bled.
Several of the harpies dropped down to the crypt roof, one of them turning Reece over with her massive bird's feet, black talons shimmering as she stood over his body, straddling him.
My throat tightened and my fingers squeezed the spear so hard that if it hadn't been a magical artifact, I most certainly would've broken it.
“If she touches him …” I warned because harpies had reputations for rape, torture, and disease. Even a sex god wouldn't hold up to the rancid diseases she could pass on.
“You'll what, Ciarah?” the woman said, still staring at me like I was the filth of the earth. “You don't exactly seem to have a lot of options right now. If you want these men back, if you want to leave the cemetery with the rest of your hunt, you'll listen to my proposition. Give me the Spear of Lug, and we'll leave you and yours in the exact condition you are now.”
She paused and her mouth got wide and tight.
“Resist and we'll have to see how your man fares under the pussy of a harpy.”
I stood there for all of a millisecond.
And then I attacked her.
The False Queen had barely finished her words before Ciarah was flying at her like a harpoon. Her wings beat one powerful push and she was hurtling into the red-haired fairy with the force of a damn freight train.
The two of them disappeared from sight behind the crypt Ciarah had just propelled them off, but the sounds of their battle could be heard clearly.
The Alpha wolf and I exchanged a worried look, then both scrambled off the crypt to help Ciarah. Stupid woman still didn't have her memories, so she had no idea what she was up against in Medbh.
The one thing going for her, was that Medbh likely expected a magical attack and would have been totally caught off guard by Ciarah's brute force style.
Huh, I guess there was something to be said for her lack of memories after all.
“Ciarah!” I called out, reaching the place where I would have assumed they'd landed, but finding nothing there. “Chère?”
“Cheap tricks,” Raphael LeRoux growled, shifting halfway back to human and raising his nose to the air to sniff. “The Pretender doesn't have her full power in this realm, so she's using her host's magic to hide. They're still here somewhere, I can smell them.”
“How do we help?” I asked him, furious that I had no idea myself. Every fibre of my being cried out to help my Lady but how could I when I couldn't find her?
“Check on your faery friends,” the wolf snarled back at me. “Keep them safe from those harpy whores. If anything happens to them … well we're all as good as dead because the Veil Keeper's grief will tear this world in two.”
I nodded tightly, but still didn't leave. How could I leave? Mon amour needed my help, I could feel it.
“Go!” The Alpha barked at me. “My wolves and I will assist the Keeper as best we can until Medbh's magic wears weak, which it will soon enough.”
As he spoke, a half dozen more wolves skidded around the corner and trotted toward us and I nodded again. He was right, of course. Medbh's true form was still trapped in Faerie; she was only inhabiting the body of the witch she was in, and the amount of effort it would require meant she couldn't maintain it forever …
“When they reappear, yell for me,” I commanded. My voice was thick with frost magic as was expected when the Lord of Winter gave an order, and Raphael dipped his head in respectful acknowledgement even as his lip curled with a snarl.
Not bothering to spare any more time discussing our best course of action, I raced back to where Arlo and Reece had been held by those disgusting bird women.
Using my ice magic, which I'd felt grow stronger since Ciarah had accepted me as her Lord, I built a short staircase which allowed me to run straight up to the crypt roof where they lay bleeding and unconscious.