“Fuck you, Kieran,” I snap. “Just use your power to pull her spirit from the brink before it slips away.”
He looks me over. “And in return you will . . . what exactly? Wash my car? You’re useless.”
“Just do it!” Aelia screeches.
I give up trying to convince him to reverse her fall. He could simply hold her spirit here, but he won’t. And her flesh isn’t healing, which means her spirit will slip away soon. I have to get her help. Quickly.
I tuck her into my chest, whispering into her ear, “Fight this, Sage. I’ve seen your power. Come back and melt his face off for what he did to you, or I will. And then we’ll both be dead. Come on, Daughter of Fire. Come back. Come back to me.” My voice falters, and I realize I’m panicked about more than Marius’s reaction. I have no idea if it’s because of seeing Astrid or if it’s because I’m freshly emerged from hibernation. But I’m raw. I’m actually feeling sorrow for the demi. As if I know her. As if I was a soul who cared for anything other than serving my goddess.
“We need to be very sure she’s a true daughter,” Kieran says. Disappointment threads through his words. “And this is a bad sign. A true blood wouldn’t have allowed me to harm them at all. She would’ve eviscerated me for touching her, and loved it.”
“She thinks she’s human,” I say, flabbergasted. “She doesn’t understand yet. It was too soon to force this.” I lift her from the ground. Kieran is ten times more powerful than me since I left my House, but I need to make it clear that I’m not going to let go easily. He better stay out of my way and let me take her.
“You’re a faithless one, aren’t you, bastard?” he says. “Truth doesn’t need time. It merely is.”
“What the hell are you babbling about?” Aelia asks. “You couldn’t have just stabbed her in the gut or something? It takes less than three minutes to bleed out from a severed artery, and you want her to heal herself that fast when she’s never done it before?”
Kieran stares down at Aelia. “I will not take a false blood claim as my Bonded.”
“She isn’t yours to Bond with,” I say through my teeth. “That covenant between our Houses died with your brother.”
“Then whose is she?” he asks, obviously sure I’m about as much of a threat as a gnat he can swat away. “You believe she’s yours?”
I shift her weight in my arms, cradling her tighter to my chest. “No,” I say, determination filling me as I start to walk from the alley. “I’m her guard and her shield. You, on the other hand, are no one to her now. And if I have anything to say about it, that’s the way it’ll stay.”
Aelia trails after me, keeping close as we walk back to where I parked. I nestle Sage in the passenger seat and try to decide where to take her for help. There’s only one soul I know who can meddle with spirits besides Kieran.
Aelia is horribly nervous, but I can’t tell if it’s fear of her father or fear for Sage.
“Go tell the driver you’re riding with me,” I say, and she obeys without her usual snarky comeback.
I get behind the wheel and start the car. Next to me, Sage is soaked in blood, pale as moonlight. And her neck, the flesh is . . . “Don’t worry,” I say, hoping she can hear me. “This is getting fixed. Right now.”
Aelia slides into the back seat and slams the door, the blue mist of her energy trailing behind her, showing her fear. “I can’t believe this. Kieran is such an asshole.”
I look at her in the rearview mirror, then pull out onto the road. “What the fuck were you thinking bringing the demi out in the open before the tribunal tomorrow?”
“I wanted to show off the goods a little. It’s going to be embarrassing for my father if no one shows up. I was only going to stay for an hour, and I was keeping an eye on her. It’s not my fault she ran off like that.”
I shake my head. Sometimes I forget that she’s basically just a flighty youth. “There is a way to go about this, Aelia. She needed to be sealed with a protector before running around LA.”
“Oh, come on, Faelan, you know that’s all just semantics. You already sealed that deal when you saved her in the fire.”
“I didn’t save her. I was keeping your father’s property from burning down.”
“And what, exactly, are you doing now, then?”
Very good question. “Aelia, if I can’t bring her back, we’re both fucked. The Cast will have us sequestered. We could end up in the Pit while Kieran gets off scot-free because of his godsdamn rank. We’ll be seen as the no-name bastards who lost an heir. It won’t just be brushed aside.” But it’s not just fear of the Cast that I’m feeling. Seeing Sage like this—I’m shaken. I can’t deny it. I actually give a shit about her. And it annoys the hell out of me.
“Daddy wouldn’t let anything happen to me,” Aelia says, pouting.
“I’ve worked with your father nearly half a millennium. I think I’d know what he’s capable of better than you.”
“Whatever, you love being his lapdog.” She folds her arms across her chest and leans back with a groan. “Where are we going, anyway?”
“Caledonia.”
She barks out a laugh. “Scotland? Are you serious? Nothing safe lives there.”
“I’m not looking for safe.”
We pull off the freeway and head down a side road. The cemetery is rolling hills on our left, an endless sea of green grass and white tombstones. Its morbid nature makes it oddly perfect for this moment. And I’m fairly sure it’s the closest passageway. We don’t have time to go to the one in Malibu.
I’ll never understand why humans bury their dead, thinking it helps a soul that’s already long gone from the empty husk. The reality is that dead flesh soils the spirit of the earth, the rot of decay seeping into the energy of root and grass and tree. It takes decades for the spirit to renew itself. But all that decay and death in one place also cracks a window in time and space. I appreciate how past cultures did things, especially the ones who laid their dead in caves. It makes the travel doors much more powerful and easier to utilize, like the catacombs in Paris: the bones of over six million souls below the city create a sizable doorway that’s become well traveled. This is no Paris gateway, but it should work with only three of us going through. I hope.
“I’m really not up for this,” Aelia says as we pull up the drive through the fields of the dead. “I don’t have the right shoes.”
I ignore her and keep driving deeper into the property. The Audi’s headlights are the only light now as we come around a turn, and I finally spot the road marker for the crypt up ahead. I’ve only been here once, about fifty years ago. At the time, the small stone structure was tucked back in the trees at the base of a hill. I can’t see it from here, but I recall it being only a few dozen yards from the road.
“Maybe you should just leave me here, and I’ll call my father to send a car,” Aelia says nervously.
“Hell, no.” I pull up along the curb and put the gearshift into park. “Get out.”