High Voltage (Fever #10)

     It’s my turn to blink. Okay, either the Sinsar Dubh is playing a deep game because it wants the stones or it’s really Mac and she’s finally wised up.

She locks eyes with me. Tiny little dots of crimson appear in the corners then vanish. “I know I killed,” she says in a low voice. “And I get that you don’t want to tell me. I scrubbed before you came. I know what I must have done to end up that way. Please, Christian, you have to neutralize me.”

“It’s what I came for, lass.” I extend my hand. When she rushes toward me, I flinch, because I also feel a dark wind rushing at me, a chilling, icy, voracious dark wind that then slices into me even more savagely than the biting wind in the Unseelie prison, chilling my already too cool heart. But she takes my hand and hers is warm, and she doesn’t slap any runes on me so I focus on Chester’s and blink us off into that strangely malleable liminal place the Fae can access and we’re gone.



* * *



π

When we reappear in Ryodan’s office, she says nothing at first, just stands and spins, her face lighting up as she observes Barrons, Jada, and Fade. She exhales gustily and seems to relax, like she’s taking her first deep breath in a long time.

Then she locks gazes with Barrons and says nothing for several long moments, and I somehow know they’re having an entire conversation without speaking.

Christ. The emotion I see, hell, can almost feel in the molecules of air between them—it convinces me like nothing else could that this is really Mac. I observe Barrons curiously. Does he feel? Is he capable of it? I can’t get a solid read on him but the abyss that I felt within him previously is abruptly no longer empty.

     She fills it somehow. And in the filling, redefines it. And him.

Her face changes then, and she scowls. “I said, who did I kill, Barrons? Don’t lie to me.”

“It doesn’t matter,” he says.

“Every life matters.”

“You killed only Unseelie and a single sidhe-seer.”

“Who?” she snaps.

Barrons shrugs. “I don’t know.”

“Describe her,” Jada demands.

When he does, Jada murmurs, “Margery,” to Mac.

Mac drops her head and deflates.

Barrons moves toward her and she stiffens and draws back. “Don’t touch me. You have to contain me with the stones. I think it’s asleep but I suspect it won’t be long and I have no idea what will happen then.”

“Mac,” he says softly, “I need to touch you so I can get inside—”

“No!” she snaps. “Lock me down first, then touch me if you want to.”

“I might not be able to reach you then,” he snaps back.

“You’re going to have to risk it. I know what the thing is capable of. I feel it inside me. Not right now, but I felt it when it took me. It’s…amused by suffering. It feeds on it, thrives on it, draws energy from it. It’s beyond sadistic and sick but it’s floundering right now. It’s not at its strongest. But it will be soon.” Her head whipped to Jada. “The cuff is what was keeping the ZEWs from being able to find you. Never take it off. I don’t know what the Book did to the Sweeper. It could be out there still.”

     “It sent it back in time,” Jada says quickly.

“Fuck! So that part of the legend was true, it can manipulate time.” Mac explodes: “Lock me down now!”

Barrons is on her. He simply vanishes then reappears with his hands on her shoulders, as if he, too, can sift. What the fuck are the Nine? Rather, ten, now. Great, Dageus was a handful before. Now he’s out there somewhere and able to move like the Nine. If he hunts, nothing will see him coming.

They both freeze for a long moment, Mac looking up, Barrons looking down. Then she says softly, “You’ll figure something out. This won’t be permanent. Or maybe I’ll figure something out. But you have to do it. I can’t guarantee that if I kill myself, it won’t simply jump to another body. Please, Jericho, don’t let me kill anyone else. I don’t want to live with the death of people I love on my conscience. I don’t want to live with the fate of the world on it. I can’t. This is the only way and you know it.”

“Hush,” he says softly and closes his eyes.

“Jericho, don’t,” she says. “I don’t know what it might do to you. Don’t go inside me after it.”

“Fucking trust me to be able to survive.”

“I can’t carry your death,” Mac says. “It would turn me into the same kind of monster that inhabits me. Once before I was willing to destroy the world just to get you back!”

He opens his eyes and a faint smile curves his lips. “I know,” he says, dark eyes glittering.

“That is not a good thing,” she hisses.

“In my book it is.”

“Well it’s bloody well not in mine,” I growl. “You heard her. Barrons, give us the stones.” If he doesn’t, I’ll be on him in seconds, take them from him.

     They ignore me. Jada stands, watching them with apparent fascination.

“Fucking try to relax, Mac,” Barrons growls. “Let go. You’ve got walls up. Drop them,” he demands. He opens his eyes, his dark gaze boring down into hers.

She locks her jaw and stares stubbornly up.

“Mac,” he says softly. Then his eyes say something to her I can’t read, but whatever it was, her lips curve with a slow smile of delight. “I thought you didn’t believe in words,” she says with a husky laugh.

“I believe in you. And sometimes you’re so obtuse I’m forced to resort to them. Let me in.”

With a soft sigh, she closes her eyes and goes limp against him, melding their bodies together.

And that’s when all hell breaks loose.





DELETED MAC/RYODAN SCENE FROM FEVERSONG:


“She kissed me. She wanted…” He trailed off.

I shot him a venomous look. “Tell me you did not have sex with Dani.”

“Of course I didn’t,” he growled.

I said indignantly, “Well, why not? What’s wrong with Dani? You sleep with everyone else.”

He gave me a blank look that turned instantly to annoyance. “You don’t get to have it both ways, Mac. You can’t be pissed at me because you think I did it then get pissed at me because I didn’t. What the fuck’s with that?”

“It’s the principle of the thing,” I said, scowling. “Dani shouldn’t be sleeping with you, at least not now. But how dare you reject my girl? She’s the best thing you could ever hope to get.”

     “You think I don’t know that?” Then he said softly, “She’s a virgin.”

“Oh!” Thank God. A knot I hadn’t even been aware of in my stomach loosened. I’d been so afraid she’d had it taken from her as a child, or taken from her Silverside, or given it away as coolly and impersonally as a porn star. “Wait,” I said, scowling again, “so that’s the only reason you didn’t?”