Dark Alpha's Embrace (11 page)

But no one was looking at her. They all stared at Kyran. River moved to her chair and sat. She went to the first book in the thirty and drew it into her lap while covertly observing Kyran.

He had an easygoing attitude now. One that hadn’t been there before, and by the way the others were acting, one they’d never seen.

Kyran looked up and met her gaze. “Ready?”

“Ready,” she said and settled back in her chair.

River was ready—for whatever came her way, regardless if it was Dark Fae, Bran, or anything else. She had strength she hadn’t had before.

Because of Kyran.

Chapter Thirteen

Bran was impatient. He should’ve killed Cael already. But it was enough that he slayed Baylon’s woman. Bran smiled, thinking about how Baylon’s bellow echoed around the flat that day.

How shaken Talin, Kyran, and Fintan had looked. The murderous expression on Eoghan’s face. The best part had been Cael. He’d been shocked and enraged.

Those images were what kept Bran focused. Thousands of half-Fae had already been killed—and he was just getting started.

Searlas strode toward him, his boot heels resonating throughout the empty room. It hadn’t taken much for Bran to convince the occupants of the manor to leave—and never return.

He stared out the window toward the North Sea and watched a storm rolling inland. By the way Searlas strode with heavy footfalls, Bran’s good mood would soon disappear.

As his lieutenant approached, Bran turned to face him. The occupants hadn’t just left the house, they also took all the furniture.

With a snap of his fingers, the study was filled with furniture, down to pictures on the walls and a roaring fire in the hearth.

Bran walked to the sofa before the fire and sat. A moment later, Searlas halted next to the hearth. “Spit it out,” Bran demanded.

“The men we sent out for the books never returned.”

What were the odds that the Reapers had been at the library? Next to none. Bran leaned back and spread his arms along the back of the sofa. “And the books?”

“It’s magic making them appear to be there, but they’ve been taken.”

Bran raised a brow as he turned his head to Searlas. “All of them?”

“The ones that you asked for, aye.”

His men dead and the books gone. Coincidence? Not likely. “Bring me the librarian. She’ll know something.”

“I looked for her. She’s missing.”

“Cael,” Bran said through clenched teeth.

How had the Reapers learned of the books? If they had them, then that put things in a new perspective. “Find Seamus. If anyone can locate these books, it’s him.”

“He’s not returned to his home. I told you he disappeared.”

“You told me he couldn’t be found.”

Searlas shrugged. “I went looking for him again.”

It took every effort Bran had to keep his calm. The element of surprise he had was now gone. The Reapers—and Death—knew he was after them.

But he still had something they didn’t—the need for vengeance.

Death obliterated the woman he loved. Bran was going to make Erith pay for such a transgression. Cael and Eoghan would experience their own special kind of torture Bran had thought of while he was in the Netherworld.

As for the rest of the Reapers, he would allow his army of Dark to kill them—while Death, Cael, and Eoghan watched.

Bran imagined how Baylon felt losing his woman. He would be nothing but trouble for Cael as Baylon struggled with the loss, anger, and helplessness.

“You’re smiling?” Searlas asked in confusion.

Bran nodded. “I killed Baylon’s woman. I know what he’s going through right now, and that pain trumps anything the Reapers might gain.”

“What’s the plan then?”

“No one else could’ve gotten those books or killed my men. Check on the other books on that list. There are thirty of them, but I can guess they’re all missing.”

“Which means the Reapers have them,” Searlas interjected.

“Precisely.”

Searlas crossed his arms over his chest. “How does the librarian factor into this? They wouldn’t need her.”

“You spoke with her?”

“No. She was helping someone else. It was another mortal I dealt with.”

Bran leaned forward and rested his forearms on his knees. “Is there any chance she’s half-Fae?”

“You know as well as I that half-Fae are beautiful. This woman was … plain. I’d have known if she had Fae in her.”

“Then where is she?” Bran asked. “Where would she go? She has no reason to vanish.”

Searlas lifted one shoulder in a shrug.

“We need to find her. Now.”

Bran listened to his instincts that were shouting for him to locate the librarian posthaste. He didn’t know why, but she was important.

The question was, did the Reapers know that as well?

*   *   *

Erith felt Cael’s eyes on her as she took her seat before Seamus. Warmth spread over her where his gaze touched. She refused to look his way, refused to acknowledge that she felt anything.

After Seamus’s confession about finding the Netherworld, she’d needed time alone. She left Cael in the tower and walked among her flowers—or so she told him.

That doorway Seamus found was created by her. It should’ve never been discovered by anyone. Erith went to Ireland to see the doorway for herself, and to her shock, something had changed.

It was now visible. Her magic wasn’t losing potency, so what would alter it? She didn’t have time to find the answer. Erith created another doorway to the Netherworld on her realm, then returned to Ireland and demolished the one Seamus used.

She didn’t like the idea of the doorway to the Netherworld attached to her realm, but she no longer had a choice. No one else could escape from the prison.

Erith added a shield around the doorway so that anyone who might attempt an escape would be trapped and she would be alerted. It was a quick fix until she could understand what happened to turn her doorway visible to any Fae.

“You look troubled,” Seamus told her.

She folded her hands neatly in her lap. “Your words trouble me. The Netherworld is a prison. Fae are sent there. No one wants to go.”

“But everyone wants to leave,” Seamus stated with a small smile. “No matter how secure, every prison can be broken out of. You just have to find the way.”

Unwittingly, Erith glanced at Cael to see his focus on Seamus. “And you found the way.”

Seamus twisted his lips. “I’ve always loved solving puzzles. The more difficult it is, the more I dig in.”

“That’s how you saw finding a way into the Netherworld?”

“Aye. That’s how I look at everything people ask me to locate for them. It’s a puzzle. I excel at them.”

“So I see.” She took a breath. “How did you find Bran?”

“I didn’t. He found me. I was in that place for only a few minutes, and I was turning to leave when someone shouted my name. I barely heard him over the roar of the wind. When he reached me, the wind and heat had burned off much of his skin and all of his hair.”

She didn’t flinch at the description. Erith knew exactly what the Netherworld could do to a person. “Was there anyone else with him?”

“No. I asked how he knew where the doorway was, and he told me he’d been looking for it.”

“So he saw it?” At Seamus’s nod, Erith felt as if she’d been ripped open by magic. This couldn’t be happening. In all her thousands of years, her magic had never failed her. Never.

Why had it now? All of this was her doing. She led Cael and Eoghan to believe she killed Bran. She hadn’t wanted to explain at the time why she put him in the Netherworld. Neither of the men would’ve cared that Bran would suffer untold tortures there. All they’d wanted was his death.

But Erith wanted to punish Bran in the most heinous way possible. All would’ve remained as it was had the doorway not been visible to the Fae. If it had remained hidden as it was supposed to have been, Seamus would’ve never found it, and he would’ve never helped Bran escape.

“My words have troubled you even more,” Seamus said.

Erith jerked her gaze to him. “Do you know who Bran is?”

“No. I searched for record of him in both the Dark and Light Fae, but found nothing. He told me I was lucky to have him as an ally and not as an enemy.”

She didn’t need to look at Cael to see his anger. It radiated off him in surges. “You’re also a liability to Bran.”

“Because I released him,” Seamus said with a nod. “I’ve already thought of that.”

“He’ll likely kill you.”

Seamus raised his brows and looked around the room. “I suspect that would be difficult here.”

“Why do you say that?”

“I like puzzles, remember? Anyone with a brain would soon realize you’re much more than a beautiful face. As nice as this chamber is, we’re not on the Fae realm.”

Erith didn’t want to like him, but Seamus had a way about him that drew people in. No wonder he’d done so well for himself. “And for a Dark Fae, you’ve not been able to take your eyes off my flowers.”

“I’m a complicated Fae,” he replied with a smile. “Has it come time for you to tell me who the Fae is standing behind me? At first, I thought he might be here to guard you, but now I’ve come to the conclusion that he’s here because of me.”

She gave a nod to Cael who wasted no time in walking toward them. Erith would never admit it, but she loved watching him. Cael moved with lethal grace in everything he did. Even before she approached him to be a Reaper, she’d watched him, utterly enthralled.

Cael was a warrior, through and through. Deadly accuracy, alarming skill, and terrifying brutality. He was also fair and honest. A perfect combination.

He halted a few feet from her, but even that made Erith uncomfortable. Anytime they got close, she chanced forgetting the boundaries set. He made her forget everything—but him.

“Bran is my enemy,” Cael said. “He killed my friends, and now that he’s loose, he’s coming after my group again.”

Seamus rested his hands on his knees as he regarded Cael. “I know that look about you. Bran has it as well. Neither of you will be satisfied until one of you is dead.”

“All I need is him dead,” Cael said. “Bran wants me and my men lifeless. He’s set about killing any half-Fae he can find.”

Erith affirmed Cael’s statement by saying, “Thousands of half-Fae have been killed in a matter of days. Bran has wiped out entire families.”

“Because of Fae blood?” Seamus asked in alarm.

Cael snorted. “You’ve no idea what you let out of the Netherworld. Did it never occur to you that those Fae are put there for a reason?”

“What’s your name?”

“Cael.”

Seamus scratched his temple. “Well, Cael, you and I both know innocents get put in prisons all the time. How was I to know Bran wasn’t one of those?”

“How dare—”

“Enough,” Erith said over Cael. “What’s done is done. It can’t be reversed or changed. All we can do is stop any more damage.”

Seamus looked between the two of them before he focused on Erith. “Is this where you have him kill me?”

“If I wanted you dead, I’d kill you myself. I don’t need Cael for that.”

“But you do need him.”

Erith chose to ignore Seamus’s statement. “I’m going to offer you a place among us. This offer comes only once.”

Seamus’s red eyes were filled with intelligence as he looked at Cael. “How am I supposed to respond when I don’t even know who any of you are?”

Erith stood. “I’m Death. And Cael is leader of the Reapers.”

Chapter Fourteen

Kyran listened as River read aloud from the first book. He, Talin, and Baylon jotted notes. Normally Kyran liked to be out doing something instead of being cooped up, but this was different.

This was listening to River’s amazing Scot’s brogue as she read from a Fae book. Every so often, she’d look up and smile at him.

He knew the others saw, and he didn’t care. River was helping them, just as Jordyn had. If Death had an issue with that, then Kyran had a ready argument.

It took hours for River to get through the first book. Her voice was hoarse, but she didn’t complain. She rolled her neck from side to side before she rose and walked to Jordyn who was on her computer.

“Jordyn recorded her,” Baylon said. “Next Jordyn is going to scan in the pages of the book.”

Kyran frowned. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? One copy of these is enough. What if the file gets out?”

“What if the books are taken from us?” Talin asked.

They had a point, but Kyran still wasn’t sure about having the books on the computer either. They needed to keep them out of Bran’s reach—or everyone’s, really. Having more than one copy could come back to bite them in the arse.

“Kyran.”

He turned to find Fintan behind him. Kyran rose from the stool and followed Fintan out of the library and down the tunnel. “What is it?” he asked when Fintan finally halted.

“Is there something going on between you and River?”

“Aye. Is that what you called me out here for?”

Fintan’s white eyes stared at him for a long moment. “Does River know it’s your family hunting hers?”

Kyran glanced away with a sigh. He put his hands on his hips and shook his head. “I tried to tell her last night, but I couldn’t get the words out. I’m embarrassed to tell her it’s my family.”

“Embarrassed? Or worried that she’ll hate you once she learns the truth?”

There was that as well. Kyran regarded Fintan. As the only two Dark Fae in the Reapers, they had bonded quickly. Fintan kept everyone at a distance, but out of all of them, Kyran was the closest to him.

“You weren’t a fan of Jordyn at first, either.”

Fintan’s face remained impassive. “I like River fine. I don’t think there is a place for women in our group.”

“It’s just been by happenstance that the Reapers have always been men. I think if Death found the right female, that would change.”

“Be that as it may, having attachments changes the dynamic.”

Kyran dropped his arms to his sides. “I know.”

“I watched the Nighttails today,” Fintan said, changing the subject. “That family rivals yours for being messed up. It’s a good thing you helped Maiti. Her father and brothers have let it be known that she’s to be killed on sight for her embarrassing behavior.”