The Glass Man (23 page)

Rourke yanked me to my feet. I cursed under my breath as I strode along in front of him. Thoughts of what Parthalan might be doing to Donovan and the others threatened to overwhelm me, but I forced them away.
What the hell good is my Force of Will if everyone can turn off their brain to me?
It didn’t matter. I needed to defeat Parthalan, and my
cumhacht
wouldn’t work on him anyway.

“What’s this?” Rourke said. “No sarcasm? No jabs? No making fun?” When I said nothing, he added, “If you won’t talk to me, then maybe you’ll scream for me.”

Electricity charged through me. I screamed a high, piteous sound that came unbidden. Ripples of agony surged through my body. My back arched. Rage tainted his Light, intensifying it into something not only painful but terrifying, too.

I’d fallen to the ground at some point. He jumped on my back, grabbed a handful of my hair and twisted my face to the side. His warm breath washed across my ear as he panted—from exhaustion or maybe excitement.

“I’ve so longed to hear that beautiful sound from your lips, my pet. A taste of what’s to come between us. Once Parthalan breaks your bond with your precious Liam and takes you for his own, he wants nothing more than your power and to see you bow before him as his slave. The rest of you he has promised to me.” He licked across my ear, dark laughter grumbling in his chest as he righted me again.

Numbness consumed my body. With some effort, I managed to breathe in and out, to move one foot in front of the other. I had to keep moving or my courage would fail. I’d rather have fallen to my death in the canyon than become Rourke’s pain slut. If I failed, that would be my future. He might have intended to wear me down, to frighten me, but he strengthened my resolve instead.

Where are you, Liam?

No answer.

The time had come to break my rules. Rourke couldn’t be influenced by my will, but I could still break his body. I turned and dove at him, slamming him to the ground. My well of energy burst open. I pressed my knee into his chest and gripped his throat with my hand. Rourke stared up at me with hope shining from his eyes, face held tight with need. I shoved my will into his flesh, pictured his shins in a splintered, bloody mess.

The wet cracking of bones invaded my thoughts. Rourke cried out beneath me. His body jerked. I leapt up and hoofed him in the ribs twice while he screamed. He rolled over and drew his broken legs close to his body. Gurgled coughs rushed up his throat.

He moaned and angled his face up to stare at me—the kind of moan that belonged in the bedroom, not the sound a person should make after someone broke their legs and maybe a rib or two.

“Oh, my God.” I scowled. “You really are a fucking pain junky. You make me sick.”

“More.” A purr vibrated low in his chest. “Please.” He rolled onto his back. Wetness spread across the front of his jeans. The sight of him induced my gag reflex.

I hurt him, and he unloads in his pants. Fucking unreal.

“Go to hell.” I started up the street but stopped.

Rourke and I had drawn an audience to our little freak show. Wolves and Unseelie Sidhe lined the street with the purple light from the sky pulsing around them. Their power thickened the air into something that touched my skin like a warm, rough hand. Sluagh lined the rooftops and hovered above me. Every color of glowing eye stared in my direction.

Great.
Over, around, or through?

27

A Sluagh soared down from the sky. Bain, Lord of the feathered guys, landed on the cobblestone in front of me. “Where’s Rodan?” I sucked wind from the struggle with Rourke. Fear climbed my spine with prickly fingers. “I figured he’d have taken over your job by now.”

“He has been—demoted,” Bain hissed in his choppy way. By the uneasy shifting of the rest of the undead, I took it that demoted meant someone had killed his ass.

What a shame.

Bain tossed back his hood, revealing his ashen, bird-like face. He writhed and groaned as his black beak and feathers withdrew into his body. After a few seconds, what appeared to be a regular man with pale skin stood before me. His blazing orange eyes remained the same, and raven feathers covered his head. I found him handsome in a twisted sort of way. They were all fae at one time—could they still use glamour? How many Sluagh had I passed by in my life, not knowing what they were?

I stifled a shudder when I considered the implications.

“The king and I have come to a new arrangement.” Bain’s voice sounded normal, though low and a little hoarse.

Before I’d arrived, I’d considered the possibility of striking a bargain with the Sluagh. There went that idea. I’d just arrived, and Parthalan was already a few steps ahead of me. “What do you want?”

“You will come with me to the Court. After my last duty has been completed, the city will be divided, and we will no longer serve the king. I will rule Cargun, and the Unseelie will keep the rest of the Black City.”

Like hell I’d go with him. I surveyed my surroundings, wondering where the selkies had gone.
If you’re coming, now would be a good time.

Something moved on the right side of the street, but I didn’t turn to look in case the selkies were mounting an attack. Instead, I took a step and feigned pain in my leg. When I bent to rub my calf, I glanced along the row of houses. The one closest to me held its door halfway open. Scenarios played in my head. If I forced my will on all of the king’s minions, it would drain me, leaving me helpless for a few minutes—not something I wanted to be in the Black City. I didn’t even know if my
cumhacht
worked on the undead or if they’d all been warded against me. I couldn’t risk it.

Crawling inside a shape-shifter might leave me trapped, but I’d take it over an undead escort. If nothing else, I’d buy myself some time to think.

Bain stood a few feet away, turning his human fingers back and forth as if he didn’t see them often.

I sprinted toward the door just as it swung open farther. Howls and flapping wings erupted behind me as I dove through the opening. The door slammed shut behind me. Fists pounded against the outside of it.

“What now?” I yelled into the empty room. The red walls expanded and contracted as if it strained to breathe.

The floor opened and stairs formed down to the basement. I didn’t even hesitate. It could have been a trap, but at that moment, my instincts screamed at me to get the hell down those stairs.

The door crashed inward as my head sunk below the floor. The stairs disappeared, dumping me onto the basement floor. The hole in the ceiling sealed shut.

“Thank you.” I paced along the wall. “Now what?”

Right on cue, a hole opened in the red wall in front of me, revealing a tunnel, the end of it lost in the distance. If the passage went all the way to the Court …
sweet
. If not … oh boy.

“You’re the best.” I entered the tunnel, lit by dim red light. Had they’d stored some of the Light they gathered from the Unseelie? Maybe they’d been listening in on the fae that lived in them? That could prove useful.

Shouts punctuated the commotion outside. My thoughts conjured images of Willa, terrified as she faced the Sluagh, but I had to think of something else. She’d made her choice, and I’d made mine. I hoped I succeeded for all our sakes.

Goddess help them.

As I trudged on, memories of the last time I’d crawled through a tunnel haunted me: the copper scent of blood, the sounds of my mother’s cries, the blinding light seeping through the cracks in the floor above me, the sounds of the Glass Man’s laughter as he killed them all. I stopped for a moment, bent over and propped my hands against my knees.

Not now! I can be sad later when this is done.
A few shaking breaths calmed me, and I started forward again. Each time I passed into the bottom part of another shifter, I uttered my thanks and sent a little of my Light into their walls before passing through the next tunnel.

They jittered in response.

After several minutes, a stone wall appeared at the end of the passage. I sprinted toward it. A few feet before I reached the wall, another ward passed over my skin, similar to the one at the Conner farm—an invisible spider web. I didn’t have time to wonder what it was for but knew it had to be Sebastian’s. I allowed a little hope to push away the doubt that had taken hold of me. I never believed I’d make it, yet the wall had to lead to the castle of the Court.

Gathering power, I placed my hands against the cold stone. I had a suspicion it wouldn’t work, but I had to try. After conjuring an image of the wall exploding inward, I poured my will into the rock. Not only did it not break, but it sent an answering jolt of cold energy at me. I landed a few feet away on my back.

I roared my frustration at it. Lately, there didn’t seem to be any other way than ‘the hard way’. A sprint brought me back to the last shifter I’d passed through.

“I need something to break stone with.” I gestured with my hands. “A pick, an axe, a crowbar. Can you create something like that?” I’d seen them create furniture but never tools.

The house shuddered, but it seemed weak or maybe hurt from its sluggish vibration. I pressed my hands against the wall and fed it some of my Light. The sense of joy radiating from it did little to overcome its pain as its doors and walls took a beating from what I assumed to be my pursuers.

Shit.

My head thudded as I searched the room for anything that could break through that wall. I knew I didn’t have much time left. Even with the selkies distraction, there were too many Sidhe and at least a few hundred wolves on the surface. If that wasn’t bad enough, the Sluagh owned the skies. I had to stay underground and find a way to make it work.

The shifter groaned as a mass of oozing black liquid formed at my feet. Sickening, squishy noises and the tinny scent of blood filled my senses. Part of it hardened into a wooden handle. The metal head of the pick axe formed last.

“Perfect.”
My half-assed plan might work after all.
I snatched the axe and went back through the ward to the castle wall. I hacked away at the stone again and again, chipping away small pieces at a time. The dull roar of a fight grew louder. They’d broken through the outer wall of the last shifter. I hacked faster.

Sweat pearled on my forehead and trickled along my face as I worked. My shirt soaked through with it before I broke a big enough hole for me to crawl through head first. After checking the room beyond for movement, I shoved the axe through and climbed in after it.

“Liam,”
I thought at him,
“where are you?”

When I received no response, I decided to risk using my Sight. Sebastian’s ward would have clued him in to my arrival anyway. I thought of Liam, his touch, the pleasing lines of his face. Memories of his scent overtook me, coaxed a sigh from my lips.

Flashes of black marble filled my mind. Down corridors, up stairs, through rooms, my Sight travelled. I didn’t know what part of the Goddess lived in the castle, but whatever lent me its sight rested along the ceiling.

The vines.

I remembered seeing them during my first visit, how they snaked along overhead as I walked the corridors. I let my mind drift along their pathways.

I clutched my chest when I found Donovan, Garret and Liam shackled to an oozing stone wall, the same one I’d seen in Gallagher’s vision.

They’re alive.

“Liam!”
I called across the wind.

He looked up as if he could hear me—bloodied, swollen, broken. The door opened between us, startling a moan out of me.

“No, Lila! You—”

The connection dropped as quickly as it came. Something—or someone—cut him off. I had a suspicion that I’d have to destroy Sebastian before I’d get to his king.

Although Liam’s voice had been cut off, his Light still called out to me—one floor above, directly below the Unseelie Court.

Up the stairs I climbed, hugging the wall. My lungs ached as I concentrated to slow their heaving. A metal door with an ivory handle sat at the top of the steps. I grasped it and eased the door open a crack. The dim hallway lay still and silent. Not even a banshee slithered along the ceiling. I expected armies of Sidhe and Sluagh at the very least.

I crept out the door, searched both directions before I edged along the wall. The little voice in my head screamed warnings at me, but I had to keep going while I could. My instincts led me forward with the same ferocity they had led me into the valley toward Liam the first time. I didn’t resist the lure of his power; I opened myself to it, let it stoke my internal fire.

Every hallway I passed stood empty. No light shone beneath any doors. No footsteps echoed down the well as I climbed the winding staircase to the next floor.

The warnings screamed louder, but I trudged on, stalked low to the ground until I came to the door I’d been looking for. Moss and vines snaked through the top of it and ran in both directions down the marble ceiling. Energy flooded the space around it.

After a moment, I recognized where I stood—the hallway outside Parthalan’s bedroom.

Engulfed in the energy, I realized, with horror, that it didn’t taste the same as what Liam used to lure me to the Conner farm. It was darker, more potent.

My breath hitched in my throat, choking me. I ground my teeth together and leaned against the wall so I wouldn’t fall over. I’d travelled Parthalan’s path like a mouse in a maze, but instead of the cheese, I’d get a date with a psychopath. I’d been thinking myself a genius for finding a way through the horde outside, but they only served as obstacles in the puzzle. He knew I’d find a way around them so he cleared the path inside the castle and probably giggled while I let him reel me in.

Numbness saturated my flesh, and I dropped the pickaxe to the floor with a clank. The door swung open without a sound. I stepped through, and it closed behind me. One bright light shone from the ceiling in the middle of the room where a large glittering circle had been drawn on the floor. Little red droplets interrupted the glowing arc every few feet.

A shadow fell across the light. Echoes of vicious laughter induced a shiver in me. The acoustics made it hard to determine what direction it came from. I gnawed my lower lip while thoughts spun in my head.
Stay calm. This is what Mother trained me for.

“Come in, my darling,” Parthalan sang from the shadows.

“I think I’ll stay over here, thanks.” Having the door at my back gave me a sense of security, though part of me knew it was just an illusion.
No flying off half cocked, Lila.

Before I could think about what to do next, the door opened again. Torn with where to look, I backed toward the dressing room so I could see most of the room, or at least what little the light revealed.

Deep breaths, Lila. Don’t let him see you squirm.
I shook my head.
Great, now I’m talking to myself.
I hated having Parthalan out of my sight, but his presence pressed on my mind as it always did, giving me a general sense of where he was.

Sebastian came through the door first, holding one of Rourke’s arms. Bain held the other. They dragged the psycho piece of shit into the shadow toward where I thought Parthalan might be.

A few Sluagh entered behind them, along with a dozen or so fae I recognized from the Court. They spread out along the far wall beside the red princess bed, whispering and snickering.

My Light flared and pulsed a golden glow into the room.

A drunken laugh burst out of Rourke. With the addition of my Light, I could see him propped against the wall a few yards from where I stood. He giggled, his weasel face arranged around a lunatic grin as he stared up at Sebastian with wide, contented eyes.

“She broke his legs,” Sebastian said through clenched teeth. He slouched where he stood inside the circle at the end of the bed. He bowed to the far side, a bloody curtain of red hair tumbling forward.

There you are, Parthalan, you prick. Your peon just gave you away.
I couldn’t help but smile, but it didn’t last long. Knowing his location didn’t improve my situation much.

“Mmm, getting bolder I see.” Parthalan snickered. “Have your precious rules gone by the way at last?”

“Rourke doesn’t seem to mind, in case you hadn’t noticed,” I grumbled.

“No, in fact you gave him exactly what he wanted from you.” Parthalan’s bare feet slapped along tile.

Why isn’t he wearing shoes? Please, please, please let him have clothes on.

“I have a gift for you, my darling.”

“Keep it. I have all I need.”

“Oh, I think you’ll want this one.”

A scream preceded a scuffle in the hallway.

I turned my attention to the open door, afraid to see but couldn’t look away. My hair swept over my face, and I pushed it back with a shaking hand.

Cas, the plum-haired guard, came through the door towing two sagging forms shackled and draped in heavy iron chains. He wouldn’t meet my glare, and his lips folded into a deep frown. He lowered his cargo to the floor and disappeared into a dark corner of the room.

New and dried blood coated both of the fae on the floor. One didn’t move, the other wept softly.

“Donovan!” I dashed toward him, but Sebastian beat me there.

He held a black pistol to my unconscious father’s forehead. “Take another step, and he dies.”

Garret lifted his head from the floor. When his swollen eyes opened and landed on Rourke, he wailed and jerked in his chains. My mind wanted to haunt me with scenarios of what my brother had gone through in Mr. Psycho’s hands, but I couldn’t allow the distraction.