Chapter Twenty

The club buzzed with energy, and I realised everyone was celebrating the end of Becca. I pushed my way through the crowds and found a seat at the bar. A couple of people were on duty behind the bar, but I waited until Finn spied me.

“Little Miss Red,” he said, smirking. I stared at the moving dragon tattoo with a great deal of fascination. “Why so down?” he asked. “Haven’t you noticed it’s party time?”

“Is he here?” I looked up at Finn, and the twins popped into my head.

“He is. He’ll be on the floor shortly if you want to wait.”

I nodded, not knowing what else to do.

“Can I get you anything while you’re here? Something potent and sparkling, perhaps?” He laughed loudly at the reference to my passing out the last time I had taken a fae drink, but I couldn’t smile.

“Do you know any half-fae?” I asked.

The smile dropped from his face. “There are no half-fae. There’s no such thing.”

“Sure there is, I saw—”

“There are fae. There are non-fae. There is no in-between,” he said coldly, and I saw a whole other side to him. “I’ll get Gabe to hurry up.”

I sat mulling over his response for a few minutes until I smelled something wonderful, and someone tipped my arm.

“Follow me.” Gabe led the way to the darkest corner of the club, shooing a group of people out of the seats. He sat facing me.

“I’m glad you came,” he said. “Becca’s gone. Everyone’s happy. Or at least satisfied. Except for the British vampires, which is exactly how I like them. Now, about that other thing—”

“I need you to perform a blessing. A miracle,” I interrupted. “Like now.”

His forehead creased, and he sat back in his seat, searching my face.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“It’s not that simple. And it isn’t something you should ask for. It isn’t something anyone should ask for.”

“What kind of fecking angel are you, anyway?” I stood to leave, but he pulled me back into my seat.

“I told you I can’t interfere with the succubus,” he said steadily.

“I’m not asking you to do anything with any succubus. He’s mine. He’s sick. He needs a blessing. He needs anything that might help him. I dealt with Becca, I’m owed something in return.”

Gabe’s eyes seemed to soften a little, but it could have been my imagination. “He’s just a human. Not even an important one.”

“He’s my human. He’s my friend.”

“Ownership isn’t friendship.”

I made a weird, exasperated noise. “I don’t want to own him. I just want him to live.”

“Why do you care about him? What has he ever done apart from cause you trouble? He’s just a human, Ava. They breed constantly. Another will come along.”

I slapped my hands on the table in frustration. “Why can’t you understand this? He’s a friend. More than a friend. He’s family. I care about family. You can’t replace family, and he won’t survive me breaking the bond right now. I need him to be stronger so I can let him go.”

“You’ve replaced your grandmother with Eddie. What’s the difference?”

I sputtered my indignation. “I haven’t replaced her! And especially not with him. Look, even if you don’t understand what it means to have a heart, at least help me out. I’ll owe you for it. I’ll do anything. We’re desperate.”

“I don’t interfere with humans like that. I very, very rarely perform any kind of a blessing.”

I drummed my fingers on the table, trying to figure him out. “What was my mother like?” I asked, knowing the change of subject, and the question, would surprise him.

“That’s not fair, Ava. Not very angelic of you either.” But he smiled.

“I’m serious. My grandmother hated her, very rarely spoke of her. What was she like?”

“Loving. She was made to feel. When she was chosen to stay on Earth, it made her very happy. She envied humans, cared for them in a way most of us can’t.”

“Would she have helped me?”

“I don’t know. Probably. Somehow she managed to love the man who fathered you, and he was human. In that way, you’re a constant reminder of her, of how little I understood her. So I won’t help. Not for a human. A blessing is valuable. It costs me severely. I can’t give them away to a sub-species.”

“Very judgemental for some kind of holy being,” I said with a snort. “What will it cost for you to give Carl a blessing?”

“A lot,” he said firmly.

“Like what?”

He thought for a few minutes. “I need you to stop interfering with Coyle.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“I mean it,” he said, suddenly insistent. “Don’t get in the way.”

“So you know about them? The shadows?”

“I know some things, but I need to know more. I won’t find out what I need to know if you warn every suspect that you’re suspicious of them. Leave the thinking to the brains, little one.”

I made a face. “I’m keeping away from the Council. I can’t hack this crap.”

“Then Carl won’t get his blessing. I need these things from you, your loyalty and trust so that I can deal with this situation in my own way. And, as you’re so obsessed with it, I want you to deal with the child markets. A… prisoner went missing from our cells. I imagine she was taken to be sold. Dig into that and keep yourself busy for a while.” He tapped his chin, looking thoughtful. “Yes, do that. I could use the credit should anything good come of it.”

“Anything else?” I asked, feeling a little tremor of excitement for my next job. I had a feeling he was talking about Leah. The way she acted before she disappeared from the cell next to me before my trial made me think she was in on her own escape.

“Two more things. I need information on the rebels, if they even exist. I’ve heard they plan an uprising. They want to get rid of the Council and inspire anarchy. I need to know what plans exist, and if there’s anything to worry about.”

“Um, okay.” I hoped my cheeks didn’t flush too much. It seemed as though my goals and Gabe’s were the same, but for very different reasons. The word ‘anarchy’ sparked my interest in a whole new way. “And the last thing?”

He leaned forward, a new spark in his eyes. His excitement infected me until he spoke two words.

“Eddie Brogan.”

***

I waited nervously for Gabe to arrive, tapping on Carl’s hand as I counted in my head. Eddie had commented on the heavy price I must have paid to wrangle a miracle out of Gabe. I firmly reminded him it had been his idea in the first place and secretly wondered what outcome he had expected.

Peter paced and fidgeted incessantly. He still hadn’t spoken to me about the blood, and there was no way on the planet I would bring it up first. I tried to ignore how close I felt to him since I had drunk his blood. What drew me closer only served to push him away.

I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Gabe’s requests. His suspicion of Eddie was overwhelming. He wanted me to spy on the man whose house I was in, the man who had helped me and my friends multiple times. The man who had lied to me. The man I couldn’t trust. The man I kept turning to, depending on. I still didn’t know what to tell Peter, if anything, and my nerves were shot at the idea of spying.

I tried to distract myself with Carl. He looked a little better, and he could sit up if I ordered him to, but he was still gravely ill. I just hoped the blessing, whatever the hell it was, worked—and fast.

Peter took my hand away from Carl’s, surprising me. “You’re going to put a dent in his hand doing that,” he chided before dropping my arm as if it stung him. He turned his back and returned to the all-important job of pacing the room.

The tense atmosphere only tightened further when Gabe arrived. All four of us stood around Carl, distrust thick in the air.

We watched Gabe inspect Carl. He placed his hand on Carl’s forehead and closed his eyes. His eyeballs moved under his lids as if he searched for something. When he opened them, he looked surprised.

“What did you do to him?” he asked.

“What do you mean?” That frightened me. Had I made him worse?

“There’s something… never mind. I can help him. The effect won’t last long, but long enough for you to break your bond and allow him to heal naturally. It’ll hurt him. True pain that he won’t survive without help.”

“We know,” I said, disliking the reminder. As if I could forget. As if I wasn’t already dreading it.

“Fine. Stay back, and you should probably keep your eyes closed.”

I couldn’t close mine. I had to see what happened. Gabe knelt by Carl, his hands on Carl’s bare arm. He whispered, and his skin lit up. At first, it was a barely noticeable glow, but the light grew brighter until my eyes burned from it. I became used to the glare and could see Gabe clearly. Similar to the shadows clutching to a soul, except silvery white, they danced around him, streaming lights that dove in and out of Carl’s body. Not at all malevolent, the scene was breathtaking.

Gabe noticed me staring. He beckoned me over and told me to hold Carl’s other arm. With his free hand, he entwined his fingers with mine, and white-hot heat spread up my arm. He kept whispering, and slowly, the light passed into me, too. My skin lit up, just like Gabe’s. It felt perfect, like one single harmonious moment in my life, never to be had again. A kind of serenity flooded my mind, and I gazed at Gabe in awe.

“Give it to him,” Gabe told me. “Yours will be more potent for him now.” I wasn’t sure what he meant, but I tried. Just as when I had fed Carl my blood, I sensed something leaving me, as if I gave him a part of me. When the light flowed into Carl, his skin looked a little brighter, and his eyes opened. I caught a glimpse of a particular look, a have I died and gone to heaven sort of look, then he closed his eyes again, and a smile creased his lips.

By the time the light faded, my eyes were wet, because it was obvious the blessing had worked, and I felt clean, purer. Carl looked so much healthier, it was amazing.

“Give him a day, then try to release him,” Gabe said, rubbing his temples and looking absolutely drained. I felt a little shaky, too.

I gazed at Gabe in wonder, for the first time feeling something positive toward him. Then, he ruined it. “Don’t forget you have work to do,” he whispered.

“You can open your eyes now,” he told Eddie and Peter before he left, saying he needed rest. He looked so pleased with himself at their thanks, but he hadn’t done it out of goodness. I knew he had done it for personal gain. He wasn’t any better than most of the beings in our world, even if he liked to think so.

Carl awoke later that evening, and he seemed almost back to the way he had been the first time I had made him mine. He no longer had to lie in bed, and he got straight back into that annoying habit of offering himself to me. Peter stuck around and helped with Carl, but we still didn’t discuss the blood drinking. In fact, we didn’t talk at all. Perhaps that was for the best.