Indebted: The Premonition Series (36 page)

“I’m not sure—awhile—nearly a day. You just missed Brennus. He was here for most of the time with you, but he had to deal with all the issues,” she says. “You know, I think it’s kind of hard to be an evil emperor. Everyone wants his attention. He had to change all the plans now. We were all set to have this huge surprise birthday party for you, and now everyone is packing up their gear for the move instead. So, I might as well give you your present now.” Molly says, tossing a small, wrapped gift onto my lap. I let it sit there as I gaze at it dumbly.

“What?” I ask.

“Happy Birthday, Eaves,” Molly grins, watching me as she hugs one of the tall posts at the foot of my bed.

“We’re leaving?” I ask, latching onto the most important information she imparted.

Molly nods, “Yeah, soon. I think we’re going to do the tribute thing for Lachlan, and then we’re gone,” she says casually, watching me to see if I’ll open her gift.

“Lachlan,” I breathe, remembering him hitting the ground with shafts of arrows peppering him. Tears immediately spring to my eyes.

Molly shrugs, “They’re having some kind of funeral thing for him. The way Finn described it to me, it sounds kind of Arthurian–or Viking. They’re having a funeral pyre–it’s a Faerie rite,” she explains.

“When?” I ask.

“Today, before we go,” she says. “Are you okay? You look pale again. Do you need something to eat?” she asks, looking concerned.

“No, I’m fine,” I lie, giving a ghost of a smile.

“Aren’t you going to open it?” Molly prompts me, seeing me frozen on the bed. “Nineteen. I bet you never pictured yourself here a year ago,” she says, holding her arms out palms up. “Nineteen–medieval castle–undead friends…”

“Uh, yeah. Surprise, right?” I agree feebly, while numbly opening the silver paper.

I unwrap the package and lift the lid of the small box. I push the tissue aside and blink back tears again. My fingertips glide tentatively over the blood-red jewel, shaped like a shield in a platinum setting. Next to the red diamond, strung on the same necklace, is my Uncle Jim’s class ring that I had given to Reed last Christmas. “How?” I ask breathlessly.

“They came with all of your stuff. I found them when I was going through the items for your room. I was afraid that Brennus wouldn’t let you have them, because it’s obvious that Reed gave you that necklace. It’s worth a large fortune—not something you would buy for yourself. And then, I had sent you your uncle’s class ring for Christmas last year, remember? You said you had someone you wanted to give it to. Two and two equals four,” she smiles.

“I don’t understand. I thought…” I trail off.

One of Molly’s eyebrows quirks. “Ohhh, you thought I’m one of ‘them,’” she says. “Well, I am and I’m not. I’m not a Faerie, so that makes me…more the calibre of a vampire because I was human once, not Faerie. You’ve seen what they think of vampires,” she says, rolling her eyes. “But, since I’m Finn’s vampire, they treat me like a pet…but not really an equal.”

“So you’re saying that if you’re not ‘one of them,’ then you’re free to do whatever you want?” I ask, seeing the gleam in her eyes.

“Dat’s right,” she agrees, sounding just like a fella. “I’m me own island—human-Gancanagh. Ye jus say da word and I’ll give ye a get-outta-jail-free card.”

“What?” I ask, exhaling my breath in a rush.

“Ye heard me. Do ye need more tellin’?” she asks with
faux
menace, as she lets her fangs shoot forward with a
click
. “Ye look like a tasty morsel and I promise na ta have more den a wee nip of ye.”

“They will kill you, Molly, if you break the contract,” I whisper, afraid for her. I look towards the door, just to make sure that no one is listening to us.

“They would try,” she responds honestly, giving me the cheeky smile that always accompanies the arrogance of the Gancanagh, while retracting her fangs.

“No way,” I reply, shaking my head. “Why would you even consider that?” I ask and I feel scared even talking about it out loud. If someone hears her, she is done.

“You almost died—for real. Not undead and happy, but dead and buried,” she whispers. “You weren’t even the one hit. It was Brennus. How are you supposed to defend yourself against that? Finn said the Fallen will be back for you
or
Brennus because it doesn’t matter. Hit one and you both fall. I just want to give you some better odds. Finn seems to think they can handle it, but I saw those Werree,” Molly shudders, looking a little haunted.

“You can’t help me,” I say, clutching her gift in my fist. “But, I will never forget that you offered.” I crawl from beneath the blanket to the other end of the bed, hugging Molly where she stands by the post. “And I will never forget your gift to me either.”

“You’re my family,” Molly whispers, and I nod my head, unable to respond at all because my throat is too tight. “You and Finn.”

“I love you—even if you’re a vampire,” I whisper.

Molly laughs softly at my joke. “And I love you—even if you’re a half-breed,” she whispers back.

“When is the funeral for Lachlan?” I ask, pulling back, but having a hard time seeing through my tears.

“Soon. Do you plan on going?” she asks. “Everyone is expecting that you will miss it because of your injuries. It takes you forever to heal,” she teases me.

“Yeah, well, I had to wait for Brennus to get better before I could, so I can only move as fast as what’s in front of me,” I reply with
faux
defensiveness. “I need to go to the funeral–tribute thing. He was my…personal guard—my friend,” I say, swallowing past the aching lump in my throat.

“Okay. I’ll go with you. Get ready and I’ll meet you back here. Wear a coat. I had them modified to fit your wings. It’s going to be out by the cliffs,” she says. “You still get cold, don’t you?”

I nod, “You?” I ask.

“Not so much,” she says, shaking her head. “Formal attire?” she asks.

“I’m betting they won’t be in jeans and trainers,” I reply. I only ever see the Gancanagh in tailored suits or elegant attire since coming to the castle. They dressed down when they were in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan, but I think that was so they would blend in there.

“I wouldn’t wear the present I gave you, Eaves,” she warns as she walks to the door. “He might freak.”

“You think?” I ask her sarcastically, hearing her giggle as she leaves Brennus’ room.

Going to my closet, I pull out a silk robe and wrap myself in it. I stash my necklace and ring that Molly gave me into one of my shoes. I walk to the outer door that leads to the hallway and find Declan and a score of Gancanagh that I vaguely know waiting for me outside.

Surprised to find so many of them, I try to recover as I turn to Declan and say, “I need your help, Deck.”

Surprise flickers in his eyes as he glances at Faolan, and then he pushes himself off the wall he had been leaning against. I hold the door wide for him, allowing him to enter my sitting room. Leaving the door open, we sit down in the chairs that face each other.

“I need to go to Lachlan’s tribute, but I don’t know what I should wear or what I should do to honor him,” I explain. “Can you help me?” I ask.

“Why?” he asks, looking puzzled.

“Because he was my friend—because it’s my fault that the Werree murdered him,” I reply, looking away as a tear escapes my eyes. I clench my teeth, trying really hard not to cry again.

“’Tis na yer fault, lass. Ye pulled us all back. We would’ve all walked through dat door wi’out ye figuring it out,” Declan says in a gentle tone.

“They were there for me,” I reply, gazing in his eyes.

“And ye took care of dem, did ye na?” he says with a look of admiration and respect.

“I did,” I reply, and he smiles. “So, will you help me?” I ask again.

“I will,” he replies. “Ye go take yer shower and put on a nice dress. Den, meet me in here and I will get ye ready for it. I’ll order ye some food, too. Ye still look pale.”

“Look who’s talking,” I tease him tiredly, before getting up from the chair to do as he instructed.

I shower and then put on a sleek, black dress that allows my wings to be out. I select the matching coat from the closet and impulsively retrieve the necklace and ring Molly had given me, shoving them in the pocket of my coat.

I lay my coat over the back of the chair in the sitting room before I sink into the chair facing Declan again. He has a pot of an inky, dark liquid that looks a lot like henna waiting on a small table near us. A wooden, pen-like implement rests inside the pot.

Picking up the pen, Declan says, “Dis is da story of Lachlan’s life, his death, his rebirth as a Gancanagh and his final battle.” Using the pen, Declan begins drawing lines upon my face, stopping occasionally to dip it in the pot. “We would do dis ta da wife, mother, and sisters of da warrior dat died, so dat dere tears would wash away da pain of dis life, making him clean ta face his next life.”

“This is a Faerie ritual, not a Gancanagh rite?” I ask.

“’Tis Faerie,” he replies, continuing to work as I try not to cry and ruin what he has already done.

It takes a long time to apply all of the symbols. When Declan is finished, he holds up a mirror for me to see what he has done. My face resembles an intricate labyrinth of interconnected lines and rune-like symbols. I look textured, in a way: pagan and otherworldly. The lines trace down my neck and on my hands and arms.

“Are ye ready?” Declan asks me, and I nod, swallowing the last bit of food he had ordered for me. “Den, we should go downstairs. Dere will be a processional out ta da cliffs.”

“I said I’d wait for Molly,” I reply.

“I’ll send someone ta fetch her,” he says.

We step out in the hallway and Declan quietly speaks to one of the fellas. The rest of the fellas stare at me like I’m an alien. Fidgeting a little, I begin counting them. There are fifteen that I can see. I recognize some of them: Torin, Goban, Ninian, Faolan, Lonan, Alastar, and Cavan.

“Faolan,” I say, making eye contact with him and trying not to tear up. “Thank you,” I murmur in a half-whisper. Brennus said he helped him against the Werree, saving our lives.

Faolan nods, looking pleased.

“Where is Eion?” I ask Declan, not seeing him.

“He will guard Brennus from now on,” Declan replies gruffly, like he approves of the change. “We should go.”

I walk in the center of a swarm of fellas, following Declan to the front doors. As I step outside, the air blows crisp and damp against my cheeks. I put my coat on, tying the belt tight. Molly sidles up to me, whispering in my ear, “Nice tattoos, half-breed.”

“Jealous, vampire?” I ask with a ghost of a smile, hearing her smother a giggle.

“Hey, I picked this up for you on the way through the hall. It was delivered this morning,” she says, handing me another wrapped box.

“What is it?” I inquire, looking at the small, blood red box with a bow that resembles my angel wings.

She shrugs. “Another birthday present. They checked it. It’s not ticking,” she says, grinning.

“Who is it from?” I murmur.

Molly frowns, “I don’t know. Maybe there’s a card inside, but I’m sure it’s for you. Look at the wings,” she replies. “Open it.”

I unwrap the bow from the box and lift the lid. Reaching in it, I pull out a large, golden compact. My heart begins to pound in my chest as I feel the cold metal in my hand. On the lid of the compact, there is a set of ruby encrusted angel’s wings. It is exquisite…exquisitely evil…a Trojan horse.

“Oh, it’s make-up. That’s kind of fierce,” Molly says, seeing the gift. She takes the box from me as I hold the compact in my hand, studying it numbly. “I don’t see a card. It’s probably from Brennus. Maybe we should put it back in the box, so he can give it to you.”

“It’s not from Brennus,” I reply, putting the compact into the pocket of my coat and feeling myself growing pale. “It’s not make-up. It’s a mirror.”

“Oh, very swank,” she smiles absently, looking around for a place to set down the box. She stashes it behind a towering gargoyle.

Shoving my hands in my pockets, I can feel my gifts from the angels. In my right hand, I hold my necklace from Reed. In my left hand, I can feel the smooth, gold metal of the compact from Casimir—the portal that will link me to him when I open the lid and allow him to pass through it to me.

“
Mo chroí
,” Brennus breathes near my ear and I jump.

As I turn to look at him, my heartbeat picks up for a different reason than being scared. Brennus looks like a pale, Greek god who has come down from Mt. Olympus to grace us with his presence. On his head is a golden crown that resembles a laurel wreath. The gold against his black hair is striking, making me want to reach out and touch it.

“Whah are ye doing here?” he asks with concern in his tone. “Ye should be resting. I’ll see ye back upstairs.”

“No,” I say, stepping back as he tries to guide me back inside. “I need to go—to say goodbye to Lachlan. Please?” I ask, feeling almost desperate. I can’t even tell him why it’s important to me. My emotions are so chaotic and taut. I feel frayed. I think he realizes this because he pulls me into his arms, hugging me tight.

“Ye do Lachlan a great honor by mapping his story. Ye are his queen and ’tis a sign of great respect dat ye mourn his loss,” Brennus says, rubbing my back under my wings. I have to choke back the tears again, so I just nod to what he is telling me.

“Will ye walk with me out ta da cliffs?” Brennus asks and I nod again. I look up at his face and I’m shocked to see his radiant smile. He looks completely happy and I feel confused because we are walking to a funeral.

Brennus’ arm wraps more firmly around my back as we walk together towards the cliff and the sea. Fellas surround us, strolling at a respectful distance, but forming a barrier so that we’re well protected. Machine-gun and rocket-launcher toting Gancanagh are posted at different intervals along the way to the cliffs, bringing awareness to the fact that there are lethal threats to me and anyone who shelters me.

Nearing the cliffs, I catch my first glimpse of Lachlan. He is lying on an altar of fallen stone. They dressed him in a suit of ancient, silver armor and in his hands he holds the diamond-headed spear that I had held with him in the archive room. My throat immediately closes as tears fall from my eyes.