One of their own had ceased to exist.
One of their own had been killed.
By me/Barrons/us.
I was choking, sputtering, trying desperately to breathe, and I realized with horror that it wasn’t the Barrons/Mac persona that was choking. It was my body.
I pulled back, yanked back, stumbled back, ripped myself from Barron’s mind. It wasn’t easy to untangle us.
His hand was on my throat.
Mine was on his.
“What the fuck?” V’lane exploded. It was the most human sentence I’d ever heard him utter. He’d been watching us but had no idea what had happened.
Our battle had been a private one.
Barrons and I stared at each other.
We released each other’s throats at the same moment.
I backed up a step.
He didn’t. But then, I hadn’t expected him to.
“You really can kill V’lane!” I exclaimed. “That’s why he won’t let you near him. You can kill him. How?”
Barrons said nothing. I’d never seen him so still, so silent.
I whirled on V’lane. “How?” I demanded. I was shaking. Barrons could kill Fae. It was no wonder the Shades left him alone. “Did he have the spear or the sword?” But I knew in my bones that it had been neither of those weapons. The wall he’d thrown up had shielded the answer. Whatever weapon he’d used, it was not one I knew.
V’lane said nothing.
“What does he have on you?” I cried, exasperated.
“Decide, Ms. Lane,” Barrons said, behind me.
“Choose,” V’lane agreed.
“Go to hell, both of you! New world. New rules. New me. Don’t call me. I’ll call you.”
“To call me, you will require my name back,” V’lane said.
“So it can fail me again when I need it?”
“It failed only during that brief time when all magic was down. Such a moment is impossible to sustain. Darroc will not attempt it again. He does not need to. He achieved his end.”
“I’ll think about it,” I said. And I would. All weapons. Good.
Something clattered to the floor at my feet. It was a cell phone.
I didn’t turn. “What’s that for? Duh, no towers, remember?” I mocked.
“It works,” said Barrons. He paused heavily, the better to emphasize his coup de grâce. “It always did.”
My breathing stopped. What he was saying was not possible. I spun, searched his eyes. “The power was down! My call to Dani was disconnected. I never got service back!” I knew. I’d kept checking all night.
He moved toward me so quickly, I didn’t see him coming and had no chance to react. His body was pressed to mine, his lips were against my ear.
I leaned into him and inhaled. I couldn’t help myself.
He whispered, “O ye of little faith. Not for IYD.”
It was the number he’d programmed into my cell, which stood for If You’re Dying.
“But you didn’t even try.”
His tongue touched my ear. Then he was gone.
I sat on the edge of the sofa, rubbing my eyes. I needed sleep in the worst way, but I suffered few illusions that I was going to get any.
My encounter with V’lane and Barrons had left me too wired for words, and soon the abbey would be waking up, and I’d have a whole new set of challenges to face.
I stroked the glittering beauty of my spear.
True to form, V’lane had returned it when I’d demanded he leave. After reassuring myself with its comforting weight, I tucked it back into my shoulder holster.
I toed my old backpack over by the strap and dug around in it for my journal. I was surprised to find it. I thought someone would have confiscated it. I figured it was a pretty safe assumption both Rowena and Barrons had read it.
I rubbed the embossed leather cover, grateful to see it again, as if it were an old friend. Since Alina had been killed, I’d filled three notebooks with feelings, speculations, and plans. At first, I’d begun keeping a journal as a sort of tribute to her, a way to somehow connect to her memory.
Then I’d learned I could pour my grief into its pages, instead of hurting my parents with it. Finally, I’d discovered what my older sister had known all along: that it was an invaluable tool for sorting thoughts, clarifying and refining them, and planning future action.
God, I missed her! What I would give to sit and talk with her again! To hug her and tell her that I loved her. Since her death, I’d realized how few times I told her what she meant to me. I’d always assumed she knew, that we’d have decades together, planning each other’s weddings, having baby showers, sending our children off to school together, taking pictures at their proms: a lifetime of sisterhood. I steeled myself. No time for emotion. When this was all over, I would wallow in grief. I would make V’lane give her back to me again, in Faery. I would grant myself the balm of illusion. When all this was over, I would deserve it.