Faefever Part 4

What other secrets did her diary contain, besides unflattering personal insight into me? Had she written about the location of any of the Hallows or relics we needed? Did someone else know about the Sinsar Dubh, Sinsar Dubh, and how it was moving around? Were I and my anonymous foe both hoping to track it the same way? and how it was moving around? Were I and my anonymous foe both hoping to track it the same way?

The phone began to ring, a local number. I ignored it. Everyone that mattered to me had my cell phone number. Seeing Alina's handwriting, hearing her words spoken aloud in my mind, as I'd read them, had left me feeling raw. I was in no mood to talk books to a customer.

The phone finally stopped ringing, but after a three-second pause, began again.

The third time it started ringing, I picked it up, just to shut it up.

It was Christian MacKeltar, wondering what had happened to me the other night, and why I hadn't returned any of his calls. I could hardly tell him it was because I'd been a little busy being driven to my knees by a sentient Book; watching my murderous employer tote a dead body around; serving addictive, cannibalistic tea to a homicide detective in order to turn him into my informant, then steering him around the city, forcing him to see monsters; and just now, reading up on how my sister had loved having s.e.x with the very monster responsible for bringing the rest of the monsters through to our world.

No, I was quite certain all of that would only alienate a man I was hoping might prove a valuable source of information.

So I offered him a colorful bouquet of lies, and made a new date with him for tonight.

By the time I left to go see Christian, Barrons still hadn't put in an appearance, and I was glad. I wasn't ready to face him yet.

As I locked up the bookstore, I scanned the Dark Zone. Three Shades toed the edge of the light. The rest slithered and slid in the shadows. Nothing had changed. Their prison of darkness still held.

I turned briskly to my left and headed for Trinity College, where Christian worked in the Ancient Languages Department. I'd met him several weeks ago, when Barrons had sent me to pick up an envelope from the woman who ran the department. She hadn't been there, but Christian had.

Then we'd run into each other a second time, a week ago, in a pub, where he'd stunned me by telling me he'd known my sister, and even knew what she and I were. Our conversation had been rudely interrupted by Barrons, who'd called to warn me Hunters were in the city, and told me to return to the bookstore. I'd been planning to call Christian the next day and find out what else he knew, but on my way home, I'd been cornered by Hunters and abducted by Malluce and, needless to say, I'd had my hands a little full battling for my life. Then, the other night, the debilitating appearance of the Sinsar Dubh Sinsar Dubh had prevented us from meeting again. I was anxious to find out what he knew. had prevented us from meeting again. I was anxious to find out what he knew.

I pushed my curls back from my forehead and fluffed them with my fingers. I'd dressed up again tonight, wound a brilliant silk scarf through my hair and tied it, letting the brightly colored ends trail over my shoulder, and drape softly in my cleavage. I was nothing if not determined; at least twice a week I would wear bright, pretty clothes. I was afraid if I didn't, I'd forget who I was. I'd turn into what I felt like: a grungy, weapon-bearing, p.i.s.sy, resentful, vengeance-hungry b.i.t.c.h. The girl with long blond hair, perfect makeup, and nails might be gone, but I was still pretty. My shoulder-length Arabian-night hair curled flatteringly around my face, complementing my green eyes and clear skin. Coupling red lipstick with my darker 'do made me look older, s.e.xier than I used to.

I'd chosen clothes tonight that hugged my curves and showed them to their best advantage. I was wearing a cream skirt, with a snug yellow sweater in honor of Alina (beneath a short, stylish, cream raincoat that concealed eight flashlights, two knives, and a spear), high heels, and pearls. Dad said the day they'd picked us up from the adoption agency, Alina had been dressed like a sunbeam, and I'd been a rainbow.

Alina.

Her absence in my life was so painful that it was a presence. Grief still kicked me awake in the morning, kept me company all day, and crawled into bed with me at night.

Dublin was a constant reminder of her. She was here in every street, in the face of every young coed who had no idea what was walking right alongside her, masquerading as human. She was laughing in the pubs, and dying later in the dark.

She was all the people I couldn't save.

I skirted the busy craic craic-filled streets of Temple Bar and headed straight for the college. Last night I'd walked through the heavily trafficked tourist zone that boasted over six hundred pubs, but tonight I was in no mood to be reminded that there were only two known weapons that could kill Fae and hundreds, if not thousands, of Unseelie in the city. My encounter with the Sinsar Dubh Sinsar Dubh had sobered me. The sheer evilness of the thing had served as a grim reminder that, although I might have recently triumphed in an against-all-odds type of situation and walked out of it stronger, there was worse in store for me yet. had sobered me. The sheer evilness of the thing had served as a grim reminder that, although I might have recently triumphed in an against-all-odds type of situation and walked out of it stronger, there was worse in store for me yet.

When I arrived at the office that housed the staff of the Ancient Languages Department, Christian met me at the door, looking young, hip, and hot in faded jeans, rugged boots, and a sweater, his long, dark hair pulled back at his nape in a leather thong. He gave me a charged, appreciative look, making me glad I'd taken care with my appearance. A woman likes to know her efforts are paying off.

He took my arm and suggested we go somewhere else. "They're discussing the budget," he advised in a deep, husky brogue, adjusting his stuffed backpack over a well-muscled shoulder.

"Don't you need to stay?"

"Nah. Only full-timers have to suffer the meetings. I'm part-time." He flashed a killer smile that made me stand up straight. Christian was the kind of good-looking that hit you over the head, made you keep stealing second and third glances at him: the five-o'clock shadow on the strong jaw, the broad shoulders, the flawless dark skin, and the striking tiger-eyes. There was an easy grace to his long-limbed body that hinted at maturity beyond his years. "Besides, it's not a place I'm comfortable talking, and we've a great deal to talk about, la.s.s."

I hoped that meant someone was finally going to tell me something useful about my sister. He led me to a windowless study room off a vending area in the nearly deserted bas.e.m.e.nt of the building. We settled into folding metal chairs, beneath the hum of fluorescent lights, where I imagined Alina might have sat and studied a time or two. I wasted no time asking Christian how he'd met her. I wondered if he'd been one of the boys she'd dated when she'd first come over, before she'd been brainwashed by the Lord Master. I sure would have. In another life. A normal one.

"She came to the ALD, looking for someone to translate a page of text."

"What kind of text?" I thought instantly of the Sinsar Dubh Sinsar Dubh.

"Nothing I could translate. My uncles couldn't, either."

I a.s.sumed his uncles were linguists and said so.

He smiled faintly, as if amused by the question. "They're historians, after a fas.h.i.+on, knowledgeable about antiquities and such. I've never stumbled across a text they couldn't translate."

"Did you ever find out what it was?"

"My turn, Mac. I've a few questions of my own. What happened to you the other night? Why'd you cry off?"

"I told you. My dad called, and we got to talking about Mom and how she's getting worse and I lost track of time. Then, by the time I got off the phone, something I ate for dinner wasn't agreeing with me and I felt so sick I just went to bed."

"Nice try," he said dryly. "Now tell me the truth."

"I just did."

"No, you didn't. You're lying. I hear it in your voice."

"You can't hear whether I'm lying in my voice," I scoffed. "Body language might tell you a thing or two, but-"

"Yes, I can." He cut me off with a faintly bitter flash of that killer smile. "Literally. You lie, I hear it. And I wish I didn't. You have no idea how often people lie. All the b.l.o.o.d.y time, about everything, even stupid things that make no sense to bother lying about. Truth between us, Mac, or nothing at all. Your choice. But don't bother trying to fool me. You can't."

I began to ease off my coat, remembered my a.r.s.enal, and thought better of it, settled back in my chair, and crossed my legs, one high heel swinging. I searched his face. My G.o.d, he was serious. "You really know when people are lying?"

He nodded.

"Prove it."

"Got a boyfriend?"

"No."

"Is there a man you're interested in?"

"No."

"You're lying."

I stiffened. "I am not."

"Yes, you are. He may not be a boyfriend but there's someone you're interested in enough that you're thinking about having s.e.x with him."

I glared. "I am not. And you can't possibly know that."

He shrugged. "Sorry, Mac, I hear the truth even when the person isn't admitting it to themselves." One dark brow lifted. "I don't suppose it might be me?"

I blushed. He'd just made me think it. Us. Naked. Wow. I was a perfectly healthy woman, and he was was a gorgeous man. "No," I said, embarra.s.sed. a gorgeous man. "No," I said, embarra.s.sed.

He laughed, gold eyes glittering. "Lie. A whopper. Gotta love that. Have I told you I'm a big believer in fulfilling a woman's fantasies?"

I rolled my eyes. "I wasn't wasn't thinking it before you said it. You put the thought in my head and then, there it was, and I was thinking it." And that worried me, because I could think of only two other people-and I was using that term loosely about both-that I might have been thinking of having s.e.x with thinking it before you said it. You put the thought in my head and then, there it was, and I was thinking it." And that worried me, because I could think of only two other people-and I was using that term loosely about both-that I might have been thinking of having s.e.x with before before he'd made me think about having s.e.x with him, and both were terrible choices. "This doesn't prove anything." he'd made me think about having s.e.x with him, and both were terrible choices. "This doesn't prove anything."

"Guess you'll have to take me on faith then, until you get to know me. I take you on faith. I don't ask you to prove that you see the Fae."

"People think about having s.e.x all the time," I said irritably. "Are you aware of every time you're thinking about it, and who with?"

"Bless the saints, no. I wouldn't get anything done. Most of the time it's just background music, you know, s.e.x-s.e.x-s.e.x-find-in-it-before-more-perfectly-good-sperm-die, playing in my head, to an easy, sensuous beat, then somebody like you walks in and it ratchets up to that Nine Inch Nails song my uncle plays all the time for his wife." He grimaced. "We leave the castle and go somewhere else when he does that."

"Your uncle listens to Trent Reznor?" I blinked. "You live in a castle?" I didn't know which thought was weirder.

"Big. Drafty. Not as impressive as it sounds. And not all my uncles are as cool as Dageus. Men want to be him. Women adore him. It's irritating, actually. I never introduce my girlfriends to him."

If he was anything like Christian, I could see why.

"Point is, Mac, don't lie to me. I will will know. And I won't put up with it." know. And I won't put up with it."

I pondered his claim. I knew what it was like to be capable of doing something others would consider impossible. I decided to take him at face value, and see what came of it. Time would tell. "So, is it a gift of birth, like me being a sidhe sidhe-seer?"

"You don't think being a sidhe sidhe-seer is a gift. Nor is my . . . little problem, and yes, much to my parents' inconvenience, I was born this way. There are necessary lies. Or, at least, kind ones. I never got to hear any of them. I don't get to hear them now."

Alina had said the same thing: Necessary lies. "Well, look on the bright side of it, you don't get to hear any lies, but n.o.body around you gets to tell any, either. Do you think it's easy to be around someone that you have to tell the truth to all the-oh!" I drew up short. "You don't have many friends, do you?" Not if he spoke his mind freely, and he looked like the kind of guy that did.

He shot me a cool look. "Why'd you cry off last night?"

"I had a close call with a Dark Hallow, and they make me too sick to function if I get too close."

He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and stared at me with fascination. "Now that that was a celestial choir of truth, la.s.s! You saw a Dark Hallow? Which one?" was a celestial choir of truth, la.s.s! You saw a Dark Hallow? Which one?"

"How do you know about the Dark Hallows? Who are are you and what's your involvement in this?" I didn't need any more mystifying men in my life. you and what's your involvement in this?" I didn't need any more mystifying men in my life.

"How much truth will you give me?"

I hesitated only briefly. Of all the men I'd met in Dublin, he seemed the most like me; essentially normal, but afflicted with an unwanted, life-altering talent. "As much as I can, if you do the same."

He nodded, satisfied, then settled back in his chair. "I come from a clan that, in ancient times, served the Fae."

The Keltar, Christian told me, had once been High Druids to the Tuatha De Danaan, many thousands of years ago, during that brief time in which the Fae had attempted to play nice and coexist with man. Something had happened that shattered the fragile peace-he skimmed over this part-but whatever it was had caused Fae and Man to go their separate ways, and not amicably.

A Compact was negotiated to permit both races to exist on the same planet but keep the realms separate, and the Keltar were given the duty of performing certain rituals to maintain the walls between them. Over the millennia, they performed them faithfully with few exceptions, and if they failed in some small way, they always managed to make up for it in the nick of time.

But in recent years, the rituals stopped going as expected. On those preappointed nights of the year when the Keltar were to perform their magic, some other dark magic had risen up and prevented the pledge from being reinforced, and the t.i.the from being fully paid. Although this other magic hadn't been able to collapse the walls between our worlds, it had seriously weakened them. Christian's uncles believed the walls would not hold through another incomplete ritual. The queen of the Seelie, Aoibheal, who in the past had always appeared in times of crisis, had yet to be seen, although they'd invoked her by every spell they had at their disposal.

I was riveted by the story. The thought that, for thousands of years, a clan in the Highlands of Scotland had been protecting Mankind from the Fae fascinated me. Especially if they were all like Christian: gorgeous, s.e.xy, self-possessed. It was comforting to know there were other bloodlines out there in the world with special, unusual powers. I wasn't alone in my awareness of what was happening to our world. I'd found someone besides Barrons who had more information than me, and he was willing to share it!

"My uncles believe something has happened to the queen," he said, "and as her power diminishes, another's grows. The walls continue to weaken, and if we don't figure out something by the time the next ritual must be performed, they'll come down."

"What'll happen then?" I asked in a hushed voice. "Will the Compact be broken?"

"My uncles believe the Compact already is is broken, that the walls are holding only because of the increasing t.i.thes they keep paying. Fae magic is strange stuff." He paused then said tightly, "At the last rites, we had to use blood, Keltar blood, in a pagan ritual. It's unheard of. We've never used blood before. Uncle Cian knew how to do it. It was dirty magic. I could feel it. What we did was wrong but it was the only thing we could do." broken, that the walls are holding only because of the increasing t.i.thes they keep paying. Fae magic is strange stuff." He paused then said tightly, "At the last rites, we had to use blood, Keltar blood, in a pagan ritual. It's unheard of. We've never used blood before. Uncle Cian knew how to do it. It was dirty magic. I could feel it. What we did was wrong but it was the only thing we could do."

I understood that feeling. What I'd done to Jayne would never sit entirely well with me, but I'd been unable to think of an alternative. It hadn't been dirty magic, just dirty tea. Manipulative. Ruthless. But I've begun to understand that you can only afford to play nice when there's not much at stake. "And if the walls come down completely?" I reiterated my earlier question. I wanted to know just how bad things might get.

"When the Fae walked among us before, only the Seelie did. The Unseelie have been imprisoned for so long that mere whispers of myths remain. If the walls come down completely, all all the Unseelie will be freed, not just the lower castes that are currently managing to get through somehow. The most powerful of the Unseelie Royal Houses will escape." He paused and when he spoke again, his voice was low, urgent. "Myth equates the heads of those four houses, the dark princes, with the Four Hors.e.m.e.n of the Apocalypse." the Unseelie will be freed, not just the lower castes that are currently managing to get through somehow. The most powerful of the Unseelie Royal Houses will escape." He paused and when he spoke again, his voice was low, urgent. "Myth equates the heads of those four houses, the dark princes, with the Four Hors.e.m.e.n of the Apocalypse."

I knew who they were: Death, Pestilence, War, and Famine. The Unseelie I'd seen so far were bad enough. I had no desire to ever encounter a royal dark Fae.

"It'll get bad, Mac. They'll turn our world into a living nightmare. My uncles believe the Seelie may not be able to reimprison the Unseelie if they escape."

Was this why everyone was after the Sinsar Dubh Sinsar Dubh? Did it contain the spells necessary to imprison the Unseelie, maybe even keep the walls from coming down in the first place? It would certainly explain why V'lane and the Queen wanted it, why Alina had wanted me to find it before the Lord Master did. No doubt if he got his hands on it, he'd hurry up and destroy it to make sure no one could ever imprison his army again. I wondered where Barrons fit in. Would he really sell it to the highest bidder?

I couldn't dwell on the possibility of Unseelie overrunning our world. Keeping my thoughts tightly focused on my goals was the key to keeping my fears in check. "Tell me more about Alina." At my swift change of subject, he looked relieved, and I realized I wasn't the only one who felt like I was charged with an impossible task. It was no wonder Christian seemed mature beyond his years. He was. He had his own fate-of-the-world issues to deal with.

"I'm sorry, Mac, but I don't have much more to say. I tried to make friends with her. Although my uncles couldn't translate the text, they knew where it had come from, and we needed to know how she'd gotten it. It was a photocopy of a page from an ancient book-"

"-called the Sinsar Dubh Sinsar Dubh." The Beast, The Beast, I thought, and my soul s.h.i.+vered. I thought, and my soul s.h.i.+vered.

"I wondered if you knew about it. What do you know? Do you know where it is?"

I didn't know exactly exactly where it was at the moment, and brandished that thought like a s.h.i.+eld when I answered, "No," in case he really was a walking, breathing lie detector. Because he was searching my gaze far too intently for my comfort, I added quickly, "What happened when you tried to make friends with my sister?" where it was at the moment, and brandished that thought like a s.h.i.+eld when I answered, "No," in case he really was a walking, breathing lie detector. Because he was searching my gaze far too intently for my comfort, I added quickly, "What happened when you tried to make friends with my sister?"

"She rebuffed my efforts. She was deeply involved with someone and I got the impression he was very possessive. Didn't like her talking to anyone."

"Did you ever meet him?"

"No. I caught a glimpse of him once. Fleeting. Don't remember much, which makes me believe he was Fae. They mess with your head if they don't want you to see them."

"Did you tell my sister the stuff you just told me?"

"I didn't get the chance."

"If you never became friends, how did you find out she was a sidhe sidhe-seer? How did you find out about me?"

"I followed her a few times," he said. "She was always watching things that weren't there, studying empty s.p.a.ces. I was raised on stories of sidhe sidhe-seers. My family is . . . into old myths and lore. I put two and two together."

"And me?"

He shrugged. "You were poking around Trinity asking about her. Besides, family's a matter of public record, if you know where to look."

With all my enemies, those were records I'd like destroyed. I was grateful my parents were four thousand miles away.

"Which Dark Hallow did you have a close call with last night?" he asked casually.

"The amulet."

"Lie."

I tested him. "The scepter."