mother. The woman who gave birth to me was an abhorrent Daemoni witch who died over two centuries ago. So drop the faerie antics. They’re not helping anyone.”
Bree shook her head, and the light sparked off her Otherworldly hair. “That’s what they told you, Tristan. They wanted you to believe I cared nothing about you so you would hate me. They wanted you to themselves, to raise you their way, not mine.”
“They said you tried to kill me! You wanted me dead.”
“No, my son. All part of their lies. The truth is . . . I loved—love—you. I always have.”
“Faeries don’t love! You don’t care about anything in this world!”
“But I did. I still do. It’s why they took you from me. You couldn’t experience love, not for their purposes. When they saw how much I cared for you . . . they didn’t expect that at all. They didn’t know I was fae. They saw the witch you saw just a bit ago—a couple hundred years younger, but the same witch. They thought I served them. They would have never allowed me to be your birth mother if they knew.”
Tristan’s hands flew to the sides of his head, grabbing at his hair. He blew out a rumbling breath—a growl of anger or exasperation, I wasn’t sure. I placed my hand on the small of his back and felt his muscles pulled taut under my touch.
“Why then?” he demanded of Bree. “Why would the fae get involved? Why did they care?”
Bree tilted her head. “It wasn’t the fae. It was the Angels. Do you really think they’d let the Daemoni get away with creating a warrior . . . someone like you . . . without a plan? They played a part in it all along, planning how you would eventually come to their side. They came to the fae, asking for our help. I’ve always favored the Angels, favored Heaven’s ways, so I volunteered.”
Martin shifted, the movement catching my eye. His eyes narrowed. “That would mean you’d have to give up the Otherworld and live in the physical realm for eternity. No faerie would do such a thing.”
“I did,” Bree said, turning toward him and the council. “I saw their need, and if I didn’t do it, if none of us did, the Daemoni would have created something much worse than Tristan. A beast with no goodness at all, no conscience, a killing machine.”
“And they trusted you?” Julia demanded. “Knew you wouldn’t turn on them?”
“Not at first, but they requested this favor, so they’d already devised a variety of challenges to test my loyalty, to be certain I served them. When they were satisfied, they sent me into this world as a witch, someone who would meet the Daemoni’s criteria for their warrior’s biological mother. They planted me so I could give Tristan their goodness and my fae blood.” Bree took several steps toward the dais. “Don’t you see? The Angels wanted Tristan to be here, serving you, not the Daemoni. They planned this all along.”
“How can we trust you?” Martin demanded. His eyes had gone from pale blue to so dark, they almost looked purple. He leaned forward, his knuckles white as he gripped the edge of the table, his body tense as if he used every bit of control he had to keep himself from attacking Bree. His voice came out as a growl that rivaled Tristan’s. “You’re a fae!”
Jessica, who’d been standing with Lisa in the shadows, stepped forward. “We’ll just have to show y’all.”
She and Lisa went over to Bree and grasped her hands in theirs. Then they all lifted their hands together into a peak over their heads, which they leaned together. The light in the room darkened and colorful sparks rained down on them. Then I lost them as the whole room disappeared in darkness.
I found myself in a different place and time. I stood on the side of a mountain covered in green grass and gray boulders, reminding me of pictures I’d seen of Ireland. Bree floated in the air above me with a blinding light surrounding her. She appeared to be alone, but a clear voice with an unearthly quality spoke.
“Thank you, Bree, for aiding us,” the voice said. “We understand this changes your existence, and we celebrate your commitment.”
“I do it for you and the greater good,” Bree said.
“And we, the Angels, will be with you forever. You may feel outcast, but know you are not. You will rejoin us