alone in front of me, speaking in her language, words that are thick and throaty and lyrical.
Then something seizes my chest, a pain lancing through me that makes me stagger. And Sorcha laughs and laughs.
I wake with a start, gasping for breath. I’m sweating under the wool blankets, my breathing ragged, my heartbeat unsteady.
“Bad dream?”
I turn, and Sorcha is there, standing between the trees. She wears a long coat of what looks like silk, lined with fur that goes all the way up to the collar and frames her pale face. She stands out against the snow, her lips a plump red, her eyes so green that they scarcely look real. Sorcha has never looked more beautiful, nor more dangerous.
Crimson suits you best, says her voice from my memories. I shove that memory away, burying it deep down inside of me, where I hide the parts of myself that leave me the most vulnerable.
She watches me with glittering eyes filled with malice, with murder—and I’m alone with her. The fire has gone out; only empty blankets around the ashes indicate the others were here at all.
My hand slides along my hip for my sword, but it’s gone. I shut my eyes briefly. Damnation.
Sorcha smiles and pulls the sword from behind her back. “Looking for this?” She tests the edge of the blade with her finger. “It’s a lovely one, isn’t it? Aithinne always did exceptional work. Of course, you’ll no longer be needing it.”
She pulls back and tosses it into the trees, her fae strength sending it flying deep into the forest. Her self-satisfied smirk makes me want to slit her throat.
“If you hurt my friends, I’ll—”
“You’ll do what? Kill me?” she says with a laugh. “I sent each one off on their very own hunt. I wonder how many will make it out alive. Between us, I’m betting against the blond human girl.”
With a snarl, I shove out of my blankets and throw myself at her—but my body is still too slow from using my powers. Sorcha has me by the throat before I can even blink. With a sharp-toothed grin she shoves me into a tree.
“Now that wasn’t nice, was it?” Sorcha watches me closely. “Look at you. A little less human than the last time I saw you.” Her fingers tighten around my neck and I try not to gag. “That’s how Lonnrach found the city, you know. A human using the powers of the Seelie Queen without the skill to conceal it.” She clicks her tongue. “You were like a beacon in a storm, little Falconer. Not even that pixie’s shield worked to block that amount of power.”
Human enough, the Cailleach’s voice whispers from my memories. Derrick must have thought he was hiding me when I connected to the neimhead, never realizing that some of my energy must have leaked out. A beacon in a storm. Damnation.
I shove against her, but she’s too blasted strong. “At least you gave up that I’m just here to help pretense, because any more of that nonsense and I was going to run you through with something sharp.”
“Oh, but you’re wrong,” Sorcha whispers. The baobhan sìth’s breath is on my neck, and if she wanted, she could drain me of blood in less than a minute. “I can’t tell lies, Falconer. I was helping. Just not you.”
What if I told you I was on your side, Kadamach? That I wanted you to win against my brother? “Kiaran,” I say softly. “This was all for him.”
“It’s always been for him,” she says. “Unlike Kadamach, I don’t abandon my friends.” She draws a sharp fingernail down the length of my throat. “You see, if I allowed Lonnrach to capture you again, he would have put you in a place where no one could get to you until he found that crystal, not even me. I couldn’t risk him performing the ritual alone, not when the life of myself and my consort is at stake.”
Hand to my throat or not, I almost gag when she calls Kiaran her consort. It takes all my training to keep my expression even.
“Yet you were helping the Cailleach.” When she just blinks at me, I say, “For god’s sake. You don’t strike me as being that simpleminded. She wants Kiaran dead every bit as much as Lonnrach does.”
“Ah, the Cailleach.” Sorcha laughs. “To think I once eagerly joined her little crusade to end the Falconer line. But then I met you—the last one.” Her fingernail moves back