killed. She’s a dog, not a warrior.”
Clive took her hand and squeezed a moment. “She’s a warrior most definitely. And even if you locked her up, she’d just show up on scene if that’s what she wanted to do. She’s like her mother. Willful and resourceful. Which is why you need to let her come.”
“I can’t lose anyone else,” she said quietly, breaking his heart.
“She’s too stubborn to die,” he said back. “We all are. And if you die, your father will tear the foundations of the world down and we’re all dead anyway.”
“No fucking pressure,” Rowan said.
She would hold up the earth on her shoulders if that’s what was necessary. He knew it. She knew it. And he wasn’t lying. The First would go on a rampage the kind of which hadn’t been seen in eons if she died. And Clive wouldn’t be there to stop him because he’d be rampaging as well.
“Do you think there are still siphon spells set to go off, fueling him?” Rowan asked Genevieve.
“His sources keep drying up. First we killed Lyr, who was the Vampire sending him the most power. Then we eradicated Roderick and the Blood Front black market source for siphon spells. So there might be a few, waiting to be activated. But I’m thinking he’s been feeling the pinch of losing his partners in this whole thing. He may not be getting extra power from the spells, but he’s still going to be hard to defeat.”
Rowan blew out a breath. “Fine. When do we do this?”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Rowan had dropped off Clive back at Die Mitte and decided what she needed was a trip to the ranch where the shrine to Brigid was.
She needed, very much, the kind of support and compassion the acolytes there gave her. No one expected anything of her there. She was the Vessel. They’d feed her and brush her hair and tell her stories and read poetry or whatever she wanted. And they expected nothing in return but her pleasure at their attentions.
That night she came in quietly, knowing that most people in the world weren’t on Vampire time so they were in bed by one in the morning. The lights leading down to the basement were low, but lit so she could find her way.
She disrobed, hanging her clothes up and using the ritual bath to cleanse her outside before she got into one of the white caftans on pegs nearby.
In front of the flame, always lit in service to their Goddess, Rowan went to her knees and simply let it all go. Let herself ascend into that plane of reality where Brigid existed.
That night it was her mother, her true, human mother, who waited. Rowan simply moved to her and let those arms wrap around her tight.
“I’m afraid I can’t do this.”
“Sweetheart, you can do anything. Don’t you know this by now?” her mother said.
“I keep failing. People I love keep dying. I don’t want to go out into the desert to fight this Fae and get my husband killed true. Or my dog. Or my friend Genevieve. I don’t know how to defeat a Faerie!”
Her mother made one of those comforting sounds of disagreement and Rowan wished so hard that she’d had this every day growing up instead of a spirit she only got to interact with once in a while.
“It’s not weak to wish for such things, Rowan,” her mother said as if Rowan had spoken aloud. “If you can’t expose your fears to your mother, who can you tell them to?”
“My husband I guess?”
“He’s good to you and that’s important. But I’m your mother,” she said simply.
“Okay. Okay. Yes.”
Rowan let her mother take her hand and they walked a little, through the nothing.
“I can see you sometimes. When you’re out in your world. Fierce and smart. I have faith in you and your abilities, even if you forget to do so yourself. And you have friends and allies now that will help you face this enemy. He is canny, Rowan. You cannot believe anything he tells you. There is no bargaining with this Fae.”
“Do you know about him? It’s a him?”
“I can’t tell you much. There are rules.”
Fucking rules. How Rowan hated the rules.
“Yes, this Faerie is male. And he’s very old. He knows a great many tricks. But his magic won’t stay. No matter how many siphon spells. No one keeps stolen magic for long. He has to obey the rules too.”
“I’m having prophecy dreams. I don’t know how