a lupine face as she padded over to join Conal. “Give it a rest already!” To him, she said, “I think we’ve made our point. Siobhan won’t try this shit again, not against you, and not against the twins or Beltane. And if she does, we’ll take care of her. As it is, I’d rather not kill Maeve’s daughter if we can avoid it.”
“Conal’s dead, you blind, stupid dog!” Siobhan screamed at her. “And that thing has stolen his body. Do you have any idea how many the death god has killed over the millennia? It was all my mother and the Dragon God could do to contain him! And now you’ve freed him to kill again!”
Helena’s gaze met his, and the naked agony in them made him flinch. She’s afraid Siobhan’s right. But the pain vanished from her eyes an instant later. “If you want to live, you’ll swear an oath to leave Conal, his sisters, the people of Beltane, and all of mortal Earth in peace. Or you won’t like what comes next.”
Siobhan laughed. “Why should the death god care about a collection of halfers and mortals? He’ll soon kill them all himself. Nothing can sate his hunger, else my mother wouldn’t have had to bind him.”
And I’ve heard about enough, Conal thought. He caged his power, tamed it to keep it from ringing in his voice. “Actually, I’m still here, Siobhan.” His lips peeled up in a grin fully as savage as Helena’s. “I’m still here, and I remember everything you did to me.” He met the demigoddess’s eyes and let her see the black fury in his -- the pain and the rage and the memories of five years of enslavement and torment.
Siobhan’s eyes widened as she took a jolting step back. Her armor and her defensive shields flared as she pumped magic into them. Conal flicked his fingers, opening a gate to Maeve’s palace. Recognizing Liam’s magic, the Mother’s protective spells allowed it. The doorway that formed showed the garden by moonlight, the white serenity of the palace shimmering through the trees. Conal looked up at Essus. Go with her.
Conal…
Now.
The bird shivered and dropped down to land on Helena’s shoulder, though Conal could feel his friend’s lingering anger at her. “Go,” Conal told her gently.
Helena looked at him, uncertainty in her eyes, as if wondering if it was really him. “It’s all right, I’ll catch up when I’m done.”
No, Conal, please, Essus begged. You can’t. Siobhan’s got too much power.
Conal’s lips pulled off his teeth. “I don’t care.” The air reverberated as he spoke, though his voice was quiet. “I will have justice. Siobhan owes me blood.”
* * *
Helena stared at Conal in sick fear. He looked exactly like the man she had fallen in love with -- the same square jaw, powerful shoulders, sensual mouth, elegantly pointed ears. But the humanity was gone from that handsome face, leaving it icy and remote. Liam had transformed him as thoroughly as the Bite had changed her.
His Sidhe armor was worked with ancient sigils she couldn’t read despite her training, and strands of his black hair was woven in braids bound with gold cords, much as Maeve wore in her green mane. But the truly terrifying thing was the way his power beat at her consciousness and blazed in those cold violet eyes.
Helena knew power -- she worked for Maeve. But the power that blazed around Conal was more intense even than the Mother’s. It was like being in the presence of a nuclear reactor in the midst of melting down. Every instinct she had howled Run!
Even Darkbane had changed. It had been a two-handed sword before, a good-sized blade. But now it was even longer, wider, and it spilled sparks every time he moved, as if bleeding off the excess power he fed it.
She wasn’t the only one thoroughly unnerved either. Siobhan looked downright terrified as she spun toward her courtiers. “As I am your lady, defend me!” Her harem looked at her as they hugged the throne room’s walls as far away from Conal and his thundering aura as they could get. Not one of them moved. “I said now!” Siobhan shrieked, throwing out an arm in a gesture like a backhand slap. Magic boiled from her swinging hand. One of the courtiers burst into flames and vanished in a whirl of light. She pointed a shaking finger at Helena. “Kill that bitch!”
“Only if you want to die,” Conal said, his tone conversational, though the