Chapter 30: Chapter 30

Ch. 30: Julian

"Gone?" Dane's grasp on my arms tightens. "Gone where?"

"I don't know!" I say, wincing against the bruising pain of his grip. "They were taking us to the standing stones."

"Who was taking you? Julian, where is my sister?"

He shakes me again, harder this time, as if he hopes he can rattle some coherent answers out of me. Thankfully, Freya comes to my rescue.

"Hey, give him some space," she says, laying a restraining hand on Dane's shoulder. "Let the man breathe. I'm sure he'll tell us everything as soon as he's able."

Dane's expression eases a little, and he rubs my arms apologetically. After spending so much time in his alternate form, he must still be thinking with his Wolf's mind: simple and direct, and lacking some human nuances.

I take a few rough gulps of air and cast Freya a thankful glance. "There are other Fae here—a man and two women. Halloran's half-brother and cousins, apparently. They said they came to check on him and find out why he hadn't yet brought me home."

"Home?"

I wince, knowing this next part won't go over well. "To Faerie. Halloran's father is a Fae king, and he wants a leanan sidhe. He sent Halloran here to... retrieve me."

"Fuck," Dane swears, his voice a low growl. "I knew we shouldn't have trusted that guy."

"We didn't," I shoot back. "I did, and he risked his life to help me escape."

"And what about Ingrid?" Dane asks, turning his scowl on me. "You just left her and saved yourself?"

A shock of electric ice goes through me at the cold accusation in his words, and I scramble to my own defense.

"I had no choice! Darragh—the other Fae—threatened to kill Halloran or Ingrid if I didn't cooperate. Then Halloran attacked him and gave me the chance to get away. I was afraid if they caught me, Ingrid or Halloran would pay for it. Halloran may have paid for it already."

Dane shakes his head. "If anything happens to her..."

"You'll never forgive me, and I'll never forgive myself. You don't have to tell me, Dane."

He blinks as if just realizing where he is and who he's talking to, and his expression shifts again towards apology, but I cut him off before he can speak.

"What about her?" I ask, nodding towards my grandmother, who still stands in the shadows at the edge of the trees. "What has she told you?"

"Who knows?" Dane says, turning to look. "I don't understand Fae sign language."

"At least she's not running away," I murmur. "Seems like she wants to help."

Moving away from Dane, I approach her.

"Rhiannon. Do you know who I am?"

She nods slowly and steps towards me, a sparkle of tears in her amethyst eyes. She reaches a hand towards my face, as if she wants to touch me, but withdraws it quickly.

"You still can't speak?" I ask.

She nods and makes a few swift, graceful gestures with her hands.

I shake my head. "I'm sorry. I don't understand."

"I think it's a curse," Freya says, coming to stand at my side. "I've seen something similar before, down in Louisiana. Different magic, same result. Some kinda silencing spell. Am I right?"

Rhiannon's eyes widen, and she nods while making more rapid gestures in the air.

"Whoa, slow down," Freya says, raising her own hands. "I don't understand any more than he does." She nods at me. "Can you write?"

The other woman shakes her head and makes a larger, slower gesture in the air—this time, one I recognize.

"Only in runes," I say, taking a guess.

Her gaze shifts to me, and she nods eagerly.

"That tracks," says Freya. "In the cases I've seen, it's almost as if the victims have had a 'magical stroke,' like the curse affects the speech-processing parts of the brain. When they try to speak or write, it comes out all garbled. But it seems like the runes bypass that—maybe they're more art than language."

"We can speculate later," Dane says gruffly. "For now, we need to find Ingrid. Fuck." He bunches his hands in his hair and scowls as Rhiannon gestures unintelligibly. "I wish Noah were here."

Freya frowns. "Let's concentrate on what we do have. Maybe Rhiannon can't tell us the whole story, but she can clearly show a 'yes' or 'no,' and that's enough to get some answers." She turns back to the Fae. "You know the people who took our sister?"

Rhiannon nods, though confusion clouds her expression.

"Will they take her to Faerie?"

She hesitates, then nods.

"Let's get to the standing stones," Dane says. "Maybe we can still cut them off. If not, we'll go in after them. Can you open a doorway?" he asks, directing the question at Rhiannon.

She shakes her head while gesturing rapidly, and backs away a few paces.

"Whatever. We'll figure it out when we get there. Freya—run ahead and get our clothes. We'll meet you at the car."

Freya nods and takes off into the trees, Shifting as she runs—a woman in one stride, a Wolf in the next—and disappears.

Dane follows, remaining in human form, but Rhiannon catches at my arm and holds me back, shaking her head.

"What is it?" I ask. "You think they're not at the stones?"

She grimaces and shakes her head, gesturing incomprehensibly.

"Come with us," I say, reaching for her hand. "We can talk on the way. Do you still have my dad's book? Maybe you can teach me to read it, and—"

Snatching her hand from my grasp, she backs away, beckoning for me to follow her.

"Julian, come on!" Dane calls.

I glance over my shoulder and see Dane waiting for me. When I turn back to Rhiannon, she's gone.

⁎⁎⁎

At the house, Freya greets us, tossing Dane a bundle of clothes. He pulls them on and heads for his car with barely a pause.

"Where's Rhiannon?" Freya asks, glancing past me.

"Not coming," Dane grunts. "Disappeared again. Damn Fae."

I flinch, but don't argue. At the moment, his dislike for that side of my family is understandable. He gets behind the wheel and slams the door, and when Freya moves to take the front passenger seat out of habit, I take the back without complaint.

Dane drives like a maniac, but fortunately, the roads are almost empty at this time of night, and the standing stones are in a remote area well outside of town—a place neither of us associates with good memories.

It's the place I nearly died, the place Dane lost me to Faerie, and the place where he spent six months as a Wolf awaiting my return. Now it could be the place he loses Ingrid.

No one speaks on the ride, and twenty minutes later, the car jostles from side to side as Dane leaves the pavement and parks in the gravelly dirt. Beyond this, a wide expanse of meadowland stretches away in a gentle, upward slope. It looks smooth from this distance, but I know from experience the ground is rough and uneven in places, crisscrossed by rivulets and streams choked by willow thickets. The standing stones are about half a mile away.

Dane gets out and stands at the edge of the meadow. "Anything?" he asks, as Freya and I join him.

Freya scans the landscape and shakes her head. "Looks quiet to me, but you know the Fae. There could be a whole army standing out here, and we wouldn't know until we're full of arrows."

"Alright. Quick and quiet. Stay alert," he says, and sets off at a brisk stride.

Freya hangs back and waits for me.

"You okay being here?" she asks.

"Fine," I say, swallowing the metallic taste of both recent and remembered fear. "Thanks for asking."

"Don't mind him," she says, nodding towards Dane's back. "He goes cold on the outside when he's all fire in here." She taps her chest.

"He's angry."

"And scared, and that gets turned into anger, too. But he's not angry at you."

I make a noncommittal sound in reply.

Freya casts me a glance. "If you haven't noticed, he takes it as a personal failure when something bad happens on his watch, and especially if the 'something bad' involves someone he feels responsible for, like his baby sister. But you're his heart and soul, Julian."

"So is his family."

"Which you're a part of just as much as Ingrid, or any of us. There's no 'either or.' There's just us."

I want to believe her, but I can't help feeling like if he blames himself for anything right now, it's that he chose a Fae for a mate.

As we near the standing stones, I call out to him.

"Dane, wait—let me go first. They won't shoot me if I'm what they want."

A little to my surprise, he doesn't argue and allows me to take the lead as the stones come into view.

Like a black-and-white photograph, moonlight and shadows paint the scene in monochrome. A cool, midnight breeze stirs the grasses, bats swoop overhead, and the shrill cacophony of coyote song echoes up from some distant hollow at the meadow's far end. Other than these familiar disturbances, however, the night is still.

The stones themselves are tall and white, jagged and haphazard as a handful of giant's teeth dropped in a pile. The formation is natural, but resembles an ancient monument.

"They're not here," Freya says, laying a hand on the side of the nearest stone.

"No sign they have been, either," Dane agrees, scanning the ground. "Fuck."

"Maybe that's what Rhiannon was trying to tell me," I say, hugging myself to stop from shivering. "She knew they'd go somewhere else. Maybe she even knows where. We should have—"

I cut myself off as Dane turns and begins walking away, stripping off his shirt as he goes.

"Hey!" I jog after him. "Dane, what are you doing?"

"What I should have done already," he says. "Taking the Alpha. If I'd claimed it already, those Fae wouldn't dare. None of this would have happened."

"What?" Freya catches up and grabs his arm, forcing him to stop. "What about the ritual?"

"Fuck the ritual," he growls, shaking her off and continuing on his way.

She follows him, catching his arm again. "Dane, stop. You can't take the Alpha when you're like this!"

"Like what?"

"Angry and scared! You know what could happen if you do." She stares at him imploringly, but he's unmoved.

Shaking his head, he pushes her aside. "I know what will happen if I don't."

"Dane!" I get in front of him, blocking his way. "Just wait a minute. Talk to me. Let me help."

"You've helped enough for one night," he says, and shoves me—not violently, but effectively—and I stumble to the side and fall in the soft grass.

As I scramble to my feet, he continues a few paces and then stops and looks at me over his shoulder.

"I love you, Julian," he says, his voice low and rough, "but don't follow me. Go home. I'll see you there soon."

He walks on. My heart urges me to follow him, but the coldness in his voice has frozen me in place. He disappears behind a thicket of brush, and moments later a rough bark tells me he's taken Wolf-form.

Freya joins me and shakes her head. "Damn idiot."

"What did you mean?" I ask. "What could happen if he takes the Alpha like this?"

She draws a deep breath and chews her bottom lip.

"There's a reason a would-be Alpha spends days in solitary contemplation before the ritual," she says. "The Alpha-bond strengthens an Alpha's inborn characteristics, so it's important to be focused on what characteristics one values most: an even temper, fair-mindedness, kindness, courage, honor—whatever. Right now, Dane's heart is a mess. If he takes the Alpha like this, he might not come back as the best version of himself."

"Meaning?"

Grasping my hand, she laces her long, strong fingers through mine and continues in a whisper. "Meaning a monster might come back instead."