Chapter 26

Twenty-Six

I race across the meadow and grab Bran by the arms to give him a hard shake. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?!”

His face is blank, unemotional. “I am doing what needs to be done, Mouse.”

“He just stabbed you! For fun!” There’s still blood covering the front of him even though the wound has already healed itself. “You don’t know how far he’ll take it. What if he keeps you forever? What if he hurts you so badly, you can’t recover?”

The leader of the Fairies of Suffering runs his tongue over his lips, like he’s lapping up the last of Bran’s suffering.

Arion is suddenly beside me and slowly pries my hands from Bran’s shirt. “Jessie,” he says, forcing me to look at him. The sky is rolling with dark clouds again, thunder rumbling in the distance. I’ve lost control again.

“Allow me to serve as negotiator,” Arion says to me, then to Bran.

“I will agree to that,” Bran says.

Arion turns to the fairy leader. “Draggun?”

“Oh for fuck's sake. His name is Dragon?”

“It’s Draggun,” he corrects me, even though it sounds exactly the same. The fairy leader has barely glanced at me, as if I don’t matter.

“Well, Dragon,” I say, “you can’t have him.”

“I’d say you’re too late,” Draggun answers.

His voice makes my teeth wrinkle.

“Will you agree to a proper negotiation?” Arion asks him.

“Of course.”

Arion puts himself between Bran and Draggun. “The deal expires a year from today.”

Draggun counters, “A year and a day. And I get him on the last day.”

Arion glances at Bran and Bran gives a quick nod. “Any form of suffering cannot be fatal,” Arion adds.

The thunder rumbles closer as the panic rises in my throat. I could use my voice, make this stop. But then what? I know logically Bran’s right — we need every edge we can get. But at what cost?

I catch his eye as Arion and Draggun iron out the terms of the suffering. Bran says nothing, but the look in his gaze says enough.

You’d do the same for me , is his unspoken response. And you’d demand I respect it.

I swallow, tears stinging in my sinuses. I would do the same. And he’d hate it. Just like he’s hated every other time I’ve risked my life for this.

Fuck.

“You get him and his suffering for twenty-four mortal hours and only on the solstices,” Arion says.

Draggun shakes his head. “Not enough.”

Arion glances at Bran and Bran breaks our gaze. “Solstices and equinoxes.”

“Still not enough.”

Bran sighs. “Every full moon?”

Draggun smiles. “Well enough.”

“Great,” Arion answers. “One year and one day from now, you will release Bran Duval of any and all further suffering, provided he’s fulfilled his end of the bargain.”

Draggun pulls a dagger from a sheath on his forearm, spins it in his hand, then catches it by the hilt. He drags the blade over the fleshy part of his palm, blood chasing the sharp tine as his skin parts.

He holds out his hand, then the dagger. Bran takes the weapon, repeating the wound and then they shake on it, blood dripping from their clasped hands.

“I think that settles it then,” Draggun says. “Now, if you’ll allow me and mine to do what we do best, we’ll move ahead of you and get into position outside the Summer Palace. Once we join the fight, we will feast on the suffering and none of you will stop us. Is that understood?”

“So long as it’s none of ours,” I say.

Draggun finally turns to me and finding his feral eyes directed toward me is a lot to bear. My heart quickens in my chest.

“You are bold, Winter Princess,” he says. “I like that.” His expression is hard to read.

But despite myself, I blush beneath the compliment.

He’s not just a creature of the darkness. He’s a master manipulator, I suspect.

And for a split second, I almost tell him thanks before I remember who and what he is.

“I appreciate you noticing,” I tell him instead.

His smirk is unmistakable. He did know what he was doing.

“We will see you when the mayhem runs high and not a moment sooner.” He nods to Bran, Arion, and lastly, me. And then he’s gone, taking his soldiers with him through the gate.

“That was really stupid!” I yell at Bran.

“It got us what we needed.” He’s walking through the meadow, assessing the damage. We only lost a few vampires, now just piles of ash in the grass. Cal instructs two of his shifters to carry the dead back to the Pack House. They lost four.

Thankfully, Sam is untouched, but Cal is sticking close to her like he’s worried anything could take her out, even a rut in the ground.

Arion cuts across the meadow after conversing with Baspin and Bianca. “We should hurry through the gate. It won’t be long before the queen catches wind of Maven’s death. If I had to make a prediction, she has him marked with some kind of charm to track him or alert her to his death. She’s done it before. Being on the mortal side, it might take a while for the magic to link up, but it won’t be long enough.”

“Will we encounter trouble on the way to the palace?” Bran asks him.

“Probably.” Arion scans the meadow. “We could split up, use one of our groups as a decoy.”

Bran crosses his arms over his chest, thinking it over. “That might work.”

Cal and Sam come over to our huddle. Cal says, “I’ll volunteer for the decoy group. I could take some of the shifters and the vampires.”

“You’re sure?” Bran asks him.

“Shifters fight better in the woods anyway. And I’m assuming that’s where the ambush might happen?”

Arion gives a nod. “Probably on the trail somewhere about halfway from the gate to the palace.”

Several strands of his blond hair hang in his face, so Cal unties it, then rakes it all back again with his bloody fingers leaving several streaks of red amongst the blond. How could Sam possibly resist this man?

“Which way should I take them?” Cal asks, winding the rubber band over the messy bun at the back of his head.

“Follow the main trail,” Arion instructs. “It’ll take you where you need to go. There are no forks in that path, so you just need to stick to the one.”

Sam wraps me in a hug. “I’m so glad I’m doing this. This is the most fun I’ve had in a long time.”

She smells like autumn air and the sharp tang of blood. “I’m not. I wish you were home right now safe and sound.”

She laughs against me, then gives me a big smacking wet kiss on the cheek. “I’ll see you on the other side of your victory, princess. Then we’ll have a slumber party to celebrate, and we’ll get super drunk.”

“She absolutely will not,” Bran says.

I wink at Sam, letting her know I’m totally game.

Bran and Cal split the group, but leave us with Arion, Baspin, and Bianca. Once Cal has the numbers he needs, they wave goodbye and slip through the gate.

“We’ll give them about a twenty-minute lead,” Arion explains. “Then we’ll go through and head further east. It’s an old trader’s route and it’ll be overgrown, but it should suffice for getting us around any ambushes and to the palace.”

As we wait for time to pass, I pace back and forth in front of the gate.

This is it.

This is really it.

Looking back, everything about my life was leading to this moment, starting with my mom making the decision to keep me even when she knew I wasn’t hers. Then Julian learning I was something special and shielding me from the other Houses. Rita binding me. Stanley protecting me.

And finally, Bran. Bran who helped me pull back the layers of myself, who stood by my side as I uncovered all of my dark secrets.

Secrets drenched in blood.

But mine nevertheless.

How can anyone embrace who they are without knowing their dark parts? Without knowing their truth, no matter how painful or hard it may be?

“If you have to,” Bran says, watching me pace back and forth, lost in thought, “use your voice. Command with it.”

I come to a stop. “That’s easier said than done. I still feel like my power is like water in my hands. It’s hard to hold on to.”

“Practice on me now,” he says.

I scoff. “I should have used it to stop you from making that deal with Dragon.”

“Draggun,” he corrects with a smirk.

I narrow my eyes at him. “ Stop smirking at me.”

The smile disappears from his face. “See?” he says. “Easy.”

“ Get on your knees for me, ” I tell him.

He tilts his head, jaw flexing with a grit of his teeth as his knees bend and he sinks to the ground. “As much as I don’t enjoy this,” he tells me. “I’m proud of you.”

“ Declare your undying love for me. Loudly.”

He sucks in a breath. “Everyone! Listen up! I love Jessie MacMahon more than I’ve ever loved another. She is smart, brave, cunning, and bold. And sexy as hell. And when she’s in the bedroom with my c?—”

I rush over to him, clamping my hand over his mouth. I can see the glint of a naughty smile in his eyes. “You’re an asshole,” I tell him.

“You started it,” he says, the words muffled behind my hand.

When I pull away, he rises to his feet and scoops me into his arms. “You’ll do fine, princess. That barely took any effort at all.”

Using my power on Bran when not under pressure is one thing. But I don’t say that. I’m tired of defeating myself before I’ve even begun.

Because I think my voice, my power, might be our best weapon to use against the Summer Queen. And if I fail…

I can’t even fathom what will become of me and Bran if I do.