Soul (Chaos #1)

Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine

Downstairs, Brendan waited for us in a small ordinary-looking office. He sat behind a desk, leaving me a little disappointed. I had expected fae glitz and glam. The only oddity was the half-naked faery serving tea.

Sorcha stood behind Brendan's chair, her eyes shrewd and cruel. I shivered under the chill of her glare. Brendan gestured for me to take a seat. I obliged and, in turn, motioned for Grim and Realtín to sit next to me. Grinning, Realtín flew onto my shoulder and sat with her tiny arm around my neck. Grim hesitantly moved to my side, but he remained standing.

Brendan kept his keen gaze on me, as if trying to work me out. I stared back at Drake's face, knowing I could never trust him but still resisting the urge to just reach out and touch him.

"First, I must apologise for the attempt on your life," Brendan said. "I've been gone for a long time, and I have some catching up to do when it comes to political friends or foe. Still, it was a lesson. It was good to see who made the first move." He sighed. "And not unexpected at all."

"So I'm bait now?"

"You're in danger now," he said. "And I still need things from you. Help me willingly, and you'll be rewarded. Have you seen the damage?"

"You mean the crime wave? I heard about it. Doesn't mean it's fae influenced though."

His smile was cold. "You know the truth. It will only get worse. I can bring control back to the chaos, but it would be much simpler if you agreed to attend the ceremony on my behalf."

"Why me?"

"You were the one at the solstice festival," he said.

"Yes, but why was I there? Why me?"

He leaned forward, his palms together. "I may be addressed as a king, but even I have to adhere to tradition and ancient rules. On the night of my resurrection, certain rules were on hand. They were broken, which gave me the opportunity to return."

"What rules?" I asked.

"The best way for the Irish fae to regain some control was to have one of their most precious rites threatened. If the blood of a true child of Ireland was forcibly spilled at the Irish fae's own festival, it would have freed them to act against the queens. Trickery to call this child into the festival, perhaps, but the queens made their own choices. Nobody forced them to desire sacrificial blood, and they should have known better. Even blood can't fight against the waning of power on one of the most important nights of the year. We could have let this play out, but when the queens turned on each other even before blood was spilled, the way was clear. We needed that child alive to bear witness to events-a pure, unbiased voice to clear any stains from my name over the events that occurred on that night."

"I hear you wouldn't have a problem without me," I blurted.

He glowered. "You hear too much, it seems. We need to be sure. There can be no chances taken. It's too important an opportunity to waste. Sorcha guided you to the festival that night, it is true, but you were safe. Your arrival merely helped the queens make a choice. Unfortunately for them, they made bad choices. Their tragic ends were of their own making. Now I have to claim the throne and restore my original power. There are pretenders, but I have blood on my side. And you, of course."

"Wait a minute. You're saying I'm the true child? What's a true child of Ireland? And why would I want to speak for you? Sorcha didn't keep me safe, Drake did. And look what's happening to him. If you think I'm unbiased, you're sadly mistaken. You've done this. You-"

"If you want Drake to win his body back, you'll help me."

Sorcha flinched.

Yet I still wanted to believe him. "You can do that?"