Gold: A Bandia Novel Part 2

Mick takes the coffee grounds from me and presses them into a small metal cup. "I've been wondering if Joe was wise to send you here."

"Why?" As far as I can tell no one knows where I am. I checked in with my parents online, but even they knew better than to ask where I went.

Mick adds more grounds to the cup and slides it into the contraption, in no hurry to answer my question. He places a small gla.s.s underneath the spout before he presses a b.u.t.ton and looks up. "You saw how Rhiannon reacted when you arrived. The people here know well enough the destruction that a single bandia can bring. They're at least as a much of a danger to you as the Sons."

"You mean the locals? But they're humans." "You shouldn't underestimate them. Humans were responsible for defeating the G.o.ds the first time."

"But I'm on their side."

Mick arches a brow. "Are you sure you're a bandia?" "I wish I wasn't."

Mick focuses on the dark liquid as it finishes pouring into the little cup, but he has a curious look in his eyes. "You are an enigma."

"An enigma?"

"An enigma inside a mystery and wrapped in magic that you're afraid to use."

"I'm not afraid to use it." That's the problem. I can't seem to stop myself.

Mick hands me the tiny cup of black sludge. "It's probably best if you don't go into town. There will be rumors. We can't stop them, but there's no need to fuel them either."

"So I'm trapped here? Like some girl in an ivory tower?"

"It's just a suggestion."

"Of course it is." I add two cubes of sugar to the tiny cup of coffee. It won't be enough to mask the bitter taste, but Mick doesn't keep vanilla syrup on hand, and the odds of my getting some steamed milk are less than zero. "Can I take the car?"

"I think there might be a bit of the bandia in you after all. I suppose you won't listen when I say you should stay in one place for a while."

I can't stay cooped up here forever. I stride toward the door, but stop halfway. "Who was Aaron Montgomery?"

"Ah." Mick leans against the stone countertop.

"He was Austin, wasn't he?"

He tilts his head. "The last incarnation before the thousand years he was locked away in the underworld."

How did I see Austin from over a thousand years ago? Why? I shouldn't be here. "If you won't give me the keys, will you at least take me into town?"

"It's not a good idea."

"I won't stay here."

He almost smiles. "I didn't say I wouldn't take you."

FIVE.

The town is even more magical up close. It looks the same as I imagine it did centuries ago, with stone streets and stone buildings and wood facades painted in bright colors. We stop at the bakery with the little cakes, and I eat three of them while Mick sips a cup of raspberry tea.

No one pays any attention to us. "I don't know what you were worried about," I say as I bite into another little cake. It's sweet without being sugary.

"No sense taking risks if you don't have to." "The Sons don't know where I am, do they?" Mick shakes his head. "I told you the Sons aren't your only concern. The Milesians are every bit as dangerous." "The Milesians?" The Sons descended from the human warriors tasked with ridding Ireland of the last vestiges of magic. "But the Sons are the Milesians."

"Were. Killian became something more after he bonded with Danu. Cursed with the dark powers of a G.o.d, he became the very thing the Milesians sought to destroy." "I get that, but Killian went on killing the descendants of the G.o.ds." His powers made him very successful. He eradicated all the remaining demiG.o.d lines except Danu's.

And, while the bandia descended from Danu believed that Killian killed Danu, I knew the truth. Austin killed Danu to spark a war between Killian's heirs and the bandia. Mick stirs a cube of sugar into his tea. "Killian wasn't the only human warrior. The Milesians still exist, Brianna.

They are at least as dangerous as the Sons."

"Does anyone actually like the bandia?"

"I like you fine."

Shannon walks into the little bakery. She sees me and smiles warmly before walking up to our little table. "How are you?" She strings the words together so fast they sound like one word.

"Good." It's hard not to smile back.

Shannon's hair is plaited in a long braid that falls between her shoulder blades, but her bangs nearly cover her eyes. "I wanted to apologize for my mum. She's not as off her nut as she sounded. She's only marginally insane." "It's fine," I say. Your mom was exactly right about me. "I work at the dress shop around the corner now. We have some beautiful party dresses. You should come." "I don't think I'll be going to any parties while I'm here." I don't think I'll be going to any parties for a while.

Not when the last one ended up in a blaze of blue fire. "You should come anyway." Her smile is so genuine, that I'm tempted to take her up on it.

Mick waits until Shannon leaves before he tries to talk me out of it. "She's harmless, but her mother is a different story."

"I like her."

"You need to lay low."

"I'm not going to spend the rest of my life under house arrest. It's not like I can't defend myself."

"That's what I'm afraid of."

"Oh." I stare down at the tray of tea cakes, my appet.i.te gone. Is that why Mick doesn't want me around the villagers without a babysitter? Does he think I'll lose control of my power?

I had thought I had my power under control. There was no question that it seemed to come at me quicker, stronger, the more I was around the Sons, but I was always able to keep it to a low simmer. Maybe if Mallory hadn't chosen that exact moment, with fire still lingering at the edge of my self-control, to confront me at her party, I could've stopped it.

Blake's little sister had marched up to me as I stood behind the tree, her arms crossed tight across her chest, wrinkling the smooth lines of her designer dress. "I didn't want you here." Mallory had the same silver blonde hair as Blake, but that's where the similarities ended. Blake's easy confidence and friendly smile drew people in. Mallory was pretty, but her features were sharp, her body stiff. Untouchable.

She probably thought her statement was some shocking revelation. I almost wanted to laugh, but she was only fifteen, so I tried to appease her instead. "I wouldn't have come, but I think Blake wants us to get to know each other."

Mallory's eyes got huge. "Why? I know everything I need to know about you. You're a witch. You don't belong here."

I took a breath, checking to be sure the fire inside me wasn't going to fight me for control. I was pretty sure that taking down the birthday girl in a ball of flame was a party faux pas. "And you feel the need to tell me this because?"

"I know what you are. Everyone knows. You might be able to lead my brother around by his d.i.c.k but you're nothing to me. Less than nothing."

Her words shouldn't have hurt. It wasn't anything worse than what I'd heard a hundred times from Sierra or Portia or any of the breeders. I couldn't help the bitter laugh that escaped my lips. Everyone thought Blake was with me for the s.e.x. The truth was we hadn't been alone together since we broke the bond. The one time we were, Blake wouldn't let it get that far. He denied it, but we both knew the truth: he was afraid of bonding again.

I couldn't expect her to understand Blake and me. Not when I didn't understand it myself.

"There's no such thing as less than nothing." I tried to ignore my blood's rising temperature and focus on something more rational. "Under the theory of infinite smallness things can always be halved, shaved into smaller and smaller parts."

Mallory blinked. "Whatever. Why don't you go find my brother so you can screw him and leave?"

I glanced over to the barbecue. Portia stood next to Blake, her eyes flitting from her sandals to Blake's charming smile. He looked relaxed, almost happy. More comfortable with the daughter of the Sons' leader than he could ever be with me.

I used to know exactly what Blake felt. h.e.l.l, I felt it. When we were bonded, we were so tied that we shared each other's emotions. I knew when his smile was a carefully constructed facade. But that was before. All I had at Mallory's party was my own loneliness as I navigated a house full of people who would prefer I was dead. My own jealousy as I noticed how genuine Blake's smile appeared as he talked to Portia.

Mallory followed my gaze and let out an unkind laugh. "Maybe my brother's finally coming to his senses."

I didn't need this brat rubbing it in. "You better hope not." I turned to face her, letting the fire come. I raised my hand so she could see the blue flames arc between my fingers. "He's the only one keeping you alive."

She backed up a step, eyes wide. "Witch."

The blood under my skin was hot. I wouldn't be able to stop the fire this time.

Mallory backed up another step.

For the first time since I got to the party, I felt empowered. Strong. Mallory might be a seventh generation daughter of Killian, but only the Sons manifested the demiG.o.d's power. She was just a breeder.

Human.

I moved my hand to the right, letting the fire fly from my fingers. The blue flame sailed past Mallory, but she screamed anyway. The fireball hit the center of a large swimming pool with a blue flash that fizzled and vanished almost as soon as it sparked. The loss of fire made me instantly cold.

A group of breeders standing by the pool looked around with mild panic, trying to find the source of the blue flash. I stepped out from behind the palm tree and smiled.

Let them look.

Let them see that their months of persecution had not rendered me weak. It only made me stronger. They shouldn't hurl stones as if I were a defenseless girl.

I s.h.i.+vered, but not from the cold. Was I seriously considering hurting these people? What was I becoming?

I wasn't lying to Rush when I told him I was no threat to his people. I was lying to myself.

Blake saw me now. His blonde hair glowed against the setting sun, shading his face in darkness.

Even after all this time, I reached for his emotions, finding only my own anger and frustration and fear. His body language gave away nothing. Ever the poker player, Blake's expression was a mask of polite interest. If I was closer, I might see the vein along the line of his neck stand out, the one tell he couldn't master.

It would only be a matter of seconds before Rush and Jonah appeared in their demiG.o.d forms. They wouldn't let my display of power go unchallenged.

Everything happened so quickly after that.

A flash of blue light flew over the people gathered outside and exploded in flame on the roof of Blake's house. People screamed and ran as an explosion rocked the west side of the home. Blue fire was everywhere.

I couldn't feel it.

I couldn't stop it either.

SIX.

When Mick and I get back to Lorcan Hall, I'm still restless. I pull on a jacket and walk behind the house toward the edge of the bluff. The waves below crash and churn against the rocks, sending sprays of water straight up. It's nothing like the rhythmic sounds of the waves rolling into the beach in California. There's no order to the swirls of riptides, waves colliding and attacking before being swallowed by another rush of water from behind.

Water stirs inside me, there before I even call it, a power as strong as the ocean. As wild. I conjure a wall of water and push it over the bluff with as much force as I can summon. It rushes out across the rocks before collapsing and merging with the sea.

This small display of power does nothing to curb the ache in my chest. I want to be closer somehow. Part of the sea. I walk along the bluff until I find a worn switchback trail that leads down to a rocky beach. I pick my way down the trail slowly. By the time I get to the bottom, the sun dips behind dark clouds. The days last forever here, the sun clinging to the earth until nearly midnight, as if to make up for the constant cloud cover.

Something calls to me here, singing to my blood. It's a pounding in my chest, a drumbeat that pushes me forward. The water looks even wilder from the sh.o.r.e, waves cras.h.i.+ng against tall rocks that soar above me. The wind carries the sea in its grasp, creating its own icy current that pelts my cheeks. This beach has no sand, just rocks in all shapes and sizes arranged haphazardly. A small pa.s.sageway veers between two boulders, large enough for a person to pa.s.s through.

I make my way across, slipping through the boulders to another, smaller beach. The air swirls through the rocks, trapped against the bluff and boulders, creating a natural wind tunnel. It should be freezing, but steam billows from a crack in the rock wall that rises up at least a hundred feet from where I stand. There's a glint of gold behind the cloud of steam, and I move toward it instinctively.

Wind, water, fire and earth converge at once, all my powers harnessed into one chaotic surge. It's overwhelming and incredible. I lift my hands up to the sky, wanting to take it all in, alive with the elements pulsing through my veins, pulsing through this place.

The power that fills me is stronger than any I've felt before, yet I feel peaceful, calm. This wildness is who I am. I let fire, wind, and water out to the ocean in one burst, as the ground shakes beneath my feet. A flash of blue lights up the darkening sky, creating lightning like arcs that flare out in several directions at once.

The wall beside me rumbles and shakes.

I freeze.

I reach for the earth, finding it, quiet and undisturbed.

I can't feel the wall moving. I can't control it.

No.

It can't be happening again.

I move away from the wall instinctively. The rumbling continues. Not in the wall, behind it. The sound gets louder. Something is coming.

I take a few more steps backward, not taking my eyes off the shaking cliff. A rock falls to the ground a few feet away from me. I run to the shelter of the two boulders. The opening in the rock groans and shakes, opening with a loud crack that sends another shower of rocks to the ground.

A dark shape sails through, landing with a hard thud on the ground, barely missing the boulder I crouch behind.

The wall cracks and groans again before sealing itself tight with a final shudder.

I stare at the dark figure on the ground, waiting for it to rise up and attack. But it doesn't move. I take a tentative step forward. A s.h.i.+rtless guy lays on the rocks, still and unmoving. A body?

I move the rest of the way to him, kneeling down to place my hand on his neck. There's a pulse. I pull on his arm, rolling him on to his back.

Austin's lips curl up into a familiar crooked smile. He's draped in ancient plaid, a thick piece of fabric around his waist, but he's not glowing gold like he normally does in his true form. His jeweled broadsword is nowhere to be seen. He's filthy, still covered with clumps of rock and debris from the cliff wall, but the dirt can't mask the sculpted lines of his face and the perfect proportions of his body. He is, after all, a G.o.d.

I drop his shoulder, letting him fall back against the rocky ground.

"That hurts." Austin blinks, propping himself up on an elbow. "That shouldn't hurt."

"And you shouldn't be here," I say. Should. Not. He's supposed to be trapped in the underworld for a thousand years. By my count, he still has over nine hundred ninety nine years to go.

Austin groans and closes his eyes. Beneath the smudges on his face, his skin looks sallow and pale. Sweat beads along his brow. I touch my palm to his forehead. He's burning up.

The ocean fills me, cooling my hand before I can think to call it. It's becoming so instinctual, that the elements come to me almost unconsciously now. Like I am part of them. Except when they take on a life of their own.