Reunion (49 page)

She knew who the voices belonged to. She knew what they wanted. And they terrified her.

Come back
, the voices beckoned.
We need you. Come back.

Brydie couldn't understand how they could be calling her. They were barely a day old. And yet the voices of Hope and Calamity filled her head, making her wish she had died in childbirth.

As if not being able to block out their voices was enough, every time she closed her eyes she saw them. The stark blue-on-blue eyes. The pointed Faerie ears, the shock of dark hair and those mouths full of tiny, pointed teeth.

Brydie didn't know if the babies were deformed because of the long time they'd spent unrealized in the womb, trapped by a
djinni
spell along with her for years, or because Darragh's seed was corrupt. In the end, it didn't matter. The babies weren't babies. They were monsters. And they knew what she was thinking.

She tried to explain it to the nurses who came to tend her, but they hadn't seen the babies. They weren't appalled by what she'd seen. They weren't repulsed. They weren't even frightened.

I should be frightened
, Brydie knew.
I should be terrified.
And so should everyone else here.
Don't they understand the danger?

Don't be frightened of us, mama. We love you.

Brydie screamed and buried her face into the soft pillow, pulling the edges up about her ears.

Teagan had stayed with her for most of the day, but couldn't understand what was upsetting the young woman so much. She was sitting beside Brydie on the bed and reached out with a comforting hand to pat her on the shoulder, as if that small gesture could in some way mitigate the enormity of Brydie's distress. "It'll be okay, Brydie."

"Can't you hear them?" Brydie asked, sitting up so sharply she was afraid the stab of pain across her lower abdomen meant she'd burst her stitches.

"I think they're sleeping."

"I don't mean that," Brydie snapped. "Can't you hear them in your head? Aren't they calling to you?"

"It's probably your hormones," Teagan suggested. "I hear they do crazy things to new mothers."

Brydie didn't even know what hormones were. But she knew patronizing condescension when she heard it. "Get out."

"What?"

"You heard me, get out."

"Mother told me I had to stay with you."

Mother loves us. Mother knows how special we are.

"I don't care. I want to sleep," Brydie said, trying hard to ignore the voices. She realized that seeming hysterical was only going to make Teagan watch her closer. She forced a smile. "I'm tired, Teagan. Really, I just want to sleep."

Sleep with us. We love you. Come to us. We want you here with us.

Teagan seemed undecided, probably conflicted over her orders to watch Brydie and Brydie's demand that she leave.

"Maybe I should talk to Mother myself," Brydie suggested, guessing it would take something as important as fetching Mother to get Teagan out of here. "Would you get her for me."

Don't talk to Mother. Come to us. We want you.

"I don't know, Brydie. It's getting late and Mother doesn't like to be disturbed when she's at dinner. Particularly when she has guests."

Come now. Come to us now.

Don't worry, my darlings. I'm coming soon,
Brydie told her daughters, not even sure they would hear or understand her.
As soon as I get rid of Teagan.

But they did hear her. Almost as soon as she'd formed the thought, Teagan rose to her feet and announced in a voice devoid of emotion. "I will fetch Mother for you."

Without waiting for Brydie to respond, Teagan turned and headed for the door.

There. She is gone now. Come to us, mama. We're hungry.

Brydie shuddered as she realized Hope and Calamity must have made Teagan leave.
Gods, can they control everyone? What about me? Can they make me do things too?

We would never hurt you, mama. We love you.

Brydie closed her eyes and made herself think of nothing but being a good mother. That's what they wanted, after all. Their mother. With her eyes squeezed tightly shut, she waited until Teagan's footsteps faded down the hall outside and then threw back the covers.

"I'm coming, my darlings," she whispered, hoping the thought was filling her head as she picked up one of the large fluffy pillows she'd been resting on.
I'm coming to take care of you.

With a grimace, Brydie pulled the needle from the back of her hand and let it drop to the floor. The vein on her hand began to drip blood, but she didn't try to stem the flow. She didn't have time. Hope and Calamity were calling to her. She had to take care of them.

I'm coming to take care of you.

She kept repeating the phrase in her head as she headed down the wide hall toward the nursery.

I'm coming to take care of you.

Brydie smiled at Ana when she opened the door. The nurse was dozing in the rocking chair by the window. It was almost dark outside. The nursery was lit by a small nightlight on the side table next to Ana's chair.

The nurse opened her eyes and stared myopically at Brydie for a moment, and then she smiled. "You've come to visit with the bairns then?"

Brydie nodded. "Can I have a few moments with them? Alone?"

I'm coming to take care of you.

Ana pushed herself out the chair, nodding. "Of course. I'll go fetch a cuppa. They're asleep at the moment, but once they wake, I can help you with feeding them."

They weren't asleep, Brydie knew.
They're waiting for me.

I'm coming to take care of you.

The nurse left the room without commenting on the pillow Brydie carried. She didn't notice the blood dripping from Brydie's hand or question what had happened to the drip stand, just smiled at Brydie as she closed the door behind her.

Brydie turned toward the cradle.
I'm coming to take care of you.

She approached the cradle rocking gently in the center of the room. When she reached it, she stopped to study it for a moment.

I'm coming to take care of you.

Brydie glanced down at the pillow she carried and wondered if it would be enough. It was stained with blood from her hand, which seemed fitting somehow. The twins appeared to be sleeping peacefully, curled together like soft, deadly petals, the one on the left sucking her thumb, the other making soft suckling motions with her mouth, unconsciously mirroring her sister. The girls seemed unaware of the thoughts Brydie's incessant mental chanting was concealing.

I'm coming to take care of you.

They seemed blissfully ignorant of their approaching death. Brydie found that quite odd.
Whatever made these children what they are, does it not give them some inkling of approaching danger?

They looked so innocent. With their eyes closed, their teeth not showing and their heads covered by knitted bonnets to keep them warm, they even looked human.

One of girls was stirring - they were too alike to tell which was which. She opened her eyes to stare up at Brydie, her expression disturbingly alert and aware for one so young.

I'm coming to take care of you.

Her strange eyes saw right into Brydie. Her sister remained asleep, still peacefully sucking her thumb.

I'm coming to take care of you.

Which will be harder? Brydie wondered. Killing the one who is asleep and ignorant of her fate, or the one staring up at me?

Am I strong enough to fight them off if they try to stop me?

Brydie changed her grip on the pillow and smiled down at the waking twin.
I'm coming to take care of you. I'm coming to take care of you,
she chanted in her mind, not sure what they would do if they realized her intentions.

The baby smiled up at Brydie, revealing the horrifying row of sharp, needle-like teeth.

I'm coming to take care of you
, Brydie thought, steeling her resolve.

It didn't matter who they were. It's
what
they were. That was the important thing.

Mama's here
, the voice in her head rejoiced.
She's coming to take care of us.

Brydie didn't hear the door opening behind her, or the gasp of horror as she was discovered. She was smiling down at her daughter, who stared at her with a gaze so trusting and serene, it was heartbreaking.

So aware and malevolent, it was terrifying.

But not heartbreaking nor terrifying enough, to stay her hand.

Brydie raised the pillow she was holding, transfixed by the dangerous blue-on-blue eyes staring up at her. And then she brought it down sharply, holding the pillow firmly over the babies' heads without remorse or regret. She was quick and, she hoped, merciful, but the link between the sisters was quicker.

"Brydie," she dimly heard Teagan cry behind her. "What are doing?"

Mama? What are you doing?

The babies began to thrash about, starved of oxygen. The light on the side table began to flicker.

I promised I'd take care of you, my darlings, and I will.

But they were quicker than Brydie, quicker than Teagan, and far more ruthless than the mother who wanted them to die. Before Teagan's cries for help could be heard, Brydie's head was filled with their panicked screams, and then a pressure filled her whole body. She fought the screams. She fought the mental begging for mercy, determined to be rid of these monsters.

The monsters responded in kind.

I promised I'd take care of you.

It was Brydie's last thought as the pressure inside her exploded. She vaguely heard Teagan's horrified screams as she rushed to remove the pillow from the babies, and then a feeling of deep regret was the last glimmer of thought or emotion Brydie had before she ceased to exist.

With a burst of pure malevolence, Brydie was splattered across the walls of the nursery in a spray of blood and gore. Even her bones were so pulverized by the force of the twin's determination to stop her, there was nothing left of her at all.

The dining room was on the ground floor. A silent acolyte led Ren and Darragh downstairs through what was obviously a renovated castle. There were plenty of them in Ireland, sold off by their impoverished owners whose titles did little to offset the cost of running such hideously expensive buildings. Those that weren't left to rot were bought by corporations and converted into expensive hotels, their once proud halls now hosting the lifeblood of the Republic of Ireland's tourist industry - rich Irish-Americans searching out their roots.

When they arrived, the dining room was empty of any other guests. The long polished table was set for three, Ren noted with some relief. Darragh's suggestion that they were going to be put on show - like some sort of meat auction - proved to be wrong. Of course, it also meant the whole dressing for dinner thing was either a joke, or an alarming indication of the mindset of the mysterious Mother.

Ren had encountered the title before, when he was stealing the memories of the other twins he had killed, but he'd never really understood there was one Mother who seemed to outrank the others. In a matriarchal organization like the
Matrarchaí
, it was easy to mistake the title as one that applied to many women. As he'd been dealing with the lower ranks - or at least the ranks a few degrees removed from the high command - it had never occurred to him that one woman might be behind it all.

"No bevy of willing wombs waiting for us," Ren remarked as he walked past the long table to the window.

"Would you think me appalling if I said I was disappointed?"

"Given your accommodation for the past ten years, I can probably understand it," Ren said, peering into the gathering darkness. The bright sunlight of the morning was forgotten. The night was crowding in, made even darker by an angry sky full of lumbering storm clouds, just waiting their opportunity to vent their fury on the earth beneath them.

"You know, the last time ... well, there was this girl ... back in our realm before I came here. Álmhath threw her at me at the shindig I hosted in
Sí an Bhrú
the night before they told me they'd found our replacements. We went at it like rabbits for days until I came looking for you. What was her name? Brendá? Brandy?"

"Brydie."

"Yeah, that's it." Darragh closed his eyes, as if he was reliving the moment. He didn't think to question how Ren knew her name. "Brydie. Brydie Ni'Seanan, her name was. I wonder what happened to her? She's probably married to some border lord Álmhath needed to appease by now, with a half dozen noisy brats and looking like an old woman."

"Probably."

Darragh looked across the room at Ren. "Tell me again what the Hag said."

Ren closed his eyes for a moment, trying to recall every word the Hag had told him, glad of the change of subject. He didn't want to talk about Brydie. He didn't think he was that good a liar. "She said the
Matrarchaí
are going to force Partition. That they intend to start over again. To reset the cosmos."

"I suppose that's reason enough for the Brethren to become involved."

Ren shrugged. "She told me she was helping because she'd Seen she must. She also said something about having a role to play. And some responsibility."

Darragh shook his head, still trying to grasp the scale of what the
Matrarchaí
were planning. "But ... such a plan is insane. Don't they realize there will be no more magic in their future if they do this? This world is depleted."

"According to the Hag, one life form making one planet uninhabitable through their technology does not alter the special nature of the reality in which it resides. Besides, they have a plan for that, too. It's why they've been breeding Empress and Emperor twins - so they can take over as many realities as they can, get rid of the
sídhe
, but leave the magic intact. Any reality connected to this one will be sucked in, with its magic for the taking, recharging this one."

"And then what? Have you seen this realm ... oh, well, of course you have. But I mean ... why bother? They've murdered most of the trees here for a start. How will they sustain it, even if a billion realities give up their magic to replenish this one? In a couple of generations they'll have used the magic up and they'll be screwed."