The Banshee's Revenge (The Banshee's Embrace Trilogy) (5 page)

"Is she?" Gabe watched an unreadable emotion flicker across Toby's face. "Maybe that's what Gwydion wants."

Toby frowned and raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Look, Jacqueline wants to kill wizards. Maybe Gwydion wants her to come here, thinking that she'll kill us. While she's busy with that, he'll try and get the jump on her." Gabe grinned sourly. "Of course, that won't work. Jacqueline still loves you."

"I hope so. So much has happened to her," Toby muttered. "I just had a very interesting conversation in the woods with Morrigan."

"Morrigan? Celtic goddess Morrigan?" Gabe glanced at the darkness his father had come from and then grinned slyly. "Was she hot?"

"Yes and yes." A faint grin of his own lifted the corners of Toby's mouth for a moment. "But, like Gwydion, she mentioned Nature being out of balance. And you may be right about Gwydion trying to draw Jacqueline out. I found Foster, one of the council members of the Brotherhood, dead in the woods. He is never far from Gwydion's side."

"Did Jacqueline kill him?"

Toby shrugged, but Gabe saw the pain flash through his eyes.

"What else did Morrigan want?" Gabe pushed harder when Toby didn't answer. "C'mon. She had to have appeared to you for a reason."

"She told me how to save Jacqueline."

"Well, that's good. Right?"

"I don't know. Jacqueline is pregnant."

Stunned, Gabe could only stare at the other man as all the possible ramifications of his words processed in his head. A baby. A banshee wizard baby. A baby whose mother had swallowed the essence of Death.

"And I thought I was fucked up," he said softly.

Toby's look of misery made him wish he'd kept his mouth shut.

Before he could apologize, the hair's on the back of Gabe's neck prickled.

"Did you feel that?" Toby asked, looking around and equally alert. "The energy shift?"

"Yeah." Gabe also surveyed the area, reaching out with his senses and finding the presence of another wizard close by. 

"Gwydion." Toby cocked his head to the side. "He's powerful enough to hide his essence though."

"He wants us to know he's here. It must be demonstration time. He said he had something to show us." Gabe concentrated on the location of the energy signature. "He's in the bar."

Thoughts of Angela crossed his mind. What if he hurts her?

Gabe wouldn't stand for that.

As if one, both men turned and headed towards the back door of Merlyn's Bar.

The back of the bar buzzed with boozy laughter and the clink of pool balls.

"Yes!" A young woman jumped up and down, banging her pool stick on the ground as she shouted at her boyfriend, "I finally beat you!"

Laughter swelled at her exclamation and a few people clapped in approval. It seemed the crowd had grown in size since Toby had been outside--though that was typical. The later the hour, the more people seemed to drop by for a beer. Normally, he would have welcomed the business, but tonight, the crowd had him on edge.

The last thing he wanted was for innocent people to get hurt.

Toby and Gabe stood at the back entrance of the bar, searching for Gwydion's energy signature.

What was the old wizard up to?

Alert, Toby walked through the bar, aware of the strong scent of alcohol and cigarette smoke mixed together. The sight of Angela serving beers irritated him, but there was nothing he could do about that right now.

Stay focused
, he told himself.
Find that old bastard
.

The front door opened and two men staggered in to Merlyn's Bar. The younger one--a redhead guy with a ruddy face--lost his balance, slipping down on one knee. His older companion helped him back up, slinging an arm around the redhead's waist before hauling him to standing and glancing over at Toby and Gabe.

Both men looked into the eyes of Gwydion and felt rage stir inside them.

The old wizard only grinned slyly and turned back to the young man he supported. Toby watched him help the drunk move to a bar stool before nodding to Gabe. His son began cautiously inching their direction.

"What a pretty red-headed lass ye are!" The young man's Irish lilt was loud and boisterous as he spoke to Angela. "Being a red head myself, I have a weakness for it in women. I'd sure to love to take ya back to my place, see if your hair is red everywhere."

He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"Easy there lover boy," Angela laughed. "I think you've already had a few too many. Where were you before you came here?"

"At the pub, of course. It's just 'round the corner." The young man smiled appealingly and held out his hands. "But they didn't sell the finest brew in the land like you serve up here."

Toby couldn't help wonder where "just 'round the corner" was. Merlyn's Bar was located at the end of long, tree-lined road.

"Still, I don't think I can serve you. We have rules about that stuff." Angela turned to her attention on Gwydion. "You as drunk as this one?"

"No ma'am," he answered. "I'm just taking care of him."

"Well, if getting him drunk as a skunk was your mission, I'd say he's well taken care of."

"A man like me has many missions."

"A woman like me has little time to hear about them. What do you want to drink?"

"A Guinness, please."

Angela went to get the beer and Gabe took the opportunity to slide behind the bar. As she came back in, he took it from her.

"I'll handle this customer," he said, roughly. "You go sit back down."

"O-o-okay." Angela frowned at his tone, but didn't question him. "I've got to go to the ladies room anyway."

As she walked away, Toby moved behind Gwydion.

"I told you to leave." Gabe spoke softly, but his voice dripping with anger. "You should have listened."

"No, it's you that should have listened." Gwydion chuckled. "And Toby, you can stop breathing down my neck. I know you're behind me."

"Get out, Gwydion," Toby said, "before it gets ugly."

"Oh, it's too late for that. I’m glad you're here for the demonstration. Maybe this will convince you something needs to be done about the banshee you let warm your bed." Gwydion turned to the younger man. "Daniel, it's time for you to complete the little project you agreed to help me with. Tell these gentlemen where you are from."

"From here of course!" The young man peered up at Gwydion's face. "Where else?"

"And where is here?"

"Are ye daft man? Dalkey is the name of our village."

"Would that be
Dalkey
,
Ireland
?"

"You know it as well as I. You come into the McCloud's Pub every week. Don't see how you could forget that!" Daniel rubbed his red, rimmed eyes. "You need ‘ter lay off the Guinness, old man."

"How long have you lived in Dalkey?"

"My whole life. Whole generations of me family were born and bred there."

"And your family name? What is that?"

Toby groaned inwardly, already certain he knew. Gwydion's plan was easy to see now. Thinking fast, Toby readied a time spell to slow everything down if things got ugly.

"O'Grady. My folks have all been O'Gradys."

Jacqueline's clan--the people she was meant to provide guidance for at the time of their death.

"Thank you for your help, Daniel." Gwydion smiled and held out his hand. "I hope this doesn't hurt too much."

A knife materialized on Gwydion's palm and quicker than the average mortal could see he plunged it straight into Daniel's chest.

Toby began to chant a spell, but Gabe was faster.

All around them, the sounds of the bar stopped abruptly. People were frozen in time, beers to their lips or mouths open in mid-laugh. Though Toby was accomplished at creating the same sort of spell, he had to admit Gabe's was much faster and more effective.

"Nice try," Gwydion said. "But you're still too late for young, Daniel here. Your spell may have frozen most things in this bar, but I'll always be stronger. You can't stop time for this wretched fool."

Blood gushed down Daniel's shirt from the knife protruding in his chest. For a moment, the young man stared down at the bone handle as if he couldn't quite believe his eyes. Shock took over quickly, and he slumped to one side before falling off the chair. 

Toby knelt beside him, but already knew there was nothing he could do.

Daniel's eyes filled with the coldness of death.

Even as he watched, Toby couldn't help the small hope that flickered in his chest. Jacqueline would have to come now. This man was of her clan and it was her duty to ferry his soul to the other side. In fact, he should be able to hear her haunting call at any moment.

But there was nothing. All around him the crowd was silent, frozen in time and space.

"Did you think she would come?" Gwydion asked and then gestured to Daniel's prone form. "She doesn't care about this man."

"He's of her clan," Toby said. "She'll be here. That's what you wanted, isn't it?"

"Don't be foolish. I don't go around killing souls just to call up some half banshee." Gwydion shook his head in distaste. "I did this to show you something."

"That you're an evil son of a bitch?" Gabe asked. "We already knew that."

"Hush," Gwydion commanded, "and open your eyes. This man isn't done yet."

Daniel stirred on the ground.

Toby slowly stood, eyes fixed on the man who should have been dead. Hell, he
had
been dead.

But Daniel's eyes fluttered and opened.

"What happened?" Daniel sat up, grunting at the effort until he caught sight of the knife. He stared down in astonishment at the weapon still protruding from his chest. "Oh, sweet Jesus. What the hell is that?"

Gwydion reached over, and without ceremony, yanked the weapon free.

"You were stabbed and killed," the wizard said.

"Killed? What are you talking about?" Frantic, Daniel got to his feet, terror on his face as he discovered the blood on his shirt and the pool of it on the floor where he'd lain. "What kind of trickery is this?"

"Calm yourself," Gwydion ordered and passed his hand over Daniel's face. Immediately, the Irishman relaxed. His eyes took on a drugged glaze. "Do you remember dying?"

"A little." Daniel frowned as if trying to grasp a memory. "I was outside of my body, but I felt as if I had nowhere to go."

"It's a near death experience." Gabe watched Daniel closely. "That's what he's talking about, right?"

"Gabe, the man was stabbed in the heart. There's no way he could come back and be this sprightly with that kind of injury," Toby pointed out.  "He
was
dead."

"And yet, Jacqueline did not claim his soul," Gwydion said. "It had nowhere else to go but back in his mortal remains. Hold out your wrist, Daniel, and let Toby feel your pulse. I dare say you won't find one."

Before Daniel could protest, Toby reached over and grabbed his arm. Just as Gwydion said, there was no pulse.

"Shit!" Toby sat heavily on bar stool. "This can't be good."

"Oh, it's not," Gwydion said. "There's no relief for him. No death. Just a rotting vessel. He may as well be a zombie."

"I'm not a zombie!" Daniel protested, some of the panic coming back into his eyes. "You're all daft."

"It will get worse," Gwydion ignored the outburst. "As time goes on, his body will decompose. I've seen it happen in several places in
Ireland
in more than one branch of the O'Grady clan. Considering the size of the family and the many generations that have immigrated throughout the decades to the
United States
, I've no doubt it is happening here, too."

"What can be done about it?" Toby asked.

"Unless Jacqueline comes to her senses, nothing. For every soul she takes that doesn't belong to her, Nature retaliates in this way. Sooner or later, there are going to be questions and attention will be drawn to us wizards. I know how you have always supported the need for magic to be kept away from the prying eyes of mortals, Toby. This could jeopardize that." Gwydion stood. "That's why you need to help me stop her."

"You mean kill her." Toby crossed his arms and fixed a steely gazed on the old wizard. "No. I won't let you do that. By the way… she took out Foster tonight. I found him more or less boiled by the river."

"I knew he would be a handy distraction for her. Poor simple Foster." Gwydion nodded in mock sympathy, but Toby could see a simmering rage flickering in his eyes. "I want you to look long and hard at this pitiful creature before you. Right now, he isn't so bad off, but as time goes by…there will be terrible things awaiting him--decomposition, a loss of sanity. Is that what you want for all those that your banshee neglects? A life equivalent to a zombie?"

Gwydion strode to the center of the room.