Page 43 of Fae Divided
Noah didn’t move far when he pulled away a few seconds later, swiping the heels of his hands over his eyes and then shoving them deep inside his pockets. His elbow pressed against James’ bicep.
“Have you found Grayson?” James asked, giving his son a chance to compose himself further.
“No.” Tucker crossed his arms, the veins in his temples distending as his jaw muscles clenched and unclenched. “But I will.”
“Wewill.” Samuel clasped his beta’s shoulder and squeezed. “Your brother’s no longer a part of Clan McCoy, but I don’t think his outcast status will end the threat to our people. Lord Daimhín has had over a thousand years to infest the nine regions and plot a long-term strategy. Nathan Sinclair’s part in Abby’s kidnapping proves that Grayson isn’t the sole high-profile Fae Touched the Sídhe has compromised.”
James had discovered through Tucker’s littermate that the farmhouse wasn’t the rebellion’s only base of operations; pockets of Athair rebels remained spread throughout the region. Throughout the country, and maybe the world. “What did the WSC’s príoh have to say about his king’s involvement?”
“McCoy claims ignorance, but swore he’d get to the truth,” Samuel said, a rough edge to his voice. “Sinclair will answer to me for his treatment of my Ca’anam.”
“And my brother knew—”
“He was under Fae compulsion. When Grayson’s found, I’ll offer him Clan Walker’s bond.”
Family and pack were the cornerstones of Ferwyn culture. There was no question Samuel would do everything in his power to prevent a clanmate’s sibling from going feral.
“But he is the enemy.” Tucker’s eyes as bleak as they were hard.
“He came through when it counted and deserves a second chance.” James heard his entreating tone and wondered who he was trying to convince of Grayson’s ability to permanently break the Fae Lord’s mental hold: Tucker or himself?
The unsanctioned vampire House in Mississippi had fled the area, but the Guard held the Ferwyn outcasts in custody. So far, Jenkins’ magical examinations found no evidence that Daimhín could influence them through the brand from afar. And unlike Tucker’s twin, the marked shifters swore they never ingested Elven blood.
James scrubbed at the burn on his neck that wouldn’t heal and prayed the distinction made all the difference.
Since his return, James learned the Guard’s ammunition expert, an old shifter named Buck, bore a different pureblood’s coat of arms on his nape; the mark seared into his skin as a child with a cattle iron heated by Anwyll fire and doused in magical ink. And although the homemade scar hadn’t faded in over three hundred years, baring a Sídhe Lord’s family crest alone didn’t appear to affect the Ferwyn adversely. But Buck’s brand was a replication and not the genuine article like James’. Like Grayson’s.
He wouldn’t feel safe until Daimhín was dead.
“He caged you,” Tucker said, his lips twisting like the confession tasted foul in his mouth.
“Grayson also gave me a chance to defend myself along with directly disobeying the order to take Sarah captive.” James’ vision went gold at the recalled threat to his mate, and the room quickly filled with the angry rumbles of protective males.
“I’m here.” Sarah reminded them. “I’m right here,” she said again, reaching across his torso to snag Noah’s hand. Their son’s growling trickled into a guttural hum at her reaffirming touch.
James stretched his neck from side to side and rolled his shoulders, reversing the descent of his canines and withdrawing his partially extended claws. He gathered Sarah closer and rubbed his whiskered chin over her soft, sandy-blond hair. He breathed in the soothing scent of his female, and the undiminished woodsy ginger smell from earlier.
“Any progress in tracking down Adam’s birth pack?” she asked, turning the topic from the fear of what might have been. She let go of Noah and rested her head on James’ chest. “His family deserves to know if not exactly what happened, at least that he’s gone.”
Daimhín’s fire had defied the laws of earthly physics. The flames burned Adam’s bones to less than ash. It left nothing of the shifter to bury, while the farmhouse lawn didn’t have a scorch mark.
“I’ve contacted the other regions’ príohs, and they all claim he was never one of theirs.”
“Maybe he came from a Clan outside the country?” Noah suggested.
“I didn’t detect an accent, and Adam smelled of truth when he professed to have served in the US armed forces until humans banned the Fae Touched from enlisting after World War II.” James shook his head. “He couldn’t have lived that long without forming attachments other than the ones with the Athair.”
“We’ll keep looking,” Samuel said. “No matter how misplaced his loyalty, he deserves to be mourned by those who loved him. If he has a family, we will find them.”
“Thank you.” James knew how lucky he was to have a strong, caring Alpha lead his pack.
An Alpha whose scent abruptly shifted from confident to unsure in the space of a heartbeat.
“Sarah, I have a favor to ask.” Samuel’s face was carefully blank.
“Anything,” James’ truemate said, slipping from underneath his arm.
“It’s not safe for Abby to leave the island.”
