Renounced: The Shelean Moon, Book Two Page 8

“No witches or spells as far as I know anyway. Is it really that bad, Lei? Do you want to see if the elders can do anything?” Brios sounded worried. She made haste to reassure him.

  “Nah, it’s irritating—he’s irritating—like a fly buzzing around. He’ll get swatted sooner or later, no worries. Now, let me go and dance. It’s my birthday—well, it was, and as it was pretty miserable, I’m going to make up for it tonight.” She watched as Rach came back with some bottles of cola, accompanied by Andy, one of Brios’s friends.

  “Hey.” Andy gave his friend a knuckle rub and sat down. “I’ve volunteered to sit with you while these youngsters dance—no hardship, honestly.”

  “Thanks, granddad,” Leira retorted. “That’s only cos Sam McIlwain isn’t here for you to ogle.”

  Andy laughed. It was no secret from his friends that he was gay and fancied Sam. Only the fact that Andy was Shalean and Sam wasn’t had stopped them from being a couple. Andy knew there were still some elders who—as Leira had succinctly put it—thought gay meant happy. He didn’t want to do anything or make any commitments, or come out, until he was sure everything was as he wanted. He gestured to the bottles he and Rach were carrying.

  “Leave them here where I can watch them,” Brios ordered. “And the others as well.”

  “They’re just coming.” Rach handed him a bottle. He nodded his thanks and gave her the look Leira privately called their sappy one.

  Leira smiled gratefully. She felt much happier being able to leave her drink with him. No way would she have put it down otherwise.

  “Okay.” The rest of their crowd had appeared and put various bottles and glasses on the table next to Brios and Andy.

  “Thanks, brother mine. Now girls…let’s dance.”

  Leira shimmied out across the floor, hands in the air and laughing as the DJ introduced Retro Hour. They all loved to dance to the stuff their mums and dads had grown up with. As an early Rolling Stones hit blasted out, she twirled and shouted to Rach.

  “I feel alive. It’s great.” She yelped in surprise as she felt herself spun around before someone grasped her shoulders, and planted a kiss—a definite spine-tingling, nerve-jangling kiss—on her mouth. Troy stood in front of her. His smile was wide, and his eyes glittered wickedly. His hair was no longer tied back at his nape but hung loosely around his shoulders. He was, Leira decided, definitely fanciable.

  “Dance, birthday babe?” Before she could answer, he was twirling her around. He moved with the music, swayed and watched her every action. She saw Rach’s knowing look and Ali’s calculating one. Out of the corner of her eyes, she watched Brios’s dark one. She didn’t care. Tonight, she would enjoy herself.

  Next time you enjoy yourself, it’ll be with me.

  “Oh, for our gods’ sake,” she said, exasperated.

  Troy moved closer.

  “What?” he shouted in her ear to make himself heard above the music. “What did you say? I love that song, ‘Jumpin’ Jack Flash.’”

  Leira thought quickly. “Um…he always plays this track, and there’re so many others he could choose.” She improvised.

  Troy laughed as he spun her round.

  “Yeah, yeah, and I’m a Rogue.”

  “What?”

  “Gotta go, babe, speak later…enjoy.” He was gone.

  What on earth was that all about?

  Leira felt Rach touch her arm and turned back to dance with her mates again. She’d think about what he’d said later. For now, she intended to enjoy herself.

  “What’s with that guy?” Brios spoke into her ear so no one else could hear. Not that they would find it easy unless they had superb hearing—like a Shalean, perhaps. The music almost made the bottles and glasses jump—it was so loud. “I don’t trust him.”

  “What? Oh, he…just…um…wanted to wish me a happy birthday.” Leira grabbed his hand and grinned as he reluctantly moved with the music. Dancing was akin to root canal treatment for her brother. Rach once confessed that Brio had admitted he’d rather do a cross-country run and fifty press-ups than five minutes on the dance floor. “Honestly, he’s harmless.” At least, she hoped so.

  “If you say so.” Brios didn’t sound convinced. “I trust you and your judgment, but we can’t be too careful at the moment. So much seems to be going on. And little sister, I want you safe.” Brios smiled at her and went back to his seat.

  She heard a chuckle in her head and mentally stuck her tongue out. What was she supposed to say?

  How about…don’t worry about him. He’s my guardian?

  Leira didn’t think that comment would sit well with her brother or Rach. She kept her mouth shut and carried on dancing. She could see that Troy watched her from the doorway and Brios and Andy kept their eyes on her from where they sat.

  Grr, she thought, protective or what? However, it gave her a warm glow inside, and it was better than no one looking out for her.

  Better believe it, babe.

  She would.

  It seemed no time at all before they had checked in with Brios a couple of times and he’d gone. Andy had elected to stay.

  “Nothing else to do,” he’d said wryly when Leira dragged him up to dance and asked why. “Well, except sort out email hacking. I was going to go to an age ceremony, then it was canceled.”

  Leira blushed. “Yeah, well what can I say? Sorry, but…”

  Andy gave her a swift, brotherly-type hug. “Hey, a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do. Don’t worry. Donny will either get over it or not—his choice.”

  Leira wasn’t so sure, but as her dad said often enough—don’t explain if you don’t have to. So, she didn’t. Instead, she smiled and danced.

  “Lei?” Rach said. “Time we went to meet your dad. Ali’s dad’s coming for the others.”

  “What? She looked at her watch. Twenty-five to. By the time they’d got their coats, her dad would be outside. “Yeah, okay, let’s say bye to the rest and head out.” She followed Rach to the door, and into the corridor. It was quieter once the door shut behind them and cooler. Leira breathed a sigh of relief.

  “I enjoyed it, you know, but…oh my God…my ears are ringing. I can’t hear anything properly. I must be getting old.”

  Bitch—little bitch. You’ll pay. Ignore me at your peril.

  Well, she thought, I heard that all right.

  All of a sudden, there was an almighty thump in the middle of her back, and she felt her hand forcibly lifted away from the handrail. She grabbed air as she toppled forward. There was no water to cushion her fall this time. Leira tried to stay on her feet—but didn’t succeed. No Troy to jump in and save her. She was going down…

  11

  Donny was cold and worried about Leira. He was convinced something was wrong…that something terrible had happened, even though he couldn’t sense anything in particular. Just that gut feeling he sometimes got about people who meant a lot to him. As much as he tried to see—the mist in his mind—the one the Sept called the gate stopped him. In his current mood, he realized it was the one the Patriarch wielded to stop someone from breaking the rules.

  Obviously, nothing I really need to worry about or the gift of sense Bri gave me would work, and she’d be getting through to me loud and clear. But even so, he was still troubled. The sense that things had gone haywire wasn’t good, and neither was the itch down his spine—the one that told him to be careful.

  He stamped his feet and wished he’d worn a jacket, or that he’d waited in the car. The wind had picked up, and it had a real nip in it. His thin hoodie didn’t keep it all out. Marok had told him not to hang back, to be on time, get out of the car, and show his acceptance of what was going on, so he hadn’t bothered to go back for something warmer to wear. Now, he wished his watch had been slow, or he’d been stuck behind a tractor or something. Anything rather than this numbing cold, which he half suspected was due to worry as well as the night air.

  “Welcome back.” The voice came from behind him. He swung around to face the do
or of the mill.

  Gregor Grier was silhouetted in the doorway. “Welcome. Enter.”

  Donny drew a deep breath. This was it, time to act.

  “I thank you,” he said formally and walked into a tall, cavernous room lit by hundreds of flickering candles. At any other time, it would seem romantic and warm. Now it was menacing. Each flicker seemed to say you’re ours and beckoned him inwards surrounding him and…

  Hold on. There’s something in the air.

  He clamped down on his senses. That was a dirty trick. If he’d not been alert, his senses would have been swayed and easily led wherever the Rogues wished. Now, as he cleared his mind and looked at the people who suddenly surrounded him, he knew he would need to be extra careful about how he responded to anything they said.

  Donny’s gaze wandered around the room as he carefully tried to memorize faces. It was somewhat difficult in the gloom. Funny how there were only men here. He wondered if that meant there were no women Rogues or whether they just had their own chapter. He filed that thought away for later. He made sure he faced Gregor, who had now reentered the room wearing a theatrical scarlet robe.

  Strange how Gregor seems to need trappings that Marok doesn’t. Probably because he isn’t—and never will be—the leader Marok is.

  However, Donny knew he had to try and act as if he respected Gregor as a leader.

  “Donald Farriday, you have been chosen to forward our cause.”

  Okay, time to act and make them think I believe.

  Gregor tried hard to inject a note of authority in his voice. It was a pity he couldn’t quite make it happen.

  In any other circumstance, I would almost feel sorry for the man—almost. Just not here and now though.

  “I’m waiting for your decision.”

  “How can I help the cause?” Not even for Shalea could he say our cause. This would be the next move in the Rogues’ game plan.

  “Bring us Brios Parde,” Gregor said.

  “Pardon?”

  “To show your loyalty, bring us Brios Parde.”

  Tell them you’ll do it. Brios listened in. Dad will watch and will take care of us. Ask him how, where, and when. Oh, and why would be nice as well. There was humor in his projection.

  “Master.” He thought Gregor would like that touch. He could feel Brios’s laughter ripple through him.

  Stop it Bri—or I’ll smile. He blocked his friend from his mind and concentrated on the here and now.

  “How…where…when…and why?” he asked quietly, and hoped he sounded sincere.

  “By whichever means you choose. In the glade. Tomorrow night at eleven.” The why was ignored, and Donny decided not to push his luck.

  He nodded. The Rogues seemed awfully fond of the number eleven, he mused. He wondered what the significance was. He’d have to remember to ask Brios or Marok.

  “So be it.”

  Five minutes later he was back at his car and prepared to drive away.

  What’s that all about, and what’s with eleven all the time? He hoped Brios heard him. I mean I can understand why they want you, because of who you are and will be, but the rest?

  Yeah, I guess if they have me, they’ll see that as a step towards the collapse of the hierarchy. Eleven? In some legends, eleven is an all-powerful number. Dad can tell you more, and he’ll want to know what happened anyway, so you’d better come on over here if that’s all right with you. I can’t get through to him at the moment. He’s gone to pick the girls up from the…

  Donny’s projection from Brios was broken. Something—someone—much more powerful slammed into him.

  Aargh…Ah… The scream echoed inside of him and chilled him right through. Leira…it came from Leira.

  Bri… He didn’t have a chance to say anymore before Brios interrupted.

  Hell, Donny, come quickly. Can you pick me up? I’ll meet you at the end of our drive. Put your foot down. Leira’s been attacked. The urgency in that projection made him shiver with fear.

  On my way. He was in third gear and accelerated before he finished his answer.

  He’d never driven the bumpy lane from the old mill to the village so fast and hoped to hell the suspension on the car would stand it. The five miles took five minutes, and he slowed to an abrupt halt when he saw Brios by the gateposts.

  “The club. They’re at the club.”

  Donny nodded and began to cover the miles to the next village where the club was located. He didn’t think he’d ever treated his car so badly as he clashed gears, drove to his utmost ability, and broke the speed limit…all the while wondering what they would find.

  “Have you sensed any more?” he asked as they went around a tight corner, and up and down the rolling tarmac. This section of the road was like a roller coaster they used to have great fun on in the bumpy old school bus as it made its way to school. Now, he was more concerned with staying on the best line rather than seeing how high he could bounce. “Hold on.” They took a right turn and skidded on some loose chippings. “Okay, anything else?’

  “Nope, not yet, just a sec.”

  Bri…Donny…can you get this?

  “Andy,” they said together.

  “You project, Bri…I’ll drive. Shit, what’s a tourist coach doing out at this time? Shouldn’t they all be tucked up in their hotels listening to accordions play and singing ‘Flower of Scotland?’” He overtook the coach that drove a full twenty miles below the speed limit and took up much of the road. Grudgingly, the driver moved over to let them past.

  Donny flicked his indicators to show his thanks as they pulled back in front of the coach. Behind them, it lumbered on, the driver oblivious to their need for haste.

  Donny? Dooo, what…Ahh…It…Str…

  It was Leira again trying to reach him. And he was stuck five miles away and not there when she needed him. He daren’t drive any faster.

  “Brios, I’m only getting half of what Leira says, and I’d bet my uni place she’s saying it’s Struan’s doing,” he said urgently as he swerved to miss a pheasant. It was no wonder so much wildlife became wild death and road kill.

  “Just a sec.” Brios was obviously concentrating. His body was still, and Donny saw his friend’s eyes were blank and dark as he risked a quick glance when they drove under streetlights at a crossroad. He was projecting then.

  “Andy says…” Brios never explained what Andy said. “Right…okay…Dad says we’re to go home and wait for him there.”

  “What?” They were less than two miles from the club. “No way…is he crazy?”

  “He’s Patriarch, are you going to ignore him?” Brios’s voice was forceful and compelling. “Because I’m sure as hell not. You know Dad. For him to order that, there must be a reason. Turn around, please, Donny.”

  Donny growled. “I want to know she’s okay.”

  “You think I don’t?” Brios demanded. “Shit, I know it’s your—well, someone special to you—but she’s my sister. I want to be there with her as well. However, Dad must have a reason. Please turn the bloody car, or we’ll crash as I force you to.”

  Donny slowed the car to go under a bridge and deliberated. There was a farm gate a few yards along the road where he could turn safely. “Okay,” he said grudgingly. “I’m not happy, and by God, if she’s hurt badly I’ll be the next one to renounce—on my oath as a Shalean.” He heard Brios’s grunt of understanding as they took the turn—or didn’t.

  The car swerved.

  What the…

  A deep, wide drainage ditch was straight ahead. A slippery grass verge led down its steep banks with trees on the other side, their branches low and heavy with leaves.

  Donny wrestled with the steering wheel. It turned. The car didn’t.

  An inhuman howl filled the air as trees began to shake and move violently.

  “Brios…it won’t steer…we’re going to flip in the ditch.”

  Dad… Anyone… Help.

  The answer was malevolent as it screeched into the car, loud an
d harsh. A merciless clamor reverberated around them bouncing from door to roof before he heard a projection.

  Too late, too late. I win—I will have her—I will rule.

  Struan—he might have guessed. Donny hoped the seatbelts would hold.

  Everything was in slow motion. The car, as if in a world of its own, almost glided across the grass. The front wheels lifted into the air as they reached the dirty edge of the ditch.

  “Hold on,” he said urgently. “We’re going.” The car began a lazy cartwheel. Its lights arced across the sky and illuminated trees, hedges, and the black seamless tarmac that stretched into the distance. Then, he glimpsed dark, fathomless water that loomed ahead…

  12

  Why isn’t anyone helping me? Where’s Donny?

  It was dark and cold. Leira wanted to shiver and hug herself or even better—be hugged. Her thoughts whirred.

  “Okay, babe, take it easy. I’ve got you—you’re safe—I’ve got you.”

  I really am going to have to tell him I hate being called babe. It reminds me of that film about that piglet I watched on TV. I’m really not that much fussed about being likened to something round, pink and squealing.

  “Wha…”

  “You slipped, and I caught you. I’m carrying you to your dad. Rach says he’s outside. Andy is with her and the others. Take it easy, babe.” She tried to move away from him and stand up by herself. His hold tightened. “Cool it, take a sec. You fainted, now you’re fine.”

  “Troy?” The bloke was everywhere.

  “Of course, babe, who else? That’s why I’m here—to be where you are.”

  Leira opened her eyes. “This is so not fair,” she muttered. “Why can I hear you and no one else? Well, apart from snake-face of course.”

  She felt Troy’s steps slow.

  “You what? Who the hell is snake-face?”

  Leira opened her eyes a bit more. She looked around in confusion. Where was she? This wasn’t the main way out.

  “We thought it safer this way.”

  Dammit, stop reading my thoughts.

  “Andy has taken Rach and the others out the front. We’re going this way. Hold on—watch your head.” She felt him stoop and saw bare brick low above them.