The Falconer (The Falconer #1)

Chapter 22

22

The gravel crunches beneath my slippers as we hurry across the garden. I pause just long enough to slice away the bottom of my skirts with my dagger, tearing through silk and petticoats until the garment sits well above my knees. Bloody dresses will only trip me up if another fight breaks out tonight, which now seems inevitable.

When I glance up, Kiaran is staring at me, one dark eyebrow raised.

“What?” I ask.

“Some warning next time before you start shredding your clothes,” he says.

I roll my eyes. “Don’t pretend you’re scandalised. I’m sure you’ve seen far more shocking spectacles than a bit of exposed leg. You keep rooms above a bloodhouse.”

We continue across the garden. The night air is crisp and cold against my newly bared skin. I focus on the crunch of each step, the way my breath fogs before me. Anything to keep my mind off the fight I know is coming. The one I can feel thrumming in my veins, electric and metallic.

“I think you ought to train your hounds better,” I say. “That one back there didn’t seem to care about your precious servant mark. Just got angrier when I mentioned it.”

Kiaran’s expression shutters. Becomes unreadable. “I’ll command them to return home,” he says flatly. “Kill any that refuse to comply.”

I force myself to keep up with Kiaran’s long legs as we pass through the gate and sprint into the lamplit street beyond. Up ahead, the pack of cu? si?th stalks toward us on silent paws, their hulking forms rippling beneath sleek fur that gleams like liquid shadow. Muscles tense and flex as they fan out, cutting off any easy escape.

Kiaran steps up beside me, his expression set in grim lines.

The temperature drops, raising goosebumps on my bare arms and legs. I can feel his power building within like an oncoming tempest straining for violent release. He surveys the beasts with an assessing look—a master evaluating his disobedient charges. Calculating the most efficient way to tear into soft bellies and rip out throats.

“What is it?” I ask. My heart pounds out a staccato rhythm against my ribs.

“They aren’t mine,” he says, the words clipped and flat.

I blink, certain I’ve misheard. “What do you mean they aren’t yours?”

His gaze remains fixed on the hounds, assessing. Calculating. “They didn’t come from the Fade. They don’t answer to me.”

Before I can demand where they came from, Kiaran utters a clipped command in his ancient tongue. The cu? si?th stall in their tracks, crimson gazes still locked onto me even as their heads tilt. Listening.

“Kneel,” Kiaran says very softly.

The command slides over me, under my skin, sinking deep into muscle and bone. Compelling obedience whether I wish to give it or not. The pack’s focus shifts to him now. Their muscular bodies fold to the ground in unison, though the exaggerated supplication hints at forced obedience rather than voluntary respect. They quiver, fighting his hold, wolves straining against invisible chains.

“ I said kneel ,” Kiaran snarls.

Another pulse of his power shudders the air, powerful as a shockwave, forcing me to my knees. I land hard on the cobblestones pain jolting up my legs. Shock and indignation surge through me, burning away the chill.

Kiaran’s fingers close on my shoulder, pulling me back upright. “Steady, Kameron,” he says. I feel his power release me. His breathing comes faster now, edged with strain. Controlling them is costing him. “Blade ready.”

My knees still ache from being forced down against my will. “Why? What happens when your hold on them snaps?”

“They’ll attack the moment I release them,” he says, calm despite the circumstances. “We’ll have to eliminate them before they can report to their master.”

“I thought you said they weren’t from the Fade. Who the hell do they belong to then?”

Kiaran spares me the barest glance, his striking eyes fever-bright. “You’re the one who can sense fae signatures here. Tell me what it feels like.”

Cursing under my breath, I open my senses and examine the power thrumming around the hounds, probing, seeking their master’s lingering imprint. It hits me like a blow, forcing the air from my lungs in a pained gasp.

Oh god. Not him. Anyone but him.

Memories I’ve tried so hard to bury threaten to claw free and drag me under—the crushing weight on my chest, ripping fangs and grasping claws. And above it all, his voice ripping through my mind while I screamed myself raw.

You’ll break so exquisitely.

“Arion,” I gasp, hating the faint tremors in my voice. Hating that just the bastard’s name recalls visceral panic. “He’s using them to track me, isn’t he?”

Kiaran gives a sharp nod, grim satisfaction flashing in his eyes at having confirmation.

I can feel the air growing colder and thinner around us as Kiaran’s strength gradually wanes. Controlling the beasts is bleeding him dry. He can’t restrain them much longer.

The nearest cu? si?th bucks against the invisible chains, binding it, fighting the unbreakable hold of Kiaran’s will. Lips peel back to show gleaming fangs longer than my hand. A keening starts low in its throat, building to an agonising, deafening crescendo that spears through my skull like a blade twisting between the bones. My vision whites out at the edges.

Kiaran jaw clenches. The temperature plummets further. My breath plumes white before me as frost creeps outward along the gravel street from where he stands. It consumes the road in fractal blooms, climbing the wrought iron fences and snaking up the walls of the surrounding row houses.

A concussive pulse of power erupts from him, slamming into the pack like a shockwave. The force of it nearly drives me to my knees. A wet snap rends the air, louder than any gunshot. One of the hounds goes down hard, its neck bent at an unnatural, lethal angle. Another pained yelp splits the night as Kiaran’s power finds its mark again, shattering bones with ruthless accuracy.

Two cu? si?th lie unmoving in the street now. Blood drips from Kiaran’s nose.

“That’s enough,” I shout over the din. “We need to lead them away before you faint.”

He ignores me, harsh features etched with pained concentration.

Baying rises in the distance, growing louder. Reinforcements are coming. We’re running out of time.

I seize a handful of Kiaran’s coat, giving him a rough shake. “Stop now, or you’ll knock yourself senseless, you stubborn bastard.” I meet that feverish gaze, jaw set. “Lead. Them. Away.”

For a moment defiance flares hot in those glowing eyes. But then he grits out, “With me.”

We take off down the darkened street just as the remaining beasts shred the last ragged scraps of Kiaran’s control. They bolt after us in a frenzy, rage and predatory excitement fuelling their strides. I risk a glance back—six hulking bodies bounding closer, gaining on us. Their jagged shadows stretch and blur together as the distance between us rapidly shrinks.

I force my burning legs to pump faster. My palm grows slick around the dagger’s grip, leather warm against my skin. Just get them away from the manor. Lead them somewhere I can end this.

We pound down the twisting cobbled lanes beneath the haloed glow of the gas lamps. The music and laughter from the ongoing ball fade into the distance. The baying echoes between the close-set buildings, bouncing off stone and glass. Hungry. Insatiable.

Up ahead, the narrow street terminates at the churning waters of the Water of Leith. The river cuts through the heart of Edinburgh here, spanned by the graceful stone arch of Dean Bridge, pale and elegant beneath the moonlight.

Kiaran grabs my hand, lifting me into his arms smoothly. “Hold on,” he murmurs, voice tight with strain as he hitches my legs around his hips.

Then, he vaults the balustrade in a single graceful bound. For a dizzying, weightless moment, we’re airborne.

Then we’re plunging down, down toward the river below.

We hit the water with a bruising slap. It drives the air from my lungs. The current tugs at my skirts, threatening to drag me under. Kiaran rises to his full height, water sluicing down his body in gleaming rivulets as he wades toward the muddy bank. He sets me down, turning back to the bridge.

The cu? si?th prowl the bridge’s span far over our heads, their smouldering crimson gazes fixed on us. One bunches its muscular haunches, preparing to make the same deadly leap we just survived.

Kiaran’s hand closes over my upper arm, his grip shy of painful. “Go!” he snarls.

I stumble into motion just as the first heavy body strikes the rocks behind us in an explosion of stone and water. More quickly follow. They rise, shaking off injuries that would kill a mortal creature.

We race along the muddy riverbank. Up ahead, the shadowed arches of Dean Village bridge span the narrow stretch of river. If we can just make it across, we might lose them in the maze of buildings.

A cu? si?th lunges, knocking me sideways. Its teeth snap together bare inches from me, foetid breath hot against my skin. I twist and sink my blade hilt-deep into its chest before its weight can crush me into the mud. I wrench my weapon free and roll clear.

No time to confirm the kill. I’m on my feet and sprinting again. My lungs burn, ribs aching. The dagger flashes in the moonlight as I whirl and slice another hound’s throat. Before its body hits the rocks, I’m spinning beneath the next beast’s swipe, exhaustion forgotten. My riposte carves a deep gash along its ribs. It yelps, twisting away into the shadows. I end it with a vicious backhanded thrust.

I fall into the lethal rhythm of the dance then—duck, slash, twist and lunge. The beasts come at Kiaran and me in a blur of snapping jaws and gleaming claws. No time for doubt or hesitation here. Kill or die.

With every ragged breath, my reactions slow by fractions. I’m tiring, growing sloppy.

Teeth graze my thigh before I manage to kill that one, too. Pain flares bright and hot, paired with the slick warmth of blood now coating my skin. I stagger and nearly miss a swipe that would’ve opened me hip to shoulder.

Only two hounds left. They split, angling to strike from both sides. I brace myself, chest heaving, blinking water from my eyes. Just two more.

A silhouette hurtles past me in a blur and collides brutally with the beast on my left. Kiaran. They crash together, tumbling end over end before rising again, circling each other.

The last cu? si?th’s focus is fixed on me now. Easy prey, weak and bleeding. My fingers tighten around the dagger hilt, leather worn smooth. I can barely lift my arm anymore. My whole body trembles with exhaustion.

With frightening speed, the cu? si?th abandons all pretence of toying with me. It lunges straight for my throat, no longer interested in playing with its food.

I throw myself sideways just in time. Its jaws snap shut on empty air. I crash down hard, losing my grip on my dagger. The rocks smash into my ribs, forcing the air from my lungs in an explosive wheeze. Spots swarm my vision.

Get up get up get up —

The cu? si?th whirls, muscles bunched and ready to spring again. I fumble with my dress, fingers shaking as I seek the hidden opening for the dagger secured in my corset’s boning.

Please don’t let it have slipped free in the river. Please.

My numb fingers close around the hilt as the massive beast collides with me. I hit the jagged rocks once more, fresh pain detonating through my battered body, hot and bright.

This is it. I’m going to die here.

Claws pierce my shoulder, pinning me down. The beast’s foetid breath washes over my face as it lunges for my exposed throat. With my last shred of strength, I drive the blade upward and into its heart.

It spasms on top of me. I feel its jaws snap inches from my face. So close. I twist the dagger. With a final, rattling shudder, the beast goes limp, its considerable weight crushing me into the stones. I let my head fall back, sucking air in huge, desperate gulps. My hand falls open, the dagger slipping from my nerveless fingers to clatter onto the stones.

Somewhere nearby, I hear a splash.

“Kiaran?” I rasp out. “Please tell me that’s you.”

His lean silhouette appears above me, limned in the moon-light. Thank god.

“You’re a mess, Kameron.”

“Don’t...lecture...” I manage between pained breaths. Black spots dance across my vision. “Just get...the corpse off me.”

Kiaran braces his hands beneath the hound and easily lifts the creature off me, tossing it aside. The air rushes back into my starved lungs. Sweet, blessed relief.

“Broken bones?” he asks briskly, deft hands already running over my torso and limbs, checking for injuries.

I grit my teeth and shake my head, fighting not to cry out when he presses on particularly tender spots. Bruised ribs, most likely, but not broken.

Before I can so much as take two full breaths, he slides his arms under my knees and behind my back and lifts me effortlessly against his chest. I don’t have the strength to protest as he wades out of the river and gently sets me down on a large, flat rock above the current’s grasp.