A Vampire in a Pear Tree (Ravenfall Dark Ones #2)

Chapter One

ONE

OWAIN

“And a merry fucking Christmas to you, you ungrateful whelp!”

Owain ap Aidan eyed his mother and wondered what bee had gotten up her bustle. All he’d done was to wish her a happy holiday.

“No matcha latte available at the local shop?” he asked, taking a seat in the sitting room of an expensive house in the middle of an exclusive area in London, mindful of the raven perched on his shoulder.

“No, and don’t think the manager didn’t hear about his fundamental failure when it came to the bare minimum of organizational responsibilities demanded by his position.

How hard can it be to keep suitable amounts of matcha powder in stock?

Mortals these days really grind my gears,” she said, pacing across the somewhat dark room, one hand gesturing sharply as she spoke.

“Angharad—” he started to say, one eye on the street beyond the window. It was supposed to snow later that day, and he wanted to get this audience with his mother over quickly.

The rest of the unspoken sentence dried up when she whirled around, her long blonde hair whipping out in a manner that had him involuntarily flinching backward, causing Orla to squawk a protest when her tail feathers were squished.

“You idiot! Have a little consideration for my feathers! You’re so careless with me! If you keep treating me this way, I’ll leave you!”

“Promises, promises,” he murmured under his breath, shooting a warning glare at the raven when she made a movement like she was about to poop on his shoulder.

“I’ve told you to stop using that name! It’s my .

.. what do people call it? ... dead name.

” His mother donned an expression that Owain assumed was her version of being nobly martyred.

He knew she understood Orla’s raucous caws as well as he did, but was evidently not offended by the bird’s comments toward him.

“Angharad ferch Cailitin is a dead name?” He wondered what she was up to by denying her identity. “I admit the ferch Cailitin part is not commonly used these days, but you could simply adopt Cailitin as your surname.”

She squared her shoulders, causing Orla to take a step back and flap her wings in obvious warning.

“I will do no such thing. For one, I wouldn’t dream of honoring that fatheaded druid who calls himself my father by using his name as my surname, and for another, you’ve been in the mortal world for almost a year now—surely you must know that it’s highly improper for you to call me by a name I don’t want. ”

“Would you prefer Morrigan?” he asked, throwing caution to the wind. The meetings with his mother were growing increasingly tense due to her stubbornness.

She came perilously close to spitting words out at him, jabbing a finger painfully into his chest. “Are you deliberately trying to enrage me? Do you want me to smite you and that moldy bird on the spot? You will not use my dead names!”

He didn’t think it was possible for a raven to gasp in outrage, but Orla managed it before cawing, “I am not moldy!”

“You are not transgender that I know of,” he told his mother.

“I am the most feared hedge witch in all of Dalriada!” Orla glared at the woman before them.

“In addition to which, I don’t think simply calling yourself by a new name is the same as someone who is no longer comfortable with their birth name for reasons of misgendering.

” He ignored Orla’s comments in order to focus on hurrying his mother along.

He had places to be, and elusive dragons to find.

Orla ruffled up her feathers and stomped her feet on his shoulder. “My cousin was wed to a friend of a groom of one of the stewards to a great king!”

“Pah,” his mother said, waving away his explanation.

“I took the name Jericho when I was with the Court of Divine Blood. You can call me Jerry if you want to keep up with the times. That point aside, no one has called me the Morrigan in centuries. Not since my father dragged us from Ireland to Wales. Besides, the Morrigna is no more.”

He frowned. What was this? “It’s not? I thought the Morrigna was made up of three Morrigans, aka you and two of your four sisters?”

“Yes, well ...” She gave a little cough. “It so happens that one of those sisters is no more, so technically, the Morrigna doesn’t exist.”

“Which sister?” he asked, noting the way she refused to meet his gaze.

“She offed her own sister. Her own sister!” Orla gave an avian snort. “I don’t know why you act surprised. You know how your mother is!”

“Ozy. She died last year, right before you came out of the Hour.” His mother flicked a gaze toward Orla. “And I am the daughter of a druid, bird. Remember that when you think to speak ill of me!”

“Shite,” Orla swore under her breath, scooting over closer to his ear. “Can all your family understand me?”

“Yes.” He thought of asking what had happened to his aunt, but decided he really didn’t want to get involved in his mother’s latest scheme.

Those seldom ended well for anyone. “I’m sorry to hear about the death of Ozymandra.

As regards your choice of names, I’m happy to call you Jericho, or whatever name you like, so long as you get to the point of this meeting.

I am working hard to find a solution to the problem at hand. ”

“Bah,” she said, pacing to an elaborately decorated Christmas tree at the window before turning back. “You’ll never get that curse lifted. Not without my help, and you won’t have that until you return my powers to me.”

“The very same powers that are keeping me sane?” He gave an abrupt shake of his head. “You’ve gotten along fine without them for almost two millennia. Not to mention that you must have taken back that which you gave to Cadell.”

She gave a derisive snort. “Of course I took it back from that idiot. I never should have bestowed him with it, but I was misled by you boys until I fell into your plans. Well, no more! That fool Cernunnos has taken over as head of the Celtic Pantheon, and instigated a new rule that prohibits membership from those who don’t possess all their powers.

I refuse to be treated in such a cavalier manner! I am a Morrigan!”

“You just said you didn’t like that name—” Owain pointed out her hypocrisy even as Orla gave a burst of laughter that emerged as a rusty caw.

“I am the goddess of war and fate, daughter of the druid Cailitin, and sister to twenty-seven brothers!” Jericho said even louder, drowning him out.

Owain, knowing well what was coming, and waiting for the count of three that his mother always took before reciting her greatest life moments, said in perfect synchronicity with her, “I tested the courage of kings, and would withhold my blessing should they not sufficiently impress me!”

“I heard that she used to bed the kings, and the ones who didn’t please her were left without her grace on the battlefield. I can’t imagine being so callous,” Orla said with a pointed sniff.

“Says the woman who tried to decapitate me,” he told the bird, unable to resist responding to her unwarranted scorn.

“What?” Jericho, who had been going on about how important she, her sisters, and the brothers who made up Clan Cailitin were to the rulers of early Irish history, missed Orla’s comment.

He gestured away the question. “It’s just Orla being her usual self. Regardless of your importance, I think you’ll survive the few months it will take me to find someone who can break the curse.”

“Usual self? Usual self!” Orla turned her head so one beady yellow eye stared balefully at him.

“My usual self is a comely maiden with the ability to beguile men and make the rowan bloom. And the sooner you hurry up your pitiful attempts to rid yourself of that curse, the sooner you can return me to my natural state, and I can go back to Ireland where I belong.”

“They’re my powers!” Jericho raged, slapping her hands down onto a small chess table in front of him.

“I never intended for you and your brothers to keep them! They were supposed to help you and Rhain take down those pesky demon lords. That’s all!

Now that you’ve escaped from the Hour where your brothers are still being held captive, you can bloody well give back what is mine.

If for no other reason than as penance for abandoning your beloved brothers by thinking only of yourself and your selfish needs. ”

“I doubt if anyone who had their soul ripped out while the curse of bloodlust was placed upon them would view having said curse removed as selfish, but this is an old argument, and a false one at that. I didn’t escape the Seventh Hour; I was ejected from it without warning.

As for my beloved brothers—the last time I saw Rhain, he lopped off one of my arms and would have gelded me if Rhys hadn’t stopped him.

” He flexed his left arm, the memory of the month it took for a mage to reattach the severed arm still a cause of irritation.

“I don’t know what Cadell did during that time, since I assume he was re-imprisoned in the Hour when I was expulsed. ”

“Tch,” Jericho said, storming past him only to spin on her heel and return. “He was almost as useless out in the mortal world as you are.”

He stood up, having caught the slight movement of white out of his peripheral vision.

“I’ve sworn to return the power you bestowed upon me as soon as I break the curse, so if that’s all you want to say to me, I’ll be on my way.

I have a lead on a charmer who might be able to help, but she’s not easy to contact. ”

“A charmer?” Jericho made a noise of dismissal. “I told you at the time those demon lords cursed you boys that no mere charmer could break it.”