26. CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Cian Lonan-Merrick
Men stood from their chairs with pleading shouts to continue. A few approached the stage and fell to their knees.
Why were they bowing before me ? I had severed my gancanagh's magic.
I blinked back the haze.
My knees started to give out and I grabbed the velvet curtains.
Damn, wings were heavy. They might be the reason I toppled over in the rapid energy loss hitting me right now. But I’d still rob a bottle from a baby for these gorgeous feathers—
“Cian!” Farris cut through the clamoring gathering toward me.
The priestess shrieked a gasp at hearing my name.
Fecking hell, she was still here?!
The burly doorman, who had apparently been under my spell, realized that, aye, the maniacal zealot was, indeed, still here and swiped for her. The priestess was quick on her feet, though, and maneuvered out of his grasp to push toward the stage.
The two Syndicate boys shifted into ravens, flew across the room, and landed in their elven forms in front of the stage, wings out. They were protecting me from the crowd? A third appeared from backstage and began blowing out the stage lamps while shooting me curious looks. Ah, not me, then. They were protecting the building.
But it didn’t get darker. The stage remained illuminated.
I glanced down and . . . oh gods .
A faint, strange light glimmered along my skin.
I was glowing . . . again .
Not as bright as my goddess light, but that didn’t matter when there was close to a hundred eyes taking in my fading god form. Was a gancanagh a god? Or was I also manifesting the masculine demi-god side of myself?
“Cian, father of Lugh!” The priestess cried out. “In the splendor of his son’s ravens!”
I heaved a sigh. This was getting old.
Still, guilt began gnawing at the edges of each intersecting thought thread racing through my mind. I didn’t mean to bewitch the audience. Or trigger the Ladies of Lugh into a religious frenzy. Seren’s coercion magic was intense. Thank the moonless skies they’d all forget about their strange encounter with the gods when leaving the City of Stars.
What a ridiculous night.
But . . . of course, I had a magic pipe that enthralled men . . . at a male brothel.
Of course, I had a magic cow with milk that never ran dry . . . at a male brothel .
And, of course, for my demi-god forms to appear, I needed to don magical cock boots.
A laugh spurted past my compressed lips.
My great-aunt knew my raunchy brand of humor well.
This whole night, she also ensured I held power over Seren instead of the reverse, like I had long feared—a twist of fate I was still trying to wrap my head around. I understood the underlying message, though. No one could own my power or my personhood but me—not Hamish, not the Syndicate, Carran, or the Caravans. And I now believed this from the marrow of my soul.
If I could, I’d fluff my wings in happiness. Damn, I loved these feathers.
Farris jumped onto the stage, whispering into the ear of one of the Seren Ravens before circling an arm around my waist. “The Syndicate showed up as protection. Over a dozen Ladies of Lugh have gathered around the entrance demanding we free their goddess, Cordelia Merrick. One started knocking on chamber doors.” He pushed us backstage and into the connecting hallway. “The Syndicate believes you’re one of our new consorts.”
“Not after my illuminating performance, they don’t.”
Farris chuckled. “Never a dull moment with you, Cian Merrick.”
We angled down narrow stairs to a large storage room. Farris plucked a shirt from another pile of spares and handed it to me. I unshouldered the wings to slip the tunic-styled shirt on.
“A Traveler Folk glamoured your skin in additional payment for services. That’s what the Syndicate lads were told.”
“You’re not asking me, though,” I murmured, shimming the wings' straps back onto my shoulders.
“Your sister has magic. Why wouldn’t you?” Farris slid a sly smile my way. “You’re a walking spotlight, love. Not surprising.”
I barked a laugh at that. Stars above, I really was a shameless hussy, down to my core magic.
My amusement sobered quickly, though.
A strange brewing sensation was vibrating in my chest the farther we strode across the room. The percolating feeling almost unbearable when Farris unbolted a metal door and swung it open. A blast of cool night air bit at the skin of my neck and face. Owen leapt forward and pulled me through the door and—I dug in my heels.
In the middle of the alley was a partially charred, black-spotted taxidermized dairy cow forever captured in a bug-eyed, crazed moo.
“The feck is that ?!”
“Behold,” Owen said with a full-body shiver, “your birthright.”
Three consorts by the cow stepped away, providing me a better view.
This beast wore four red ladies dress boots. The front ones were nearly burned beyond recognition. Wax fruit had dripped off a blackened straw hat—my face twisted in a grimace—and in a horrifying way that made it look like the flesh was melting off her face. I took a tentative step closer. Was that the singed remains of a garter ribbon on her hind leg?
Gods, was this a joke?
The vibrating sensation in my chest, however, was urging me to touch that monstrosity. No, this was real. The magic was unmistakable. But stars above, this cow looked like she had survived an apocalypse, not a building fire.
She also wasn’t green, like her name suggested, but a dappled white and black. Perhaps the green related to her luck and prosperity magic?
“Do you think she glows too?” Corbin asked.
I scrubbed a weary hand down my face and groaned—then stilled. “Did you hear that?”
Corbin pivoted toward the alley adjoining this one and hissed, “Shite.”
“We need to go. NOW.” Owen moved me closer to my cow. “Jump onto the back.”
“Are you mad?” I shot back. “What if I fall off?”
The clomp of shoes echoed on the cobbled street and brick buildings.
“Goddess!” a woman pleaded. “Do not abandon your Plowed Field!”
“Daughter of Lugh!” another shouted.
Farris tipped his head at the consorts. “Distract them.”
The men sprang into a run toward the approaching mob. Before rounding the bend, they slid to a stop. Fear flashed across their faces. Then they started wildly gesturing for us to hurry before dashing back. That didn’t bode well.
Owen tugged on my arm but I twisted to Farris and kissed his cheek. “Take care of yourself, friend.”
A soft smile stole over his lips. “Visit us lads, aye?”
“Aye,” I agreed. “I promised to personally deliver a letter.” His russet eyes rounded slightly at the reminder of our bargain. “I’ll bring my mate—"
“Cian,” Owen gritted between clenched teeth.
With one last look at Farris, I stepped onto the brace Owen formed with his hands and swung my leg over my cow as if she were a horse. But the wings knocked me back. Corbin swore and held the wings up while I mounted again. Then, with a humored roll of his eyes, arranged them on either side of where I perched.
A dizzy spell hit me. The alley spun. I began sliding away from the fellas.
There was no mane to grip, no saddle with stirrups.
I was going die.
We hadn’t moved yet and I could barely stay on the back of this charred heifer—
My hands involuntarily darted out to clasp what felt like leather strips in my curling fingers, but there was nothing there but air . . . oh . A bridle faded into visibility. Was it bound to me? It had controlled my body.
“Thank the wishless falling stars,” Owen muttered as he grabbed the lead rope and quickly looped it around my waist and tied it tight to the back of the bridle, forcing my body to practically embrace my cow’s upper back.
The clatter of boots and voices grew closer.
I peered over my shoulder and . . . the blood rapidly drained from my head. Men and women were now running toward me.
Owen removed the sheet around my Lughnasadh’s Day hat, not wanting the fabric to catch wind and blow it away. I adjusted my position for him to stuff the lumpy, fruity piece beneath my chest, then I pressed closer to Glas Gaibhnenn’s spine. Magic whooshed through me at the contact. A bright, fiery sensation that danced across my skin.
“Hold on,” Owen shouted to me over the stampede.
Wind from his wings whipped my hair around my face while the wing gusts from Corbin lashed at my back. Owen wrapped his arms around my cow’s neck. I couldn’t see Corbin. But a second later we were lifting off the ground. A little wobbly at first.
My stomach rolled.
The vibrating sensation in my chest intensified. Why was it growing stronger? If this taxidermized nightmare transformed into a real beast mid-flight, we were in a steaming heap of sparkly shite.
The alley below became smaller and smaller the higher we ascended. The mob of men and women settled beneath us. Emeline grinned and waved. Did she know I was the same person? I smiled back. That lass was too sweet for that lot of Ladies.
“The Cow of the Milky Way!” a woman shouted. “She lights a path across our sky!”
My eyes squinted. Then I burst into laughter. I hadn’t noticed, too consumed with escaping Seren without being torn to pieces, being captured by the Syndicate, or falling to my death.
Well, Corbin, you have your answer.
My fecking faerie cow was blazing brighter than a shooting star.
We cleared the protective glass wall and began descending toward Caledona Wood. This scorched, glowing bovine of prosperity was, officially, the weirdest thing I’ve brought to a gathering.
If we made it to camp, that is.
My pulse stuttered to a stop. A conspiracy of Ravens crested over the wall and cawed.
The Carrion Crime Syndicate was fast on our tail.