Chapter 28
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“The General and the hellhounds are hunting all the corrupt shifters down. It’s only a matter of time before they find me, and I don’t have the heart to escape them or fight them.”
I pull my mobile away from my ear and stare at it. My grandfather’s words echo around my head.
This isn’t my fault. This is all on him, his actions, his intentions. It’s not my fault that his bad choices have bitten him on the bum.
Does he expect me to help him? Rescue him? He might be biologically my grandfather, but he isn’t my family.
“The council has made a lot of bad choices,” I say diplomatically. Seriously, they’ve pushed the entire country to the breaking point. Creatures were already up in arms about the suicide or unexplained death of a shifter girl, and now with my explosive video…
Shit, the timing couldn’t have been better.
“I’m surprised you’re not dead already.” My chest throbs at my horrible words. Bloody hell, Tru. Did you have to go there? I shouldn’t care how I sound. Kindness isn’t a weakness, and I can’t lose myself just because I’m related to this monster.
“I need to speak to you in person, tonight.”
I groan and rub my face. “Okay. Meet me at Xander’s house. I’ll text you the new portal code.”
“There’s a witch that has more power than she should. For the past decade, her power has only grown.” We’re in Xander’s fancy living room, sat opposite each other. When he said he wanted to talk to me… I didn’t think this would be the conversation.
“Grey magic, it didn’t concern us. But a few years ago, it came to my attention that she didn’t use potions or spells. She instead used the power of a bone necklace.” He raises his eyebrows meaningfully. “A multicoloured bone necklace.”
“Multicoloured bone?”
“Rainbow.”
Fuck.
My mind grinds to a halt, and I sit frozen and stare at him.
Multicoloured bone. “Are you implying this bone necklace is made of horn?” The words come out mumbled from between my stiff lips.
It’s now my turn to raise my eyebrows, my heart creeps towards my throat, and I do my best to swallow it down. “My horn?” I whisper.
“Yes.”
Wow. I cover my mouth with my hand and shake my head as I try to get around the implications of that revelation. Major revelation. The unicorn dropped a bomb.
Hell, perhaps we’re more alike than I thought… Now isn’t that a scary thought? I rub the back of my neck.
Shit, so there is a possibility that this witch may have my horn. My stomach flips, and I huff out a nervous breath.
It’s my first lead, and although I don’t trust this man, I know I have to at least check it out. I have no choice. The shifter side of me is dying. I wasn’t lying when I told the shifters that—even with Xander’s fancy angel blood and healing magic, without my horn, I’m a dead girl walking.
The unicorn shifter sits silently, patiently, watching as my emotions undoubtedly roll across my face. He lets me think.
Is this a setup? I narrow my eyes. Denby—my grandfather, ha, still can’t get over that—places something gently down on the glass table between us.
“This is my show of faith.”
I’m enveloped in its magic.
It resonates through me and buzzes in my ears.
It thrums through my chest with gentle, almost painful waves.
It takes a second. I blink. Oh my. I struggle to breathe…
that’s—that’s a unicorn horn. The blue-green horn is around the length of a Katana sword, around twenty-four inches, my brain helpfully adds.
My martial arts training always comes in handy at the strangest of times.
His horn.
I pull my gaze away from it and look back up, meeting his eyes. He sees my shock.
“I can’t do this myself. My position will not allow me to, and what with everything going on, it would incite a war with the witches.
A war we wouldn’t win. For years the unicorns have been watching her, waiting for an opportunity, but without the owner of the horn coming forward, we could do nothing. ” He shrugs.
I thought the paleness in his skin tone was from the current political climate the riots and people hunting down the shifter council. But no, he’s pale because he’s missing the source of his magic.
“I believe, granddaughter, the horn the witch has in her possession is yours. It is your property, and you have every legal and moral right to get it back. But you need strength and power. I know without your own horn you are dying.” He nods to the horn on the table.
“This is the only way I can help you.” He chuckles softly. “Putting my horn on the line I know will not gain your trust. No matter what you think, I’m not a stupid man, and I know what I’ve done is unforgivable. But—”
His voice cracks, and he runs his tongue across his teeth and then takes what looks like a pain-filled breath.
“My actions broke your grandmother’s heart.
I’ve always been an evil man, and I’ve done whatever it took to get ahead.
But your grandmother? She is the light of my life.
” He shakes his head. “And I ruined that. So please, please give me this… Allow me to be the man that she thought I was.” Denby taps the glass table, and as if by its own accord his hand drifts towards his horn.
He has to forcibly snatch it back. “I’d also like to make up for my son’s failings. ”
We sit there for a moment in silence, the power of his horn thrumming.
“When you’re ready, I’m sure your grandmother will help you find out more about your mother and that side of your family. You are so much like your grandmother,” he says gruffly.
I clear my throat. “Yes, I’d like that.”
“Let me help you. I’m trusting you.” Denby reverently picks up his horn. “I hold my life in here in my hands.”
Those things don’t just click off.
I shudder.
I suppressed the memory of when my horn was removed for my own sanity. My hand can’t help but rub my forehead. The truth has a way of creeping into your dreams. I remember everything of that day in my nightmares. The pain. The agony. It was like someone had broken all my bones at once.
I was just a little girl.
My grandfather holds his power, his magic, his soul in his hands.
I nod my head with consent and open my mouth to do a speech about how I will try my best, but before I get to say anything, Denby twists his wrist, and suddenly the horn is rapidly moving towards my face.
I can’t help my squeak as I fall backwards into the chair. But he follows my movement. The flat end of the horn smacks into my forehead, and there is a whoosh of power that blows the loose strands of my hair back and a bright white light so fearsome I think for a second I’ve been blinded.
I groan and blink rapidly. When my vision finally clears, the world is a different place.
I can feel my blood moving in my veins. It’s on fire with power.
I can taste the air around me.
All my senses have increased a hundredfold.
I feel like a superhero.
No. Not a superhero… I feel like a unicorn shifter. I feel like a vampire.
I swallow a lump in my throat as I realise the gravity of what my father did to me. What he destroyed. How could he have done that to me? Knowing what the feeling of being whole is like. Even though it’s not my magic, it bonds with me.
I rapidly blink. I will not cry, not here, not now. I’ll save this for later and deal with it when I’ve got time.
I focus on my grandfather with these new unaccustomed eyes. They let me see everything that I’ve missed, every detail. Denby’s skin is deathly pale, and the pain he is in pulls down the corners of his eyes.
I understand his sacrifice more than anyone. Even if it’s temporary until I deal with the witch and get my horn back. Every moment I waste, he suffers, and his body, without his magic, slowly dies.
It’s a huge personal sacrifice.
“Thank you,” I say, two meaningless words to a man who is giving me so much. I thought he was evil. Every time I’ve met him he’s proven without a doubt he’s not a nice man. But even he is redeemable. He might be the villain, but he’s a villain with a family. My grandmother and perhaps… perhaps me?
“I promise to do everything in my power to get my horn back and return what is yours.”
He nods. “I know you will. I know the reputation of the fae man who raised you.” His eyes change, and his darker side peeks through.
“You go get your soul back, child of my child, and you kill that witch. Punish her. Make her an example to protect the last of us. Let it be known what happens to creatures who steal magic.” His eyes harden further. “You have to, no matter the cost.”
I nod. “Yes, Grandfather.”
As we walk back to the portal, he slips a piece of paper into my hand. “They will stop you if you give them the chance. Keeping you safe will end up killing you faster,” he says. His voice is so quiet that even with my new super-shifter ears I struggle to hear.
I nod and stuff the note in my pocket.
Denby opens the portal door and leans heavily against the frame.
“The fae assassin did an excellent job of protecting you.” He visibly swallows.
“Raising you… Tru, I know it’s hard to believe, but nobody knew of your existence.
Both your parents kept you a secret. There wasn’t a whisper of a shifter-vampire hybrid.
” He shakes his head. “At the time of your conception, your father was off living this… double life that we weren’t aware of. For what it’s worth, I am sorry.”
“Okay, well… urm… thanks. I will see you soon.” With a tight smile, he steps into the gateway and disappears.
When I shuffle back into the living room, Xander peels himself away from the wall. His sneaky angel magic had been hiding him from the unicorn’s senses.
“I wouldn’t have believed that if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes.”
My heart jumps, and I almost pat my pocket until I realise Xander is talking about the borrowed horn that’s merged with my forehead. Bloody hell, Tru. I don’t think you’re gonna have a career being sneaky.
“I know,” I whisper.
“How do you feel?”
I peer up at Xander, and even he looks different to my new eyes. He’s even more handsome. His face becomes hazy as my eyes fill with tears.
“Whole,” I whisper. “I feel whole, strong, normal.” The first time in my life I feel normal, or what I presume normal feels like.
My trembling hand goes to rub my forehead, and I stop myself midmotion.
My hands curl into fists and drop to my sides, nails digging into my palms. Rubbing my forehead is…
Heck, it’s not like I’m gonna rub the horn off.
But for now, it might be best not to touch the spot.
Wow, I feel seriously overwhelmed.
“This is—” I croak.
“It’s a lot to deal with,” he finishes.
I nod. I turn away from him, embarrassed.
I sniffle.
Xander sighs. His body comes closer, and his bumpy abdomen meets my back as he folds me into his arms.
“You’re h-h-hugging me,” I mumble.
Xander grunts a reply. I go limp and my entire body shudders as I try to keep my tears inside.
It’s all been a little bit too much these past few months.
I’ve gone from being a circle of two… to just me, on my own. Fighting against the world and what I thought was my own rapidly encroaching death.
And now I’m alive, more than alive for now, and I have more creatures inside my quickly expanding circle, more responsibility than I’ve ever had before.
I don’t like change.
I don’t deal with it well; I sniffle and tilt my head to the ceiling. I know my choices have got me to this point, and I don’t regret a thing.
I love Dexter and Story.
Heck, I love the stupid angel.
I don’t want to go back to being on my own; I don’t want to go back to feeling like I’m wasting away.
Slowly dying. I don’t want to go back to that feeling like I’m missing a huge part of my soul.
I’m screwed. It’s only been, what, twenty minutes?
I feel complete in a way I have never felt before, and it’s overwhelming.
Now I know what I was missing. I’m a hundred times more frightened.
What happens if I fail?
Fail my friends, fail myself, and what happens if I don’t get my horn back… ’cause I will have to return this horn to Denby Jones. I try to swallow down my overwhelming fear, but too many emotions continue to bubble up my throat to drown me. A sob wrenches from my lips.
Shit, I’ll go back to that darkness. I don’t want to, I don’t think I can. But I know I will ’cause that’s the only thing I can do. A sad smile tugs at my lips, and a small whimper leaves my tight throat. I can only do the right thing.
Xander spins me so I’m facing him, and then he sits on the chair and drags me down with him into his warmth.
My legs fall on either side of his hips, and I wrap myself around him.
His big, heavy arms tug at me so my head rests against his chest, and a warm hand rubs circles on my back as his other hand cradles the back of my neck.
“You should be proud of yourself. You took on the might of the shifter council and won. You could have run. The General would have helped you.” He gently tucks a wayward strand of my hair behind my ear and rests his chin on top of my head. “I would have done my best to hide you.”
I’m not one for cuddles. I’m kind of miserable with human contact—less is more in my book—but I can’t seem to stop myself from snuggling closer. I breathe him in as best as I can with a snotty nose.
“When you asked me to trust you to arrange the meeting, I had my doubts.” Xander shakes his head, and the dark stubble on his chin musses up my hair.
“But you did it… Granted you might have caused a countrywide mess and almost single-handedly destroyed the shifter council, but you did it, and you also gave other creatures a reason to fear you.” He gently brushes my bare arm with his fingers.
“And now, for the time being, you have your grandfather’s horn, his power, and with it, you will go on an adventure to take back what was stolen.
“I do not doubt that you’ll be able to get your horn back.
” He kisses the top of my head, and the angel continues to murmur, “But that is a tomorrow problem to solve. So if you need a moment to cry to let things fall apart? I’ll make sure you won’t fall alone. I’ve got you. I’ve got you, my shadow.”
I cling to him, and the tears that I’ve been holding in for what feels like forever fall, drenching his shirt.