Wrenn picked up the helmet and dusted off the sand. The walk back to the old mission should help steel her for another token-less trip.
After all this time, she should be used to the hells of the Heartway. But she should also be used to the flashbacks by now, too, and the jitters that came with them both. Her body panicked and her mind wanted to talk it down and the whole process exhausted her more than the ripping open of her traumas. She could psych herself up all she wanted but a trip back through the Heartway and another round of it poking a lightning rod into her disturbed soul felt heavy.
Maybe she should wait for the elves. Hitch a ride into Brownsville, where she could book a flight to London; there she could buy a token off a fae in the mundane world. But international flights were few and far between right now, with the mundane world so unsettled.
She walked over to Redemption.
The sword really was glowing in real light. “Take a deep breath, my swordly friend. The elves are on their way. They’ll help. It’ll be okay.”
The sword would do as she asked.
“Are you talking to me again?” She had no idea what to make of this elven blade’s possessiveness, or their connection. Or even the possibility that she was, in fact, a witch of elven descent.
Which meant she really should deal with her business in Alfheim.
Wrenn rubbed at the tip of her nose and stared out over the water at the glow from South Padre Island. The sudden decrease in overall vamp numbers a month ago had stirred up this trouble. Nature abhorred a vacuum, so now the vampires were in the midst of an internal war that overflowed not only into the fae realms, but into elf territory.
Or, from Ed’s reaction, was caused by something in elf territory.
Why did she keep going back to Victor with all this? That somehow Victor Frankenstein’s rot had infected everyone’s soil and had triggered… whatever this was.
We bind thee, Fenrir!
She looked down at the glowing sword. “I thought you were going to take a breath?” The glow had decreased, at least.
The talk of Fenrir was worrisome considering the all the chaos in both the mundane and magical worlds. And the Queen’s refusal to allow Wrenn to deal with the kelpies through normal channels.
Wrenn reached for Red’s hilt.
“Stop!” Wrenn yanked back her hand and turned around.
Robin Goodfellow stood about five feet away. “There you are!” He leaped forward and grabbed her by the scruff of the neck. “Time to come home, young lady.”
Chapter 27
“Papa!”
Sophia was touching Ed’s face, as was a lot of cold air.
“Is he okay?” Gabe said. “I figured if we were calm and respectful with the Queen she wouldn’t get mad at us. Did it work?” His feet shuffled on what sounded like dirt. “We’re in a pit, but I think we’re home.”
Ed opened his eyes to a black sky and an even blacker pit. Random snowflakes fluttered downward only to be whipped away by a cold wind that thankfully rolled over the pit more than into it. Somewhere nearby, plastic snapped in the wind. They were a good eight or so feet down in a hole. What remained of the garage floor jutted out along the edges of the hole complete with poking, ragged rebar.
They were in fact at the bottom of the hole left when that damned sword nuked his garage.
His son tried to climb up the loose dirt lining the pit.
“Gabe! Careful!” Ed sat up faster than he should have. What the hell had that fae done to him? “Was that the Queen of the Fae?” he muttered. He’d bounced off her armor and…
He really had no idea how to describe what it had done to his head. He’d been there, on the beach, listening to Wrenn and Gabe deal with the actual, honest-to-goodness Queen of the Fae and none of it had processed. The closest he’d ever come to a similar experience was a drunken bender in college from which he remembered moments and images, but didn’t really remember, and the lack of memory made him feel a type of naked vulnerability he did not like.
He’d never gone drinking like that again, and after Isabella’s parents were killed by a drunk driver, he’d stopped drinking even the occasional beer.
Gabe slid back down to Ed and Sophia.
“You two okay?” he asked.
“We were on the beach, now we’re home,” Sophia said.
Gabe looked around at the pit. “It’s like a Terminator time travel bubble,” he said.
Ed rubbed his ear. “Don’t give the fae ideas.” Wrenn did say they were teching it up.
“I’m cold,” Sophia said.
Gabe immediately wrapped his arm around his sister. “I can get out. If I jump, I can reach the concrete.”
Ed patted at the dirt. He’d had his coat around his waist before he ran headlong into the Queen of the Fae—there, his coat was bunched up to the side of his hip. “Here, honey,” he said, and handed it over to his daughter.
Ed fished his phone from his pants pocket. It lit up long enough to tell him its battery was about to die.
“Ranger made us leave our phones in the van, Papa,” Gabe said.
Ed fished out Gabe’s phone. “I got them.” He handed it to his son.
“You found the van?” Gabe took his phone and unlocked the screen.
Ed handed Sophia hers, which she immediately checked.
“We landed in the same place you did. At that old mission.” Ed hit the mic button on his radio. At least that battery hadn’t died and he could trust his own people. “Tracy, you there?” Hopefully all the veil-crossings and the Heartway-traveling hadn’t messed up his gear. He glanced around. Bad enough he’d lost his shotgun.
His radio crackled. “Sheriff?”
“I have the kids. We’re in… my driveway.” He huddled close to Gabe and Sophia. It really was cold.
“Copy that,” Melanie said. She had the early morning shift, which meant that they’d
