Home > Broken Dove (Fantasyland #4)(162)

Broken Dove (Fantasyland #4)(162)
Author: Kristen Ashley

Chris whirled to me, his eyes wide. The little boy coming out, he couldn’t hide his fear.

And at that, fire burned through me.

Those f**king witch bitches.

The women got even closer, Cora putting a hand to Chris’s shoulder and guiding him into our huddle.

“Miss Maddie,” Meeta whispered.

“We’re safe,” I stated.

“Miss Maddie, give me the child.” Meeta was still whispering.

Oh crap.

I tipped my head back to look at her.

I didn’t like what I saw.

“No,” I said softly.

She stared into my eyes.

“They blocked me,” she said softly. “Their power directed on other things, I am no longer blocked.”

She had been blocked.

She was no longer blocked.

She knew what was going to happen.

And she wanted Élan.

Okay.

Shit.

No.

Apollo’s words pounded through my brain.

Do you not think all this says that it is time we set the sadness and tragedy where it belongs and look ahead to a future that could do nothing but beam bright?

I stared into Meeta’s eyes.

Apparently, he was wrong.

Making my decision, I surged up, pushing Élan her way. “Go!” I cried and turned to Loretta. “Take Chris!”

Loretta instantly grabbed Chris.

“Maddie, it’s oh—” Finnie started.

At the same time, Chris shouted, “I stay with Miss Maddie!”

It was then there came a deafening explosion, the force of which blew the windows and curtains in, shattered glass and shards of velvet blasting through the air.

I reached for Chris and shoved him to the floor as we all hit the deck.

When the glass settled, I lifted my head and my eyes found Meeta’s.

“Take them now!” I yelled, rolling off Chris, coming to my feet and pulling him up with me, pure instinct prompting me to finish. “Take them to the wolves!”

Meeta rose, coming off of Élan who she’d thrown herself on, dragging the weight of the girl up in her arms and starting to run.

“I stay with Miss Maddie!” Chris shouted, and I looked to see Loretta was pulling him to the doors, but he was resisting her.

“Go with Loretta, Chris, please!” I shouted as the room started filling with mist.

Red mist.

Blue mist.

Black mist.

Bad mist.

All of it swirling around me, Cora, Finnie and Circe.

The men outside surged in and I saw all of Apollo’s men there and some of Frey’s.

Shit!

“Miss Maddie!” Élan shrieked and I saw her stretching her arms my way as she and Meeta disappeared around the door.

In her place, another Circe raced in, trailed by Valentine.

They lifted their hands and gold and green sparks filled the room.

I felt my hand tagged and I looked right.

Cora had me.

I felt my other had tagged and I looked left.

Circe had me.

I looked in front of me.

Circe and Cora had Finnie.

“Shit, shit, shit,” Finnie whispered right when the room faded away.

* * * * *

Apollo

Apollo followed Lahn into the stone room in the bowels of the Winter Palace, a room full of men.

And one woman.

The moment they hit it, Lahn turned to look over his shoulder at Apollo.

“Is this her?’ he growled.

Apollo had no idea what was asking and didn’t care.

Maddie was gone. Knowing his children were under heavy guard of soldiers, witches and wolves, getting her back was the only thing on his mind.

Lahn decided to take his non-answer as answer and stalked directly to Franka Drakkar, who was cowering in the corner under Oleg and Laures.

He shoved the men aside and Apollo watched as he lifted the woman by her throat and threw her across the room.

She didn’t even have time to scream.

Lahn followed her where she landed against the stone with a thud and he bent over, his face an inch from hers.

“Betrayal,” he barked, “carries harsh punishment.”

Frey, already in the room, got close to Lahn.

“For now, we need her alive,” Frey said quietly, but his voice was tight, controlled. There was anger in his frame making it stiff and he was avoiding looking at Franka, likely for fear of what he himself would do if he looked at her.

“I did as you asked,” Franka whispered, and Apollo forced his eyes to her.

Her gaze shifted from Lahn to Frey.

“I did as you asked!” she cried.

“Bring her to me.”

All the men turned to see the other Circe and Valentine in the room, Tor having come in behind them.

Apollo moved until he was toe-to-toe, nose-to-nose with the witch, and he clipped, “You said they were safe.”

“Bring the woman to me,” she demanded then stepped leisurely to the side and turned her eyes to Frey. “Call your elves. We meet on Specter Isle.”

Tor moved to her side, ordering, “Send us there now.”

Valentine turned to him. “With the triad intact, their magic is too strong. I can’t get you there. I can’t get me there. And Lavinia has fallen to Helda.”

Apollo’s gut twisted at this news and Valentine kept talking.

“We will have to be clever. For the elves to do their work against our foes and for Lavinia, we will have to be swift. And we will have to have hope.”

Apollo opened his mouth to speak but Valentine continued before he could utter a word.

“As I suspected, this is a battle of sisters and magic. Just sisters and magic. Both the same thing. Not all good. Not all evil. We shall see which side prevails. But you must trust in good for our side knows allies whose bonds are formed in ways that cannot be broken.”

Apollo felt something unpleasant shift inside him and whispered, “You knew. You knew our plan would fail.”

She looked to him. “I told you, mon loup, I do not have the sight.”

He leaned into her and thundered, “You knew!”

She didn’t respond to that.

She said, “Keep your wolves at the ready around the palace and bring the woman to me.” Her eyes stayed locked to his. “Bring her to me, Apollo. To win, we need our own evil. There is only one thing more powerful than vengeance and if you bring her to me, we will have both on our side.”

Apollo held her gaze and clenched his jaw.

Then he stepped to the side and turned to Frey and Lahn.

“Give her Franka.”

Frey didn’t move. Lahn only moved to straighten away from the woman still on her back on the floor.

It was Achilles who shifted forward, helped Franka from the stone, and escorted her as any gentleman would do, as only Achilles would now do, to Valentine.

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