Before things can get out of hand—I once saw them go from brotherly chiding to shifting into wolf form and going for each other’s throats before Seamus put a stop to it—Caiden shoots them a quelling look they both obey but will likely get back at him for later. After almost two centuries together, the three of them have a dynamic that flows seamlessly between business and friendship and back again.
Caiden gives me the nod to continue. “The morning after Taryn and I arrived in Vegas, I received a letter by courier here.”
“You said no one knew about this place,” Tiernan says.
“They didn’t. The letter was delivered by an attorney’s office at the instruction of Barwyn. That reminds me,” I say, turning to Connor. “Did you set up a time we can meet with him? I have a lot of questions I think he’ll be able to answer.”
The twins share a look that makes my stomach drop before Connor answers. “I’m sorry, man, but Barwyn is gone. We were coming back from his place when we got the call about you and Taryn.”
Conall adds, “We asked Chief McCarthy to run some tests to make sure, but we don’t suspect any foul play. He and his coyote were old as hell, bro. I think it was just their time.”
“Shit,” I mutter, swiping a hand over my face.
I didn’t know Barwyn well, but I know he was a friend of the Midnight Crown and did what he could to help us when we needed him. Taryn looks at me with concern swimming in her lavender eyes. I suspect she’s sympathizing with the loss of one of our subjects as well as what his death means for this quest.
Fiona asks, “What did Barwyn say in his letter to you?”
“That’s just it,” I say. “It wasn’t from him. His only job was to send it after the bizarre lunar eclipse happened the other night. The letter was from Moira Verran.”
There’s another record-scratch moment as everyone processes that mystery. Except for Dmitri. “Who is this Moira? Why does everyone look like they have seen a ghost?”
Taryn answers her brother. “She’s their grandmother who died in 1903. Three years before Finnian was even born.”
“Ah, so she is ghost. That is why.” Satisfied with that explanation, the Russian sits back again and takes a drink of his vodka. “Continue.”
Bryn puts her hands out in front of her like she’s stopping traffic. “Hold up. You’re saying Moira wrote a letter to her grandson who didn’t yet exist, then asked a friend to send that letter on a night when a lunar eclipse shouldn’t have happened to a place that didn’t yet exist, but once it did, no one knew the aforementioned grandson owned it and would be there to accept said letter?”
Taryn and I glance at each other, then back at Bryn. “Yes,” we say simultaneously.
Bryn rubs her temples. “God, I wish I could drink alcohol right now.”
Caiden wraps a supportive arm around his wife. “There’s only one reason any of that could happen. Moira must have been a seer.”
I nod. “That’s what she said in the letter. Even though we lost our court-born magic as one of Aine’s curses, Moira would’ve retained her specialty power the same as any fae who lived in Faerie before being exiled.”
“Like our dad,” Conall says. “But then why didn’t you already know she was a seer?”
“She said it’s dangerous for seers to reveal their gifts,” I say.
Fiona chimes in. “Most families with the seer specialty don’t even know about it. The secret is kept between the ones within their line who inherit the powers. It can be the same with conjurers. They do it to prevent others from wanting to use them for their abilities, or siphon their magic by drinking from them.”
Taryn pales next to me. “Yeah, about that.”
I take her hand and intertwine our fingers, squeezing them gently to let her know I’m here for her as she continues the story and tells Dmitri and my family the real reason Edevane held her hostage for a year. We also take turns filling them in about Moira’s visions and the scavenger hunt she’s set us on to find the other half of the spear.
Connor drops ice cubes into a rocks glass for a refill on his drink. “I get that Moira saw all the things she needed to know to make all this work, but how did the clues get into their hiding places when the Bellagio and the Venetian weren’t around until the late 90s?”
“I think she had another person she gave instructions to,” I say. “When I touched the clue that we found in the Bellagio, I had a vision of an elder fae male placing the glass vile behind the stone during its construction.”
“You’re having visions now?” Tier asks.
“Not like that. I think she spelled the clues to give me the vision.”
Tiernan arches a brow. “For what purpose?”
“How the fuck should I know, man? In case you haven’t noticed, most of this doesn’t make sense yet.”
He holds a hand up as if to say fine, I’ll back off so I pick up where I left off; the part where Edevane followed us into the burial chamber, stole the second clue—which I note I did not get a vision from because I didn’t get a chance to touch it—and then left us to drown.
Dmitri, no longer relaxed, shoves to his feet, his eyes red with bloodlust. “I will drain him dry and feast on his bones.”
Taryn and I speak in unison again. “Get in line.”
Bryn’s hand rubs over her belly absently as she thinks. “I wonder why Edevane doesn’t have the same reaction to your power as you, Taryn.”
Tiernan speaks up. “Because he only has a fraction of the power she has. When I siphoned Erin’s magic to do that memory spell on all those NPO members, it felt like I could barely contain it. Edevane has just enough to get the job done, but not so much that he’s bursting at the seams.” To Taryn, he adds, “I can’t imagine having what you describe flowing through you.”
Taryn offers a self-deprecating grin. “Zero out of ten, do not recommend.”
“Can I see the letter from Moira?” Fiona asks. “You said some of it doesn’t make sense. I’m pretty good at deciphering the cryptic language of the elders from all the old tomes I used to read with my mom.”
Bryn places a hand on her big belly and the other on the back of the couch to scooch herself to the edge of her seat. “Now you’re talking, sister. Let’s have a look, Finni.”
I retrieve the letter from where I stashed it in the gun safe and hand it to the girls who are now at the dining room table with everyone else hovering around them.
Pointing to the lines on the page, I say, “Here’s where we get stuck.”
Fiona reads, “‘For it is only you, my brave Finnian, who can harness the magic that saves our fair world.’”
