Of Blood and Honey (Fey and the Fallen) by Stina Leicht Read Free Book Online Page B

“I got it from him , Father.”
    Father Murray reacted as if the coin were red hot, dropping it onto the table and spilling his tea. He hopped up from his chair. “What is it?”
“Only a wee coin, Father,” she said, attempting to hide her amusement.
    He looked down at the shilling. “Oh. Yes. I see.”
    She went to the sink for a towel in order to clean up the mess. “I must know where it came from. You went to University. I thought maybe you’d know.”
    “Didn’t you say that he brought it to you? Doesn’t he know?”
    Although she’d once told him Bran’s name, it seemed neither of them were willing to bring themselves to speak it. “He needs its origins and history, if that’s possible. It’s important.”
    Father Murray frowned and then got up, checking the hallway before shutting the kitchen door. “I’ve never asked this before.” He paused. “But how often do you see… him?”
    It was her turn to be uncomfortable. “Before Liam was born, I saw him every day. But now? Sometimes I don’t see him for years. We’ve met twice in the past three months. And he keeps pressing me to leave with him. Something is wrong, Father. I’m frightened.”
    Father Murray’s expression grew more distressed.
    “Don’t worry, Father. It’s married I am and married I’ll stay. I may not be a good woman, but I’ll not break my vow.” She sipped her tea.
    “Don’t be so hard upon yourself. You were young. Such beings can be very persuasive.” He stared out the window, thoughtful. “You must be careful. They have great power to do harm.”
    “Not my Bran,” she said, but doubt lurked in the back of her mind. She’d seen Bran angry only the once, and that was after she had married. She had been angry too, telling him to leave her forever. He’d said he never would and that he’d kill Patrick. The fierceness of Bran’s rage had been terrifying, and that, more than any other reason, had been why she’d kept Liam from him. Patrick could be cruel, she knew, but it was a mundane cruelty—a cruelty that had boundaries and could be reasoned with. “Bran has good in him. I told you so before, Father. If he didn’t, would my Liam be such as he is?”
    “The Bible says that fallen angels can give a fair appearance.”
    “He’s no angel, fallen or otherwise,” she said. “He’s a púca. Didn’t I tell you so? And sure, all the stories of them are dark and foreboding, but that’s not my Bran. He’s a good man. I trust him. He’s looked after us even after I married another. He always has.” She didn’t look Father Murray in the eye. Even she could hear the self-deceit in her words.
    Father Murray sighed. “I hope you’re right.”
    “I am.” She said it with more confidence than she felt, and knowing that he was only humoring her made the silence that followed stretch raw across her nerves. “I’ve something I wish to ask you, Father. It’s about my Liam.”
He looked up from his tea. “What is it?”
“You told me to watch for… unnatural things around him.”
    “Has something happened?”
    “I don’t know. But Bran said he’d seen him at the Kesh and that he’d used ‘the Glamour.’”
    “How?”
    “I was too afraid to ask.”
    Again, the silence pulled at the tension in the bright hominess of the kitchen. Father Murray shifted in his chair and then took a sip of tea.
    “I can have someone check on him,” Father Murray said.
    “But we’ve tried to get a visit. No one will let us in.”
    Father Murray nodded. “I’ve made arrangements to meet with a member of the Advisory Committee next week. It’s worked before. Liam has no political connections. They’ll have to release him.”
    He sounded so certain that she breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you, Father.”
    “Now, about this coin,” Father Murray said. “What makes it so important?”
    “Bran says we must discover the name of a monster before the creature harms my family.” She didn’t mention that it was