Part 1 (1/2)
Gold.
A Bandia Novel.
Talia Vance.
ONE.
Ireland is magic. There's no other way to describe it. The air is alive, so cold it cuts right through skin and bone, even though it's supposed to be summer. Ever present clouds move across the sky, dampening the ground with fat drops of rain that make everything glisten. The earth smells of loose dirt and something richer. The elements converge and meld, coming together so fiercely that even a human must feel their power.
I am drunk with it.
I ride in the back of a black BMW driven by a tall guy with ginger mutton chop sideburns and a tight blue suit. Apparently, the full facial sideburn is making a comeback here. His name is Mikel, which rhymes with pickle, but he had to tell me three times before I got it right, so I'm just going with Mick. He doesn't smile, but he keeps glancing at me in the rearview mirror. His eyes are rimmed with a sadness that makes him seem older than his eighteen years.
”Did Joe tell you why I'm here?” I ask.
Mick shakes his head. ”Not my business.”
”Don't you want to know what I'm running from?”
”Nope.”
When Joe left me at LAX yesterday and told me his friend would be there when I landed in Dublin, I a.s.sumed that Mick already knew what he was getting into. That he understood the danger.
”You should. You might change your mind about helping me.”
”Doubt it.” Mick concentrates on the narrow road in front of him.
The houses get farther apart as we drive. Sheep graze in pastures so green they make my eyes hurt. I blink back a tear. I refuse to let myself cry.
It wasn't my fault.
I take a deep breath and concentrate on pulling myself together. ”Where are we going?” I ask, trying again to engage Mick. Trying to distract myself.
A hint of a smile teases at the corners of his eyes. ”A place I think you'll like.”
”Thank you Mr. Vague.”
”Lorcan Hall on the Dingle Penninsula.”
The unfamiliar names mean nothing to me, but at least we have an actual destination. It's not enough to ground me, but it's something. I lean back against the seat and suck in another taste of the wild air. I need to tell him what's coming. ”The Sons are looking for me.”
I wait for some reaction, but he doesn't take his eyes off the road. ”Figured as much.”
”You get what that means, right? They want me dead. And I won't go down without a fight.”
He sighs. ”You never have.”
What's that supposed to mean? He sounds so certain. ”I'm sorry, have we met?”
”Yes.” He must catch my look of confusion in the mirror, because he adds. ”Perhaps not yet.”
”What do you mean not yet? Either we've met or we haven't.” And I'm pretty sure I would remember meeting a red-headed Elvis Costello with mutton chops.
”We have a mutual friend.”
”Joe. I know. That's not the same thing as actually meeting. Did Joe tell you about what happened?”
Mick shakes his head. ”I wasn't thinking of Joe. I meant Lord Lorcan.”
”Not ringing a bell.” I don't know a Lord anything. I mean, Blake can be holier than thou at times, but he's only a demiG.o.d.
”You probably know him as Montgomery.”
The cold air fills me until I'm nearly numb. I haven't heard his name in weeks. Austin Montgomery. A murderer. A G.o.d. The air in the car swirls around me before I can think to call it. I fight against the urge to blow out the windows of this d.a.m.n car. I struggle to keep my power under control. It's what got me into this mess in the first place. Besides, Austin is safely locked up in the underworld where he belongs. I start counting in exponents of seven until the wind settles around me. I don't speak until I'm certain I can say his name without losing it. ”Austin is not my friend.”
Mick lifts his chin stiffly. ”Sorry to hear that.”
I wonder if this means he won't help me. ”You can just let me off at the next town.”
”I promised Joe I would keep an eye you.”
c.r.a.p. I don't even know this guy. Maybe this was a set up to begin with. Blake was furious when he sent me off with Joe. ”Here then.” I look out the window. There's nothing but fields and sheep and rain.
”Easy, bandia.”
It's what Blake said to me the first time he saw me. The tears are back all at once. They stream down my cheeks in long lines, little waterfalls of saline that I can't stop.
Mick doesn't say anything more. He keeps his eyes firmly on the road. I don't have much choice but to trust him. I'm halfway around the world with no friends and a bunch of demiG.o.ds out to kill me.
I don't know how long I cry, but it's a good half hour later before Mick tries to talk to me again. ”I don't know what happened with you and-” he pauses before he stumbles over Austin's name. ”It doesn't matter. I am sworn to protect all that is his.”
My anger is back tenfold. My body burns with fire. It's a welcome relief from the hurt that squeezes my heart and twists. ”I am not his. Not even close. Austin killed my horse. He nearly drowned my best friend. He made me kill my boyfriend. I sent him back to the underworld where he belongs.”
Mick covers his mouth with his hand. ”Oh my.”
”Are you laughing?” Blue flames start to spark on my fingertips, my power there before I can stop it, ready to strike. I take a deep breath and concentrate on another element, water. Ice.
Better. I can control this. I have to.
Mick shakes his head, but he keeps his hand firmly over his mouth.
”It's not funny.”
Mick removes his hand, and looks as stoic as ever. ”The path to your destiny never is.”
Then he does laugh. ”I think I'm going to like you.”