The Fourth Tier: Heroes of the Line, #4

By JA Carlton

THE DRUMS OF WAR BEAT in time with the pulse of two universes on the brink of extinction.

 

In our sister universe, led by the youngest Emerson, the Heroes unite with their Sidhe brethren. 

 

The time has come to pay old debts, renew ties and re-affirm alliances to turn back the invading tide of Living Dark as its claws sink deeper into the birthplace of its first enemy

• Language: English
• Publisher: JA Carlton
• Release date: Mar 6, 2024
• ISBN: 9798223200512

Book preview

Other Works by JA Carlton:

The Freedom Fighter series:

Wednesday’s Child

Into The Fire

Fortune’s Tide

Heroes of the Line:

Nick, of Time; Heroes of the Line Book 1

Second Hand; Heroes of the Line Book 2

The Third Race; Heroes of the Line Book 3

Broken

Soul Hunter

Touch Me: A Beginner’s Guide to Massage *

Coming Soon:

At The Crossroads: The Destiny of Choice *

Gratitude:

There are a lot of people I owe a lot of gratitude to, so starting at the top, my dear friend Laney Zuliani, you may not always like what I write, but you get it. Thanks for that.

Immeasureable thanks to Terry Carvajal and Dainah Sykes for all the wonderful insights and questions and points you both brought to mind during the editing process, your contributions have helped bring both worlds into sharper and more vivid relief, therefore making the stories all that much better.

Michael Blakesley, the artist responsible for the incredible cover! You took a concept and turned it into compelling art. Thank you.

And as always gratitude must be given to my usual stalwarts: Jodi Gil, Katrine Wang Svendsen, Carol Lloyd, (the keepers of the drafts).

And to the kast and krew of Supernatural; #AlwaysKeepFighting.

BEFORE...

Dusk was teetering into night as Nick limped toward the ruins of the Aine Haud. On the right was a large scaffold with three distinct shapes: Ayeles, Rose and Tommy, each wrapped separately and waiting patiently for his arrival.

On the left, either standing or lying, were the living.

We’re all wounded now. The dead are the lucky ones. He nodded solemnly, able to identify each of the remaining warriors by silhouette alone.

The others:  Shep, Dylan, Harry, Lou, Wee, Ilirya, Vahl, Wellyn, Mickey, and, though last, the most important survivor, the only one that mattered to him at all, Frank, stood watch over Ryan’s comatose form.

It was the little one who broke ranks, racing over the ashen landscape, his face wet with relief and grief as he leaped at his big brother, colliding painlessly with him as their arms clasped around one another.

Nick fell to his knees, holding onto everything that mattered to him.

I couldn’t, Frank. I tried to undo it, he sniffed helplessly and felt his little brother nod against his neck.

It’s ‘cause this is the time that’s supposed to be. All the other ones were changeable ‘cause they were all trying to get back here. Least that’s what Ilirya says. 

Drying his face on the belly of his big brother’s shirt, Frank then rose up, helping push the older boy to his feet. He slung Nick’s arm over his shoulder and angled him back toward the waiting group where one after the other, arms entwined, and both relief and grief were shared over and over again until there wasn’t a dry eye to be had among them.

Later, with the moon high in the sky, what was left of the Heroes of the Line lay sleeping to escape the traumas of the day. The mass funeral pyre still burned bright, providing a measure of security against the beings of the night that otherwise might have found them vulnerable.

Vanwah feya.

Beside his brother, Frank rolled over. His eyes snapped open, peering into the darkness.

Quietly, he rolled up to his feet; Nick, always attuned to his little brother, even in sleep, gave a curious groan.

Gotta pee, he thought toward the older boy, noting how quickly exhaustion let him settle back into sleep as Frank tip-toed out into the night, toward a tiny speck of pasty paleness that stood patiently waiting in the deepest shadows.

Frank stopped several feet away from The One, his hand curled around his pocket mag-lite.

The Master Schade’s right hand ghoul bowed deeply, Good evening, my king.

To Be Continued...

NOW...1

A chill burrowed through Nick, drawing his awareness up from the depths of his exhausted sleep. Every millimeter of his body ached, his mind hurt and his heart felt lifeless in his chest despite its consistent beat. He rolled toward the empty spot his little brother should have occupied. Reaching for him and coming up empty, his eyes popped open and scanned the area, his blood freezing to stabbing shards of ice at what he saw deep in the mid-night darkness.

‘What the hell?’ He thought then quickly shuttered everything closed, his emotions, his curiosity, his uncertainty, everything or anything Frank or anyone else could possibly sense.

His dark adapted gaze flew over the area once more, the pyres were burning low, little more than embers now, and soon to be nothing but ash where there had once been the bodies of both friends and allies. The others were sleeping, snores and murmurs were sounds of comfort, and the songs of nocturnal insects lent cover to the teen as he rolled onto his stomach, glancing over his shoulder at those who remained, the ones that were ill equipped at best, to fight the coming war. ‘They’re all going to die.’ He turned his eyes once more to Frank, the youngest Emerson’s little body trying to hide the fact that he was within arm’s reach of one of the most cruel and deadly schades they’d ever encountered, Ne’ Min.

‘Stop...’ he thought, visualizing the timescape of this realm and holding it and all its inhabitants still almost effortlessly. He leaped to his feet, racing low across the black expanse separating him from Frank. With Ryan’s Maglite in hand, he took cover under the Jurassic sized leaves of a shrub within feet of the pair.  

‘What did you do to him?’ He wondered glaring hard at Ne’ Min. He was not just the Master’s right hand, but also the one who’d captured and held Frank hostage while wearing the skin of a human Mage he’d murdered. He was also the one who’d been behind every torment and torture Nick had endured for the entire month he’d been captive in the schade stronghold.

Settled in and keeping a tight rein on every aspect of his mental state, Nick released the timescape from his hold, allowing all life as he was able to sense it, to resume moving forward.

...he learns of it before everything’s set, the plan will fail. Frank whispered urgently, casting a glance back toward the faint glow of the dying pyre, his ability to see anything but that glow an unrealized hope.

My king, Ne’ Min inclined his bald, pale head, his white opaque eyes somehow seeming to latch onto the littlest Emerson’s, My Master, Heru Tur, has sent many of my kind into the realm of man, they will seek out those born of the Heroes and they will kill them all, down to the last until none but you remain.

Nick felt his eyes narrow as he listened intently and tried to keep his mind from jumping to conclusions, from making the assumptions logic told him he should be making.

The schade bowed its head, its gaze moving from the outlines lying near the pyre back to Frank.

Nicky? Frank breathed.

He will not be spared.

And if I do?

The schade bowed its head, few things are certain.

You’re not giving me any reason to trust you, or to lead anyone against the others. Frank crossed his arms over his chest, his mouth set in a firm, fine line that Nick knew far too well. In fact, the sight of that tell-tale trademark of stubborn determination brought a smile to the elder Emerson and allowed him to take a slightly deeper breath. Maybe, just maybe, Frank had a better handle on the schade’s agenda than he thought. It wouldn’t be the first time the youngest Emerson had used some of the tremendous insights he’d gleaned from all the minds he’d sampled through the last four years. Maybe Nick didn’t need to be so fearful that his little brother would or could be manipulated so easily after all.

The only way to ensure continued existence for ALL of Danu’s children is through unity under one leader my king. Tur will do all he can to ensure that you do NOT achieve that goal, he knows as well as you do that it was Oemir who was to lead the kingdoms, it is the soul of Oemir that was meant to unite our people, not to divide them!

The littlest Emerson shook his head while worrying his lips between his teeth. His eyes narrowed and his heart beat hard in his chest, sweat trickled down his back, itching over the stitches that held the talon holes from that half-avian monstrosity the Pirini, closed. His body ached and deep in the back of his throat a faintly metallic taste reared up again, he was exhausted and teetering on the precipice of illness once more. It was time for the anti-toxin Ne’ Min had brought him, and been dosing him with in order to drive back the poison from the carrion eating fowl. Whatever else the sinister schade had done, he’d probably saved Frank’s life, and though it was most certainly done to further its own agenda or master’s plans, whichever it was really pushing, Frank was still grateful.

It’s Tur’s fault this all happened anyway! He’s the one that brought down the curse when he tried to kill Conchobar and take over two whole worlds! I can’t believe anything he says, he has to know that!

My Heru has had millennia to conceive the plan to correct his mistake...

Which one’s that? The one that could maybe kill off two whole worlds? He made this mess and ‘cause of him it’s up to us to fix it, you tell him if he wants anything to do with anything in this world he’s gonna have to surrender, fix our people and send the vestiges back! Frank hissed his hand slipping from his pocket, fingers wrapped tight around his mini Maglite. He flicked the instrument toward Ne’ Min but didn’t turn it on just yet.

What has been done, cannot be undone my king.

Then we’re done, Frank shook his head and motioned into the woods, go back to your master, tell him to stay out of our way or he won’t like what happens.

Vanwah Feya, you must consider the lives of your people, we can exist in peace... you can live, love, grow old and never know war, or the pain of untimely death...

Frank twisted the light on, its beam sweeping to the side, just close enough to cause the schade to startle and lean backward. Ne’ Min turned his disbelieving eyes on Frank before looking toward the more comfortable shadows it was so accustomed to.

‘But you can’t promise me Nicky will live or know any of that’, Frank thought shaking his head, Until you can offer something worthwhile, stay away or next time I see you, I will kill you.

‘No! Jesus Frank! You can’t give ‘em an opening! What’s the matter with you?!’ Nick’s eyes popped open, his gasp catching so hard in his throat he could barely breathe. The rotten taste of a splitting and sinister timeline touched the back of his tongue as he rolled quickly to all fours, grasped Wee’s gun and pedaled against the silky ash, racing out of the bubble of warmth created by the pyre and toward the tree line where, true to the vision he’d just had, Frank stood, arms wrapped around his chest, staring and whispering urgently to the schade in the shadows.

GET DOWN! He ordered into his little brother’s mind, startling the youngest Emerson so that he wheeled around, his mouth dropping in a wide ‘O’ of surprise just before he threw himself to the ground on his belly.

A bare heartbeat later, the thunderous cracking of half a dozen bullets shattered the cold night as Nick raced into the trees, hoping he’d hit the schade.

Nicky no! Frank called rising to his feet to give chase once his brother had passed. Nick don’t, it’s not what it looks like! he tried to assure while casting a glance over his shoulder at the suddenly wide awake group of allies searching the area near the pyre and calling for them.

In the dark Frank couldn’t see anywhere near as well as his big brother could, so when he bounced off the older boy’s back he wrapped his arms tightly around him, Nicky stop.

The eldest of the junior Emerson’s turned grabbing Frank by the shirtfront, his face twisted with anger and suspicion, What the hell Frank! I mean what the HELL!? he demanded, You’re talking to that bastard like he’s your goddamned best friend! Didn’t you get enough of him the last few days! What the hell’s the matter with you!? he yelled, shaking the little one as fear threatened to overtake him.

Nick stop, Frank grunted, grasping his hands, please.

In the distance the others, those that were able, were fanning out toward the tree line, calling for the boys, the timbre of worry unmistakable.

What the hell kind of deal were you making!? he hollered barely able to contain the fearful fury roiling inside.

Lou Stewart, one of their newest allies, and a descendant of the famed Celtic King Conchobar was the first to reach them. Tucking his gun into the back of his pants he made the mistake of grabbing Nick and turning him away from Frank.

Every torment from the last few days burst forth from the fourteen year old leaving his nine year old little brother, as well as the son of a king staring in wonder as in the blink of an eye the teen seemed to ‘pop’ in height until he was taller than Lou himself though he was now frighteningly thin.

The abrupt change in his body’s size tore through the stitches down the right side of Nick’s back, the slice there having come from a schade wearing Shep’s sister. It’d tried to open him up for consumption by its vestige guardian. Blood poured down the young man’s back but he didn’t feel it. In fact the only thing he felt was an uncontrollable compulsion to swing a hammer fist at the blond haired man who’d dared interfere with him and Frank.

The first punch came as a surprise, knocking Lou back several steps even as Nick stalked forward, all signs of civility gone, replaced with something bestial that none of them had ever seen before.

You! he growled through clenched teeth, grasping Lou by the shirtfront with one hand while the other slammed forward with another lightning fast, rock-hard jab.

Lou’s head snapped back, a line of blood slipped from the corner of his mouth, and though surprise and a flicker of fear moved through his bright green eyes, his hands came up and the struggle began.

From the moment they’d met, Lou had the feeling he and Nick were going to come to blows. He’d just never anticipated that the teen could change his age or physical stature. From what he understood, the boy’s new ability was a byproduct of magiks the ancient Druid Cathbad had performed to save his life. He’d opened the floodgates of the Emerson blood line all the way back to the beginnings of his first incarnation, leaving all the gifts of all the lines of Oemir and his descendants available to the child. As Nick’s fist crashed once more into his jaw, making his eyes goggle in his skull and his ears start to ring, Lou realized he was going to have to fight back.

His right arm rolled around Nick’s, locking it down while he moved behind the boy, pinning his arm to his back, capturing him momentarily. His left hand pulled the gun from the back of his pants and threw it toward the others who’d gathered to watch, unsure if they should try to stop the fight or just let the overwhelmed teenager-in-a-mans-body wear himself out.

Don’t do this Nick, I don’t wanna hurt you, the garage owner growled into the young man’s ear.

Give it your best shot, Nick spat, turning into the hold and falling to one knee, his free arm pulsed forward in a battering ram of a palm strike right into Lou’s breastbone.

The move took him by surprise, his heart stuttered in his chest and his breath caught as he stumbled backwards, bent over for a quick second before he leaped forward, feinting to throw a punch before dropping down and sweeping the Emerson’s legs out from under him.

He moved quickly, leaping on top of the boy, working hard to pin him down against his sweat-slick grip. Nick stop! C’mon man, we can’t do this, not now, not here! We need to work together.

Just a few feet away Wee, watching the contest, and having been one of the two people to teach the boys to fight, knew exactly what Lou was doing as he pulled himself over Nick, but there were things about Nick that Lou didn’t know that Wee feared could cost them dearly. His heart skipped several quick beats as he pulled Frank to his chest and felt something savage snap inside his eldest nephew at the same time he breathed, Not on top of him...

Nick’s free hand came up, fingers and thumb grasping Lou’s Adam’s apple, the fingers clamping so hard and fast the descendant of Conchobar gagged, his eyes bulging when he found himself suddenly unable to pull away from the child.

Nick pulled Lou forward, literally by the throat and bucked, angling his forehead toward the man’s nose, but Lou, out of sheer desperation jerked back. Finally freeing himself from the boy’s grip he sought to block his blows and get hold of his hands so he could pin him down till he could get control of the feral madness that had him in its grip.

Nicky please! Frank called, still held in check by Wee, We gotta work as a team, we gotta be Heroes.

Nick froze, panting hard as sanity snuck back into him. His gaze flicked from one face to another, taking them all in while Lou held him down.

Wee held Frank tight in his embrace, his face crinkled and lips gone he was chewing them so hard. Harry, his and Frank’s best friend, stood wide eyed, sweating and swallowing hard, but sorrow and compassion visible under the fear.

Ilirya, the future Queen of all Sidhe, and the woman his first ancestor was supposed to marry, stood calm, her face blank though deep in her eyes Nick could sense storms of uncertainty. She can’t read me, or see my path, he realized, surprised by the revelation. Wellyn and Mickey, two new allies stood watching, the Sidhe warrior curious and, very like Harry, somehow understanding the boy’s need to defend his position while asserting the dominance of his line, while Mickey’s open appreciation of violence and seeming blood-lust just made Nick’s belly quiver.

Over there, separated from the others just a little, was Shepard MacGregor, brother to Lizzie Daykin, the hunter whose skin the schade had been wearing when it tried to gut Nick just yesterday; he sat on his knees, his head bowed, forlorn and almost felled by the loss of his nephew Tommy. Nick recalled a vision from another line; Shep and Tommy had saved his life when he’d gone after a vestige and it’d somehow managed to punch out thousands of needle-points of his person from that plane of existence. Frank was mute then, Pigg got to him, used him up, I couldn’t save him... Then all the way in the back, obscured by shadows, shoulders and silhouettes, stood Dylan, quiet, his gaze hard and steely on the boy, measuring him but why or for what, Nick didn’t care. Dylan was nothing to him, it was time he stopped pretending there was hope of anything else.

Finishing his perusal of their friends, family and allies Nick’s gaze returned to Lou, a rage fueled shine starting deep in the back of his eyes, his lips peeled away from his teeth and his hands pulled from the garage owner’s grip then crashed into his shoulders. He pushed Lou’s more than considerable weight off of him then even managed to force him to his feet, much to the older man’s consternation.

Every ounce of energy that could no longer be contained by his body moved through his arms, down to his fingers, searing Lou’s shirt until smoke rose and the heat penetrated into his skin, driving him in horrified confusion to finally let go and lurch backward, swatting at his bubbling flesh and clothing.

Nick... no, Frank hissed racing forward to help Lou crush the embers out of existence.

What the hell? Wee gasped looking to Harry who he was sure had to know something. But the old man shook his head, his lips bowing down and his eyes narrowing with uncertainty, he’d never seen anything like that before.

Vanwah Feya, Ilirya raised a hand toward him but did not move as the young man moved his hands, seeming to draw the energy down his arms, toward his fingertips. 

Around his fingers the air began to tremble and waver, reminding them all of heat-shimmer in the desert. It moved and coalesced in a ball, Nick’s expression twisted as he looked once more among those who were now irrefutably different from whatever it was he’d just revealed himself to be.

No... he breathed, his eyes turning back to where the schade had stood, another bout of almost uncontainable rage gave the energy the impetus he needed to expel it before it could do him or anyone else any more harm. Sorry man, he muttered to Lou who stood watching him, grimacing as Wellyn poured water from his canteen over the finger sized burns making them hiss steam into the cool night air.

Push it out Nick, like you did before, Frank urged quietly, taking Wee and Harry by complete surprise. Neither of them knew there were fingerprints borne of fear on the wooden frame at the foot of Nick’s bed.

He did it before, when he got home, he got scared and had to push it out, he burned the bed, Frank explained to no one and everyone as Nick turned, raised his leg up as if he was going to throw a baseball and instead pitched a roiling ball of energy into the spot Ne’ Min had stood only moments ago.

Flora burst into flame then quickly turned to ash as all eyes watched, then turned to the young man, each of them shining with so many unspeakable questions and feelings, chief among them, fear.

Nothing can be the same now, he knew. His head fell forward, chin to his chest as he shuffled through the ashen remnants of the Aine Haud, toward Ryan’s inert body unsure whether it would be life or death that would have its way with him. He’d saved Wee’s life when Cathbad’s mound was destroyed, his body suffering grievous wounds in the process as his insides had been torn and flushed outside by the sheer force of the destruction. There weren’t many things that Ryan couldn’t or hadn’t survived, mainly thanks to a deal he’d cut decades ago with a very powerful demon. No one knew about it for sure except Wee, and now Nick through some insight from one of the other lines running through him, possibly knowledge his own father had held. But he didn’t care. Demons weren’t their burden, schades and vestiges were what the Emerson boys had been born into this world to battle, and like Ryan, Nick could no longer pretend he was like everyone else, he could no longer hide the fact that he and his brother were both, indeed, something very different, and probably something very different from human. 

Can’t let that happen again, I’ll hurt someone, gotta shut it down, cut it off. How do I stop feeling? Just stop. His thoughts whirled as he returned to their camp site, slid into his bedroll and laid his head down on his arm, closing his eyes and giving in to exhaustion while back at the tree line the others simply stared, none of them knowing what to think.

What the hell was that Frank? What happened? Wee asked kneeling before the little one who stood trembling and fearful, his head shaking back and forth in disbelief. Nick was good at fighting but Frank never would’ve thought he’d turn on a friend. Harry, Wee shot over his shoulder, angling his chin back toward the older boy.

Yep, with a nod Harry shuffled back toward the camp. When it came to the youngest Emersons it was him they trusted most. He’d spent over eighteen years trying to restore them to a history the first Nick, the one he’d been best friends with, hoped would open the way to change their destiny. He’d dedicated over eighteen years of his life to repeating the same six to twelve months, watching over Nick and Frank as children before the time came to reveal the truth of their histories and fate of two worlds hinging on a single soul that’d been split between two brothers; the last time he’d done it was four years ago.

For four years they’d been moving through temporal territory he’d always hoped to bring them to, but whose consequences none of them could fathom.

While Frank filled the others in on the events of the last few days as they’d passed in their home realm, starting with Ne’ Min showing up, Harry eased himself down onto the ground, crossing his legs with a great deal of effort that darkened the chocolate of his complexion.

Been a rough couple week’s kiddo.

Nick’s summer sky blue eyes popped open, and as he eased onto his back, his arms behind his head, his gaze on the countless galaxies dotting the sky, Harry noticed he’d grown thicker, more muscular now than he was less than three minutes ago while wrestling with Lou. He wasn’t just an overly-tall walking skeleton, he’d grown into a twenty-something looking man. In fact, he looked almost exactly like he had when he’d walked into the vortex in Sedona, resigning himself to oblivion in the face of his grief and leaving Harry to carry on until time itself was done with him.

Don’t suppose the last few days have made it any easier, or what Cathbad did either.

I’m starting to think our original timeline wasn’t so bad after all. I mean hell, I learned how to walk again, how to fight, all I’d have to do is stop that motherfucker gettin’ his hands on Frank ‘n tearin’ him apart, god knows, knowing what I do now, I sure as hell could kill that son of a bitch easier than takin’ a breath.

A chill shot up Harry’s spine, memories flew backwards by decades, to that first Nick, the one that started it all, the kid didn’t just look like the first Nick Harry’d known, it really was that Nick who was talking; there was a feeling of brotherhood he’d know in any space or time. And talking with him now was just as easy as it always had been.

I know you could, but that’s not what’s supposed to be. We both know it, else why would you have set me on this path huh?

Sorry about that. You wasted a lot of years.

Harry was taken aback, inexplicable tears welled in his eyes and his lips trembled, "’S’at what you think? You think it was a waste... You think I wasted my life? his breath shook in his chest as he mopped his face less wet while a mirthless, angry, laugh bubbled from his chest, ...anyone fuckin’ wasted a life it was your sorry ass! You pathetic piece of shit! You left me alone to fix your fuck up! You left ME because you were too damned WEAK to face up to losing! And you left ME to make damned sure you turned out to be someone better than you were back then and so help me you son of a bitch, I did it! I did what you never could! I did it. ME. I’m the ONE who made it possible for THIS TIME’s NICK to be a better man at fourteen than you EVER WERE! So don’t you tell me I fuckin’ wasted my damned time! AT LEAST I NEVER GAVE UP! he yelled furiously then rose, his hand raking his scalp, then covering his mouth as he paced then dug a flask out of his pocket and sucked hard on it. Selfish son of a bitch, I been prayin’ for decades for this... and now... knowing the boy you’re riding... you’re not even worth it!" he spat.

Had that boiling a bit huh? Nick hummed but didn’t say anything, after all, what could he say. Harry was right, they both knew it, his weakness was why he’d laid the onus on Harry in the first place. He’d needed someone stronger than he could ever have been in that lifetime, to do what he never could have. And this night, was evidence he’d chosen well.

Silence stretched between them till Harry sighed settling himself back down on the ground, What’d you do to Lou? And how’d you blow that bush up?

In the waning light of the pyre Nick’s shrug cast a mutant shadow on the ground leaving Harry to wonder why the schades didn’t try to reach through them to bring the boy back to their fortress, or worse, just kill him where he lay.

Kid’s got a lot of pent up shit.

Trust me, I know.

It’s his power, part of it anyway.

Don’t you mean your power?

Nick shrugged again, I guess, I mean we are both the same person right?

He’s a shit-ton smarter than you ever were, Harry grinned giving the twenty-something man a gentle shove.

No kidding! He chuckled, I coulda been that smart if Wee and Ryan’d been around back in our time.

Maybe. Talk t’me Nick, what happened over the last week?

Nick sat up leaving a large dark wet splotch in the bedroll then wiggled out of the too-tight t-shirt, Ripped my stitches, you up for some sewing? Then turned to show his best friend the oozing slash between his shoulder blade and spine.

Jesus, Harry sighed taking another swig before tucking his flask back into his jacket and grabbing his knapsack, what happened?

Nick settled himself on his stomach, his chin on his forearms as Harry swabbed the area as clean as he could.

If I sew you up this age and size, you’re gonna hafta stay this way ‘til you’re healed, can you do that?

Nick nodded, I’ll try.

I got a feeling all that personal time jumping you’re doing just can’t be good for a body, Harry sighed, squinting against the setting moon to thread the needle, So, what’d you find out back home? He asked piercing the first flap of skin. 

They’re taking over hunters on our side. It’s a foothold situation, they cut ‘em open, a vestige drops its seedlings into the body and they snarf down everything, leaves just the meatsuit behind for the schade to wear. In the meantime the seedlings grow into a full-fledged vestige. The bastard wearing Lizzy almost got me, if it wasn’t for Jack and you.

Me?

The you from this time.

Ahhh Jesus, you got the now-me involved in this shit?

I didn’t have much of a choice, cops caught me wailing the tar out of Lou’s buddy Silas, he got meat-suited, they tased my ass which left Ne’ Min, he’s the one that was wearing Silas, to grab Frankie.

Who’s Ne’ Min?

Tur’s right hand... Heru Tur... He’s the Master Schade... he’s the one that split my soul in half and made it mortal. When I found out his right hand was the one inside Silas I swear I almost lost it man.

I bet. So you called this line’s me and got some help.

Yep, you’re in the home realm, working with Jack Masters, I hope you know how to take care of yourself, I don’t trust that son of a bitch as far as I can throw him.

Harry grinned and half grimaced running a fresh stitch through a new piece of skin, You got a potty mouth man.

Learned from the best.

Soft footfalls moved gingerly through the powdery ash.

Am I interrupting? Mickey asked settling herself down beside Nick, her hand trembling as she reached out to him, tempted beyond measure by the sight of his body, it was everything she remembered, even if those memories were from a timeline she had never really lived.

What’d Frank tell ‘em? Nick asked shifting his gaze from Harry to the girl he was relieved to see. At least something’s right in this friggin’ line!

The truth, it wants to cut a deal, they’ve given up on getting you to join the branches of kin together and have told Frank that he can do it. Tur’s willing to let him take the reins if it’ll stop the war between us and the branches.

"We’re not at war with the sidhe, we’re at war with the schades, and no offense to Frank but I hope to hell he’s not falling for it, they’ll turn him into a puppet! Ram their shadows up his ass till he’s so screwed he wouldn’t know the truth if it vamped the life out of him!"

I know, she nodded, her hand falling to his shoulder, tracing the graze left by the bullet Jack had fired at him yesterday.

He raised an eyebrow, watching her finger move over his skin, tentative, exploratory, exactly the same way she’d looked at Nick while he led the others into the woods to bring Lou’s love, Rose, back to safety. And now she was dead. Nick couldn’t help but wonder if he needed to carry that burden as well. After all, if he’d been just a little more careful then maybe they wouldn’t have gotten separated, and if they hadn’t gotten separated then Harry, Lou, Rose, Dylan, Wellyn and Ayeles wouldn’t have had to go up against the vestige attacking the Aine Haud without some help. He could’ve helped, he could’ve held it, given them a chance to get the others to safety. His glance flicked to Ryan, a shearing pain of loss tearing through his chest. He only knew the man because of the boy who belonged in the body he was wearing, but because of the fourteen year old Nick that belonged in this world, he loved the man almost like a father. Then there was her, she wasn’t his Mickey, but who cares? She wants me, I can feel it. The kid’s shut down so it’s not like he’s gonna care... his gaze flicked then to one of the taller silhouettes near the tree line, Ilirya, I don’t even know her, and she’s way the fuck out of my league. The kid couldn’t care less about either one of ‘em... are you done yet Harry? I got a itch to scratch, he glanced at Mickey’s full young lips, watching intensely as she pursed then licked them, then pursed them again. Drawing a deep breath he remembered the feel of her mouth on his, well, honestly on any and every part of him.

You done yet? He asked thickly, glad he was laying on his stomach.

Almost, Harry grunted tying another knot before slipping the needle through again to make the final stitch, She’s not yours Nick.

Yes I am, Mickey practically panted, her finger moving up the lean muscles of his neck and over his shoulder to his back.

"You listen to me girl, that boy is fourteen years old no matter how old he looks or which one of ‘em’s speaking through him! You may think you know Nick but you don’t know shit and if you think you can do what I can smell you’re