Tithes (Ava Delaney Read online

  Tithes

  Ava Delaney: Lost Souls #3

  Claire Farrell

  Contents

  Introduction

  Copyright

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Also by Claire Farrell

  Introduction

  Tithes

  Ava Delaney: Lost Souls #3

  * * *

  By Claire Farrell

  Edited by Red Adept Editing

  * * *

  Ava’s been trying to help her past and her future co-exist, but when it all goes wrong, she’s barely able to take a breath when the next drama begins, and she begins to wonder about her string of bad luck.

  Tensions are already running high when evidence of slavery appears on Ava’s doorstep, quickly followed by an unwelcome blast from the past with news that forces her to rethink where her trust lies.

  The only thing Ava knows for sure is that it’s time to finish cleaning up the mess that started with Fionnuala because bad luck is catching, and everyone she cares about is affected.

  Copyright © Claire Farrell

  [email protected]

  * * *

  Cover by Yocla Designs

  * * *

  All Rights Reserved.

  Created with Vellum

  1

  Sun filtered through the curtains, highlighting the CDs on the floor. I pushed another stack toward Emmett’s piles. “You can check those, too.”

  He made a face but continued to open boxes to make sure that the right CD was inside and wasn’t irreparably scratched. “Why are we even doing this?”

  I blew dust off my hands. Most of the boxes had been stuck under the stairs since I’d moved in. “I want to sort them out before I send them over to the children’s home. I don’t need them anymore, so I might as well donate them.”

  He frowned. “But why?”

  I switched two CDs into the right boxes. For someone as OCD as I could be, I was terrible at keeping things organised or, more likely, at keeping Carl out of my stuff. “Alanii’s taste in music is so bad that I want the kids to at least have a chance to listen to something decent.” I nudged him. “I’m such a good person, right?”

  “I meant why do you not need them?” He pushed the CDs away and stared at his hands. “Don’t you like them anymore?”

  The room darkened as a cloud covered the sun, and I had the sense we weren’t really talking about CDs. “Not needing something doesn’t mean I don’t like it anymore,” I said carefully. “Anyway, these are just taking up space because I have all the songs on my computer anyway.”

  Emmett glanced at the computer, unable to keep a suspicious look from marring his features. “Everything’s so complicated. Even that thing seems like magic.”

  “Not magic. Just technology.” I shrugged. “Which makes everything seem like magic, I suppose.”

  “There’s a kid at school who can make computers do anything he likes,” he said after a moment. “Before… he wasn’t valuable because they didn’t realise what he could do. They didn’t test him with a computer, or he would have been sold. Where would he be now?”

  Before meant when he lived in a slave market. “I don’t know,” I said. “But when somebody pays a lot of money for something, they usually treat it extra carefully.” That was a lie, but there was no point dwelling on the dark possibilities. To Emmett, little could be worse than living as a slave in Hell. He didn’t need new nightmares. “I had half-forgotten you knew some of the kids already.”

  “Only a few.” He went back to work on the CDs. “We weren’t supposed to make friends, and I didn’t like most of them.”

  I thought of a certain teen witch and nodded. “I’m not surprised.”

  “At least Ari’s around,” he said brightly. “School’s not so bad with her there.”

  That floored me. “Ari? The witch? You… like her?”

  “We all love Ari,” he said, sounding surprised. “She took care of us, of me, back then. Protected us from… stuff. She still does.”

  “You must know Noah then.”

  “Oh, I hate him.” He wrinkled his nose. “I’m glad he’s not at the school.”

  Weirdly, I had the opposite reactions to that particular couple.

  A car beeped outside, and I jumped to my feet. “Here they are.”

  Emmett lingered by the coffee table. “Should I put these with the others in the hall?”

  “I’ll do it later.” I realised he wasn’t looking forward to seeing the visitors. “Hey, you’ll have fun today. It’s good to make friends, remember?”

  “But he’s so weird,” he whined.

  I bit my lip to hide my smile. “Trust me. So are we. Come on. It’s not his fault he’s different.”

  “Nobody likes the werewolves,” he complained, but he followed me to the front door. “And the fur balls hate everyone else.”

  “Give the fur ball a chance.” I shoved him outside.

  I blinked rapidly in the sudden light. Ireland was going through an unprecedented heat wave. The last thing I wanted to do was stand outside to watch three sulky kids eye each other with suspicion, but I had agreed to the weird playdate thing—I had even gone out of my way to persuade the reluctant parents—and couldn’t back out now. And maybe there was a teeny, tiny chance that I just didn’t want to disappoint Phoenix.

  The fae prince stepped out of his car and smiled at me. I grinned back, my heart skipping a little at the sight of him. Ever since he had almost died in front of me—and since he’d kissed me, too—I hadn’t been able to ignore my fondness for him. I had fed him my blood to save his life, and he hadn’t been repulsed. He was one of the few people who accepted me just the way I was, without being initially freaked out by my heritage. The warmth from that acceptance hadn’t faded.

  I glanced at Emmett and noticed he was staring at me. “What?”

  “Nothing,” he said sullenly.

  My neighbour’s preteen daughter was already skipping out of her garden to greet Phoenix and the obviously reluctant werewolf cub. The boy took a couple of steps back as Dita approached, her pale-blond hair glistening in the sunlight, and I was pretty sure that Phoenix’s hand gripping his shoulder was the only reason he didn’t run.

  Nick was maybe twelve, and in his human form, tall and scrawny. Roughly cut sandy-coloured hair curled around the nape of his neck, and his hooded green eyes made him look suspicious of everything. The young werewolf’s gaze darted in every direction as though he were expecting an attack. That wasn’t surprising. He had been shot by a drunk human nearly three months ago, so I couldn’t blame him for being skittish. And I felt sorry for him. He looked like a victim, and it sounded as though he were having a hard time in school still.

  Anka was walking slowly toward Phoenix when we reached the group, her bare arms crossed over her chest. “And this is safe,” she said, frowning at the boy.

  “They’ll be fine,” I said. “They’re just kids, Anka. Look at him.”

  She gave me a noncommittal grunt. “I’ll be inside. They can come for snacks and drinks, if they wish.” She left us al
one.

  The children stood in an awkward disconnected triangle. Dita narrowed her eyes at Emmett. When he didn’t move, she grumbled under her breath then reached out to Nick. He flinched.

  She ignored that. “We could play football.”

  I sensed rather than saw Emmett open his mouth, and for fear he was going to repeat the stupid joke about playing fetch he had cracked that morning, I clamped my hand over his mouth and lowered my mouth to his ear. “Be nice, kid.”

  He shrugged me off and folded his arms, but his glare was focused on Phoenix, who had moved to my side.

  At Dita’s beckoning command, the boys shuffled a few steps closer to her then stopped, looking stubborn.

  Phoenix stood silently by my side, his hands in his pockets and his thin lips pressed together. “What’s wrong with them?”

  “They take time to warm up.”

  Dita reached out to the werewolf and said something I missed. Nick gave Phoenix a panicked look. Phoenix nodded at him, and the boy went with the others to Dita’s front garden to play.

  “He wasn’t looking forward to this,” Phoenix said.

  “Neither was Emmett. But Dita’s been out of her mind with excitement. She reckons she hasn’t had a chance to get to know him properly at school.” I shuffled my feet in discomfort. “Because, um…”

  “He keeps shifting.”

  I winced. “It’s bad, isn’t it?”

  “There’s talk of removing him from the school.” He sighed. “But he’s the one who needs it the most.”

  “Maybe this will help.” If it didn’t, Dita was going to be really disappointed. She was absolutely dying to earn herself a werewolf friend.

  I wiped my brow then held up my hand to shield my eyes.

  “You look uncomfortable,” Phoenix remarked.

  “The sun isn’t my friend.”

  “Oh.” He looked at me with surprise. “I should have realised.”

  “I’m fine. It’s just…” I didn’t need to finish the sentence. The vampire taint in me couldn’t stand the sun. Most sunny days were a minor irritation, but the rare scorchers made me feel ill.

  He touched my bare arm, his skin somehow cool in the heat. I looked at his hand, and a shiver of anticipation shuddered through my body.

  “Let’s go inside.” His voice had lowered huskily. “The children are, as you say, warming up.”

  I blinked at him; the sun appeared to reflect against his skin. “Maybe we should…” I cast a glance at the children. Nick looked scared of his own shadow, and I couldn’t imagine anything going wrong. Besides, if he’d intended to hurt anyone, he wouldn’t have gained entry into the cul-de-sac in the first place, thanks to the old magic protecting the houses.

  “Go inside?” Phoenix offered.

  “Well…”

  Phoenix took my hand, and I shut up, following him into my house. As soon as I stepped over the threshold, he pressed me against the wall, knocking over a pile of CDs that Emmett had so carefully stacked. Phoenix and I had kissed for the first time while hunting a rare enemy, and ever since then, the kisses had been few and far between, never becoming anything more. Perhaps the lack of progress was part of the draw.

  He clasped my waist with one hand while the other reached into my hair to loosen my ponytail. I gasped when he dipped his head to kiss my collarbone, his lips pleasantly cool against my skin. I slid my hands around his shoulders and drew him to my mouth instead. Phoenix kissed me as though I were a puzzle he was trying to unravel. And I liked it.

  I forgot about everything but the calm amidst the heat. The rush made sense—akin to the way counting numbers had for so long. It seemed ridiculous that I could find tranquillity while my heart raced, my breathing deepened, and my skin felt unable to contain my body, but a certain kind of peace was there for the taking.

  His scent filled my nostrils, his fingers dug into my skin as his breaths grew shaky, and nothing was enough anymore. I pressed my body against his, signalling my willingness for more, but his kisses, while not exactly chaste, didn’t go anywhere. And I felt like a hormonal teenager again, frustrated and turned on at the same time.

  I bit on his lower lip, and his resulting hiss made me tremble. His kiss roughened, and I pushed him back.

  He gazed down at me, waiting, his green eyes predatory even when he let me take the lead. But his calm exterior had been rocked; I sensed the darkness and violence simmering under the surface. Something inside me was drawn to that, too.

  I peeled off my top, took his hand, and laid it against my heart. His calloused fingertips rough against my bare skin, he trailed his fingers across my breast. Something about the motion was teasing.

  “Phoenix.”

  He bent to touch his forehead to mine, then his lips drifted down in light kisses. He lingered at my throat before lifting me in one swift movement. He pinned me against the wall, hesitating for a moment as he held my gaze, his lips barely curving upward at the corners. Then his mouth was on mine, and we kissed until I saw a rainbow of colours behind my eyelids.

  A scream interrupted us. Again.

  He practically dropped me and ran. I scrambled to yank my top over my head then raced outside after him.

  In the middle of the road, Dita was between the boys, her hands out in a desperate attempt to stop them fighting. His cheeks deep red with his anger, Emmett pointed at Nick. Nick’s eyes had gone dead, and as I raced over, I realised his fingernails had turned to claws.

  “He’s going to shift!” I shouted.

  “Get the others out of the way,” Phoenix commanded.

  Phoenix reached Nick before I got to the others. I caught a glimpse of fur thrown to the ground, but not before a set of claws sliced Dita’s face in the tussle. She fell back into Emmett, her head smashing against his nose. I managed to stop the worst of their fall, but the scent of blood already filled the air. I breathed through my mouth—just in case.

  I changed my position to protect the pair, but Phoenix had his arms around Nick, holding him back. The boy was just a cub, but his claws and teeth were dangerous, and Phoenix struggled to hold on without hurting him.

  Anka muttered in Polish as she carried over her bag of tricks so she could tend to Dita, who was crying, and Emmett, who had gone silent. I took one look at his bloody nose and the accusing look in his hazel eyes that matched his father’s so well, and I had to turn away.

  Phoenix was forced to keep his head back to avoid being clawed in the face—that only loosened his hold on the wild cub.

  “What can I do?” I asked, needing the distraction.

  “Help me pin him.” Phoenix narrowly avoided another swipe. The boy wasn’t trying to hurt anyone, but he desperately wanted to escape. “I need to calm him, and I can’t like this.”

  With my help, we pinned Nick on the ground. I scented his fear and felt terribly sorry for him. I knelt by the boy’s head, holding down his arms. The boy raged at me, snapping with teeth that looked far too big for his mouth, but Phoenix drew his attention.

  “Peace,” Phoenix said quietly. “It’s just me, Nick.”

  But the boy’s eyes rolled, and he focused on me again. A weak, terrified snarl erupted from his lips.

  “Friend,” Phoenix said firmly. “We are all friends here, Nick.”

  Finally, the cub’s breathing eased, and he slowly calmed down enough for us to release him. But he refused to shift back into human form.

  Phoenix sat on the ground and gathered the shaking werewolf onto his lap while he whispered to him.

  I glanced over at the others. Emmett was holding a bloody hanky to his nose, his eyes still narrowed with anger. Dita had stopped crying and was allowing Anka to put pressure on her wound to assess the damage.

  “Is he all right?” Dita asked. Anka tutted next to her.

  “He’ll be fine,” Phoenix said, his hand caressing the werewolf’s ears in a soothing gesture.

  I shook my head. “What the hell happened?”

  “He’s an animal. That’s wh
at,” Emmett mumbled against the hanky.

  “You started it.” Dita pulled her mother’s hand away from her face. Four thin lines of blood sliced her cheek. One, just under her eye, was far deeper than the rest.

  “That’ll need stitches,” I said.

  “And whose fault is that?” Anka said sharply. “You said it would be safe, Ava.”

  “I—”

  I groaned as Peter Brannigan’s car drove into the cul-de-sac and stopped outside his house. He always had the worst timing. He got out of the car, took one look at the scene, and raced over to his son.

  He checked Emmett’s nose in a panic. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes,” Emmett said grudgingly. “Nick just doesn’t know how to be human.”

  “Emmett,” Dita said. “Leave him alone already.”

  “Look what he did to your face!” Emmett shouted.

  Nick whimpered.

  “He didn’t mean it,” Dita said stubbornly. “Don’t worry, Nick. I know it was an accident.”

  Anka swore in Polish. The long stream of words made me feel as though my entire bloodline was being cursed—if I had one.

  “He’s calm now,” Phoenix said.

  “Calm?” Peter said, his voice remaining level, despite the anger in his eyes. “You call this calm?”

  Nick was shaking badly. Unthinkingly, I reached out to touch him. He snapped at my hand, but I rested my fingers against his neck. “It’s okay, Nick,” I said softly. “It’s going to be okay.”

  “You’re taking his side?” Emmett sounded as though he might burst into tears. “Really?”

  “There’s no side,” I said, but Emmett and Peter both looked at me disbelievingly.

  Peter looked me up and down, his anger turning to disgust.

  I ducked my head and realised my T-shirt was inside out. I knew how I looked: dishevelled, hair messy and loose, with a face that was likely red and as guilty-looking as hell. Peter was never going to forgive me.