Traitor Read online

  Traitor (Ava Delaney #6)

  By Claire Farrell

  Edited by Lynn O’Dell

  When Ava first saved Carl from a vampire, she had no idea what would happen next. Thrust into a world of magic, secrets, and betrayal, she’s barely managed to survive. All of the choices she’s made have led her deeper into trouble, and now, a year later, it’s time to grab some control again.

  Her enemies are making allies while Ava’s struggling to keep her friends. But even as the larger battles are fought, there’s another enemy creeping underneath, ready to plant distractions and take advantage of the aftermath.

  The dark days are coming, quicker than expected. It’s time for Ava to prove herself for the last time, but her final deal will prove the most costly.

  Kindle Edition

  June 2013

  Copyright © Claire Farrell 2013

  [email protected]

  Cover art © Renu Sharma | www.thedarkrayne.com

  Licence Notes

  This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Chapter One

  Carl took one look at the photo in the newspaper and choked on his tea. His face turned purple as his laughter overcame him.

  “Get a grip.” I snapped the paper out of his hands and read the tabloid article again.

  Corruption in the Dáil!

  Who’s really in charge?

  The news that bribery convinced the Irish government to keep the supernatural world under wraps, and effectively sacrifice unsuspecting citizens to the whims of more powerful beings, continues to cause tension in the Dáil. The latest reports suggest…

  Every single article inevitably concluded with the same few paragraphs about how the truth began to spread because of me showing off my true face, and then came the photo. Always the same awful, awful photo. That nostrils-flaring, hair-frizzing, eyes-squinting, teeth-a-fanging shot of me.

  I sighed. “Why can’t they use a different picture? It’s because I scared them outside Moses’s flats that night, right?”

  “Nah,” Carl said, recovering his composure. “It’s because you won’t give sexy Garda Shay the time of day. I dropped into the post office yesterday morning to pick up the latest list of names, and—”

  “Oh, were there many?”

  “A village in Tipperary offered to hide up to thirty people, mostly supernaturals from the area who went on the run in the U.S. and want to come back to join the cause. But that’s not my point! While I was there, I had to listen to a gang of old ladies comment on Shay’s arse for twenty minutes, and then they started tutting about that stuck-up redhead who doesn’t know what’s good for her.” He grinned. “They haven’t forgiven you for not shaking his hand at the last press conference.”

  “I didn’t know I was supposed to shake his hand! I should never have been there anyway.” I frowned. “You and Esther would be much better at that kind of thing.”

  “I was joking,” he said hurriedly. “Mostly. You won’t pose for the reporters, so they have to use whatever they’ve got. Or maybe they’re being paid to be as unflattering as possible.”

  “That makes sense.” I flicked through the newspaper. It was full of stories that would have been considered fiction mere months ago. “I can’t tell if this is good news or bad news.”

  Carl shrugged. “Good news is that most of the country is ready for change. Bad news is that some people still think the entire thing is complete bull. Last time I spoke to my parents, they were convinced it was a bout of mass hysteria.” He cleared his throat; it had been a while since he spoke to his parents. “Anyway, Shay told me he’s been really popular with the independent TDs lately. There’s talk of the major parties splitting because only a select few were in the know.”

  “How could they not know?”

  “Same way Shay didn’t know, I suppose. What’s been happening is pretty disgusting. I’m glad the truth is finally out there. I just never expected our government to be involved in any of this.”

  I nodded. Irish politicians had sold out their own people for financial gain. It made me sick to think that the corruption had been on both sides of the fence and that nobody had ever stood a chance. Until now. “Eddie’s itching for a meeting. I’ve been keeping out of his way as much as possible, but we’ll all have to get together soon.”

  “Stop avoiding him. It’s cowardly.” He gestured toward the newspaper with a mischievous grin. “You’re the face of a cultural revolution. You need more of the brave.”

  “My stomach turns whenever I see him.” I wrapped my arms around my torso. “He’s so confident with Fionnuala and the werewolves out of the country. When I first made the deal with him, I figured it would be years before we’d get anywhere. The stupid BVA changed everything when they sent an army of beasts over here. Now Eddie’s talking about ringing in the new year with a new governing body.”

  “He’s just excited. Everything’s falling into place for us. The Council spent way too much time worrying about our so-called rebels when there are way more dangerous enemies everywhere else. Eddie’s not wrong about the fact that we should seize what we can while Fionnuala and the werewolves are still out of our way.”

  “We’re not ready, though. We don’t have anything remotely close to an organised army, and the fae are going to come back. You all seem to conveniently forget this. We don’t control the Guardians, and we can’t fight the werewolves. I would rather go up against Becca again than face an angry werewolf. Besides, pushing hard for anarchy feels wrong when the entire country is essentially falling apart in the worst ways. The human government will likely change before the Council does.” I lifted my shoulders into a shrug. “The plan doesn’t sit well with me.”

  “Taking on the Council? There’s no way we’re going to come out of this looking like saints, but what bothers me is how many of them are actually helping us take down their own power.”

  “They could be using us. We might have to take them all down in the end. That should bother you and me more than it does.”

  His gaze didn’t waver. “They’re monsters, Ava. In every way. They’ve hunted us down, and they won’t stop until they get us out of their way. They started the murdering; we’re defending ourselves. They’ve destroyed families and ruined lives for money and power for way too long now. But that doesn’t mean it’ll come to war. We could still reach some kind of compromise. They might see that the people want change and come to an agreement with us.”

  “And if they don’t?”

  “Then you deal with them. You won’t be alone when you stand up to them. But we have plenty more battles to fight first. It sounds easy when Eddie yaps on about it, but every step needs good timing.” He flipped through the other newspapers. “Ah, here it is. Middle page spread.” He pushed the newspaper over to me.

  He had turned up at my door early with a batch of them, the same thing he had been doing for a fortnight, ever since the British had declared themselves free of the British Vampire Association’s rule and Carl had finally cut the cords that tied him to his old life. He didn’t speak about Peter or Emmett, I didn’t mention Maria or his parents, and we got along just fine being miserable together.

  The end of the BVA’s power in Britain was a huge deal. The Irish fae, along with their trusty werewolves, had been a factor in the win against the vampires, but the humans, the people fighting for their own safety, were the ones who really changed everything. It had been the same in Ireland six weeks before when supernaturals and humans had worked together to fight off the unwanted vampire rule. Despite the final success, Britain had suffered terrible losses, and it would take a long time to undo all of the damage done to the major citie
s. Ireland had gotten off easy in comparison.

  The newspaper in front of me told the story of what Fionnuala and her son, Phoenix, had been doing for the past two weeks and how people were looking forward to the upcoming nuptials. There was an open invitation from the fae to celebrate with them at the ceremony in the summer.

  No photos adorned the pages of the newspaper, just lines upon lines gushing about the mysterious “New Royals.” In the wake of the destruction, the British press had clung to the idea of non-human royalty and the betrothal between Phoenix and some English fae princess.

  My heart sank every time I saw an article in the paper about the Irish fae because I knew we had lost our best chance of defeating Fionnuala. Lorcan’s rage about his amnesiac father’s actions had been simmering for a while.

  “Don’t show the twins today’s papers,” I said. “They might not find out.”

  Carl shook his head, still stuck in a newspaper. “They probably already know. Lucia’s been having vision after vision of Phoenix, more than she can handle.”

  “I know, but—”

  “You can’t protect everyone from everything,” he said.

  I knew that only too well.

  Carl set down the newspaper and stood. “I’m going to see if Esther and Val are ready to start. You coming?”

  “Nah, Anka and Margie are taking me to Mrs. Yaga’s solicitor to talk about her will. You take it easy. Keep pushing yourself so hard, and you’ll be back to using the walking stick.”

  As usual, Carl ignored my warnings. He, like the rest of the occupants of the cul-de-sac, had grown hard and determined. The eagerness to prepare was necessary because, although the attacks on the cul-de-sac hadn’t been as fierce since the British vampires were run out of Ireland, they kept coming.

  After raiding my fridge for a bottle of water, Carl left. I got ready to leave, changing pus-soaked bandages in silent agony. Ever since Esther’s alpha-shifter brother had tricked me into running straight into a beast attack, my injuries had refused to heal properly, despite Eddie’s help. I took my last painkiller and glanced wistfully at the empty container. I wouldn’t ask for more.

  I left the house to find Anka and passed a group sparring on the road that separated both rows of houses. Our numbers had swelled as word spread around the country that we desired change. Those in exile were returning in droves, and humans were going out of their way to learn how to defend themselves. We had outlaws hiding in the cul-de-sac and at the sanctuary. Even the brethni brothers were hiding a few unfortunate rebels in their reeking warehouse, while Moses saw fit to arm humans willing to fight with us. The underdogs would start an uprising, whether I was ready for it or not.

  Esther waved at me. I nodded at the shifter, more concerned with the group of people huddled around a tall figure at the mouth of the cul-de-sac, speaking in whispers. The rebels weren’t as content as I’d hoped, and I didn’t know what to do about that.

  Leah took a break from her archery lesson to sidle up to me. She wasn’t naturally aggressive, but I had insisted that everyone find a way to defend themselves. Not that Val would ever allow an enemy to get close enough to harm Leah. The half-hellhound took her vows of protection and guardianship seriously.

  “You okay?” Leah asked.

  I nodded, watching Esther and Val work together for a change. Despite the subtle fights for dominance, they fought well next to each other. I knew they both wondered why I was the only one who didn’t take part in the training, and I was rapidly running out of excuses, but I couldn’t let anyone know how weak I had become.

  “So I was thinking,” Leah began.

  I shook my head, knowing I was in for the same conversation we had been having all week.

  “Come on,” she said. “If you just sneak me in, I can try to figure out what kind of power they have, and then we can—”

  “You’re like a tall version of Dita,” I said. “Leah, I’m not sneaking a powerful teenage girl, who is already on the run from the Council, into a building owned by the Council. Especially not when that building is full of unpredictable kids who don’t know what the hell is happening to them.”

  “We need to know more. And they need help. Just like Emmett.”

  “I know that better than anyone. But aside from the fact that Val would destroy me, I have no intention of putting you in danger. There’s too much at stake here. I’m not risking you or anyone else. I can’t handle another death on my shoulders.” I walked away before my emotions went into overload.

  We had lost too many innocents to unknown enemies. I feared I couldn’t handle even one more.

  Rattled by Leah’s persistence, I knocked on Margie’s door. She would keep asking until I changed my mind; I just knew it.

  Anka answered the door. She already wore her coat.

  “Ready?” I asked.

  “For an age.” She tossed her head in Marge’s direction. “Been trying to hurry this one up for an hour.”

  “I’m almost ready! Just let me get my jacket,” Margie said.

  Anka stepped outside. “It won’t take long today,” she said, more to reassure herself than me.

  Margie soon followed, urging us to hurry as if we hadn’t been waiting on her. Anka had left Dita under the care of the twins. We had planned on taking Margie’s car and returning as soon as possible, but pulling away from the cul-de-sac left a chill in my chest. Bad things happened when I wasn’t there. My knee jumped incessantly.

  Anka squeezed my shoulder from the backseat. “I know you’re nervous. I am, too. But we need to respect her wishes, no matter what they were.”

  I nodded. “Worst comes to worst, we could go back to the sanctuary.”

  “You’ve been reading the newspapers again?”

  “Yep. Doesn’t look good for us. Fionnuala’s made some important friends. If we make a move against her, we had better be prepared for their wrath.”

  “You underestimate your own position,” Margie said. “The fae have been playing nice across the waters, but you’ve been working hard here, where it counts. Shay alone has been persuasive. He’s charming on camera, and that works in your favour. Carl tells me that the numbers are increasing rapidly because of the media’s aggressive reporting.”

  “She’s right,” Anka said. “The end of the human government will probably drag the Council down with it.”

  “You’re not worried at all?” I asked.

  She glanced at me with a smile. “Not yet. The British leaders are too busy dealing with the aftermath of the vampire rebellion to play Irish war games.”

  I hoped so. We needed some good luck.

  We sat in silence for most of the journey, all of us probably worrying about the same thing: what was going to happen to us. Mrs. Yaga’s will could change everything.

  Margie finally pulled up outside a small office complex. We got out of the car and looked around. There was no sign on the front door, nothing that identified the building.

  I stared up at the windows. “You sure this is the right place?”

  “It’s the address he gave me,” Anka said, looking as puzzled as I felt.

  The door opened slightly, startling all three of us. I pushed the door, a little disconcerted by the darkness of the corridor on the other side.

  A young woman stood at the end of the hallway, bathed in the only light.

  “This must be it,” Anka said, striding forward.

  “You’re here to see Mr. Breslin?” the woman asked when we reached her.

  Margie nodded. “We have an appointment.”

  The woman gestured toward the open door behind her. “Take a seat. He’ll be with you shortly.”

  We did as she asked, entering a small reception area and sitting in silence. There were no sounds of phones ringing or footsteps or anything that might have been typical for a business during normal working hours. The young woman disappeared through a second door. We waited, our collective anxiety ripening.

  A few minutes later, she reappeared. “
He’s ready for you now. It’s the door at the end.”

  She led us through the second door and around a corner. We walked down another long hallway. There were three doors, and we took the last. We entered a small room packed with shelves stuffed full of books. A large oak desk and a couple of chairs filled up the centre of the room.

  An old man greeted us, his smile warm and welcoming. He stepped carefully around the desk, looking thin and frail, but when he shook my hand, his grip was reassuringly strong. His head was bald and tanned, and his bushy white eyebrows almost hid his bright blue eyes.

  “I’m Martin Breslin,” he said. “I’ve been looking forward to this meeting. Baba Yaga told me a lot about you all. We have much in common. Please, take a seat.”

  As we sat before the desk, realisation hit me. “You’re human,” I blurted.

  His smile widened. “Did that break a rule?”

  “Sorry, I’m just surprised. I expected… never mind. How did you know our landlady?”

  “I found her when I was just a boy.” His smile waned. “When I was lost. I’ve worked for her ever since. And that’s why you’re here, I suppose.”

  I frowned, confused. “We’re here to find out what’s going to happen to our homes, and if we have to move on, how long we have to find somewhere else.”

  He nodded enthusiastically. “Of course. She warned me of the situation, and when she made her decisions, she provided for the inevitable outcome.”

  I was beginning to think he would never make sense.

  He sat heavily in his chair and laid his palms on the desk as if steadying himself.

  “Ms. Delaney, I won’t pretend to understand it all—I’m not privy to every secret—but a blood protection surrounded Baba Yaga’s properties. Of which, she had many.”

  “She was attacked in her own home. Killed in the cul-de-sac. The protection wasn’t worth much.” I couldn’t keep the bitterness out of my voice.

  He sucked on his upper teeth. “There are loopholes, you see. There’s always a loophole. Whoever wanted her dead knew exactly what they were doing and when to attack. She was protected by ancient laws. She was untouchable. That is, until she gave up her neutrality and took your side.”