I gripped the handle of my knife and leaned on the counter. Where had the blade come from? I shook my head and looked around the bathroom. There were spatters of blood and shards of mirror all over the counter and the floor. I didn’t care. Ashling was alive, there was no doubt in me now, and that knowledge fuelled me for the next hour while I cleaned the bathroom. The mirror went into the wastebasket; I would have to pay for that no doubt. I held up the dark green, slimy appendages. “What the hell am I supposed to do with these?” I muttered.

I found a black plastic bag under the sink, and I slipped the arms into it, grimacing each time I had to touch them. Disgusting. I stuffed the bag into the back of the closet. I would have to get them out at some point, but all I wanted right then was to shower and go to bed. I was beyond exhausted.

As the water sluiced over me I went over the next few steps in my mind. The monster in the water—the Fomorii that had grabbed me—what had it said?

“Can you hear me little Tuatha? I wonder if you know me deep in your soul? We are coming for you.”

Wringing my hair out, I quickly braided it; the tip ended in the middle of my back. Bres and Luke were Tuatha and they said I was too. Which meant that Ashling was as well; that would explain why Luke was so sure they would kill her. She was their enemy, as was I. Slipping into an oversized t-shirt and a pair of shorts, I curled up in the bed. My eyelids drooped and I struggled to stay awake. Though my heart and spirit were willing, my body was done in by the day’s events. I would be no good to Ashling if I was stumbling around sleep deprived.

Tomorrow I would start hunting for a way through the Barrier.

~~

9

I woke in the middle of the night, the moon shining on the water and reflecting in through my windows. A tingle of awareness tickled along the edge of my skin. A soft intake of breath was all I heard before a body glided forward in the moonlit night.

I sat up and scrambled away from the figure, my mind still foggy with sleep.

“Get out of here!” I yelled, an image of the Fomorii coming for his lopped off appendages filling my mind. Damn, where was my knife? It slid into my hand as if beckoned, and I gripped the handle, not even questioning the how of it.

The lights flicked on, though they were muted as if the power was low. A tall figure stood at the foot of my bed, a dark cape shrouding him from head to foot. I caught the flash of his violet tinged eyes as he tipped his head.