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banshee. He had led so many of them to differing depths of the Underworld, and still, as he looked upon the creature, he was reminded of the cruelty that had led so many of them to his domain. They were truly frightening.
    The banshee’s alabaster skin lay over a sharp, skeletal face, and her deep, sunken eyes studied him with an almost curious tinge. Sharp teeth snapped together as she curled her lips and bit against the air. Her head fell back, and a piercing scream rent the night as she called out into the darkness.
    He closed his eye as the call brought in the other creatures residing in the forest behind him. The trees came to life with the wails of the souls trapped there. They weren’t all banshees. There were the calls of so many different Fae who had lost their way in life, and found themselves punished in death—sentenced to this place by he and his brothers—and now all he could do was hope for mercy from the merciless. It was poetic in a way, and quite clever of his brothers.
    With the release of a breath, he prepared for what this level held for him. He bit back a cry of agony as sharp teeth pierced and slid down his side, slicing his tender flesh and muscle.
     
    ****
    Samira braced herself against the wall with one hand as her other flew to her side, and she screamed. It took all she had to keep standing as searing pain glided down her ribs from just below her breast to her hip.
    Izzy ran to her. Grasping her elbow, she led Samira to the settee, where she helped her to her side and laid her down. “What happened?” Worry laced Izzy’s tone.
    “It’s Makyle again.” Samira shuddered the words through the pain. When she lifted her palm from her side, red liquid stained her skin and bled through her white top.
    “Son of a bitch,” Izzy growled as she pulled Samira’s top away from the wound. Five deep slashes ran along her pale skin. Izzy would have thought they were claw marks, but the shape seemed off. “What did this?” she asked, as she held her palms above the wound and began the healing process. Her eyes glowed bright blue, and she chanted softly.
    “Banshee,” Lothar said from behind them. Izzy’s head swung to see Lothar with a concerned look on his face.
    “You sensed her pain?” Izzy asked, as Samira’s skin fully knitted back together. Izzy pulled the fabric back over Samira’s freshly healed wound.
    Spoken with concern. “It’s manifesting while you’re awake now.” Lothar stated.
    Samira wiped the salty tears that blurred her vision and nodded. “This is the first time it’s happened like this.”
    She didn’t want to be weak, but fear was clinging to her soul and grasping at her heart. The thing about it was, she couldn’t wrap her mind around how much of the fear and pain was solely for herself, and how much of it was for Makyle.
    Lothar came and sat next to Samira. He could feel her confusion, and the pain the link was causing. He frowned at Izzy. “We have to hurry. And you and Bain need to talk… one healer needs to stay behind.”
    Izzy’s gaze bounced from Lothar to Samira and back to him. He was right; if it was manifesting while she was awake, there was no way they could leave her without a healer close by. “Has Holly gotten any closer to mastering healing?”
    Lothar shook his head. “Not really. She hasn’t had the opportunity to practice.”
    Izzy nodded. “I’m going to see what we can do in terms of a spell…” She smiled pleadingly at him. “Perhaps you could speak with Bain?”
    Lothar chuckled. “You’d do that to me?”
    Izzy grinned. “Come on, Lothar, it’s just little ole Bain.”
    Lothar shook his head. “Don’t let him hear you call him little.”
    Izzy arched a brow.
    “I’ll speak with him, but I would suggest you see if there is something you can do to block the physical manifestation of their link while you come up with a spell to link the two of you… There is pretty much no chance Bain will let you go without him.”
    Izzy