I don’t believe Conall is involved in the murders.” Ana Finn paced the living room floor, four steps one way, turn, and four back. Liza could almost feel the energy radiating from the woman. In contrast, her husband, Cullen, slouched in a nearby chair as though he had not a care in the world.

Marcas’s parents appeared to be a study in contrasts. She with dark hair and skin darker than Liza’s own, him with red hair and fair skin. She like a lion pacing in a cage and him kicked back and relaxed. Looking at the two of them, Liza could not help wondering where Marcas and Conall’s blond hair had originated.

“I know it sounds impossible, but everything points to just that.” Marcas leaned against the wall, arms crossed. His gaze flicked to Liza, but she was unable to read anything in it. He had made it clear already that he did not want her there. His parents had given her a warm enough welcome, though she found it difficult to discern any of these people’s true feelings.

For at least the tenth time that day, she considered running back to California and leaving this crazy place behind. Small-town murders and the strange family of an ex-boyfriend were way more than she’d bargained for. It was like being in some backwoods suspense novel and having no idea what the plot was or who any of the characters were. And then there was the really weird stuff. She felt completely out of place and still had no idea of what her connection to any of it could be.

Ana spun to face Marcas. “Conall would never do such a thing. Never. The Old Ones are sacred. He would never harm any of them.”

“I’m not sure Conall is completely himself. I told you before, something came out with him. Something of Tír na nÓg.”

“The fae don’t possess people,” Cullen said in a quiet voice lilted by a strong Irish accent.

Marcas sighed. “I don’t know exactly what I mean, Father. I only know that when I returned from California, Conall was different. No brothers are closer than the two of us, and I’m telling you he was not himself. His actions since that day continue to confirm my suspicions.”

“That wasn’t Conall I saw today,” Fallon said. “I mean, it looked like him, sort of, but his eyes were all wrong. He wasn’t in those eyes.” She wrapped her arms around herself as if the memory chilled her.

Ana Finn turned her gaze to Liza. “What is your part in this, Elizabeth McCarthy?” Her tone was soft, not threatening or accusing. “That you are a part is beyond question. Brianna’s sight has never been wrong.”

“None of us have ever gone crazy before, either,” Fallon muttered. Marcas gave his sister a disgusted look but didn’t argue the point.

Ana lowered herself to her knees in front of Liza. Her dark eyes held Liza’s own. “Marcas said that he felt drawn to you when he was in California. Did he tell you why he was there?”

Liza shook her head. “No, not really, just that he was working out some personal issues and needed to get away for a while.”

Ana glanced at her son.

“I had no idea what I was looking for,” Marcas said. “I sure didn’t think it was her. What was I supposed to tell her?”

Liza looked down at the carpet. His easy dismissal of her stung.

“And now here she is,” Ana said. “Brianna said that Elizabeth was under attack when she called. That is no coincidence.”

“Call me Liza,” Liza said automatically.

Ana smiled up at her from her place on the floor. “You don’t like your name?”

Liza blushed. She didn’t like the way the conversation centered on her. “My mom is the only one who calls me Elizabeth. She thinks it sounds better than bastard.” She felt her blush deepen. She hadn’t meant to say that last part.

Ana’s face softened. “Liza it is, then. Tell me, when you first met Marcas, what did you feel?”

“I don’t remember feeling anything, really. He was behind me at the coffee shop and offered to pay for my drink. If I felt anything, it was probably frustration. No, that’s not right. I was angry, more than I should have been under the circumstances.”

Marcas laughed. “You told me you were perfectly capable of getting your own coffee, thank you very much.”

Liza had forgotten how much she liked his laugh. “And you gave me that same laugh. I don’t know why, but I felt threatened by it.”

“So, you did feel something,” Ana said. “Marcas was drawn to you, and you were repulsed by him.”

“Mom!”

Liza smiled up at Marcas. “Well, repulsed might be a bit strong of a word. Agitated is more like it.”

“Interesting.” Ana turned to her son. “Why don’t you show Liza around the farm and tell her why you were really in Los Angeles? You might as well fill her in on what you think happened to Conall as well.”

“Do you think that’s a good idea?” Marcas asked.

“Like it or not, Liza is somehow involved in this, and she deserves to know what she has gotten herself into.” She rose in one fluid motion and held a hand out to her husband. Cullen took it without a word, and the two left the room.

• • • • • • •

Liza took a deep breath of the clean country air. Having spent almost every moment of her life in Los Angeles, she found the scent intoxicating.

Everywhere she looked, there was life. The trees and grass were so many shades of green as to dazzle the senses. The sky was a rich blue dotted with cotton-ball clouds. There were no farm animals that she could see, but she heard a dog bark not far away. A moment later, a white-and-tan streak bounded around the corner, and Liza moved behind Marcas as a large pit bull raced toward them. She grabbed Marcas’s arm as the dog slid to a stop and leapt up with its paws on Marcas’s chest.

“Hey there, Huck,” Marcas said as he grabbed the dog by its huge head. Huck’s tongue lolled out one side of his mouth while drool dripped from his jowl on the other side. Marcas gave the dog a rough scratching behind the ears before shoving him away. Huck danced around them, his raw energy making Liza nervous.

“Don’t worry, Huck won’t hurt you. He’s a sweetie.”

“He’s a pit bull,” Liza said. “And I hate dogs. What kind of name is Huck, anyway?”

“Well, our last name is Finn, and we live in Missouri. It seemed appropriate.”

It took Liza a moment to make the connection. “Oh yeah, Huck Finn. I get it.”

Huck barked at them before plunging into the high grass of the field behind the house. Winged grasshoppers swarmed up around the dog’s path before disappearing into the grass once again.

“He likes you,” Marcas said.

“Oh? How can you tell?”

“He told me so.”

“Really? Now you talk to dogs? This keeps getting weirder.”

Liza took in the scene around her. Forest surrounded the field on three sides. A small pond was nestled at the edge of the trees. She kept pace with Marcas as he followed the dog into the field. The grass was waist-high. More of the grasshoppers fled before them, springing up with flashing wings only to land a few yards away. The large bugs made her wonder what else might be lurking in the sea of grass. For the second time that day, Liza found herself wishing she’d dressed more appropriately for rural life.

“So, what did happen to your brother?”

Marcas took a moment to answer. “To understand what happened to him, you have to understand us—my family, I mean.”

They came to the edge of the pond. Marcas gazed out over the water. “We aren’t exactly your normal family, as I’m sure you’ve discovered. A long time ago, our ancestors were involved in something rather world changing. As a result, we were assigned a task that has been passed down from generation to generation.”

“Sounds important.”

Marcas smiled. “Yeah, you could say that. You won’t believe me if I tell you, though.”

“Try me. I’m pretty open to weird stuff.”

“Okay. Ever hear of Tír na nÓg?”

“Nope, at least not until you mentioned it inside.”

“Tír na nÓg is the ancient name for the land of the fae, or fairy as they’re better known.”

Liza turned to face him. The breeze blew her hair in her face, and she shook it away. “Fairy? As in little people that fly around?”

He laughed, but there was little mirth in it. “That’s how most people think of them. Wings, leprechauns, sirens . . . that sort of thing.” He saw the skepticism on her face. “See, I told you that you wouldn’t believe me. But it doesn’t matter if you believe or not. The fae are real. Not like the legends, though.”

Liza could see the pain in his face. “Let’s say I do believe you. What did your ancestors do?”

“In the beginning, the fae had their own world, a world that touched ours but was separate. They wanted more, though.” He chuckled. “Isn’t that the way it always is? Anyway, their evil seeped into our world. It drew people to it who sought power. Keep in mind, this was thousands of years ago. They found a place in Ireland where they could come through. Ancient people from all over could feel their power. Most ignored it. Unfortunately, there have always been those who are drawn to its power.

“Anyway, a lot of the details have been lost over the centuries. My ancestors came up with a magic of their own that sent the fae back to their world and kept them contained. The problem was that their presence lingered in what we now call the Mist. The Mist is a remnant of Tír na nÓg on our side that contains enough power to cause some major trouble. It’s also a very dangerous place. It has to be guarded at all times.”

“So, what are you saying? Your family is now the guardian of this Tír na nÓg?”

“It’s more complicated than that but, basically, yeah.”

“Wouldn’t you have to be in Ireland to do that?”

“It isn’t in Ireland anymore. Remember, Tír na nÓg is not a part of our world. It has no exact location here. What we can control is how and where it connects with our world. Where the remnant of the Mist is.”

“Okay, and just where is this fairy land?”

Marcas waved his arm toward the surrounding forest. “You’re looking at it. Well, not exactly at it, but close enough. Humans can’t see it. Some can feel it. The power draws them to it. Only Conall and I can physically go in, and even then, only together. That’s our purpose. To go in and rescue those who make it that far.” He stared out at the wall of trees. “Only together. Never alone.”

Liza heard the sadness in his voice. “What happened?”

“Conall went in without me, when I was out in California. That’s why I had to leave so abruptly.” Marcas looked away from the forest and turned to Liza. “No one knows why he went in, but they all agree that he was different when he came out. When we go in together, the fae can’t bother us. We know they’re there, sometimes even catch glimpses of them, but they can’t harm us.

“Mom says that Conall was moody and not himself. They knew something had happened. It was Conall who told them what he’d done when he started talking about the Prince. Then he disappeared. I knew he went back in, and I tried to find him.

“Being alone in the Mist was much different than being there with Conall. I could feel their eyes on me and knew that I was no longer protected. I’ve never felt so exposed, so terrified. I’m pretty sure they could sense my fear. I was lost and could feel the fae closing in, hear their whispers and taunts, feel them grabbing at me. I knew panic meant death, but that was what was happening. I ran. Next thing I knew, I was out. I’d fled and left Conall behind.”

Never before had Liza felt another’s emotions as she did then. Her heart pounded with Marcas’s fear and self-loathing.

“I’ve run across him twice since then. Actually, three counting today. That isn’t Conall. I mean, it is him, but not really. He brought something out of there with him, something that controls him. I’m afraid it’s driving him insane.”

He was about to say more when Fallon’s voice called out. “Marcas, Liza, get back up here.”

They turned toward the house. “What’s up?” Marcas yelled back.

“Brianna needs us. She says it’s a matter of life and death.”

“Oh yeah, whose?” Marcas asked.

“Ours,” Fallon replied before turning and disappearing back into the house.