The Rebel Seer

Outlaw, A Thieves Series Book 4

About the book

From New York Times and USA Today bestseller Lexi Blake comes a new novel in her Thieves world…

Shahidi Davis’s world exploded the night Myrddin took over the supernatural world. The child of powerful psychics, Shy was the only member of her family to escape the death the wizard delivered that night. Unfortunately, death still came calling when her power manifested itself. Her first encounter with a ghost earns her a trip to a mental ward. Guided by a very dead Harry Wharton, she begins to come to terms with her abilities. Her gifts lead her to the rebel army where she finds a new family and Rhys Donovan-Quinn. Overflowing with life, he is the perfect balance for a woman mired in so much death.

Zoey Donovan-Quinn needs to find her friends. The Day family is crucial to the war effort against the man who cost her twelve years with her children. More importantly, she loves Sarah, Felix, and Mia. They fled the plane to escape Myrddin, but the doorway Sarah opened was destroyed. Zoey thinks she’ll find another way to reach them on the Faery plane. And she can take this time to connect with Shy, who she’s certain will be her daughter-in-law someday.

But things are not all right in Faery. Zoey, Dev, and Daniel find the royal palace in chaos, while Shy and Rhys get drawn into a problem that could change the plane forever.

Now available for pre-order!

Excerpt

Chapter One

Shy

I remember when I saw my first ghost. I call her the Drowning Woman. It was one year after my entire family was murdered by Myrddin’s witches. I’m fairly certain he didn’t do the deed himself. He was busy killing vampires at the time. A group of psychics would be easy to kill as long as he found a way to dampen their powers of prophecy. It was my auntie who saw into the future. It’s funny the things you remember years later. She’d been sick for weeks. It’s how I know the whole idea that Myrddin simply took advantage of the mistakes the queen and king made is false. He might have not planned for the king to fall into his trapped painting, but he intended to take over. Why else would he have cursed the only woman in the world who might have been able to see his plans?

Up until that moment, I had not a hint of power. My cousins manifested early. So did my sister. I worried I was going to be the only Davis without power.

And then I was simply the only Davis.

I should have died with them. We lived in this rambling old house in the woods. We were close enough that we could get to Dallas within an hour, but far enough out that it felt like the country. I miss the house with its sounds and smells and rich laughter coming from every room. When I close my eyes, I’m there, surrounded by obnoxious siblings and cousins. By wise aunts and uncles, and my parents who loved me. I can still smell my mother’s cooking. She used to say her caramel cake recipe came from a famous and very dead pastry chef she met in her travels.

The Davis family was known throughout the supernatural world for our mental and spiritual gifts. My father could move heavy objects with nothing more than a thought. I had uncles who could astral project across the planet. They worked for some scary men from time to time. One aunt could hear sounds from other planes of existence. She described it as a radio playing in her head. I always thought that would be weird, but she enjoyed it since apparently the people who lived in our house on the other plane were extremely dramatic.

My mother was a medium. She could see and speak to the dead. It’s not like what you see on television. At least not some programs. She didn’t need a séance or to hold something the dearly departed once owned. That’s called psychometry, and you do not want it. My cousin thought she was picking up a hunting knife once and spent two hours screaming because it belonged to a serial killer.

“You’ll find your power, Shy,” my mother would always say.

She didn’t tell me my power would lead me to a mental institution.

She certainly didn’t tell me the first ghost I would ever see would be the most terrifying vision, nor that she would still be hanging around so many years later.

“She’s back.” Josie Albertson stands to my left, her hands on her hips as she watches the Drowning Woman from a distance. “I wonder what she wants. You ever talk to her? Anytime I try to get close, she disappears.”

I can see her out of the corner of my eye even as I stand in the garden of the home I share with Lily Tucker and Hannah Jenkins. I love a good garden, and no one takes a garden quite as seriously as a witch. I stand among the herbs and flowers and vegetables they’ve spent half a year growing, and in the background, I see ghosts.

I turn to Josie, who is a fairly recent addition to the dead of Frelsi. Not that there are many. We’re a community of supernatural creatures and located in an isolated part of the world. Josie showed up a few months before, having fallen into a crevice while attempting to climb the mountain we live in. She presents as most ghosts do, with some form of how she died printed on her body. In her case, her left side is always stained with blood, and her left arm bends at an odd angle. She’s got a really nasty knot on her head. Other than that, she could be any sarcastic tourist who happened to die, find herself in a supernatural world, and freak out.

When I first saw her, I calmed her down, asked her the salient questions. There are a few when dealing with the dead. Do you see a light being the most important. Josie was adamant. Yes, it was there, but she wasn’t going through. I explained about how every soul has a limited amount of time to complete the whole death journey before things go sideways. She was cool with it, and we’ve been hanging ever since.

“No,” I admit and kneel down to start harvesting the mugwort Lily told me is needed for the spell of protection she intends to work before we leave this place. “She’s the oddest spirit I’ve ever seen, and when she gets close, it’s hard to look at her. I can’t see her face through the water. I know she’s not the scariest-looking being I’ve ever come up against, but I fear her more than all the rest of you combined.”

Josie huffs. “I don’t know. That dead thing freaks me out.” Her head tilts as she watches the Drowning Woman, whose limbs move in and out, every finger dripping with blood.

I wonder if she can follow me to Faery. I’ve never been off plane before. Until I came here to Frelsi, the only thing I knew about other planes of existence was that someone named Jill was cheating on her husband, Lewis, and it was only a matter of time until he found out, and my aunt was pretty sure they had a prenup.

Like I said before, my childhood was weird and wonderful at first, and then a horror movie.

And now…now I wonder if I am walking into a romance. I wonder if I am finally ready for it.

“See, that kind of freaks me out, too,” Josie says.

I nearly start when I feel something on my cheek. And then the smell hits me. Roses.

“But he sure doesn’t.” Josie smiles and smooths back her hair like she’s trying to make a good impression on a man who cannot see her.

I close my eyes and let the silky petals caress my skin, let them give me the strokes and kisses I haven’t been able to take from the man who controls them.

Rhys Donovan-Quinn. My love. My problem. Probably my downfall.

“I thought I would find you out here,” his deep voice says.

I open my eyes and the rose is staring at me. It grows from its home bush and vibrates like a happy puppy. I can’t hold back a smile. Rhys is a Green Man. He’s always been, but when we were younger he couldn’t control plants the way he can since his ascension. We call him a Green Man, but since a day he spent with his mother a few weeks back, he’s become a god.

“Lily needs some herbs for her spell,” I tell him as I stand back up. The rose is still playing around me.

“See, he couldn’t do that a couple of weeks ago.” Josie moves in, getting close to Rhys. “All us dead folk are talking about how the energy feels off when this hottie is around. What did you say he is? He was a Green Man and now he’s what?”

“First off, respect his space,” I tell her.

Rhys’s eyes go wide, and he gets that slight smile that takes over whenever he realizes I’m using my power. “Not alone?”

I shake my head. “It’s Josie, and she thinks you’re hot. She also has questions.” I turn back to her. “He’s an elemental, if you want to get technical. There are beings that take on aspects of the seasons or elements. It happens almost exclusively with Fae, but some demons have been known to have the power as well. I heard Kelsey once tangled with a winter elemental.”

Rhys looks to where I turned, always the polite man even when it comes to the dead. “Yes, Trent says it was a close thing, and naturally my brother, Lee, was the reason Kelsey had to risk her life. I love my brother, but he’s an asshole sometimes. And if Josie would like the religious term for what I have become, it’s Walking Spring.”

Yes, I heard the term before. He is life, and I feel so mired in death.

I turn to look at him, and the proof of the differences in our circumstances stands roughly fifty feet away, a watery figure near the spruce. The wave shifts and mirrors the world around it before showing ghastly limbs. I look at that water and know I can drown in it. One drop and I would be caught.

Rhys stops, and his handsome face goes serious. “She’s here?”

I must have winced. I try not to do it, but it’s impossible. Rhys knows about the Drowning Woman. Once when we were much younger, she screamed in my face, her illusion of cold water turning my skin clammy. We were planning on going into Reykjavík for supplies, but I ruined the trip because I couldn’t stop crying. I had to tell them what only Harry and I knew.

Harry. I miss Harry. I’m still mourning him.

I wish it was Harry standing next to that tree, but he’s moved on. He’s happy now. For so many years he shared a space in my soul, and now he’s gone and I feel a bit empty.

And a whole lot…excited. Tempted. Aroused. Because now that Harry’s gone, there’s zero reason for me not to take Rhys up on everything he’s willing to offer me.

Everything except forever.

“She’s keeping her distance,” I tell him and lean my cheek slightly against the rose he controls. I frown at Josie, who is way too close to Rhys. “As we all should.”

Josie frowns my way but moves back. “I’m sorry. He’s really pretty, and his brother isn’t here so I don’t have porn to watch.”

My jaw drops. “You can’t do that. Josie, that is private. You can’t watch Lee when he’s…”

Rhys laughs and looks genuinely amused. “Does Lee have a ghost peeping Tom? Don’t worry about it. It’s not private for my brother. He would say the more the merrier.”

Josie points his way and smiles so I can see she broke three of her teeth in the fall that ended her life. “See, sensible man. I wish I met faeries before I died. And the vamps. Who would ever want to leave this place? Not me.”

This is her attitude. She says it with a hint of arrogance, but I know there’s fear underlying her refusal to leave. “You’ll end up stuck here for all of time if you aren’t careful. Like that one. She might not be bothering me right now, but she’s rarely not around. Does she look like she’s having fun?”

“Ah, the should I stay or should I go now discussion. You should listen to her, Josie. She knows what she’s talking about. If you were Fae, I would be worried you’ll turn sluagh, and that is not pretty.” Rhys Donovan-Quinn is six and a half feet tall, with dark as midnight hair and the greenest eyes I’ve ever seen. Those eyes draw me in every time. They shift with the light or his mood. Sometimes they’re emeralds. Other times I see the evergreen of the forest there. Sometimes they’re almost hazel, warm with gold tones. He’s got a foot on me, and when he stares down at me, my stupid heart flutters. My heart doesn’t care that I’m not in his league.

Josie sighs. “Tell me again why you haven’t hopped into bed with him? He’s so hot, and unlike his brother, he seems ready to settle down.”

I do not need to have this conversation right now. “Are you sure you don’t want to walk into the light?”

There are so many reasons I haven’t jumped all over that man. He’s a prince of two realms. He’s the son of the King of All Vampire—though right now his father doesn’t wear the crown. And he’s the son of the High Priest of Faery. Both the Seelie and the Unseelie recognize his father and Rhys as fertility gods.

I’m an orphan who’s one skill in the world is to see and talk to the dead. I don’t think that will help us much in the war that is coming. Although sometimes the dead are bitter and willing to give up some secrets. I tried to convince Sasha to let me hang around the Council building and see who talks to me, but Rhys lost his shit.

Josie’s head shakes. “I don’t know what’s in that light. You don’t know. Sure they say it’s all warmth and sunshine, but I’m more of a shadows girl. I want to hang around until I figure out if that vampire is going to get his fangs in Lily. He’s trying hard.”

I look to Rhys. “She’s literally risking her eternal soul because she likes gossip.”

“We do pretty good gossip here,” he says, his hand coming up to cup my other cheek. “Did you hear that Benedict has been leaving Lily flowers? Night blooms, of course, since he’s dead during the day. I’ve also heard there’s a small war going on with the gnomes. Colin hid Fergus’s hat, and now they are pranking each other like mad. No one pranks like a gnome.”

“See, all good reasons to not risk that light.” Josie takes a seat on the bench in the pretty gazebo Rhys and Lee built for us a few years back.

“She’s hopeless,” I tell Rhys and my eyes stray back to that horrifying slash of water that disturbs the peace of my space.

Rhys’s hand tilts my head up, gently bringing my focus back on him. “Do you think you’ll get a break in Faery? Can souls follow you off plane? What if we get to Faery and it’s all quiet. Wouldn’t that be nice?”

“Somehow I doubt it.” I wish I didn’t feel so warm when I’m with him, so deeply connected to a man I cannot have. “You know I see dead of all kinds, and I bet there are many on the Faery plane.”

A brow rises. “Yes, I suppose so. Was it easier when it was all humans? At least you might have understood humans.”

I have to laugh at the thought. Everyone thinks they know what it would be like to see the dead. It’s scary until you get used to it. Except you never get used to it. “It was never all human. I was in a foster home and there was a dead dog who haunted the backyard. He was still tied up in the heat. His body was gone but his soul never stopped being tortured. That dog terrified me. Then I went to the hospital, and let me tell you, you don’t get more haunted than a psych ward. I was in the hospital until Harry taught me how to manipulate the system. You know adulting is a lot easier with an old Irish guy in your head.”

Rhys groans and then pulls me close, his arms going around me as the rose shrinks back to its place. “You’re missing my grandfather. I do, too. Even though he spoke through you the last couple of years, it was like we had him around. So are supernatural dead creatures worse?”

I breathe him in. I love the way this man smells, how warm I am with his arms around me. “I wouldn’t say worse. Though there aren’t many. A lot of them are immortal or hard to kill, or they simply walk into the light with more ease than some humans. There’s a small troll who strolls the streets here from time to time. No idea why. He’s never approached me. I saw a witch in the bookstore in Reykjavík a few months ago. She’s waiting for her sister so they can go through together. Her sister’s ninety-two but still going strong, so she hangs in the bookstore and judges people’s purchases. She is very judgey about crystals. Told me the amethyst I was about to buy was a piece of crap.”

He smiles, an expression that can light up the darkest night. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Because I don’t like to talk about the things I see with him. I talk to his sister, Evan. She’s become my closest friend. I talk to Lily and some of the witches. I’ve talked about it with Sasha and Trent, but only when I’ve learned something that could possibly help in the war effort.

I don’t like to remind my sunshine god of an almost lover that I live in the shadows.

“You were off plane when I met the witch. I think you were meeting with someone on one of the alternative planes. You got back and then you saw that little pig and started planning your own mission to retrieve your parents. You know the one you didn’t tell me about. You avoided me for weeks, so I didn’t mention my new dead friend.”

“I wasn’t avoiding you. I was avoiding my grandfather. I couldn’t be sure he wouldn’t decide it was too dangerous and get Trent and Sasha involved. We didn’t tell anyone,” he says softly. “Not even Uncle Neil.”

“Well, Uncle Neil can’t keep a secret to save his life, but we both know I can.” I keep so many of them. I understand why they didn’t let me in on the plan to rescue their parents. They fell through a trapped painting and ended up on another plane. Even when they found their way back, they were stuck in stasis for twelve years. What seemed like a few days for the royals and Kelsey Owens was in reality years. From the moment I was allowed inside this rebel encampment, the witches of the group were trying to find a way to contact their lost leaders. After a lot of chanting and manifesting and taking some really good-looking drugs/religious herbs, they came to the conclusion that the royals would return to the place from whence they left on one of four dates. While Sasha and Trent decided to focus all their energy on one date, Rhys had an encounter with Arkan Sonney and decided to change plans.

There are still omens and prophecies and wee creatures that bring both. You simply have to have your eyes focused in the right way to see them.

Rhys’s fingertips brush along my jaw. “Are you still angry about it? You should know I won’t ever keep anything from you again. Now that you’re…”

“Alone.” I step back because I feel it again. Harry chose to leave after seeing his daughter safely returned. He said it’s time for me to be on my own, that I’m strong enough now. That’s what I told everyone.

What he actually said to me in the quiet of our shared soul was something more.

You were always strong enough, Shy. You never really needed me, but oh how I needed you. You are more than you think you are, but I can’t tell you. You have to discover it for yourself. Remember this. Death is a doorway not an end. It’s one more step on the path we all take, and you help them along. One day you’ll understand the gift you are to this world and the next.

The words are imprinted on me, though I think he was being optimistic.

I only know I miss him. I mourn him.

Rhys goes still. “I’m sorry. You know I miss my grandfather, too. But there is a part of me that is relieved to finally have you to myself.” He takes a long breath and steps back as well, the space between us plain. “However, maybe we should rethink the trip to Faery. My parents can handle the situation.”

“Oh, he’s getting antsy,” Josie says, crossing one leg over the other as though settling in for the show. “His magic pours off him when he’s anxious. It’s green and blue and yellow. So pretty.”

I know I should think about her words, but I’m caught on his. It’s my turn to stare at him. “I’m not going to Faery? You want to go without me?”

We’ve been preparing for the trip for days. Ever since the queen realized it might be her only chance to find her friend Sarah Day, and Sarah’s husband and daughter. Sarah is a powerful witch, so powerful she managed to evade Myrddin’s slaughter and take her family off plane. She also apparently left a way for the queen to find her. Except the queen blew up the Council House and that doorway with it. So Faery it is.

I’m supposed to go, but it seems Rhys changed his mind. Likely because I didn’t sleep with him yet and he knows the pleasures that await him in Faery.

The idea makes me ache despite the nagging voice in my head that says he’s right and I should think about taking a break from him. Time moves differently on the Faery planes, and he’ll be gone far longer in Earth plane time than he’ll experience. If it takes them three weeks to complete the mission, at least three months will have passed here. By the time he returns we’ll have moved from Frelsi to our summertime home in New Zealand. We call it chasing the night. During the winter we’re here in Iceland, and then when the days grow longer, we move so the vampires among us have more time awake.

He frowns my way, and I swear the grass is growing beneath my feet. I can feel it tickling my ankles. “No. I meant I won’t go. Shahidi, I’ve told you before. You are my goddess. I knew it the moment I saw you, and I’m willing to wait until you’re ready. Unless you’re ready to tell me once and for all you don’t want me.”

“Oh, this is down bad stuff. What are you doing to this man, Shy?” Josie asks.

I ignore her. Don’t want him? I dream about Rhys at night. He’s in my good dreams. He’s in my bad dreams. He’s in all of them because somehow Rhys has become the touchstone of my life, and I can’t imagine it without him. I thought we might have a shot, but then he ascended in a way no one could have expected. He must marry someone of royal blood. Or someone Fae, who can unite the rebels with the Seelie and the Unseelie and help win this war.

I knew the moment the King of All Vampire returned my time with Rhys would be limited.

“Is that what you’re saying, Shy?” Rhys asks the question in a quiet tone but the grass is halfway up my calves, and I see his hand tremble. “Are you saying you don’t want me?”

“Uh, Shy,” Josie begins, “those pretty colors are taking on a dark edge.”

Control. Since his ascension he’s always on the edge of losing control. His magic is starting to go wild, and that can be dangerous for all of us.

“Son, what’s happening?”

“Papa’s here so we know it must be bad,” Josie announces. “Damn, that man is fine.”

I turn slightly and see Devinshea Quinn standing at the edge of the garden. He looks so much like his son they could be brothers, but then His Grace is locked in his youth by the blood he shares with his partner, Daniel. He looks worried, and he frowns as he stares out over the garden. Which is blooming like mad weeks before it should. Rhys planned to come through and do this in a controlled way so we would have a harvest before changing camps. Those planned “grows,” as we call them, are focused. This unintentional one goes wild, and I can see clearly the grass and weeds aren’t limited to this one place. They are everywhere.

Rhys takes a long breath, and his fists clench and unclench. “Nothing. We’re fine. We’ve just changed our minds about going to Faery.”

“Rhys, you have to go,” his father says in an even tone. He stands there perfectly paternal, like Rhys is still a child in his mind. Which he likely is since it was only days ago for His Grace that Rhys was eleven. “I know they haven’t treated you with the respect they should have. We’ll deal with it.”

Rhys’s jawline tightens. “I don’t care about the Fae. I’m not going because Shy wants to stay here. Unless she tells me she doesn’t want me, I will stay with my goddess. I will not leave her unprotected and alone.”

The blueberry bush to my left kind of explodes, and I hear His Grace curse under his breath. I can’t see Rhys’s magic the way Josie claims she can, but I can feel it, and it’s got a desperate edge to it.

“Rhys, I need you to be reasonable.” His father takes a cautious step forward. “You’re emotional right now, and we both know why. But you’re spilling magic out like a waterfall.”

“And here’s Dad. This family, I cannot tell you how much I enjoy them. They are the best TV show ever,” Josie says as the vampire flies in. “But you need to handle this, Shy, because while I enjoy watching those two, I don’t want to see them die because that wizard person tracks you down through faery magic. I can see it spreading all over. I hope the goats are hungry because…that’s a lot of grass.”

There’s a slight shake to the ground and the King of All Vampire lands beside his partner. Daniel and Dev might share their wife, but they share each other, too. Donovan is a strongly built man with sandy blond hair, blue eyes, and dimples when he smiles. Those dimples look sweet, but he is the ultimate predator in our world. “Rhys, the witches are worried. Myrddin has spies in the country, and they’re looking for Fae magic.”

I can see Rhys trying. He’s trying so hard to control himself, but he can’t control his magic the way he should. The way a Green Man would.

And I’m the reason.

He’s a Green Man. A twenty-three-year-old Green Man. As a class of beings go, they tend to rank high on the promiscuous scale. He’s an actual sex god.

A virgin sex god. Because he thinks I’m his goddess and has refused to take a lover despite them all being paraded in front of him whenever his uncle Declan manages to get some time with him.

His father was shocked at the state of his sexual purity and horrified at what it might mean now that he has all the power of a season at his fingertips.

I move into his space since that distance between us is absolutely contributing to his control issues. I put both hands on his cheeks and look into those glorious green eyes of his. Right now there’s a light in them that’s almost wild. I can’t stand the thought of him losing the control he’s fought so hard to gain. Like me, he was left to fend for himself when it came to his powers. Oh, he had parental figures, but the one who could truly understand his power was taken from him. “I would never say that, Rhys. I’m nervous about going. I’m nervous I’ll cause trouble for you, but if you want me to go, I’ll go.”

“Trouble? You won’t cause trouble.” A root breaks through the surface of the earth, popping up like a sea creature rising. “If they do, I swear…”

“Shy, he might need more than words. He’s on edge and has been for days.” Dev starts to move toward us, but the king stops him.

More than words. Well, it isn’t like I don’t enjoy what he needs. I go on my toes and brush my lips against his. “I’ll go with you,” I whisper.

Then his hands are on my waist and the nape of my neck, holding me in place while he kisses me like I’m the last woman on earth. I can feel a wave of heat roll across my skin. It comes from him. That wave is seduction and affection and need. The need of a god for his goddess.

Unfortunately, I am no goddess.

Still, I let him kiss me, let the intimacy of his mouth against mine cocoon us in a place that feels warm and infinitely safe. Our space. If only we never had to leave it.

“Shy, uhm, I hate to tell you this but the whole kissing thing is revving the Green Man up,” Josie says. “Not that I mind. You know one of the fun parts about being dead is the wide and never-ending opportunities for voyeurism, but I’m hearing some panic among the lesser beings. Something’s coming.”

And that’s when I hear it. The clanging of an alarm.

The alarm that tells us Myrddin is coming.