Coveted

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Coveted Page 31

by Tara K. Young


  Chapter 31

  It had been several hours of interrogation before the police finally left. The noise had alerted the neighbours to a ruckus. Alistair and Bran had removed the bodies only just in time. Alistair said it would raise too many questions to let them be autopsied. Somehow, in those few minutes, they had not only disposed of those bodies but invented a story about a home invasion gone awry. We had all interrupted the perpetrators who struggled with Bran and Alistair before fleeing the scene. Riley had been an unfortunate casualty of the intruders.

  My mother squeezed my shoulders for the umpteenth time. She hadn't let go of me since getting back from the clinic. Her face was still red and blotchy from learning of Riley's fate. I rested my head on her shoulder as we sat on the front step. The house was too foreboding.

  "Maybe we'll move," she suggested. I doubted she meant it. She just couldn't cope with the scene at the moment.

  "I love you, mom."

  She rubbed my arm. "I love you two, sweetie." She sighed. "It's a good thing you didn't walk in on those guys alone."

  I nodded, the entire scene flashing through my memory. Bran and I had both been lucky. We had very nearly lost. Michael had informed me in a brief moment we shared alone that I was so lucky because he had heard me scream and contacted Alistair immediately. Without the two of them, the tides would not have turned.

  Bran, Alistair, and Michael were standing on the lawn chatting as the last officer got into his cruiser and drove away. I needed to talk to them but my mother needed me first. I looked at Bran whose returned expression told me he understood. He would have to wait.

  My mother and I ended up staying at Michael's for the next several days. Her boss had given her more stress leave and so we spent most of those days watching old movies on television. We didn't talk much.

  Alistair and Bran both came by but their visits were usually brief. Each time I saw Bran, I could see the pain in his eyes. Our business wasn't finished but after losing Riley, I wasn't sure how much more loss I could handle.

  It was the following Friday evening that I finally decided it was time. I didn't want it to be, but I knew I couldn't put it off any longer.

  Michael and I went to Bran's where we waited for Alistair to join us. We stood in the kitchen, not talking. Bran stood next to me, holding my hand but not looking at me. When Alistair arrived, I didn't drag it out. "How do I put us back together?" I asked.

  He regarded me for a moment. "So you've decided that really is what you want?"

  I nodded. Bran squeezed my hand. Alistair looked at Bran, then Michael and then me. He smiled a little too knowingly. I could feel my cheeks get hot.

  "This isn't about him!" I shouted. "This is about me. This is about me no longer running from myself or what I have done. It is about taking responsibility so no one else needs to get hurt because of me. I know you know how to do it."

  His smile had faded under the weight of my scolding. "You are prepared for everything this means?" he asked. "Everything you hated or denied about yourself, it all went into him." He gestured to Bran with his chin. "You will have it all back. You'll have feelings and choices to make that you didn't know existed before. All the rage and violent thoughts he holds within himself will be within you. Being good won't be so easy anymore."

  I took a deep breath. "I have to accept that I may not be as saintly a person as I might wish. I have to try to make myself better without cheating. Everyone has their demons. What makes me so special that I get to run from mine? Besides, even being separate, being good hasn't been so easy lately," I lamented, thinking of my suspension and newfound abilities in deceit.

  "Because he has been near," Alistair explained. "The closer you got, the more the halves of your souls mingled and the more of him you regained and the so the harder it became for you to remain good.

  He remained contemplative. Then he spoke what I had wanted to remain unuttered. "Lucina, you are aware that this means Bran will go away, completely. He will cease to exist. Your soul will be intact." He looked at Bran, "And you? Are you alright with this?"

  I felt Bran's hand tighten around mine. He nodded. Ending his existence was harder to accept than the idea of turning into a psychopath. I looked up at him, torn in my decision. For a moment, I was weak once more. We could be together, just stay together. "Maybe we don't have to do it this way," I said. "Maybe we can just stay together. It's what our soul wants."

  Bran shook his head before locking his beautiful eyes upon mine. "It would never be enough," he said. "Did you not feel it even when we made love? The effort to get closer and closer, it is never quite enough. And the pain we would both feel, that dull ache of hunger for each other for the rest of our lives, would consume us. It would eventually destroy you. I cannot do that to you. Whatever monster I am, I am still in love with you." His eyes fell to the floor. "I still have Morrigan's Blade. Maybe I should just destroy myself outright and leave you in peace."

  Before I could shout my outrage, Alistair said, "And you would leave behind a half soul. The entire reason this has happened was because she had tried to live without being whole. That ache you both feel would never leave her if you were gone, she would just lose any hope of ever being able to feed it."

  "I was afraid of that," Bran muttered.

  I reached up and rested my hand on his cheek. "I know it's the only way. I just don't like it."

  He gave a half-hearted chuckle. "Nor do I." The Scottish burr was strong in his ragged voice.

  I leaned into him and he wrapped his arm around my shoulders. If only, in another world, we had been two souls free to love each other, free to feel our connection without that underlying hunger for more. Was that what it was like for soul mates? Was that what made us different?

  I turned back to Alistair. "Now that you know we comprehend our decision, how do we do it?"

  Roghan shrugged. "Very little to it really. All you need is the stone and each other. The stone is the link between you and contains the record of everything it is to be you, everything you have ever said, done, intended... "

  "But if that is her stone," Michael interrupted, "Then why did I remember things from touching it?"

  Alistair smiled. "You only remembered events that involved her or Bran, those of that soul. You had no memories of any events without them present."

  Michael blinked quietly back. Alistair must have been right.

  "But Bran and I just touched it together and all we did was remember," I pointed out.

  "Because you had no intent," Alistair explained. "If you both touch it again with full knowledge and full intent to be put back together, you will become whole."

  "How do you know all this?" Michael asked.

  Alistair was smiling again. "Because you told me," he said. "In a letter I read amongst fresh ruins." He turned back to me. "In each life, you were born with that stone. It grew with you, embedded in the placenta and if someone connected to you touched it, they would remember. In that life, Michael was your father's friend. Your father had shown him the stone, confused about what it was, and when Michael held it, he knew everything. In gaining that knowledge, he made preparations for you and that is why he sent the letter the moment he learned of the attack."

  I turned to Michael. "Why didn't you just handle it yourself?"

  He looked guilty. "I was trying to protect you. I thought keeping my distance might help keep one complication out of the equation." He swallowed. "You know, making choices for you and all that."

  I was both angry and shamed in the same moment.

  "When I learned he had kept the stone from you this time, I tried to convince him that was a ridiculous tactic," Alistair lamented. "He wouldn't listen." He sighed. "If you know where it is, you can mend your soul anytime."

  My thoughts returned to my bedroom. The stone was still in there. My heart sped up. It could be only minutes. I wasn't ready. I looked up at Bran. "One more day," I whispered, "Please."

  He nodded.

  I turned to Michae
l and Alistair. Alistair was already headed for the door. Michael was looking at his feet. "Take this time to make your peace with each other. I'll take care of your mother," he said, before joining Alistair.

 

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