Rubbing her eyes and taking a big deep breath, it was now or never. If she didn’t seize the moment, she’d chicken out for sure. Rowan steadied her body and calmed her mind, preparing herself to do what she swore she’d never do again.
“Someone get me a candle and let’s see if we can talk to the dead.”
Chapter 14
Rowan ran her hand over the top of several candles they’d collected for her. Her methods were her own, which was probably part of how she’d gotten into all this trouble in the first place. Like most of her decisions in life, Rowan’s choices were made by a feeling that came from within. The place where, now she realized, magic had lain nearly dormant in her. Rowan acted on what she felt in her very bones.
Adam and Ava agreed to let her do her own thing for now. They had so many spells and wards cast around the house, they felt certain they’d be protected. Devlin cast his own protection around the room for good measure.
After moving her hand several times over a yellow pillar candle, Rowan picked it up and smelled it. These were no ordinary candles like you’d get at the mall. These were special: marked for goodness and positive energy. Ava had quite a collection stashed in Adam’s house. Rowan breathed deep, eyes closed, and felt that old familiar hum inside her chest. Her inner hummingbirds were waking up and fluttering about.
“This one will do,” she said, while placing it on the coffee table.
Tonight, Rowan had to rely on being in a dream-state to connect with the spirits. If she was going to toss one more truth into the honesty jar, she was two parts scared and three parts excited. It had been a long time since she deliberately sought out the dead. It was something she dearly missed, but knew it was not a healthy way for her to live. Her obsession with the dead is what landed her here in the first place. With the help and encouragement of Ava and Devlin, they lit the one candle and Rowan laid back. Smelling the familiar herbs and hearing birds again, Ro concentrated on where she needed to go for answers.
Slam!
She was at the white house again. Déjà vu was sounding the alarms in Rowan’s body. She looked on the porch, but Charlie wasn’t there this time and neither were the boys. She walked into the house and around the first floor. The layout of the house was all wrong. She walked past what should have been the kitchen only to find a small room with bright bottles scattered across the table. Rowan had a brief thought that someone should hang them in a tree but it was gone before she could finish the thinking. Walking forward, Rowan found it hard to breathe.
“Hello? Is anyone here?”
A noise from the other room had her changing directions. Down another hall, she saw what once was the living room was now a large empty cavern. Nothing made sense and her instincts were sending her into flight or fight mode. Unfortunately, she wanted to fly.
“Don’t touch anything,” said a voice in her head. The voice was not her own. It sounded much younger.
“Who are you? What is this place?”
“Go to the attic” was the reply.
Feeling like a fool, she knew better than to listen, but listened nonetheless. Rowan made sure not to touch anything she walked by, which wasn’t too hard. There was barely anything in the rooms or hallways. Up the steps she went until she came to a small wooden door that led to the attic. It opened automatically so she didn’t touch the latch and she climbed the steep narrow wooden steps. Rowan’s body was starting to shake from all the energy around her and she wanted to bolt out of the house and back into the safety of Devlin’s arms. That was not an option though. She pressed forward.
Upon reaching the top step, Rowan saw the place was a wreck. Junk, boxes, furniture, mannequins, old sewing machines, everything and anything was piled into this space. It was going to be much harder for her not to touch anything up here. There was just too much.
Turning around carefully, she yelled out once more for someone to answer her. A gleam in a mirror flickered and she saw flames. A darkness came into focus and Rowan saw that it was a child. Not in full color and not in all black, the spirit was gray, like the color of ashes. Rowan could hardly make out the child’s features but saw that it was a young boy about six years old. Her heart sank. To see a child dead so young is a terrible thing.
“What am I to do?” she asked.
“Help us,” he said.
“Help you how? I don’t understand what to do!” Frustration straining her voice.
“He is coming!”
On a scream coming from the child or herself, Rowan didn’t know, but darkness engulfed her and she couldn’t move. That’s when she heard it: her name, coming from the lips of her angel.
“Rowan” he purred.
The air rushed out of her. His voice felt like velvet down her spine. Rowan instantly sank to the floor in a puddle of lust and longing, she’d come undone and didn’t know how.
Loud footsteps were heard but from what direction, Ro couldn’t tell. Her mind was a frazzled mess and her body was all out of sync. The Shadow Lord stepped into her view and she cowered on the floor in terror, which sent a wave of lusty need and passion down the malevolent Sidhe’s body.
“Come with me, Rowan. I’ve waited so long for you.”
An all too familiar thrill of desire washed over Rowan at the sound of his deep voice. He wanted her, she could tell by his tone - demanding and seductive. And God help her, her body was responding to him and betraying her heart. Like old lovers, his familiarity washed over her and through her body. She’d never seen him as anything but a large black shadow before and part of her wanted to see what he really looked like, the other part wanted to shut her eyes tight with fear.
Still in shadows, Rowan could barely make out his features. But what she could see was frighteningly beautiful. Legs long and thick, they were made of pure muscle wrapped in tight black leather. Large, heavy black boots fit for a warrior went thumping like battle drums as he walked closer. His bare chest was harder to make out, but strength and sinew wasn’t too difficult to see. Tattoos crawled across his chest and down his bulging arms. His black hair was long and draped down to his chiseled abs. His eyes were the color of ice, and the stare he gave her was enough to make the boogie man himself cry for his mother. He was terrifying, seductive, and glorious. Large black wings stretched the length of his Godly body, making him look like a beautiful dark angel.
Her dark angel.
Looking up at him, while tears were spilling down her face, Rowan begged for help. Her mind was frantically trying to find a way to escape, wake up, get help, ANYTHING to save her. Meanwhile, her body was still betraying her. Panting in equal parts of fear and need, her hot sex was throbbing with ache for him.
It felt all wrong. His presence was so familiar to her, it was frightening and confusing. Cicadas hissing in her ears were making her go deaf from the echoes. Emerald eyes burning bright and locked onto his, she lost all control of herself.
“Come with me,” he said again.
She shook her head, trying to hold her ground, but the rest of her obeyed. Like a well trained dog, Rowan crawled on hands and knees behind Lorcan, towards the mirror, and into the fire.
Reaching the other side, no heat burned her skin although the flames licked over her desperate body. All went from searing bright to the darkest black when she reached the other side. Crowding her, shadows were flying, slithering, crawling and dancing. Some came close to her, full of curiosity, while others skittered away to hide. But Rowan didn’t notice any of it. Still crawling like a wounded animal, sweat dripping down her back, she was trying to break herself free of his spell.
Lorcan walked by cages of crying souls and around a mass of human-sized bat-like creatures that were fighting in a huddle. Never looking back at her, Lorcan continued walking into his private bedchamber.
He knew she’d follow.
The room was made of black obsidian. There was a large mirror on the ceiling, which looked down onto a massive bed in the center of the room, co
mplete with plush pillows, black satin sheets and metal chains. Shaking and sobbing, Rowan laid on the cold hard floor of his bedroom. Demons came creeping in and by his command, dragged her onto the bed. A job he would have preferred doing himself but alas he could not touch her yet, for he was still not flesh and blood.
Gaining power was a slippery slope for Lorcan. His body diminished each time he’d worked a new dark spell to gain more power or bring in new bodies to feed on. There was always a price to pay, so his own body had suffered much in order to gain other things he’d wanted, like the mirror, the bed, and the bodies in the other room. He felt the burden of those costs now; he so badly wanted to touch her. But he could do other things to her.
Where there’s a will, there’s a way.
Smiling, he watched as she lay shuddering at the mere touch of his energy. Rowan let out a cry of rapture drowned in sadness. “Shhhh. There is no need to run. You’re home now, my pet.” Lorcan looked down at her on his bed and smiled. Rowan was a lot like the glass art she made in her studio: Fiery, beautiful… and breakable.
Something was wrong. Devlin could feel it. Rowan laid stiff as a board lost in her dreams but Devlin had a terrible feeling inside of him. Instincts saying that what they were seeing wasn’t all there was. “We need to wake her.”
“She’ll wake when she’s done, Devlin. We can’t intrude during something like this. Breaking the link might risk our chances of her speaking with someone who can help us.” Ava never stopped her chirping of birds and the tweets were getting under the Druid’s skin.
Devlin began pacing, his nerves on edge. Something bad was happening; he could feel it even if he couldn’t see it.
In the large bed, Rowan felt like she was floating in a pool of black ink. What was she going to do? Her mind was still spinning with ways to attempt escape and her body had no intentions of going anywhere. Lorcan paced the room, debating on what to do to her first. Boots thumping hard like battle drums on the obsidian floor, he was trying to decide: pain or pleasure?
So many options… so many effects.
He wanted to take her now, thrust himself inside her to satisfy his own greedy needs – but that was not possible. Yet. Her Sidhe eyes flashed hate and anxiety at him, stirring anger in his gut. She was all mixed up and he liked her like that. Scanning the room he weighed his options.
He could chain her up and draw some of her blood, but that thirst would not be quenched this night. His self-control wasn’t enough to make him stop before draining her dry. She was no good to him dead. Revenge? Yes… revenge would be fun. No doubt the bastard who claimed her is sleeping beside her in bed right now. Let’s have some fun. Give him a show. Demonstrate what real power is.
He stalked closer to the bed and gripped one of the chains tied to a post.
Rowan’s body convulsed and she tried to cling to the slippery sheets. The harder she fought, the weaker she got. Within minutes, her muscles went into spasms and her lungs felt squeezed. She needed to get a hold of something, find her focus, and figure out a way to get out of this place. She was dizzy, nauseous and out of sync again. Rowan froze in terror as he came closer to her on the bed.
“You’re hot, Rowan. Take off your shirt.”
She stared with hate in her eyes while her body reacted instantly to his commands. She was but a puppet for him. Rolling up to sitting, she ran her hands down her torso in a long caress, and she grabbed the bottom of her shirt and pulled it over her body.
“Very good, my pet.” Lorcan smiled like a wolf with a feast of fresh meat laid out before him.
Oh, this was going to be fun.
Rowan squirmed on the couch, moaning sounds escaping her lips. She let out a sigh and then started hyperventilating. Devlin came to her side, expecting her to open her eyes any second. What she did was something else entirely. The lass ran hands down her body, arched up and peeled her shirt away. She let out another noise, this one was a half scream, half moan, and it was more desperate than the last.
Adam and Ava looked at each other with the same expression: Oh. Shit.
She was a vision, Lorcan thought. Her breasts perky and full, they were swathed in his favorite black lace. Her hair cascaded down her back, just beckoning to be pulled. She was staring at him, eyes full of rage and craze which only added to his excitement.
“Take off your pants, Rowan.”
She obeyed.
Popping the button and tugging down the zipper, she slipped her jeans down over her creamy thighs and freed her ankles. With a swift motion of Lorcan’s hand, her body stretched out on the bed and faced the ceiling.
“Now, touch yourself. Pleasure yourself, Rowan, and think of only me.”
She obeyed again, tears gliding down the side of her face and into her hair. Lorcan got onto the bed for a better view and watched her trail her fingers further down her body. Stopping at the band of her black panties, panting and frightened, she tried to fight herself as she hooked her thumbs into the sides of the fabric and slid them off. Her nerves were firing and everything felt overwhelming and too sensitive. The swish of the fabric as it slid over her hot sex had her almost blinded with need.
Tossing the black fabric to the floor, she traced up the inner part of her thigh and over her hot mound. She fought herself with everything she had, but it was no use. Her free will was gone. Overrun.
Sliding one finger inside the soft wetness of her folds, Ro’s other hand went up to her breast. She massaged with one hand while her other was plunging into wet silky skin. “Please, no, no, no, no.” She let out a cry of ecstasy and anger. Looking up, she watched herself ravage her own body.
Lorcan marveled at her while she writhed and fought herself. It was beautiful. Rubbing his hands together, Lorcan was hoping it was a sight no one would miss.
“What the hell is happening to her?” Devlin screamed and was desperately trying to get her to wake up. Short of slapping her, he didn’t know what to do.
She was a naked, writhing, hot mess on the sofa. Hands trembling, muscles straining, Rowan shook with tension like she was fighting to pry herself away from her own body. Failing, she cried out as she climaxed, her body bucked and one hand reached out and grabbed the pillow her head was on. She yanked it down and screamed angrily into the cushion. Her energy was sending out a windstorm of lust. Devlin’s body was reacting to hers and he was having a hard time with it. Trying to fight for control of his own needs, his heart was pounding in his throat while he struggled to breathe.
Rowan let out another screech, head tilted back, as she ground her backside into the cushions crying and pleading for mercy. It was maddening. Adam tore his eyes away from the sight. The act was making him uncomfortable on too many levels.
Ava looked at Rowan on the couch, and her eyes grew wide as she finally understood what was happening. The realization made Ava feel sick. “Someone is doing this to her. She’s fighting something we can’t see. Someone is making her do this. They want us to see that she has no control of herself.” Ava felt dizzy and was riddled with guilt and helplessness.
Devlin let out a loud growl and grabbed Rowan by the wrists and screamed her name. Shaking her hard, her body slammed up and down on the couch but she didn’t wake. Crying out, her eyebrows knit close together in pain and agony, Rowan let out a desperate sob and Devlin’s heart broke.
“Stop. Please stop. I beg you,” Rowan cried.
“Oh my pet, you haven’t even begun to beg.”
Lorcan lit the fires around the room until they were completely surrounded by flames. The heat was scorching and air was thick. Rowan struggled to breathe and gain control of herself. Focus. Focus, Damnit! Getting up on her hands and knees she had to take slow, even breaths or she was going to pass out.
“Now there’s a nice position.” Lorcan moved closer to the bed and circled around her like a prowling wolf. Fanning out his hands, he smudged the air against her from behind. Rowan let out a grunt and her body stretched for more. Her need
was paralyzing and her urgency to fight back was crushing. Rowan clawed at the bed and stifled her screams into the mattress. Sweat beaded and rolled down her back. She felt like she was going to burn up in flames.
Lorcan’s laugh was deep and resonating. He was a man who knew exactly what he was doing and was impressed with his own skills.
Just then, two more black creatures came into the room and waited for instruction. One stationed at either side of her, they hoisted her up by the arms, obeying their master’s commands. Their long fingers burned her skin when they grabbed and scratched her and Rowan let out a shrill. The pain was excruciating. Sounds of approval came from all directions and echoed in the bedroom. The demons hoisted Ro up on her knees to face him. With her arms stretched out wide and her hair pulled back, Rowan spat fury towards the bastard.
Shatter - Sins of the Sidhe Page 14
