Brigit clung to Adam as Bridin hugged the old man hard.
“Aside from you girls, I got no ties. And there’s nothing in this world I’ll miss.” He touched Bridin’s shoulder. “I want to go there, Bridey. I want to see it.”
Smiling gently, Bridin nodded.
“It’s just a cave,” Adam whispered, closing his eyes as he held Brigit still harder. “Maybe there’s nothing on the other side. We don’t even know—”
“You know,” Bridin told him. “It shows in your eyes, Adam Reid. Come along, and walk us to the gateway. It’s time.”
Brigit clung harder for a second. But then she slipped out of Adam’s embrace. Bridin bent over and crawled into the cave. Raze behind her. Grating his teeth, Adam followed with Brigit close to him, all the way. Inside, they found the larger, room-like area where he’d played as a child, and he ran his hands over the stone to feel the spot where he’d carved his name such a long time ago.
“Come,” Bridin said. She led them once around the room, and then back to the entrance. And then she was scuttling back through the passage, toward the gleaming yellow light at its end.
Adam crawled behind her, his stomach knotting, his pulse pounding. He kept telling himself it wouldn’t be there. It wouldn’t. It couldn’t.
And he emerged, and stood just in front of the cave’s entrance. Before him there was a wall of dense vapors—a wavery film of something that looked the way heat waves look when they rise from hot pavement. And he put his hand on it, but couldn’t push it through.
“Rush,” Brigit whispered, as she emerged from the cave and straightened. She turned in a slow circle, looking all around her, and Adam knew she didn’t see the barrier. For her, it wasn’t there. Just as it hadn’t been there for him when he was a child. She could pass through...but he’d be unable to.
His heart contracted painfully.
Brigit threw herself into his arms, sobbing aloud now, clinging to him with surprising strength.
“It’s going to kill me, Adam. God, I don’t want to leave you. I love you. I love you!”
“I know.” His tears flowed freely now, and he stroked her hair, kissed her face. “I know, baby. I love you, too. This is the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”
“Look there,” Raze said, pointing, and everyone followed his gaze.
Castle spires stood beyond the trees in the distance. Softly gray and silver, mingling with the clouds.
“The Kingdom of Rush,” Bridin whispered.
She turned then, touched Brigit’s shoulder, drawing her away from Adam just a little, and pointing. And Brigit looked toward those towers, and her eyes widened a little, in wonder.
Bridin’s eyes filled with tears as she stared at those spires, and Brigit reached out with a shaking hand, to brush them away.
“Leave them,” Bridin told her. “I haven’t been able to cry since I left here.”
“Bridin...”
“I have to go, Brigit. It’s my destiny. You know that.”
“I know. I’m coming.” She turned back to Adam, and he held her once more, knowing the time had come to let her go. He loved her, God, how he loved her.
He dipped his head, and kissed her long and deep. And then he straightened away from her. “Just know I love you,” he told her. “Never forget that, Brigit. Now go, go on.”
Covering her face with her hands, Brigit turned and ran away from him, sobbing out loud, as she passed through that shimmering veil, and disappeared into the forest beyond it.
“You’ll be rewarded, Adam Reid.”
“I’ll be in hell, Bridin. And if you let anything happen to her...” He shook his head slowly, and ducked back into the cave. Into blackness and emptiness. And he knew he’d never emerge from it again. He’d never feel the sunlight. He’d never smile. He’d never be happy again. Not without Brigit.
He made his way to the large room inside, before his strength gave out. His legs wouldn’t hold him any longer, so he sank to the floor with his back braced against the cold stone wall, and he broke down. Grief pounded his body like a hurricane, and he wondered if he’d ever find the strength to get up again.
Brigit sank to the ground beneath an odd-looking tree, with pictures in the swirls of its bark, and she sobbed.
“My sister.”
She sniffed, shook her head, refusing to look up. “No. It’s no good, Bridin, can’t you see that? I’m no good to you here. I’ll never be any good without Adam. I need him.”
“This is Rush, Brigit. This is your home. It’s where you were born.”
“But my heart isn’t here. It’s back there, on the other side, with Adam.”
She cried softly, and in a second, her sister whispered, “I know.”
The serenity in Bridin’s voice reached her. She finally lifted her head, met her sister’s gaze.
“I’m sorry,” Bridin told her, and she lowered herself down to the moss-covered ground, and put her arms around Brigit. “I’m so sorry. But you’re right. You’ll be no good here. I can see that. And I believe his love is true. Because he loved you enough to let you go. And I believe yours is true as well, because you gave him up in order to save his life.”
“What difference does it make now?” Brigit bit her lip, but her tears continued flowing all the same. “I’ve left him back there. And you said yourself we can’t pass through the damned doorway unless we do it together.”
“It’s true. I needed you to get back. But I do not need you in order to remain. I can do that all by myself. My place is here.” She stroked Brigit’s hair, leaned close, and kissed her cheek. “I thought yours was, too. I thought once you set foot here, once you breathed the air of Rush, you’d...” Her voice trailed off and she shook her head. “But no. Your place is back there, in the mortal realm, with Adam.”
Brigit stopped crying. She met her sister’s eyes. “But how...”
“There’s one way, Brigit.” Bridin reached up to the back of her own neck, unclasped her pendant. “If one of us has possession of both the pendants...either of us may pass through the doorway alone.”
Brigit frowned, shaking her head slowly. “I don’t understand. Why didn’t you say so in the first place, Bridin? I’d have given you the pendant if that’s—”
“Giving up your pendant is only symbolic,
Brigit. It stands for a far greater sacrifice. It means giving up your magic.”
Brigit blinked in surprise. Giving up the magic? But she’d only just found it.
“I love you, my darling little sister.” Bridin bowed her head, and held her pendant in an opened palm. “I give you my—”
“No!” Brigit jerked herself rigid when she realized what her sister meant to do. “No, Bridin. You mustn’t. You’re the one who needs the magic. You’re the one who’s going to stay here, and fight this Dark Prince for the throne. No.” And she gave a small tug on her own pendant, freeing it, and pressing it into her sister’s hand along with the other one. “I’m the one who gives my magic to you. And my pendant. I won’t need it where I’m going.”
Bridin bit her lip, closed her palm. “Thank you,” she whispered.
“I love you, Bridin.”
“We’ll see each other again,” Bridin insisted, nodding hard as if to insure it would be true. “When the kingdom is safe Brigit, I’ll come through again.”
Brigit hugged her sister hard. “Thank you. Thank you, Bridin.”
“Go on. Go back to your Adam.”
Brigit straightened away from her, and turned. Raze had been standing nearby, watching with damp eyes and an occasional sniffle. But then he went rigid, and waved a hand to hush them, and Brigit listened, hearing the sound of hoofbeats in the distance. “Someone’s coming.”
“Go!” Bridin gripped Brigit’s arm, pushing her back toward the cave. “Go on, now before something happens to you.”
“You go,” Brigit whispered back. “Go, hide in the forest. Hurry.”
Bridin nodded, turned away. But she whirled around, once aga
in, to hug Brigit with all her might.
And then Raze grabbed Brigit and kissed her cheek. “I’ll watch out for her, my girl. Don’t you worry.”
“Goodbye, Raze. I love you!”
Raze turned away as the hoofbeats drew nearer. He gripped Bridin’s arm and ran off into the trees, and they were soon invisible within the embrace of that mystical forest. The forest that had once been Brigit’s home. She stared at it, and at those castle spires beyond, for only an instant.
And then Brigit turned and ran to the doorway without a backward glance. She ducked her head and crouched low as she crept back inside the cave.
She found Adam there. He sat on the floor and his face was wet with tears that shimmered in the darkness. He seemed lost in agony, and he only blinked in confusion when he saw her.
Then he blinked again, and slowly got to his feet. “Brigit?”
“It’s all right, Adam,” she told him, hurrying to him, pressing herself close as he enfolded her in his strong, trembling arms.
“God, is this real? If it is, Brigit, I’m sorry, but I can’t let you go back. I can’t let you go. It’s impossible, and it can’t be right. Not when it feels so damned wrong. Not when—”
“Shhsh.” She tipped her head up, and planted a brief kiss on his mouth. “I told you, it’s all right. I’m staying.”
He just stared in disbelief, shaking his head slowly. “Staying?”
“Yes. Yes, Adam.”
Gradually, his lips pulled into a smile, and his eyes widened. “Staying?” he asked again. “Jesus, Brigit, say it again.”
“I’m staying, Adam. Right here with you, forever if you think you can stand me that long.”
His arms tightened around her waist, and he lifted her right off her feet, turning her in a circle. Then he let her slide down the front of him until her feet touched the ground, and he bent his head to kiss her, and kiss her, and kiss her.
And when he came up for a breath of air, he held her hard, burying his face in her hair and inhaling. “I love you, Brigit. More than anything in the world. I want to marry you.” He drew away so he could look down into her eyes. “Say you’ll be my wife.”
“I think that would be for the best,” she told him, and she gripped his hands and brought them down until his palms rested on her abdomen. “Since my sister tells me I’m carrying your son.”
He closed his eyes. Bit his lower lip. And she marveled at the tear that rolled down his cheek a second later. “You’re not a fairy,” he whispered. “You’re an angel, Brigit. You’re the angel sent from heaven to save my life. To give me back my life. And I’m going to cherish you...” His hands rubbed her belly gently. “...And our baby, for as long as I live. I promise.”
“I’m not magic anymore,” she told him.
“Oh, yes you are, angel.” He dropped to his knees, and pressed a kiss to the part of her that sheltered his child. “Cause if this isn’t magic, I don’t know what is.”
Then he rose, and kissed her. It was an endless kiss filled with promises, and dreams......and magic.
Part Three: Happily Ever After
Epilogue
There were tears of joy in Adam’s eyes when he leaned over her and gently laid their newborn son into her arms. “His name is Jonathon, after your father,” he told her, kissing her face, tasting her tears. He couldn’t take his eyes from the wriggling bundle nestled in the downy white blanket. He had his mother’s curling, jet-black hair and his father’s sapphire eyes. To Adam there was no one in the room other than the three of them. No doctors or nurses milling around, cleaning up, removing latex gloves, commenting on his healthy son. Just him and his wife and little Jonathon.
“And Adam, after you,” Brigit said. Her son had a grip on her finger, and it seemed she couldn’t look away. “Don’t forget. We agreed.”
“Jonathon Adam Reid. Just as we agreed.”
And he kissed her.
“He chose a good day to be born, didn’t he?”
“A perfect day,” she replied. “The day the first copies of his own personal fairytale—the one his parents created just for him —hit the shelves. I think he knew.”
“Speaking of which,” said one of the nurses, interrupting them. “I brought my own copy. Will you autograph it for me?”
She picked up the huge storybook from where she’d dropped it when she’d rushed in here, hours ago. It was bound in a lovely leather cover. Each and every page had a beautiful, whimsical painting illustrating it. Paintings created by Brigit, with the remnants of magic she seemed to have retained despite the loss of her pendant.
Adam hoped, for Brigit’s sake, that the pewter pendant had helped her sister. She hadn’t heard from Bridin since she’d left her in Rush, and Adam knew she worried about her. But there was a certainty nestled deep in Brigit’s heart, that no matter what might happen to Bridin, she’d be all right in the end. She talked about that feeling often. She’d told him that she clung to that certainty, believed in it with all her heart.
She turned her attention again to the storybook. Within the book’s pages was a tale of adventure every child would cherish. All fiction, of course. Or...pretty much so. Unlike her sister, Brigit had assured Adam as she’d offered advice on the plot he’d constructed with great care for his son, she had not inherited the ability to predict the future.
“My kids are going to love it,” the nurse said softly. “I can’t wait for the next book in the series.”
Fairytale, the cover said, in elegant golden calligraphy lettering that glittered magically in the overhead lights. Book I. Written by Adam Reid. Illustrations by Brigit Malone Reid.
“I especially love that opening page.”
The baby in Brigit’s arms made a startled sound, and Adam could have sworn he reached for the book.
“Darling,” Brigit whispered. “He wants you to read him his story.”
The nurse chuckled and handed the book to Adam. Then she discreetly slipped away. Adam sat on the edge of Brigit’s bed, and she held little Jonathon up as if he needed a better view of the pictures.
“Once upon a time,” Adam began, and if his voice was choked, it was because of his tears, and because of the swelling in his heart, and because he was wondering again, as he often did these days, how the hell he had gotten so lucky. “There was a little boy. His name was Jonathon Adam Reid, and he was the most precious thing in his parents’ lives.” Adam reached out one hand to stroke his son’s glistening black hair. “They gave him all the love in their hearts, because they knew how very much every child in the world deserves to be loved.”
Adam paused, leaned down to kiss his wife, and then his son, and then he turned the page. “One day, Jonathon went on a great adventure, and this is the story of that adventure. It happened on the other side, in the enchanted land of the fairy folk, the land known as Rush...
The End...or is it?
***
Exclusive Excerpt From:
Twilight Fulfilled
By Maggie Shayne
Available in print Sept. 20, 2011
Available in E-format, Oct. 1, 2011
Copyright © 2011 by Margaret Benson. Permission to reproduce text granted by Harlequin Books S.A.
Chapter One
Coastal Maine
It was the blackest, rainiest night the forgotten and overgrown cemetery had seen in centuries. Ancient tombstones leaned drunkenly beneath the bones of dead-looking trees, while gnarled limbs shivered in the cold. Arthritic twig-fingers scratched the tallest of the old stone monuments like old, yellow fingernails on slate. And the surviving vampires huddled together around an open, muddy grave.
Brigit Poe, part vampire, part human, and one of the only two of her kind, was dressed for battle, not for a funeral. It was only coincidence that she wore entirely black. That breathable second-skin fabric favored by runners covered her body from ankles to waist like a surgical glove. Over the leggings, she wore tall black boots, with buckles all the way up to her knees. The chunky f
our-inch heels provided extra height, an advantage in battle. And the weight of them would add more potency to a kick. Her black slicker looked as if she’d lifted it straight from the back of a cowboy actor in an old spaghetti western. It was long and heavy, with a caped back, but it did more than keep the rain away. Its dense fabric would help deflect a blade.
She could have wished for a hood. She could have wished for a lot of things, topmost among them: for the task she faced to fall to anyone other than her. But that wasn’t going to happen.
As she stood there, watching each vampire move forward to pour ashes into the muddy hole, her twin brother walked up to her and plunked a black cowboy hat onto her dripping-wet blond curls. She had, she’d been told, hair like Goldilocks, the face of an angel, the heart of a demon—and the power of Satan himself.
Black hat, she thought. It figured. In that spaghetti Western she’d been envisioning, she definitely would have worn a black hat. Her brother would have worn a white one. He was the good guy. The hero.
Not her.
“It’s not going to be easy,” he told her. “Hunting him down. Killing him.”
“No shit. He’s five thousand years old and more powerful than any of us.”
“Not exactly what I meant, sis.” James—known to her as J.W. despite his constant protests—looked her dead in the eyes. She pretended not to know what he was looking for, even though she did. Decency. Morality. Some sign that she was struggling with the ethics of the decision that had been made— that she must find and execute the ancient one who had started the vampire race.
Fairytale Page 28
