‘I’m okay,’ she nodded meeting his concerned eyes. ‘You?’
‘Few scrapes,’ his mouth curved, ‘I’ll survive.’
‘What about Jackson and the others?’
‘We’re fine,’ Father Hubert replied.
Olivia looked around Theo and noticed Father Simmons helping the older priest to his feet. Father Hubert seemed to be slightly pale and perspiring heavily but other than that he seemed to be unharmed.
‘Jackson?’ she asked in concern.
‘I’m here Olivia love,’ the familiar lilting brogue spoke from behind them. ‘Is that it then?’ Jackson turned to the two priests, ‘is it over?’
‘The spirit has been cast out,’ Father Hubert nodded. ‘I can no longer feel it’s presence.’
‘Thank God,’ Jackson breathed.
‘That’s the general idea,’ Father Hubert smiled.
‘You know,’ Jackson answered, ‘considering I’m Protestant I have never been so glad to see a Catholic priest in my whole life.’
‘Well,’ Father Hubert chuckled, ‘I won’t hold it against you. We’re all children of the same God regardless of how we choose to serve.’
‘Amen,’ Jackson murmured.
‘Now if you’ll excuse me, I believe I’ll have Father Simmons here help me home. I’m rather exhausted.’
‘Of course Father,’ Jackson stepped aside and allowed them to pass. ‘You know,’ he turned back to Olivia and Theo, ‘I do believe that’s one Catholic I could actually grow to like.’
‘What the Hell?’ a startled but familiar voice broke the air causing them to turn towards the door.
Shelley glanced around the absolute devastation of the pub before her gaze finally fell on the unholy trio of Theo, Olivia and Jackson, taking in their ripped and bloodstained clothes and their various injuries.
‘Did you have a party and not invite me?’
Jackson grinned. ‘Ah Shelley love ‘tis a long and tall tale best told over two fingers of Jameson's.’
She glanced past him to the shattered remnants of the bar stock. ‘Uh I don’t think you have any left,’ she frowned, ‘or any glasses.’
‘Do you want us to help you start cleaning up?’ Olivia glanced around the room.
Jackson shook his head.
‘You’ve done more than enough, and it’s grateful to you both that I am. My staff will be arriving for their shifts soon, they can help with the clean up. You should get on home and get cleaned up; you look as if you’ve just survived a zombie apocalypse.’
‘What’s a zombie?’ Theo whispered to Olivia.
‘Never mind,’ she shook her head before turning back to Jackson and wrapping her arms around him, ‘call us if you need anything.’
‘That I will,’ he nodded to Theo as they picked their way over glass and debris towards the door.
By the time Olivia and Theo stepped through their front door Beau was dancing around desperately.
‘Hello baby,’ Olivia kneeled down and stroked him as he jumped all over her. ‘I’m sorry we took so long.’
Not only had they been gone pretty much all day but they’d had to stop off on their way home from the pub to take care of Fiona’s legion of cats, a task Theo was extremely unhappy about. The hospital had finally contacted Olivia and although Fiona had pulled through and was out of any immediate danger she would still likely be in hospital for several days, leaving the felines as Olivia’s responsibility.
Stretching tiredly as Beau headed for Theo she yawned.
‘We should feed him; he’s probably starving by now.’
‘Why don’t you go and take a hot shower and I’ll see to Beau,’ Theo stroked the length of her spine comfortingly.
‘Are you sure you don’t mind?’
‘No,’ he shook his head.
‘Alright then,’ she headed up the stairs.
Stepping into the bathroom she discarded her clothes carelessly, it wasn’t even worth putting them in the hamper, they were stained with blood and covered with tiny tears from all the glass and way beyond saving. Turning the water up as high as she could stand it she pulled her hair loose from its ponytail and stepped under the spray. Her skin felt tight and covered in something gruesome. Parts of her exposed skin were layered with Fiona’s blood and her own and probably some of Theo’s as well.
Sighing she closed her eyes, putting her face under the water as she raked her hands through her hair. Her life was just insane, it had been from the moment she’d driven back into Mercy. Pressing her hands against the cold tile she leaned forwards and allowed the hot water to cascade between her shoulder blades and down her back, soothing the scratches. Her gaze fell absently on the blood tinged water as it swirled down the drain at her feet.
Would she have had it any other way? A frown marred her brow as she turned the thought over in her mind. It was a question she’d asked herself a lot recently. What if she’d never come back to Mercy? Would she have been better off not knowing the truth about her parents? To go on living a lie, a mockery of her life, with Mags the one person in the world she’d thought she could trust unconditionally, who turned out to be just another person who’d been lying to her all along.
No, she sighed. Ignorance wasn’t always bliss; she’d take truth any day even if it came with heartbreak, at least then you knew where you stood. So now she would just have to accept the fact her life was a crazy circus of demons, hell hounds, ghosts and people she thought were dead who turned out to be lying, cheating sociopaths.
She pressed her forehead against the cool tile and closed her eyes. The only thing in all of this mess she didn’t regret was Theo. The deep need she had inside for him was something she wouldn’t allow herself to take out and examine too closely. She’d just carried on like everything was normal, not dealing with any of the issues she knew they had. She’d been avoiding a conversation she needed to have with him for days, weeks even. There was just never a good time.
No, she thought to herself. It was more than that, she’d been deliberately avoiding having the conversation with him, which wasn’t fair to him and she knew it. He needed to know that he wasn’t obligated to stay with her, that he was free to choose his own path. The trouble was she was afraid; afraid that he was going to leave her, but more afraid that he was going to stay.
She was messed up, she needed her head examining. Why couldn’t she just be normal? Why couldn’t she give him the one thing he wanted but never asked for. She could see the hurt and rejection in his eyes every time he told her he loved her and she didn’t say it back. It just got caught somewhere between her heart and her mouth and the words wouldn’t come out.
He deserved better, someone who could love him the way he deserved to be loved. The problem was she just couldn’t let him go, it actually gave her a sharp pain in her chest when she thought about him not being there in the house with her. She was stupid and selfish.
Her heart gave a helpless thud in her chest as she heard the shower door slide open and a gust of cool air waft over her wet skin. A moment later the door closed again and she felt familiar arms wrap around her, pulling her in against hard naked flesh.
Everything in her sighed and relaxed. The ball of tension she’d been carrying inside her all day, drained away and she leaned back against his chest, her eyes still closed.
‘Livy…’
His breath gusted warm against her ear and she felt rather than heard his voice under the thunder of the water. Her heart did a long slow roll at the ache in his voice.
Turning her in his arms his mouth took hers, even as his fingers tangled in the wet ropes of her hair. She was as lost to him as he was to her, helpless to deny him anything. In these moments between them the whole world ceased to exist. Her mind emptied until her only thought was the pleasure of his hands, his mouth and his body.
He tasted her slowly and surely as if they had all the time in the world, sucking her bottom lip into his mouth tugging gently
. He trailed lower brushing her warm wet skin with his lips, down her throat to her collar bone. She arched helplessly in his arms as he took the tips of her breasts into his mouth first one then the other, tugging and teasing them into aching points as his fingers stroked between her thighs plunging into the warm wet velvet heat of her. Her breath caught in her throat on a gasp of intense pleasure.
‘Theo please.’
He withdrew his fingers and turned her sharply pressing her hands up against the wall, his own larger hands covering hers. She could feel the cool hard tile against her sensitive breasts and his warm body pressed up against her back.
Her breath was forced from her lungs in small pants of anticipation, her whole body throbbing with the need to have him buried deep inside her. His lips once again resumed marking a trail down the side of her neck, his fingers locking with hers against the tile before sliding across the backs of her hands and down her forearms, tracing the curve of her elbows to her upper arms, leaving trails of fire scorching along her skin.
He was learning quickly. After they had become lovers, it had been so tentative and new at first, just raw passion and a race to satisfy each other as quickly as possible. Somewhere along the line though, it began to change. He was learning how to drive her up to the highest peak and hold her there, prolonging the delicious anticipation of intense pleasure. He knew her body so well now, perhaps better than she did. But there were moments like this when he simply took over; a small smile momentarily curved the corner of her mouth. Usually if she’d been anywhere near Jackson, it seemed to bring out a sharp possessive streak in Theo, which she was discovering she liked, gloried in even. She was his and he made sure she knew it.
His hands slid down the backs of her shoulders and underneath, grazing the curves of her breasts. One hand slid around her ribcage holding her in place while the other slid lower across her abdomen between her thighs slowly stroking. His talented fingertips found the tight bundle of nerves and began to circle.
Her hands fisted against the wall as she threw her head back against his shoulder. A loud gasp escaped her lips as she pressed back against the hard aroused length of him. She bucked against his hand, at war with her own traitorous body, trying to find some relief for the toe curling intensity and yet at the same time not wanting him to stop. But there was nowhere to go, trapped between his body and his extremely talented fingers she could do nothing but take the pleasure he gave her.
A cry tore from her lips as the tension in her body climbed higher, tightening to an almost painful acuity and when she thought she’d almost reached the peak she felt the thick hard length of him sliding into her, slowly inexorably until she could do nothing but climax so hard it felt like her legs were going to collapse.
Theo felt her body tighten around him and gritted his teeth, determined not to follow her release. Grasping her hips he pulled out and slid back in slowly as she leaned forwards and pressed her fevered forehead to the blessedly cold tile. He rocked in and out of her as her breath escaped in small pants and gasps.
‘More,’ she breathed heavily.
He pressed her up against the wall and quickened his pace; plunging deep with each stroke as she reached back over her shoulder and gripped his dark hair tightly.
‘Harder.’
Helpless but to obey, a soft growl escaped his lips as he lost himself in her, pounding deeper and harder.
When his name tore from her lips in a desperate plea, he pulled away and spun her around lifting her and pressing her back against the wall as he slid back into her. Wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist she took his mouth swallowing his moans and gasps and this time when he felt her body tighten around him he followed her down into oblivion.
Chapter 8
Theo stared into the darkness absently stroking the smooth soft skin of Olivia’s thigh. Once again he couldn’t sleep. Glancing across at Olivia’s sleeping form he lightly stroked his finger down her spine, tracing the slight indentations, vertebrae as he now knew they were called. He’d taken some time from reading up on world history to study modern medicine and it was fascinating. The human body and what it was capable of, so many of the illnesses and ailments they’d feared in his time had been no more than simple infections due to a lack of medical knowledge, poor hygiene and social hysteria. His brow folded unconsciously into a frown; so much death and destruction caused by ignorance. When he thought back to the minor things which had been blamed on witchcraft, and by extension on any poor woman unlucky enough to be accused of being a witch, the bile rose in his throat and he almost choked on the burning guilt.
Trying to shake away the dark thoughts he watched the shadows flicker across Olivia’s naked skin which glowed in the pale moonlight. What would they have made of Olivia if she had been thrown back in time rather than him being pulled forwards? he thought randomly. Would they have known what she was? Unfortunately he knew what would have happened. They wouldn’t have seen the beauty of the things she could do, they would have known only fear and in their fear they would have destroyed her. She would have been led to her death as so many others had, swinging from a rope on Gallows’ Hill.
He couldn’t bear the thought and as he shut his eyes against the painful image of Olivia with a rope around her perfect throat, her face was suddenly replaced by another familiar one, it’s icy blue eyes staring back at him from a pale face framed by golden hair. He shot bolt upright in bed and drew in a shaky breath, those cool accusing blue eyes still mocking him. Olivia murmured sleepily at the sudden movement of the bed and snuggled back into the rumpled sheets, her breathing once again resuming its slow measured pace.
Throwing his legs over the side of the bed he scrubbed his hand over his face, resisting the urge to curl back around Olivia’s warm body and breathe in the familiar scent of her skin. Scooping his track pants off the floor he pulled them on and grabbed a t shirt as he moved silently on bare feet towards the door. Beau, woken from his sleep in front of the dying embers of the fire, got up and plodded sleepily over to him.
Smiling, Theo kneeled down in front of him stroking his soft head.
‘Watch over her for me will you?’ he whispered as his eyes once again found Olivia’s sleeping form.
Beau licked his hand and trotted over to the bed. With a small leap and a lot of scrambling he finally managed to pull himself up onto the bed and after turning in a circle a few times he settled down with his head resting across Olivia’s legs and closed his eyes.
Theo headed downstairs, his mind awake and his body unsettled. Wandering into his studio he flicked the lights on, intending to just scoop up one of his sketch pads and curl up in his chair. But his gaze snagged on the canvas in the corner of the room, propped up facing the wall so only the bare wooden frame at the back was exposed.
He stood there for a moment just staring at it. He hated it, he wished he’d never painted it even though it was one of his best, or rather it had been. The portrait of his wife was now buried under thick multi coloured layers of oil paint, obscuring any hint of what lay beneath. He should have just thrown it away but for some reason he couldn’t explain he hadn’t, just as he didn’t know why he’d painted the damn thing in the first place.
His feet were moving before he even realised it. Reaching the corner of the room he grasped the painting and as he turned it around his heart stopped in his chest and his breath hissed out of his mouth. As his trembling fingers clutched the frame his heartbeat suddenly kicked up into overdrive. The painting was no longer covered in a Jackson Pollock -like maelstrom of colours but once again a pristine portrait of Mary stared back at him with cold eyes and a disapproving mouth. What the hell was going on?
Grabbing a sharp knife from one of the pots on the table he placed the portrait on the empty easel and stabbed the knife into the corner of the canvas. Following the line of the wooden frame he cut the canvas away, removing the entire portrait from the frame. Rolling it up he shoved it into the trash can
and headed out into the kitchen. He grabbed a bottle of whiskey and a box of matches from the cupboard, stopping only long enough to pull on his boots and coat before he slipped out of the back door and down the steps into the yard area overlooking the lake.
Placing the trash can down in the snow he poured in a generous amount of whiskey and struck the match. He watched in satisfaction as the canvas caught alight, blackening and curling at the edges as the flames consumed it.
Breathing in the cold night air he glanced across the lake. Once again it was shrouded in a strange undulating mist, much as it had been for weeks now. A sudden cold chill danced down his spine making him shiver. Just for a second the mist seemed to appear not as a whole, but rather to be made up of thousands of writhing shapes rolling across the surface of the water. Suddenly uneasy he turned back to the trash can and watched as the painting finally burned itself down to ashes. Scooping aside some of the snow to reveal the hard ground underneath he tipped the ashes out and then covered it back over with snow.
Heading back up the steps to the door he took one last troubled look at the lake and stepped back inside, careful to ensure all the doors and windows were locked.
‘No, no girl, the next channel,’ Fiona scowled. ‘Good God what on earth is this rubbish?’
‘Why don’t I just switch it off Ms Caldwell’ the nurse replied, digging deep to find her patience.
‘Why don’t you let me go home,’ she countered irritably.
‘Now, Ms Caldwell you know the doctor won’t allow it. You’ve just had very serious surgery and you need to recover before we discharge you. It would be different if you had someone living with you who could keep an eye on you.’
‘Now you listen here, I’ve been taking care of myself for the last forty years. I don’t need some twenty year old nurse telling me what I can and can’t do. I demand to see the doctor right now.’
‘She’s busy at the moment, she’ll be down to see you on rounds later,’ she answered as she smoothed down Fiona’s rumpled bed.
The Ferryman (The Guardians Series 1 Book 2) Page 12
