by D. N. Leo
“There you are! Hello!” When the light dimmed, he was able to see her smiling face. She kissed his cheek and traced her lips down to his. He stopped the kiss, holding her face up so he could see her eyes.
“Are you okay?”
She grinned. “Perfect.” Then she kissed him again.
“Are you okay, Orla? Tell me what’s going on, honey.” Then he saw a bracelet strapped to his right wrist, one similar to Orla’s. “Crap.” He winced and sat up. He was lying on a lab bench and wearing something that looked like a hospital gown. “What the hell is this?” He pulled at the gown that was a definite insult to his fashion sense.
“Orla, where are we?”
“Eudaiz.”
“Oh, so we made it?”
“Not exactly. Ciaran got us half way.”
He shrugged. “That’s all right. He can brag for the rest of his life that I never complete a mission without his help.”
Orla took a set of clothes over to him, and Lorcan slid into his jeans. Before he pulled his shirt on, he noticed that the dagger had left a large red scar on his chest. That surprised him because the injuries he’d suffered before hadn’t left any trace after he’d healed himself, and they’d been, in his opinion, much more severe than this stab wound.
“Ciaran said your defense system, the one that helps you heal impossible injuries, was very low—or in his words, non-existent—when you took the dagger.”
Lorcan nodded. “All right, I might have miscalculated a little bit . . .”
“Miscalculated?” Tears gleamed in Orla’s eyes. “You knew your chance of survival was less than ten percent. You didn’t calculate at all, but your artificial brain did. That robot warned you!” She jabbed her finger into his chest, tears rolling down her face.
He remembered the little screen that had flipped on in the back of his eyes, warning him of the danger. “How did you know that?”
“We almost didn’t make it. My energy was running out. You couldn’t walk anymore. I was sure that we would be dead halfway into the transitional zone. And then, Ciaran came to rescue us.” More tears rolled down her face now.
He wiped the tears and kissed her cheek.
“And then you didn’t wake up as you had before. The wound wouldn’t heal. Ciaran said you were in trouble, so he brought you to this lab.”
Orla walked over to the window and looked outside. Lorcan embraced her from behind and found her body shaking with emotion. She turned around and looked him in the eye. “Ciaran did an entire profile analysis of you. I don’t know how he did it. You can ask him for the details.”
“I only care about the details that draw tears out of your eyes.”
She gazed at him for a long moment in silence. Then she sighed. “You are programmed to love me.”
He released her from his embrace. “You think I’m a robot? You think my feelings for you have no emotional grounds?”
“I don’t think, Lorcan. It’s a fact.” She waved her arms in the air. “Fifty percent of you was artificially created. Your brain was wired to tell you would fall in love with the first girl who made your heart skip a beat. That explains everything.”
“What does it explain?”
“Why you always followed me. Why you loved me regardless of how I treated you. Why you loved me for no apparent reason. It explains the childhood sweetheart story. What you’ve got with me, you could have had with any girl, Lorcan. But why me? Because you were wired to love me.”
The emotion coming out of her was like a horrific storm, and it stabbed at his heart. The pain was incredible.
“But what about my human half? My parents thought you were related to Bricius. They told me if I chose to leave home to look for you in London, they’d never want to see me again. But I chose you over those I thought were my family. Emotions can’t be programmed! You can program a robot to do anything, but you can’t program it to love. You can’t program a robot to compare, prioritize, and choose between family relationships and romantic love!” He paced the room as he spoke, wanting to smash something. “Now that I’ve turned out to be a thing and not a person, my feelings mean nothing to you? Our lives together, our stories, what we have done together . . . you disregard everything because I’m not human?”
“No, it’s not that . . .”
“It’s not that? So what the fuck is it? What did I do with my fucking life—making fucking stupid decisions, giving up my family, and oh, hang on, that doesn’t matter because they’re not even my fucking family! I don’t need a fucking family. Why? Because I’m arti-fuckingly created.”
“The profanity is unnecessary, Lorcan.”
He waved his arms in the air. “Sorry! There’s nothing I can do about it because it was fucking wired in my brain that way!”
The tears in her eyes had dried. She simply looked at him and waited until he finished his rant. Then she sighed. “I’m sorry, Lorcan. It was just one of my weak moments.”
“You don’t have weak moments, Orla. You kicked me around like a soccer ball for years.” He went to the window and looked outside. He noted that the garden outside the lab was artificial—the lawn, the flowers, the trees, and maybe even the air as well. The garden looked perfect, but he was far from being perfect. He was defective. He turned and looked at Orla, and he would have rather seen tears than what he saw on her face.
He had hurt her.
He wished she would yell at him, call him names. But she didn’t. “Lorcan, I was just wondering if you would ever choose me if your attraction to me were natural? Before all of this, there were countless times I asked myself if your love for me was real. But I love you. I’ve given you all I’ve got. It hurt too much for me to contemplate the slightest chance that you didn’t love me back. So I just pretended I didn’t question anything.”
He didn’t have an answer—for her or for himself. The pain stabbed at his heart, at his brain. He wondered if that was artificial, too. Surely pain couldn’t be programmed. He didn’t ever want to cause Orla pain. He wanted her to know his love was natural, and he wanted to know that for himself as well.
Maybe there was only one way to find out.
Chapter 32
Lorcan’s knees buckled. He slumped to the floor. He felt Orla’s grip, and then he felt nothing else. But he could still hear her. He heard Ciaran’s voice, too. He was glad nobody asked him anything because he couldn’t seem to speak.
“The wound healed. Why is it bleeding now?” Orla asked.
“His body is too weak to handle the injury naturally. He’s relying on other parts to help him survive until he can naturally gain some strength back. His body is rejecting the supernatural part. If he totally disengages with it, he’ll die,” Ciaran said.
“What are you talking about?”
“Orla, the supernatural part of him is like an implant. His body accepted it well before. I don’t know why he’s rejecting it now. What did you say to him?”
“I just asked him if he would naturally love me, even if he wasn’t programmed to.”
“Jesus Christ, Orla! The human brain drives emotions. It can’t be programmed. Love is not in DNA—it’s in the heart and soul. You guys are soulmates, and if you can’t see that, there’s nothing I can do to help you—or him.”
“It’s my fault . . .” Orla cried.
“Beat yourself up later. Grab that machine. I need to resuscitate him. He’s shutting his robotic part down.”
“No.”
“What? If he doesn’t reconnect with that part of him, he’ll die.”
“Will resuscitation connect the two parts?”
“No. But I’m running out of options here!”
“Let me talk to him.”
“Orla!”
“Let me talk to him. Please.”
And then he heard her voice whispering in his ear, “Lorcan, I love you. If you want to love me back, you have to stay alive. I need you to borrow some of the supernatural power. I know I’ve made you hate it. But please try . . . for m
e . . .”
He wanted to try, but he was just so goddam tired. Maybe he just needed to sleep. He blocked her voice out and drifted to a dark and quiet place for some peaceful rest. But suddenly it was like lying on a train track when the train was near. He felt his shoulders shaking, and he heard Orla’s voice again. She was saying something, crying maybe. Maybe if he tried a little harder, she’d let him sleep.
He didn’t know how much time had passed.
A beam of bright light assaulted his eyes again. He squinted, blinked. Then he heard Orla’s soothing voice and felt her cool hands on his face. “Here you are! Hello again!” When the light dimmed, he was greeted by her smiling face.
“How long was I out?”
“Too long. And before you ask, let me say this . . . I love you too much to lose you again. I know you come with extras, like the supernatural part of you and all the cool tricks it can do. So if you ever try to disconnect from your superpower again, I will go back to my clan and figure out a curse to hunt you down regardless of where you may be in this multiverse.”
“Now I’m scared. Can I sit up?”
“Sure.”
Before he hopped up, she planted a kiss on his lips and pressed him back down again. Her hands were busy on his body, and his breath caught so damn quickly. He could feel his body vibrating uncontrollably.
“Are we on a lab bench?” he asked while his hands pulled at her clothes as if he was possessed.
“Yes, and I think this session is being recorded.”
“Anything for research.” He flipped her over so that she lay on her back, and then he ravished her.
Later, Orla was curled into his side, sleeping. The lab door opened, and they scrambled to their feet. Ciaran walked in. “I see you’re up and well.” He sat down opposite the two of them. “You’ve got quite the supernatural makeup, Lorcan.”
“What kind of creature am I exactly?”
Ciaran laughed. “Yes, for lack of vocabulary, I think we can settle on creature. Your human DNA comes from your father. You knew that part. But your emotional and psychological profile comes from your mother. And that fascinates me because you’re the perfect combination of nature and nurture.”
Lorcan scowled. “I’m not your lab rat.”
“Certainly not. But you’re sombody’s, and I happen to know the person who created you and what she tried to accomplish.”
“When will you give me that information?”
“I can’t tell you about your maker, but I can let you know everything about yourself . . . when you’re ready.”
Lorcan nodded and raked his hands through his hair. “We have to go back to Ireland to finish our business there. Then I’ll be ready. How long has it been since we left?”
Ciaran stood. “A couple of days at the most. Do you need my help this time?”
Lorcan nodded. “Not you personally, but we’ll definitely need people.”
Ciaran smiled. “I’ll see what I can do.”
Chapter 33
Tonight was the night. Orla gazed at the altar in the temple from a distance. The doors of the temple were open, and a large group of people gathered outside. In front of the altar, Bradan stood in his ceremonial robe. The senior members of the family flanked his sides. They were waiting for the magical moment.
Outside the temple was a raised platform, set up so that the new leader could receive the energy from the moon.
There was no sign of Maeve. Orla knew her friend wouldn’t be anywhere near this place during this moment. She would be crying her eyes out somewhere in the woods. She felt a tug at her arms and felt Lorcan’s warm hands holding her.
“We will stop all of the suffering. Do you trust me?” he asked.
“I do.”
They heard the chanting sound of praying from the temple and saw that the moon had come into position. Bradan left the temple and went outside. He walked to the raised platform and looked up to the moon. He was quite a formidable character and would make a good leader if not for the dark magic, Orla thought.
Among the senior people in the family, Alana stood solemnly.
“There she is,” Orla pointed.
Lorcan nodded. “What do you think she’ll do?”
“I’m not sure yet. None of them know she’s a traitor and a shapeshifter. I can’t see how she could take the leadership naturally while Bradan is alive. After he absorbs the energy from the moon, there will be nothing anyone can do to remove it.”
“Can she use black magic to kill him?”
“No. There are so many senior people around, she’d get caught. Plus he could shield himself from the energy and magic.”
The crowd had finished their praying and started to cheer as the magical moment crept closer.
“She signaled. Did you see that?” Orla asked.
“Yes,” Lorcan responded as Alana twirled her hair and angled the ring she was wearing to the sky. He saw it let out a faint spark. Lorcan adjusted his wrist unit to signal his people.
Bradan winced and touched the back of his neck.
“They shot him,” Orla said and jumped out of their hiding place.
Lorcan pulled her back. “We have to wait, Orla. Don’t ruin the plan.”
On the raised platform, Bradan swayed and slumped to his knees. The crowd gasped and grumbled in confusion. Aunt Anna rushed to Bradan. A stream of dark blood trickled down his nose.
“He’s poisoned,” Orla said. “I have to help him.”
“How?” Lorcan asked.
“I don’t know.”
From the chaotic crowd, Maeve jumped onto the raised platform and grabbed for Bradan who was turning bluer by the second. Blood started to come out of his mouth. He tried to say something to her, but all that came out was blood. She pulled out her potion and tilted it into his mouth.
The crowd protested.
“White witch, what’s she doing here?”
“White witch, get out of here!”
Maeve ignored the crowd. Bradan coughed out some red blood and leaned into her arms. She helped him up. The crowd yelled for Maeve to get off the platform.
“He needs treatment, or he’ll die,” Maeve explained.
“Let them go,” Anna said.
The crowd quieted down and split in half, leaving a path for Maeve and Bradan. She shifted, taking most of Bradan’s weight, and walked down the path. Someone in the crowd objected, yelling and insulting Maeve, but no one touched them. Maeve and Bradan struggled through the crowd, heading toward the woods.
“I have to help them,” Orla said.
“I’ll wait here. Be very careful, Orla. In case we get separated, I’ll open the portal at the riverbank. Promise me you’ll make it there.” Lorcan grabbed Orla’s hand.
“Yes. Promise me you will be there, too.”
He nodded. She kissed him and headed in the direction of Maeve and Bradan.
The crowd grew noisier as Bradan and Maeve disappeared into the woods. Aunt Anna stood on the platform, glancing around. Alana smiled to herself. She had worked her whole life and sacrificed everything she for this moment. Her clan should be proud of her. She glanced up to the platform and met Anna’s eyes.
“Alana,” Anna called out.
Alana smiled openly. “Yes.”
“You are the third in line. Step forward.”
Alana wished she could tell Anna how much she hated the look on her face, her magic, her medicine, and everything else about her. The minute she became the leader of this family, Anna’s garden would be the first to go. It would give Alana so much pleasure to see Anna suffer. Anna looked at her with disdain and said, “Kneel. Swear to our Gods right here. No need to go inside the temple.”
Of course she would do it right here. She kneeled and swore to the Gods of this family. She would do whatever it took to take this clan over, and then to wipe it out and grind it into dust to make them all pay for her pain. Her whole life had been leading up to this moment. Swear in, become the leader, take the power from the Gods,
Alana thought. Then she would release the bad news with pleasure - the power would not be distributed to their clan but to her shapeshifter family. She would enjoy that moment much more than this ceremony.
Bricius had to be proud of her, wherever he was.
Alana wanted to laugh out loud. She hated this clan so much she could eat them alive right now.
“Alana!” Anna scolded.
“Yes.”
“Are you done?”
Yes, of course.” She stood and looked up to the moon. It was almost time.
Chapter 34
Bradan fell to the ground, exhausted. “Leave me here, Maeve. Go back to the ceremony. Whoever wanted me dead is causing trouble there. Alana is third in line, but I’m not sure she is up to the task.”
“Wake up, Bradan. They treated us like that, and you still worry about them? I wonder sometimes how on earth you belong to that black magic clan. Keep going. I don’t want to be dinner for the shapeshifters.”
“Too late, it seems,” Bradan said. With the strength he had left, he lifted Maeve up, and she grabbed a tree branch and hopped up onto it. They heard the movements of several animals accompanied by deep growls. Maeve reached down to help Bradan climb up, but he didn’t take her hand. Instead, he drew out a pair of hunting knives.
Three leopards leaped out from the bush. Maeve had to admit that Bradan was quick as lightning. Although weakened by the poison and knowing no magic, his combat skills were more than respectable. With a few moves, he took down two animals. The third one tore up his shoulder before he killed it.
Maeve jumped back to the ground. Before they could move, there was the sound of animals moving in a herd. “Holy crap.” Bradan shook his head. He turned around, wanting to lift Maeve up into the tree again, but she backed away. “There’s no way you can take down this many. I’ll stay with you.”
Before Bradan could protest, they saw the reflection of wild animal eyes scattered among the trees. They advanced on the two of them. Bradan pushed Maeve against a tree trunk behind him. He turned to a press a deep kiss onto her lips. Then he gripped his knives.
