“What do I do when I get to the gate?”
“You will know.”
Gwen stood. “You’ve said that before. But I’m not sure I believe you.”
The woman smiled. “You don’t have to believe to make it possible.”
Gwen walked to the woman who held out her hands to her. They touched for the first time, and Gwen suddenly found herself filled with an amazing light that was so warm, so full of pleasure, that she couldn’t imagine she would ever feel anything like it again. With the light came understanding. She did know what she had to do.
She only had to survive long enough to do it.
“Goodbye, Mother,” she whispered, as she felt herself begin to float away.
“Good luck,” the woman—Mother Earth—whispered back.
Chapter 19
When Gwen opened her eyes, she discovered that Rhein had fallen asleep with his head on the mattress, but he was still sitting on the floor as he had been when she fell asleep. She touched his head, running her fingers through the silkiness of his hair. Wide, thick curls caught themselves in her fingers and spread apart, making more curls as she let them slip from her touch. It fascinated her, the endless number of curls that wanted to exist on this man’s head.
She couldn’t blame them. She wanted to be close to him, too.
How could she have believed that he would hurt her? How could she have assumed that he was the one who betrayed those who trusted him the most? It simply wasn’t in him. This man had a pure heart like no one Gwen had ever encountered before.
All these years, Gwen had thought it was people she couldn’t trust. She refused to befriend anyone, refused to let the few kind, well-meaning foster parents break down her walls and convince her that they meant her no harm. She walled herself off and believed that the only person in this world she could really count on was herself.
Too much hurt. Too much betrayal.
But the funny thing was, it wasn’t other people she couldn’t trust. It was herself.
Gwen couldn’t protect herself from the predatory foster father who had slipped into her bed for months when she was eight. She hadn’t been able to stop the beatings another foster parent had inflicted her with when she was ten. And there was the bullying ‘brother’ who made her eat some unmentionable things when she was twelve. For that reason, she had learned to keep to herself and to refuse the overtures of others. But what she had really learned was that bad things happen, and there was nothing to do but pretend it wasn’t her body that man was touching, it wasn’t her back that stung from the belt, and it wasn’t her face covered in the unspeakable as tears ran down her cheeks. It was her way to run away.
And that’s what she did when Cei and Rhein told her who she really was.
If she had trusted herself sooner, if she had embraced the truth of her reality, she would have seen through everything Cei said to her a long time ago.
And she wouldn’t have wasted so much time running from the place where her heart really belonged.
She could see it even as he slept. She could see the truth glowing in the aura around him.
Everything had changed. It was as though her soul had been given a second chance at this whole living thing. She didn’t feel broken anymore, not like she had before. She felt at peace.
She ran her fingers through Rhein’s hair again, smiling when he mumbled in his sleep. And then he was sitting up, moving his neck from side to side to work out the kinks.
“Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”
“It’s okay.”
He looked her over, almost as though he expected to find some sort of damage to her body. “You sleep okay?”
She nodded. “Better than you, I would guess.” She reached for him. At first he pulled back, but then he leaned into her, letting her press her fingers to his neck. She didn’t have to rub to erase his aches. That tingle that always came when she touched an oak tree slipped from her fingers into his neck. She could see the pleasure dance in his eyes, as it had the same effect on him that it always had on her.
“Where did you learn to do that?” he asked when she let her hand fall back to the bed.
“Mother Nature.”
His eyebrows rose, but he didn’t question it. She had the feeling that Rhein had already heard it all when it came to this new world Gwen was living in.
She rolled onto her back and looked up at the ceiling, trying to clear her mind of the thoughts that seemed to dominate it at the moment. “It’s a long trip to the gate,” she said almost hesitantly, a part of her afraid Rhein would be angry to learn she’d known where it was all along.
“It’s a little early to go to the hospital. Gives us time to eat, and maybe stock up on a few supplies.”
She glanced at him. “You’re not going to ask how I know where it is?”
“I’m guessing you’ve known all along.”
She propped herself up on her elbow and studied him. “That doesn’t surprise you.”
“Not really. You’re different from all the others.”
“In what way?”
He lay his hand on the edge of the bed as though he wanted to touch her, but wasn’t quite sure it was something she wanted. He studied the back of his hand before his eyes slowly moved up to her face.
“You went from barely able to conjure up a weapon to confidently defending yourself from Branwen in the stretch of just a few days. And these protective barriers you conjure? I’ve seen full-fledged gods mess those spells up. But you…you do it with the wave of a hand so perfectly that Cei—Gwydion’s servant—didn’t recognize it.”
“The others couldn’t do that?”
“They couldn’t hear the trees half the time and that was the first thing that happened to you.”
“How did you…?”
“I was watching you,” he said with something of a blush.
She chuckled a little as she lay back down against the pillows. “I think I kind of knew that.”
“Yeah?”
“You were always there those first couple of weeks. You weren’t really subtle about it.”
“And I thought I was being so suave.”
Gwen laughed again. “You have a lot of virtues, but that’s not one of them.”
His hand slipped over the mattress, touching—almost hesitantly—her side. “You think I have good virtues?”
“Sure. You are incredibly good looking. Is there something about the immortality spell that does that?”
“Not that I know of. We just came out this way back then.”
Gwen smiled. “And you are very patient. I don’t think I’ve ever known anyone as willing as you to sit and wait for something.”
“Oh?”
“How long did you watch Morgan before Cei showed up again?”
“Hmm, about fifteen years.”
Gwen rolled toward him. “And you rarely lie.”
“Rarely?”
“You did lie to me once.”
“When was that?”
She ran her finger along the inside of his arm, watching her progress and the eruption of goose pimples that appeared on his flesh, as she tried to keep her mind on the subject at hand.
“When you told me you had no idea who Morgan’s father was.”
Rhein wrapped his fingers around her wrist, as her finger made its way past his elbow. “You put it together?”
“I should have realized it the moment I found out he was like me. They look so much alike.”
“I thought you might.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because,” he began as he lifted her arm and pressed his hand against hers, “I didn’t want the truth to change the way you looked at Morgan. He might not be a direct part of this who thing, but he is still a demigod and he might be helpful when you break the curse.”
“He’s not…” She hesitated to say what she was thinking, especially since it was Morgan she was talking about, but she needed to know. “His magic is
not like mine.”
“Not exactly. But he’s got skills that could come in handy.”
“He’s dark.”
“Yes.” Rhein intertwined their fingers and squeezed her hand. “But dark magic doesn’t necessarily have to be evil. It has its uses.”
She nodded. “He saved me from Branwen.”
“He loves you in his own way. That is his saving grace.”
She had to agree. She could see it when she looked at him. She knew there was more good about Morgan than bad.
“He was trying to do it again,” she said after a moment. “Bran was trying to arrange for his son to seduce a child of light, but this time, instead of Caradog, it was Morgan. And instead of Blodeuwedd, it was me.”
“Yes.”
“The only thing Bran didn’t take into account was the fact that Morgan is gay and is head over heels in love with Cei.”
Rhein sighed. “Poor Morgan. He couldn’t please either of his fathers no matter how hard he tried.”
“Is that how you knew to watch Morgan? Did you know Bran seduced his mother?”
“I was watching Bran because Cei had disappeared somewhere. I saw him watching this young couple and saw him speak to the man a few times. And then that night…he knew the man would be out of town, and he seduced the wife, convinced her that he was her husband and had returned from the trip a day early. She never had a clue that Morgan wasn’t her husband’s.”
“How did you know that Cei would learn about Morgan and come in search of him?”
“I was pretty sure Cei was working with Bran. And I knew that Branwen would find out about you and tell Bran, and he would put that stupid plan for a daughter of light to declare her undying love for a son of darkness into action again, bringing the two of you together. So it was only a matter of time before Morgan helped me identify the next female demigod.”
“You were waiting for me, too.”
“For much longer than you will ever know.” He squeezed her hand again. “I’ve been down this road with Cei more times than I care to remember. Every time he managed to win the affections of the young demigoddess and convince her to come to Wales with him. And every time it went badly.”
“Did he kill them all?”
“I don’t know.” Rhein ran his other hand over the back of hers. “There were a few I managed to convince to stay away from him, but they failed to find the gate. None of them seemed to have the same abilities you do. Or Branwen got to them. The others…they often just disappeared when they were unable to find the gate or weren’t able to break the curse.” He looked at her for a long second. “I only witnessed him killing the one.”
“How many were there all together?”
Rhein ran his hand slowly over hers again. “Eight,” he said slowly, drawing out the syllable as though to make it longer. “Four I saved from Cei, only to watch them die in other ways. Four he disappeared with, only to return to whichever country he was living in at the time alone.”
“So, I’m the tie breaker.”
“You, my dear Gwen, are a game all to yourself.”
She touched his face gently, sliding her fingers over the high curve of his cheekbone. “You know, if you had been more capable of lying, you might have gotten more of those girls on your side.”
“You think so?”
“I know what he did. He made them believe he was in love with them.” She traced the curve of his jaw until her fingers slipped over his full bottom lip. “But you couldn’t do that.”
“I could’ve tried.”
“No,” she said, sighing as he kissed the tip of her finger where she pressed it against both lips. “You aren’t that good of a liar. They would have seen right through it.”
“What makes you think I didn’t love one or two of them?”
“That’s the beauty of these gifts I’ve been given. I can see your heart.”
“Can you?” he asked, a touch of fear coming into his perfect blue eyes. “What do you see there?”
“You’ve lived a very long life that is different from the way it should have been. You might have been content to dedicate yourself to Amaethon for all of eternity and never thought of a woman the way most men do. But Amaethon abandoned you to a world you didn’t understand when he succumb to Bran’s curse.”
“My life was about the Druid religion,” Rhein admitted. “All I wanted was the opportunity to learn at the feet of a god.”
“And when he was gone, you were lost.”
“I was.” He studied Gwen’s face for a long moment, trapping her hand in his before she touched him again. “There were so many things that I had never been exposed to, suddenly there for the taking. I experienced other religions, other cultures, food, and drink from around the world, people of all moral highs and lows, women who wanted a father figure, women who wanted to be cared for, and women who wanted nothing more than physical pleasure. It was all so…overwhelming.”
“You loved.”
“I did,” he admitted, dipping his head into a bow that might have been construed as shame if she couldn’t see the colors swirling in the aura that glowed brightly around him. But she knew it wasn’t shame. It was acknowledgement of something that was so much bigger than him, something that still awed him because of the power it had over him.
“But none of it ever challenged your commitment to Amaethon.”
“When I made my vow to him, I knew it would overrule everything.”
“If we break the curse—”
“When you break the curse.”
Gwen sighed, reluctantly acknowledging his statement with a slight nod of her head. “When the curse is broken, you’ll go back to being his servant. You’ll go back to a life devoid of human desires.”
“It’s my destiny, Gwen.”
“Even though you’re in love with me?”
Rhein’s eyes widened, showing surprise and overwhelmed by relief. He was relieved to know that it was finally out there, finally acknowledged even if that acknowledgement couldn’t mean much in the reality of what was going to happen very soon.
“Doesn’t that change anything?”
He held her hand between both his hands now, the pressure almost painful in its intensity. He kissed her fingers where they were still intertwined in his.
“I never meant to—”
“No one ever means to feel the way they do.”
He looked at her, his eyes softened by the affection that radiated from them. “No, I don’t suppose they do, do they?”
“I guess this means we only have a very short time.”
“Gwen…”
She quieted him with a soft kiss against that full lip, against that bottom lip that just begged to be kissed and nibbled and thoroughly enjoyed. He sighed, his breath washing over her with an intensity that made her burn from head to toe. And then whatever hesitation there might have been in his desire disappeared. He gently pushed her back against the mattress and crawled onto the bed with her, his hands relieving the need that had built up so tight in her chest that she had thought she might burst if he didn’t touch her.
It was only an hour, but it was an hour that would have to sustain them both for many lifetimes. And that it would…
Chapter 20
Music played from a small radio on a janitor’s cart. Bruno Mars. It made Gwen smile as Rhein pulled her across the hall, dodging a nurse’s aide who threatened to come out of a doorway a few feet away at any second.
Their footsteps echoed as they rushed down three flights of stairs to the basement boiler room. She didn’t need the light that shone brightly from his throwaway cellphone to guide her to the box. She could feel it welcoming her in the darkness like a long lost relative found again after too long an absence. The protection barrier still hummed against its surface when she touched it, still keeping it safe from Cei and his determination. She waved her hand lightly over it and could feel the immediate response of its vibrating purr when her fingers brushed against its intricate carvings.
“You have the key?” Rhein asked.
She dug her fingers deep into the pocket of her jeans and pulled it out, holding it up for him to see. He slipped it from her fingers and slid it into the keyhole, but when he went to turn it, it wouldn’t budge.
Rhein frowned, the look almost sexy on his handsome face.
Only the beholden can open the box.
Gwen nodded, laying her hand over Rhein’s where he was still trying to force the fragile key. He stepped sideways and let her move in front of him. She wrapped her hand around the key the moment he moved his hand away, and it turned easily in her hand, like a brand new key inside a well-oiled lock.
“I should have known better,” Rhein whispered.
A small door opened on invisible hinges, revealing a long, thin piece of the most delicate bone Gwen could say she had ever seen—not that she had seen many pieces of carved bone. She slid it out of the box, noting the tiny symbols carved on its symbol. She knew the moment her fingers touched it what the symbols stood for…and that knowledge scared the courage right out of her.
“I can’t,” she whispered.
But then these images burst through her mind, pictures of the most beautiful things nature had to offer. Babies and small animals, flowers and teeny shoots just emerging from their seed pods. Tall trees and flowing rivers, oceans that stretched over miles and miles of thick, life sustaining mud. Fish in shells and with scales, octopi and clams, bare toes walking in sand and a child’s laughter.
It was life. Nature reborn.
This was the power that was confined in this small, thin piece of bone.
And it was hers to wield as she saw fit.
“What if I make a mistake?” she asked aloud. “What if I mess this up?”
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