by Ann Gimpel
Liliana whooped triumphantly and raced toward Sean. Magic crackling ahead of her, she cut through his chains and fell to her knees next to him. He was breathing. He had to be all right.
When she laid her hands on him, intent on assessing damage, he was burning up with fever. What the hell? He must have an infection, but where?
“I’m here, child.” Gloria squatted on Liliana’s other side.
Liliana dropped the invisibility cloaking her. “What happened to him?”
“Black power. Rhea wedged something into his magical center. She did battle with him just before she dumped the lot of us here.”
“We have to get him home. Or at least somewhere I can work on him.” Liliana ran her hands down his body, hunting for other injuries and not finding any.
“If we try to drag him through time, we’ll kill him.” Gloria’s blue-green gaze was grim.
The sounds of battle rose around them. Screams. Groans. Death rattles. The stench of spilled entrails and blood thickened.
Good. Liliana hoped every one of the bloodthirsty priests met a grisly end.
Arlen ran lightly to them and knelt next to Sean. Power flashed from him, and he winced. “He’s dying.”
“Tell me something I don’t know,” Gloria snapped.
“Hurry, Mom.” Desperation swept through Liliana. “Get us somewhere I can work on him.”
“Go. Morgan and I will find our way back. Everything’s under control here, thanks to the Druids heeding my call,” Arlen said.
Gloria’s spell settled around Liliana where she cradled Sean against her body, willing his fever to at least slow down. She locked gazes with Arlen. “We are mated. It may help. I’ll do everything I can to save him.”
“I know ye will, lass.” Arlen straightened. “Goddess’s grace be with you.”
The churchyard with its stench of righteous entitlement faded. A grotto complete with a pool formed around them. “Quick,” Liliana instructed. “Help me get him into the water. It will give us a chance of controlling the fever until we can locate whatever Rhea marked him with.”
“I hope it’s that simple,” Gloria muttered as they submerged Sean to his neck, holding his head out of the water.
“What do you mean?”
“Let’s hope he’s still whole once we’ve removed the Black Witch taint.”
“I’m his mate, Mother. Surely I can replace whatever he needs.”
Gloria settled a hand on her shoulder briefly, but her eyes reflected worry.
And sorrow.
“Goddammit, Mother. Believe in me. In us.”
“I do, Liliana. And I’ll help every way I can.”
Chapter 14
Sean wandered through a macabre landscape. Battles raged around him. Harsh. Bloody. Ephemeral. Every time he tried to join one, the scene shifted. He drew a hand across his forehead. He was hot. So hot. And tired.
Weary to his bones, but he knew instinctively that if he gave in, laid down, he’d die. His head was fuzzy, but he forced himself to remember what had happened. He’d crafted a seeking spell, intent on following Liliana. Instead, he’d run up against Rhea in a pulsating darkness, narrow enough to impede maneuvering.
Arlen had been there. Morgan too. But Arlen’s sword had been useless. He’d swung it and swung it. Each time, Rhea dodged the blow. Hemmed in by her magic, their Druid power was laughable. Gloria wasn’t anywhere in sight. He heard her, though, screaming curses as she tried to batter her way through to them.
In a single, coordinated motion, Rhea had surged forward and slammed the flat of her hand against his chest. Pain rocketed through him. If she’d sent a multi-edged burning blade through his ribs, it couldn’t have hurt any worse.
The black funnel vanished, replaced by a churchyard. He’d lost consciousness about the time a flock of clerics mobbed them, but not before he realized Rhea had thrown them to the wolves and vanished.
Big surprise. Witches didn’t fare any better with churchmen than Druids.
All that was gone now. The church and angry monks had faded to nothingness. Arlen was gone. So was Morgan. And the fire burning through his body, searing his flesh, only grew hotter. What had Rhea done to him? Sent him on a one-way journey to Hell?
He thought he’d sensed Liliana, but he must have been wrong. She was lost too. Unless maybe she’d made her way back to his castle. He hoped so. He wanted her to live…
Goddess’s tits. Nothing made sense. His mind had devolved into a wandering jumble of randomly firing neurons.
I need to hang on.
But it was too much trouble. Too hard.
His body bumped over an uneven surface. He tried to scream, but he couldn’t even open his mouth. The pain factor escalated until agony and suffering were the only things in his universe. His body was on fire. Heated nails drove into his brain. He couldn’t think. Couldn’t see.
He hunted for his magical center, but the quest took far too much effort.
The journey over whatever was tearing the hell out of his back stopped abruptly. Something dense surrounded him. Dense and mercifully cold. After a pathetically long while, he understood he’d been dragged into a pool of water. He had to have been dragged because he’d stopped moving anywhere under his own steam a while ago.
Or maybe he’d imagined the whole thing. Nothing was real. Not anymore.
“Sean!” rattled through his brain.
He searched for words to tell whoever it was to leave him be, but both Gaelic and English had deserted him, along with all the other languages he spoke.
“Sean! Goddammit, Sean. You cannot check out. I won’t let you.” Someone gave his shoulders a good, hard shake.
He flinched. This wasn’t telepathy. No magic here. They were words. Real words. Who’d spoken them? He opened his mouth, tried to ask, but nothing came out. It was as if someone had inserted a big fat disconnect between his brain and the rest of his body.
I’m dying. This is how it happens. From the arms and legs inward.
He sagged into the water. If it covered his face, he could hurry things along. He could at least do that much, but hands held his head above the waterline, and he was too weak to pull it out of their grip.
“We can’t, it’s too risky,” someone female said.
“We have to, Mom. No choice,” another woman cut in.
“Sean!” The second voice, the one also talking with her mum, sounded rattled but determined. “It’s Liliana. Rhea planted a splinter of evil in your magical center. Mother is with me, and we have to take it out. It’s going to hurt like a bitch, but if we don’t remove it, you’ll die.”
Liliana?
He had to be hallucinating. Along with dying. His brain was playing tricks on him, before it failed entirely. He struggled against the hands holding his head, tried his damnedest to pry his eyes open.
No dice.
“On my count of three,” the first voice said. “One, two…and now.”
The scream he hadn’t been able to find earlier shot from his mouth, followed by so many more he lost count. His back bowed in agony. His heels kicked the bottom of the pool. Waves of anguish rolled through him, starting in the center of his chest and not missing a single cell on their way through.
“Aw, Jesus. I’m sorry, so sorry.” The second voice cracked with emotion. “Just a little more. We’re almost there.”
“I can take this next part.” Voice number one sounded gravelly but gentle.
“No. It’ll go faster with us both.”
His body was still vibrating from the last onslaught. He tried to gird himself, but it was as hopeless as opening his eyes. At least this time, he was expecting the blast of witch power that scoured him from head to foot.
Wait a minute.
Witch power.
He’d recognized its distinct feel. Maybe Liliana really was here. And the mother she was talking with was Gloria. He hurt too much to sort things out. By the balls of every Druid who’d ever lived, he hurt, but it was lessening. While st
ill white-hot, agony wasn’t washing him away, obliterating everything he was.
Pain ripped through him a few more times before it simmered down to serious discomfort.
“Damn, I do believe we’ve done it,” voice one—Gloria?—said.
“I hope so. I can’t put him through another round of that.”
Hands ran the length of his body, lingering mid-chest, the same spot Rhea had targeted. It felt raw, as if he’d lost flesh down to his ribs, but he had to be imagining it.
He groaned. Maybe his screams had paved the way for his voice to return.
Arms gathered him close, held him. Liliana’s familiar scent filled his nostrils. It took gargantuan effort, but he lifted an arm from the water and placed it on top of hers.
“We can get him out of the pool,” voice one said briskly.
“It served its purpose. His fever is nearly gone,” Liliana agreed.
“The water was ancillary. His fever is gone because we defeated Rhea’s enchantment.”
“We won, Mother. Don’t pick it to shreds.”
If he could have smiled, he would have. No one bickered quite like Lil and her mum. Feathers brushed his face, so the familiars must be flitting about. He wanted to thank everyone, but his tongue felt thick and stupid. At least he had a sense of it again as four hands half-carried and half-dragged him onto rocky dirt.
Maybe telepathy would work. It didn’t require much magic. “Liliana? Gloria?” he croaked.
“Yes, love. Both of us are here.”
“Where is here?”
“The closest safe spot where we could work on you,” Liliana replied. “You nearly died on me.”
He chuckled. “Och and tell me aught I doona know.”
More dragging. This time they propped him against a large, flat rock. He inhaled to the bottom of his lungs. It hurt like a bitch, but he did it again for good measure. After a few more deep breaths, he willed his eyes to open, and they obeyed him.
It took a few moments for the world to swim into focus. Liliana sat on one side of him, Gloria on the other. Their familiars rode on their shoulders, and mage lights floated above them. Since his body was returning to his control, he struggled to form words. “Where are we?” He’d asked before, but they hadn’t answered.
Liliana glanced at her mum and raised a dark brow.
“We’re in Inverness, around 1780 or 90, or thereabouts. We got lucky with this cave. Its waters are said to have healing properties. I was prepared to chase people out and wipe memories, but I didn’t have to.”
“Thank you. Both of you. All of you.” He included the birds and tried to sit up straighter.
“Uh-uh.” Liliana rested both hands on his shoulders. “Not yet. You have a hell of a hole in your chest. It needs to knit back together a little more.”
He tilted his chin down, trying to look, but all he saw was his blood-soaked shirt and tartan.
“You’ll have to take my word for it.” Liliana pulled her brows together. “I’m afraid I made a bit of a mess, but I had to hurry. That thing was eating up your magic and killing you.”
“Christ, lassie. Doona apologize for saving my life.” He resisted the urge to touch the wound, explore its boundaries with his fingers.
Leaning forward, Gloria peered at his soaked tartan and the linen shirt beneath. “It’s looking better, coming together faster than I expected. What do you think?” she asked Liliana. “You’re the doctor.”
Liliana narrowed her eyes and lifted a hand over the center of his chest. A cut place ran through the meaty part of her thumb, and blood dripped into his wound. His skin burned, but then warmed as her blood joined with his.
“Good enough for us to leave. I’ve got him.” Liliana wrapped her arms around his shoulders. This time, he was able to hug her back.
“I’ll handle the spell.” Witch magic built around them as Gloria summoned a time portal to return them home.
Home.
He held onto Liliana and thanked every god and goddess in the Celtic pantheon. He’d truly been only a few breaths from death. He hadn’t imagined it. Blind, deaf, wandering through memories, he’d written off ever seeing his home again.
Or everyone he loved.
The curved walls of the cave fell away, replaced by the whitewashed plaster of his great room. A fire crackled in the hearth, and everyone circled around him, kneeling to be at floor level.
He tried for jaunty, but emotion ran far too near the surface. “I’m grateful,” he managed. “For every one of you.”
“Probably not as grateful as I am to see you alive.” Arlen gripped Sean’s upper arm. “When the women left with you, I’d not have given two coppers for your chances.”
Sean inhaled raggedly. “Oh ye of little faith.”
“’Twasn’t that at all, and ye know it. I felt the life seeping from you and couldn’t do aught to stem the tide.”
Katerina wrapped her arms around Liliana from behind. “Mom. Oh, Mom. I was so afraid I’d lost you.” Tears spilled down her face.
Liliana let go of Sean and twisted around, so she could hug her daughter. “I’m tougher than you give me credit for, but I have to admit it was rough out there. Nip and tuck, and then some.”
“It should have been me—” Kat began.
“No.” Liliana cut her off. “You’d have been lost in the vortex that imprisoned me. As it was, it took every shred of my magic to free myself.”
“Someday,” Kat said.
Liliana nodded. “Yes. Someday, you’ll be strong enough, but it wasn’t today.”
Gloria dragged Katerina upright. “You can visit with us later. We need to get Sean out of those wet clothes and into bed.”
Sean struggled to his feet, determined to make it to his rooms under his own power. He was feeling stronger, the danger of dying a thing of the past.
“We’re good, Mom.” Liliana got to her feet.
“Are you sure?” Gloria asked.
“Yeah. Maybe heat some soup.”
“I can do that, and spell it with magic so it stays hot.” Gloria turned and walked slowly toward the kitchens.
Liliana stood by Sean’s side. He leaned on her, and together they walked slowly from the room, the hum of conversation following them. A whoosh and a blur of feathers, and the owl flew past, hooting softly.
Long before they made the end of the hall, he knew he’d overestimated his strength, but he refused to give up. The door to his rooms grew incrementally closer. By the time they got there, his legs were shaking.
“Stubborn, stubborn man,” Liliana murmured, “but I love that part of you. If you weren’t so pigheaded, you’d be dead.” She led him through the door and kicked it shut behind them. “Stand still while I undress you.”
She started by unlacing his soft, knee-high boots. Absent the lacings, they fell away.
Next, she unwound the tartan and drew the shirt over his head. “Hold up one more minute,” she said and ran to turn the duvet down. A quick trip to the bathroom yielded a soft terrycloth towel that she laid across the sheets to soak up any residual moisture.
He crossed the room, aware of each step, and let himself gingerly down onto the bed. She moved his legs onto the mattress and covered him with the duvet. “Sleep, love. It’s the best thing. I’ll be here in case you need anything.”
The owl perched on the footboard, regarding him sagely with its amber eyes.
He tried again for words to tell her how much he loved her and appreciated her and what an incredible woman she was and how fortunate he was that she was his. Despite his good intentions, all he got out was, “I love you, mo croix,” before sleep felled him like a tree toppling onto its side in a thick forest.
Every time he woke, she was next to him on the bed or sitting on a small divan near it. She offered soup, wine, water, and a few more drops of her healing blood.
Light streamed through his windows when he finally opened his eyes and knew that this time they’d remain open. His head felt clear, his body stron
g.
Liliana got up from the sofa and perched on the side of his bed. “Back with the living, are you?”
“Firmly.” He grinned. “How long did I sleep?”
She shrugged. “The better part of three days.”
His eyebrows shot upward. “That long?”
“Yup. Oh, you got up a time or two, and I’ve been feeding you and keeping you hydrated. Once you even took a quick shower, but I knew the healing wasn’t complete, and I spelled you back to sleep.”
“So ’tis your doing I slept so long.”
“A bit self-serving on my part since I wanted to make certain you were well and truly healed with no residual damage.” She laced her fingers in with his. “It’s a nice day, chilly but the sun’s been peeking through. Feel like a walk outside?”
“A most excellent idea.” He opened his arms, and she snuggled into them. He angled his head and kissed her, loving how her mouth softened beneath his, how her body molded to his.
His cock stirred, and he broke the kiss. “If you want that stroll, we should leave now.”
A soft smile illuminated her features. “Right you are. See? Told you shepherding you back to health was self-serving on my part.”
He grinned. “Lusty wench.”
“We’re the best kind.” She scrambled off the bed. “Let me find you some clothes.”
He tossed the covers aside, aware of her eyes on him as he pulled on black sweatpants and a stretchy shirt, topped by a thick, flannel jacket. Socks and running shoes followed. “Is anyone else still here, or is it just us?”
“They all went home. Even Mom. She’s back in Nevada, but she’ll return tonight or tomorrow morning.” Liliana slipped into one of his cable-knit cardigans and wrapped a hand around his arm.
Together, they walked through a glass door at the far end of his suite of rooms that opened onto a terrace and thence into lush gardens. Maintained with magic, they bloomed year around. He breathed deep. Nothing like chill, damp marine air to clear his head and his heart.
“I have a few questions,” he said after they’d made a full transit of the castle grounds.
