by Diana Duncan
“I do. It was very thoughtful.” She eyed Zack. “Of both of you.”
Zack handed Delaney a chocolate brown gift bag stuffed with hot pink tissue and topped by a curly froth of pink ribbon. “Live long and prosper, Lanie.”
She pulled out a box of imported raspberry liquor-filled truffles and a Starbucks gift card. “My favorites!”
“And if you’d like company while you enjoy that coffee…I’m available.”
“Yeah, I have your number, Walker.”
He winked at her. “You certainly do.”
“You stalking me, Detective?” She chuckled. “I might have to call the cops.”
“I live to protect and serve, babe. 24/7.”
Fists clenched, Rowan turned away to stare at Delaney’s raven wheeling over the rippling waves. He had no right to the proprietary jealousy that seared his guts. These people were Delaney’s family.
He was the outsider.
A hike around the loch was first on the agenda—another tradition. Amidst jokes and merriment, the group trooped into the shady woods. Delaney moved into step beside Rowan, tucked her hand into his. “I’m glad you’re here with me,” she murmured.
Zack caught up from several paces behind. His gaze shifted to their intertwined fingers and he shot a glower at Rowan. “Don’t take ‘guarding her body’ too literally, Gun-for-Hire.”
“Zip it, Zachary,” Delaney ordered. “If you’re gonna be a jerkwad, you can just leave.”
Rowan swallowed a laugh as Zack deflated like a pricked balloon. His lass didn’t let anybody take the piss out of her.
Nope, not even you, Braveheart, she silently arrowed at him.
Whoops. He caught her mischievous grin, and his heart did a slow loop-de-loop. Followed by a shaft of fear. Dammit! If he wasn’t vigilant, she’d figure out…
He went cold all over and killed the thought before it could fully form.
Delaney squeezed his hand, and he resolutely squashed the doubt demons. Not today.
They stopped frequently. To skip stones into the water. Watch quicksilver flashes of rainbow trout leap into the sunlight. Admire a stalwart regiment of golden-brown mushrooms encamped around a fallen log. It was Rowan’s most carefree interlude in well over a year…except for constantly having to shore up his emotional shields.
A little over two hours later, the party wended back to the campsite. Archer lit a cheerful blaze in the fire pit, then put baked beans in a sturdy covered pot to heat over the flames. They all roasted hotdogs on sticks and ate them on mustard-slathered buns accompanied by beans, coleslaw, and potato crisps, which the Yanks referred to as “chips,” along with ice cold sodas.
Delaney leaned against him at the picnic table, relaxed and engaged in easy camaraderie with her friends.
When nothing but crumbs remained, she stood and clapped her hands. “Time for the annual Birthday Bowl. Pony up, guys.” She chortled gleefully. “Remember what happens to the losers.”
Rowan cocked a brow at Archer. “What happens to the losers, then?”
The glint in the Guardian’s dark eyes was not reassuring. “Trust me, MacLachlan, you wanna be on the winning side.”
They each wrote their names on slips of paper drawn from an empty crisp bag. Delaney, Vanessa, and Archer ended up on the Green Team, which put Rowan, Jason, and Zack on the Yellow Team. Archer produced a battered football, and they all met at the line of scrimmage in the field’s center.
Zack looked askance at Rowan. “You ever played American football?”
“Nay. Have seen it done, though.”
Zack snorted. “Try to keep up.”
“Ever played rugby, Detective Walker?”
“Nope.”
It was Rowan’s turn to grin. “Makes American football look like a Girl Scout cookie sale.”
The Green Team won the coin toss. Delaney counted down, hiked the ball to Archer, and they were off and running.
The teams were surprisingly well-matched. Delaney turned out to be a crackerjack quarterback. Once she latched onto the football, the Yellow Team had a helluva time catching her. Rowan enjoyed tumbling her into the fragrant grass, her supple body trapped beneath his, her breathing rapid, blue eyes sparkling. Which made him want to play a whole different game with her.
The score went up, down, finally tied. Archer tackled Zack, who fumbled. Vanessa scooped up the ball, dodged Jason and rocketed a Hail Mary to Delaney. Delaney faked out Rowan’s attempt to block her, zigzagged around him, then raced across the goal line.
“Oh, yeah!” she whooped. Spiking the ball, she did a sexy little hip-wiggling dance in the end zone. Her face was sunnier than the weather, her smile as carefree as the field of wildflowers waving in the breeze behind her. “We win! Give it up for the awesome-sauce that is the Green Team!”
Even Archer was grinning when Archer, Delaney, and Vanessa marched the losers onto the boat dock…and pushed them into the ice-cold loch.
The icy slap momentarily stole Rowan’s breath, but he quickly acclimated. Zack and Jason thrashed and yelled in mock distress for the lasses’ benefit before clambering back out onto the dock.
Offering Delaney a wry smirk, Rowan reached up a dripping hand. “Winner gives the loser a boost?”
“Sure.” She firmly grasped his hand.
He gave a quick, sharp tug, and yanked her into the water with him.
She bobbed up gasping, spitting…and laughing. “Hey! What’s the matter with all you crybabies? The water’s fine.”
That inspired Zack and Jason to shove in Archer and Vanessa. Then yodeling, the cop duo cannonballed into the loch.
Giggling like a fiend, Delaney paddled in circles, splashing everybody. A saffron sunset rode low on the loch’s horizon, setting her hair aflame and gilding her eyes to brilliant sapphire.
Realization thrust a knife through his chest.
This was where she belonged. Drenched in lighthearted laughter and golden sunlight. Not mired in the darkness of blood and demons and death.
Pain doubled him over. He sank beneath the surface, let himself float in the liquid comfort of muted quiet.
It seemed like an eternity, and yet a mere moment, until Delaney’s fingers fisted in his hair, jerked him to the surface. “Rowan!” Her worried gaze sought his. “Are you all right?”
“Fine,” he lied. “Drown-proof, remember?”
They all climbed out, dried off around the fire. Rowan surreptitiously sped the drying process for everyone—not fast enough that they’d notice and bring on Discord, but enough so none of them would catch a chill.
Bleakness tormented him while they toasted marshmallows to build concoctions of melted marshmallow, chocolate bars and graham crackers. Longing strangled him when Vanessa stuck a tiny candle in Delaney’s cookie and urged her to make a wish, and Delaney held his glance and smiled when she blew out the flame. Agony rendered him mute as black velvet swathed the sky and the group sang “Happy Birthday,” followed by camp songs and then bawdy limericks.
Delaney linked her arm with his. “Missing your family?” she asked gently.
Bereft of words, he nodded another lie.
He was both relieved and regretful when the party ended, and he and Delaney drove home together through the hushed night, watching storm clouds obliterate the stars.
“Looks like our reprieve of nice weather is over,” she said wistfully as raindrops hammered the windshield.
“Aye.”
“Rowan? Are you thinking about tomorrow?”
The commando raid was planned for high noon, when creatures of the darkness were at their weakest. That also gave their team more time to thwart the ritual. Samhain rites were performed at midnight on October thirty-first when the veil between the Otherworld and the Mortal World was at its most fragile.
“Nay.” His thoughts were consumed by what he must do beforehand. “Tomorrow will come soon enough. We’ll not think of it tonight. Nor speak of it.”
“Then what’s wrong? You seem so sad.”
“You’re misreading me.” Lie number three. “‘Twas a grand celebration. I thoroughly enjoyed myself.”
Until the truth had disemboweled his newborn hope, leaving it bleeding…dying on the forest floor.
Inside her flat, he switched on the gas fireplace while she docked her iPod. Bono’s smoky voice drifted out, crooning the opening lyrics of “With or Without You,” as Delaney strolled over to Rowan. She looped her forearms around his neck. “The celebration’s far from over.”
He slid an arm around her waist, his other hand cupping her cheek as they swayed to the sensual rhythm. His thumb brushed the corner of her bottom lip. “You have a wee bit of melted marshmallow, right…” He bent his head to capture her mouth. Warm and soft and sweeter than the candy.
Before the night is done, luv, I will taste every precious centimeter of you.
Her pulse fluttered beneath his fingers. I’m all yours, Rowan.
Aye, his woman. For only one more night.
He would take his time. Cherish every fleeting moment. His insides wrenched. Because he now knew for certain this would be their very last time.
And the knowing was unbearable.
They danced. Kissed. Whispered endearments and feathered touches, spinning anticipation into a shimmering thread of desire.
Clothing drifted away piece by piece. Firelight burnished copper highlights in Delaney’s hair and bathed her creamy skin in luminescence. His alabaster goddess. He laid her down on the rug in front of the fire and made slow, tender love to her. With his kisses, he tried to tell her of his longing. With his body, he tried to show her the love he dared not say aloud.
Delaney, you are my miracle. The only thing I want in this world.
But he wasn’t free to speak—nor even dared to think—of those things.
As she came apart in his arms and cried out his name, he clung to her, poured himself into her, while the heart he’d thought had hardened beyond caring splintered inside his chest.
Delaney was the soulmate he’d been yearning for his entire life. Yet he couldn’t have her.
He made love to her thrice more, memorizing every expression on her beloved face, every last word. Treasuring bittersweet pleasure, delaying inevitable pain.
Far into the night, Rowan watched her blissful, trusting features as she slumbered in his arms…and ached with the torment of loving her. Beauty and grace and humor flowering amid the ugliness of war.
He’d sought her out as a means to an end. Now she would be the end of his hopes. The death of his peace. He would carry her essence within him the rest of his empty life.
He buried his face in her silky hair and breathed in her scent. How he felt, what he wanted, didn’t matter. Since his first steps, he’d been trained to be a Clan Chieftain. Taught to protect. He knew his duty. No matter how badly it hurt, he was sworn to his carry out his oath.
And he would do anything to keep her from harm.
Even damn his soul for eternity.
Thunder groaned overhead, echoing his black despair. He’d been wrong when he’d warned her she’d hate him. His eyes slammed shut on a wave of grief. She wouldn’t even remember him.
His voice trembled, his hands shook as he fetched his dagger. He would have to survive the remainder of his days on memories alone. Delaney wouldn’t have to endure that.
Slashing his palm, he began the spell that would forever wipe away her every memory of him.
And steal all her Powers for his own.
* * *
After it was done, and Delaney was once again mortal, Rowan unfastened Morrigan’s amulet from around her neck. Clenching it in his bleeding palm, he left the bedroom and shoved it into his coat pocket. He dressed, then obliterated all physical traces of himself from the flat. Including the birthday gifts he’d given her just that morning…before the death of his dreams.
The incantation also erased him from the minds of Delaney’s human contacts. They’d all—including Connor’s doctors—believe Connor had been injured in the prison riot. Delaney would remember her time alone at the cabin, remember Zack’s confession, recall all mortal events of the past month—minus Rowan’s presence or contributions.
Supernaturals would no longer be drawn to her, unable to sense or track her. However, as a precaution, he’d covered her with the strongest Mage concealment and protection spell. He’d already dealt with the Druid, and he’d brief Archer and the team when they gathered for battle. The Guardian could do nothing to uncross Rowan’s incantation. No one could. Truthfully, Rowan suspected Archer would be relieved.
Rowan’s final task was to extract Zack’s ring from the safe. Jaw so tight it hurt, he placed it on the nightstand where Delaney would see it upon awakening. He bent and kissed her temple. “Be safe,” he whispered around the choking lump in his throat. “Be happy. Seek out the decent man who loves you, and live a long blessed life.”
He rode the lift downstairs, walked out into the punishing storm. Ceard had taken everything from him…except the all-consuming desire to see justice done. Retribution would keep him going until he drew his final breath.
It would have to be enough.
Rowan strode down the sidewalk without looking back. Sliding his hand into his pocket, he caressed the amulet. And convinced himself the stinging in his eyes, the wetness scalding his cheeks, was merely the rain.
From this moment on, he’d never existed in Delaney’s world.
Chapter 19
Insistent raindrops tapping on the windowpane woke Delaney. She’d had the trippiest dream. Connor had repeatedly texted her from his old cell phone, demanding, “Press one, or two. Press one…or two.” The choice was significant, but he wouldn’t tell her what they were. Or why they were important.
She blinked against meager dawn light that pierced her eyes with icy blades. A headache drummed inside her skull, every muscle knotted with tension. Where was I last night? What was I doing?
Something was terribly wrong. Something was missing.
It was urgent she remember.
Why can’t I remember?
Murky vertigo swamped her, and she pressed unsteady fingertips to her temples. Archer was going out of town for the weekend—the reason was also fuzzy—so they’d celebrated her birthday early. Had she and Van been a tad too enthusiastic with the pomegranate mojitos at Starry Night after her party in the park yesterday?
No, she’d never drink so much that she’d black out.
Zack’s engagement ring sparkling on her nightstand caught her gaze. Everything clicked. Zack. They’d had great fun at the party, just like old times. He’d gifted her with her favorite raspberry truffles and asked her out for coffee. He’d sneaked wistful glances at her the entire day…clearly still in love.
Right. She picked up the ring, climbed out of bed and put it in her purse. She was supposed to go talk to Zack about their future.
He was an early bird, giving her no qualms about phoning him immediately. He’d already been for a run and offered to meet her at a nearby coffee shop, but she preferred the privacy of his apartment for their overdue conversation.
Although a hot shower normally cheered and revived her, this morning the flowing water dragged her into lonesome melancholy. Though she loved bright colors, she chose black skinny jeans, a black turtleneck, and a short black leather jacket, and rejected her new beloved red boots—the sight of which caused an ache in her chest for reasons she didn’t understand—for black ones.
When she left her apartment, misty rain caressing her face made her yearn for something she couldn’t name. Phantom pain left her hollow, as raw and off-balanced as a recent amputee.
Delaney climbed into her GTO. She docked her iPod and cranked up the volume. The poignant lyrics of U2’s “With or Without You” brought suffocating tightness to her throat along with a hot rush of tears.
What the heck is the matter with me?
She sped through deserted storm-washed streets, past the new pizzeria on the corner. She’d bee
n meaning to give it a try, but the innocuous sight of the closed storefront suddenly caused her abdomen to cramp.
Get it together. She couldn’t arrive for the most important discussion of her life shipwrecked.
Delaney spent several minutes in the driveway of Zack’s townhouse forcing slow, deep breaths before she marched up the porch steps to knock.
Zack swung open the door. “Hello, gorgeous. Don’t you look…” His mouth tilted. “Dangerous.”
He looked like a walking felony himself, wearing snug, faded Levi’s and a chocolate brown shirt, with his feet bare and his hair rumpled and damp from the shower.
Her stomach cartwheeled…in trepidation. What? Maybe she was suffering heebie-jeebies after reaching a life-altering conclusion. She followed him into the clean, contemporary living area.
“You want coffee?”
Oddly, she had no appetite for coffee. For anything. But she jumped at the reprieve to marshal her nerves. “Please.”
Her fingers shook as she retrieved the ring from her purse. Clutching it so tightly the pronged diamond pierced her palm, she paced the gleaming bamboo floor until Zack returned.
He handed her a warm mug. “Not complaining, but what brings you here so early? You all right?”
She balanced the cup on a coaster atop a side table. Opened her hand to show him the ring. “I’ve made a decision.”
His features blanked into cop face. Wary, yet hopeful, familiar hazel eyes locked on her. “Okay.”
“Your intentions were noble, although slightly misguided…and a whole lot high-handed. It hurt at the time and I still don’t agree with it, but I understand the decision you made, and why.”
“Walking away from you killed me. I’ve always had your best interests, your wellbeing, as my priority, Lanie.”
“I get that, too. I’m lucky to have people in my life who truly care.”
“You know I do.”
“I don’t doubt our feelings for each other, Zack.” She swallowed hard. “But a revelation hit me this morning. If you’re the one I’m supposed to be with forever…then when you left, I wouldn’t have so easily let you go. Not without a fight. Not without giving blood, sweat and tears. Without giving it my all.”
