When the imagery finally stopped, Judith smiled again. "My history. Our people's history. Now it is yours, Kerry Logan. May the gods bless you and give you long life."
The Dame's wounded body was wracked with another spasm of pain, clouding her expression once again. "Where's Ranulf? I must set him free of his oath to me… served me so well… not fair to him." She grasped Kerry's hand in a painful grip, her gaze desperate. "Tell him I was proud to call him friend."
Kerry blinked back her tears. "I'm sure he knows, Judith, but I'll tell him you said so."
The light in Judith's eyes dimmed. "Sandor will have a hard time with all of this… Bradan… and especially your love with Ranulf… Takes a strong woman to convince a strong man that he needs her…" She coughed and drew a ragged breath, then tried again. "Needs you more than his freedom."
Then there was silence. Tears burned acid hot as Kerry eased Judith down to the floor, closing the faded blue eyes with a gentle touch. Bowing her head, she prayed for Judith and so many things.
When she whispered "Amen," she sat in silence for several seconds before realizing that the whole house was silent. Had the fight ended? Dear God, please let my Talions be all right.
Grabbing hold of Judith's talisman, she charged to the rescue. As she rounded the corner, she came to an abrupt halt.
The three men were locked together in a battle to the death, so entwined that it was impossible to tell where one ended and the next began. Kerry circled around the tangle, looking for an opening, some way to help her friends without breaking their concentration.
It was obvious that Bradan was on the losing end. Sandor had his hands around Bradan's throat and face, his expression grim. Ranulf had talked of stripping a renegade of his energy, but hearing about it and seeing it happen right before her were two different things.
The skin on Bradan's face had drawn so tight that he looked like a skull stripped down to bone, his lips pulled back over his teeth, his jaw locked open in a silent scream.
"Damn it, Sandor, let me finish it!" Ranulf was bruised and cut, but he seemed unaware of the blood dripping down his cheek as he tried to pry Sandor away from Bradan.
"Mine, damn it. He killed Judith!" Sandor shouldered Ranulf aside. "He deserves to suffer like his victims did."
"No, Sandor! He deserves to die, but make it swift and clean. You'll hate yourself for what you're doing."
But Sandor's eyes glowed and flickered with sparks of deep red. Energy pulsed and writhed across his hands and up his arms, leaving smoking black streaks in its wake. The sight of it flickering under his skin left Kerry feeling nauseated and dizzy.
Bradan's death stretched out for an eternity. His skin slowly lost all color, his bones their substance, until finally all that was holding him up was Sandor's death-giving hold on him. Finally, the last of his breath left his body in a single rush of smoke and air.
He was dead—the enemy vanquished. All that was left was an empty shell that collapsed in on itself when Ranulf finally succeed in prying Bradan's skull from Sandor's grip.
Sandor's dark eyes were wild and unfocused, as if he no longer recognized his surroundings. He held his hands up in front of his face, grief slowly combining with horror across his face.
Ranulf caught him in his arms, holding him close as Sandor's body shook from the effects of what he'd done.
"Get the door." Ranulf muscled Sandor up into his arms. "We need to get him out of here."
Kerry gestured in the direction of the kitchen. "But what about—"
Ranulf shook his head. "I'll come back later, but we need to get Sandor out of here now."
She opened the door. "Go ahead. I'll be right behind you."
"Make it quick or I'll come drag you out." His words were gruff, but the worry was real.
"Five minutes, I promise."
As soon as he hauled Sandor through the door, Kerry hurried through the house turning off lights. The last thing they needed was for it to act like a beacon.
She left the stove light on in the kitchen, not wanting to leave Judith alone in the cold, dark night. After saying another small prayer, she hurried out the front door.
They'd fought the battle they'd come to fight. Now it was time to mourn their dead and move on.
And say good-bye to the one man she'd give anything to spend her life with.
The trip through the woods had been a rough one. The battle had left Sandor weak and sick at his stomach. After stopping twice for him to heave up the remains of his dinner, they'd finally made it back to Ranulf's house. They'd headed straight for the bathroom.
"Damn it, Sandor, stand up."
Ranulf wanted to smack the man, but it was no fun beating up on someone who was already being harder on himself than Ranulf could possibly be. The killing rage that had possessed Sandor had worn off, leaving him badly shaken by what he'd done.
"Brush your teeth and do whatever else you need to do. I'll wait in the hallway."
He was still waiting for Kerry to get back from Bradan's. She'd promised to be only a few minutes, but the five she'd promised had already stretched to double that. If she didn't show up soon, he was going to go back after her.
What had been so damned important that she'd lingered at Bradan's house of pain and death? Judith. That had to be it, because it had damned near killed him to leave the Grand Dame behind. He reached out with his senses, and felt Kerry's approach. Something about her felt different, but familiar at the same time. What was up with that?
The bathroom door opened, and Sandor came lurching out. Ranulf quickly pulled the younger man's arm around his neck and helped him put one foot in front of the other until they reached the living room. He slowly lowered Sandor onto the couch and covered him up with the same quilt Kerry had used earlier.
"Thanks, Ranulf." Sandor covered his eyes with his forearm, shutting out the dim light in the room. "I owe you."
"No, you don't. We were there to do a job, and we did it. Nothing more, nothing less." He fought the urge to pat Sandor's shoulder, knowing the man wasn't ready to accept sympathy yet.
"Bradan deserved to die, but—"
The front door opened, and Kerry stepped into the room. She looked like hell, but just the sight of her soothed Ranulf's soul. Her heart and her courage humbled him.
Sandor rolled on his side toward the back of the couch.
Kerry tiptoed past the couch after giving Sandor a worried look. "Is he okay?"
"Not yet, but he will be. He's a Talion for good reason." Ranulf pitched his voice loud enough to carry. Sandor wasn't ready to talk about the evening's events, but eventually he would have to come to grips not with what he'd done but how he'd done it. Hopefully he would be strong enough to live with that burden.
Kerry's eyes looked unutterably sad, the color in her face washed out.
He needed to hold her. "I don't know about you, but I think we should all get some rest."
Especially with her tucked in next to him. He was almost afraid to ask, because she'd finally seen him at his worst. He'd give anything to know what she was thinking.
She knelt by Sandor. The Talion tried to bat her hand away, but she forced him to accept her gift of healing energy. It didn't take long.
Rising to her feet, she finally came close enough to Ranulf to lay her hand against his face. A surge of healing warmth washed over him. He should've stopped her from wasting her depleted reserves, but right then he needed her touch, even if she treated him with the same clinical detachment as she had Sandor. That hurt, but he understood.
Finally, he said, "Look, you can have my room. I'll bed down out here on the floor where I can keep an eye on Sandor."
Kerry frowned, but all she said was, "Come get me if you need me."
Her words confused him. Of course he needed her. He watched her walk out of the room, ripping his heart out as she went. While she showered, he reestablished his wards and moved around in the kitchen, too skittish to settle down. Dark energy always had that effect on h
im. After Kerry finally left the bathroom, he took a shower before heading straight back into the living room.
"I don't need a babysitter, Ranulf." Sandor lifted his head long enough to glare at him. "Quit being so damned noble, and go to her. If you let her slip away now, you're a bigger damn fool than I've always thought you were." Then the weary Talion yanked the quilt over his head and curled in on himself.
Sandor was right: he was being a fool. This could be his only chance to convince Kerry that he could never let her go back down that mountain alone. Still, it was her choice to make, and this was the toughest mission he'd ever faced. The bedroom door was closed, but he didn't knock before entering the room. Feeling as if he was about to plunge off a cliff onto the rocks below, he braced himself.
"Kerry, I need you."
She was waiting for him in the bed, with a soft smile and sad eyes. "Took you long enough."
As soon as he took a stumbling step toward her, she held back the cover in invitation. He didn't have to be asked twice. She met him in the middle, with a kiss that healed his heart and inflamed his passion at the same time.
"Will you love me tonight?" Her smile was tentative.
"That's not nearly long enough," he told her firmly. "I'm going to love you the rest of your life."
She blinked twice, clearly not believing what she was hearing. "Judith shared herself with me tonight, Ranulf. I have all her memories locked in my mind, including how she's used you all these years. I can't walk away from my responsibilities, especially now that I know how badly I'm needed."
She took a deep breath and gave him a ragged smile. "Looks like I'm going to be the new Dame. You've already served our people for a thousand years. I won't ask you to do that again."
Once again, this little slip of a woman was trying to protect him. The beauty of her generous heart stole his breath.
"The difference is that this time I'll be serving my wife, not just my ruler. If you'll have me."
There was hope in her eyes, however tentative. "But I thought you wanted to live up here on the mountain?"
"I do, but I figure we can add a few guest rooms and spend weekends and holidays up here." Then he kissed her, deepening it until they were both breathless with need. "Now—we can talk some more, or we can find something else to do in this bed. Your choice."
"That's easy. I choose you."
And she did.
Epilogue
Kerry held her hand out to Sandor. "Dance with me?"
He clearly wanted to refuse her, but she would have none of it.
"Must I remind you that it's my wedding day, buster, and everything has to go my way? So I'm sorry, but you can't say no. It's just not done." She gave him her haughtiest look, but spoiled it with a giggle.
He gave her a ghost of a smile as he swept her up into his arms. Even depressed, he could outdance almost anyone else she knew.
As they made their first turn around the floor, Sandor asked, "And what about your new husband? Doesn't he object to you dancing with other men— especially me?"
"Probably, but he's going to have me all to himself up on his mountain soon enough. For now, he can share."
The band played a waltz as she had requested, giving her a chance to talk to her Talion warrior. Sandor had changed drastically since the night Judith died; he never laughed and rarely smiled.
When the music ended, she led him from the floor and out into Judith's garden. "We need to talk."
"Now? Maybe I should remind you that it's your wedding day. Surely you have more important things to do than worry about me."
"No, I don't. You're my Chief Talion, Sandor. I need you. Our people need you."
His face twisted in pain. "I don't know if I can do it, Kerry, even for you. How can I face Ranulf, day after day? How many years did I misjudge him? We both know Judith sent him after all those renegades not just because he was strong enough to do the job but because he could do so without compromising his honor. I don't have his strength, and I have no honor left. Not after I let Bradan get to Judith, and then took pleasure in killing him. That makes me no better than he was.
"And do you know what's worse?" He turned away from her. "I still feel the black energy curled up deep inside of me, just waiting for a chance to take over. If that happens again, I could turn renegade myself. What if you had to order my death? I won't risk causing you such pain."
"The answer is simple: It will never happen." Ranulf strolled in the door, looking every bit the warrior even in his tux. "If you were like Bradan, you wouldn't feel the way you do now. That awareness proves the strength of your honor. I would be proud to fight with you at my side again any day."
Kerry beamed up at her husband as he wrapped his arms around her from behind. She was counting the minutes until they could start the honeymoon, but she still had business with Sandor.
She gave him a stern look. "Here are your first orders from me, Talion. When I return, I want you to have a plan drawn up for training more Talions. No single person should bear the burden of policing our people."
She waited until he reluctantly nodded. "And I had to come from somewhere. I want you to track down my family. Find out if there are more like me out there."
He shook his head. "I appreciate the faith you have in me, but I don't think I'm the best one for the job."
"I know you are, Sandor." She gave him a teasing smile. "Don't argue with your ruler at her wedding. Now tell me you'll do it, so I can have one last dance with this handsome Viking."
Sandor bowed slightly. "Very well, Dame Kerry; I'll do as you ask. Now if you'll excuse me."
As he walked away, Ranulf squeezed her tight.
"That was well done. At least now he has a purpose to his days. That will help."
She turned in his arms. "And what can I come up with for you to do?"
He laughed down at her. "Don't worry, I have plenty of ideas about how to keep both of us busy tonight. Now, wife, let's go have that dance."
Turn the page for a sneak peak at the next book in
Alexis Morgan's Paladins series,
DARKNESS UNKNOWN!
Coming in February 2009 from Pocket Star Books
Consciousness came burning back, jerking Jarvis out of the deep sleep his body demanded for healing. With it came the familiar surge of anger, coupled with a heightened awareness of being alive. His skin burned and hurt, as if it were too small to contain him any longer. Old habits had him twisting and turning to break free of his bonds; he hated being tied down, and hated the need for it even more.
But something was different. Waking up unable to move was hardly a new experience, but he was used to the cold stainless steel under his back, not soft, sun-dried sheets. He tried to move his sword arm, but couldn't budge it more than an inch or two. Same with his left.
His legs were bound, too—but with rope rather than the security straps and chains his Handlers used. What was going on? Keeping his eyes shut, he reached out with his other senses.
There were other heartbeats in the room, two of which weren't human. The good news was that they weren't Others. The third heartbeat was definitely human, and from the faint scent of floral perfume, it was most likely a woman's.
Where the hell was he, if he wasn't dead and he wasn't in the lab?
His last clear memory was the nightmare realization that he was about to die at the hands of a rogue mob of Others. Everything after that was a complete blank.
He opened one eye to assess his situation. A ceiling fan whirred softly overhead.
To the right was an old-fashioned oak dresser and a wall covered in floral striped wallpaper. Careful not to make any sudden moves, he slowly looked to his other side and hit pay dirt.
A woman lay sprawled in a chair in the corner. She couldn't possibly be comfortable with her neck bent like that, but it clearly hadn't interfered with her ability to sleep. Who was she?
He'd always been a sucker for redheads, especially the ones with fair skin and a few freckles thro
wn in for extra interest. He grinned, willing to bet she hated each and every one of them.
He studied her face, liking what he saw. What color were her eyes? He was betting on green, or maybe a rich chocolate brown. Her hands looked strong and capable, and she wasn't wearing a wedding ring—although that didn't always mean anything. Not that it mattered. Once she cut him free, he'd leave, never to darken her doorway again. And that was a damn shame. He wouldn't mind a romp in this bed with her.
Then he noted the rifle within easy reach of her chair. She'd been smart enough to tie him down, and he bet she knew how to use it. A bullet from a twenty-two wouldn't kill him, but it would hurt like hell. And if she hit a vital spot, it would definitely slow him down.
He shifted slightly, causing the bed to creak. Immediately there was the sound of claws scrabbling on a wooden floor, and two furry heads popped up over the edge of the bed. The dogs were well-mannered enough not to jump up with him, but they whined and looked back at their owner as if trying to figure out what to do next.
The woman went from sound asleep to wide awake in a heartbeat. She jerked upright, her eyes wide and a little scared. Then she reached out to reassure her guardians.
"Down, boys. He doesn't need you in his face."
The animals immediately disappeared from view.
If she'd been pretty while asleep, she was stunning wide awake. And he'd been right the first time: her eyes were bright green with flecks of gold in them. And right now they were focused on him with sharp intelligence.
"Good morning, Mr. Donahue."
How the hell did she know his name? Then he spied his wallet on the small table next to the chair. She'd rifled through his things?
He let a little temper show in his words. "You seem to have me at a disadvantage, Mrs…"
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