by Rhodan, Rhea
“They’ll be comin’ to fetch me before long.” She turned back to him. “Now then, when the blood meets the amulet, they’ll take each others’ magic.”
“So if I pour the blood over amulet…?”
“You’ll be free. Free of all that holds you: the Cumberlands, the Crossing, and your destiny. The ring will find its own way back.” Her eyes rested on his hand.
“You haven’t told me how you know all this. You’ve been in a coma.”
“I have been in the Shadows wardin’ the Crossing, not under a rock, lad. It’s my place she’s taken there when her blood was spilled in the fire for the rite. ’Tis not the proper way. But the Crossing must have a warder.”
He was sick to hell of the damn Crossing. “Why? Sure, there’s power, a lot of power. But I don’t see why Cayden should have to sacrifice her life.”
“This world cannot afford to lose even one wee drop of love or faith or hope. That’s the true power of a Crossing. It flows quiet in the darkest hour to any who’ll accept it. ’Tis for receiving, not for taking. And you have seen what some will do to have it for their own.” She looked at his ring again. “You ken the truth when you hear it.”
As she said the words, he registered the full meaning of them and recognized their verity. “You mean Cayden’s stuck there? What about our baby?”
“The bairn can stay safe and warm till her time and then be brought into this world while her mother sleeps. And sleep in the Shadows she will, until the next warder can take her place.”
His chest felt like it was being crushed between two concrete beams. His daughter would live and grow, but without her mother. “No. I refuse to accept nothing can be done. What good is all of the magic, all of this power, if it can’t bring her back?”
Aileen reached over to brush a tangled curl off Cayden’s ashen face and turned fierce and somehow familiar, bright blue eyes on him. “Have you not just told me you want nothing to do with any of it? You’ve done your part. Not so well as you might have, nor so poorly, either. But done it, you have.”
What he’d had was more than enough of this. “I thought you heard, or saw, or whatever, everything that happened up there tonight. Or didn’t you hear me tell the Cumberlands I am fed up with being used?”
“Well, we’re very sorry to have troubled you, Mr. MacAllen.” As tiny and frail as she was in the wheelchair, when Aileen Buchanan straightened up and glared at him, he took a step back. “If you don’t like where you find your feet, you have had, and made, a choice every step on the road that brought you to it. A road with warnings and signs, had your eyes been open to see them.”
Her anger was greater comfort than her kindness had been. “I know. God, how I know. What I don’t know is how to live with it. I’d do anything to go back and change it, anything to have Cayden open her eyes.”
“Anythin’?”
Something in the way those eyes of hers narrowed on him sparked hope. “There’s a way, isn’t there? What do I have to do? Whatever it is—”
There was a knock at the door. One look at who walked in after it gave him an even bigger surprise than the current visitor had.
“Mom? Dad?”
“We came as soon as we could.” His mother said, breathing hard.
His father stood behind her, his arms folded, wearing a typical, vaguely disapproving, expression.
“But how did you know?”
She pressed her lips together and handed him one of his old shirts freshly pressed on a hanger, as if that explained it. Her scowl turned to a timid smile. “You must be Dr. Buchanan. Forgive my son, he seems to have mislaid his manners.”
Clint made introductions before he repeated his question.
His mother leaned down to kiss Cayden on the forehead before answering. “I had another one of my dreams. The worst I’ve ever had. I was worried. Since you wouldn’t answer your phone, I…well, I hoped I was wrong, but I called the hospital anyway. When they told me you’d been treated and Cayden was in serious condition, I knew I wasn’t mistaken. How is she?”
He closed his eyes in shame. He knew what she knew. The shirt did explain it. His only consolation was whatever she’d told his father, it couldn’t have been everything. Because if she had, as close-mouthed as he usually was, he’d have plenty to say right now.
Just when Clint didn’t think it could get worse, Cayden’s parents burst through the door.
Muriel Sinclair took one look at her daughter lying unconscious in the hospital bed and said, “Why hasn’t anyone washed off that hideous makeup? She looks ghastly.”
Todd Sinclair wrinkled his tanned nose. “I don’t know, she looks pretty much the same to me, Muffy.”
Clint’s own mother’s mouth was open. His father’s lips were so tight they were turning white. There was nothing vague about his disapproval any more.
Aileen Buchanan spun around in her wheelchair. “If that and more like it is all you two have to offer, you can turn around and go on back the way you came. Cayden and the bairn need love, not your poor excuse for it.”
“Mother, you’re awake! How wonderful. Is it necessary for you to speak with that, that accent? It’s worse than ever.”
“It does a body good to ken where it came from. You’d do well to remember that, daughter.” She was stating more than the obvious. Cayden had mentioned her mother using magic to snag her husband, then turning her back on it.
“Now just a minute. Am I to infer Cayden’s pregnant?” Todd sighed, eyeing Clint. “I assume you’re the father? Don’t think this will get you any closer to my bank account.”
“Of course not, dear. She’ll get rid of it as soon—”
Clint jumped to his feet. “No, she won’t. That’s my daughter you’re discussing. That baby is wanted. Not for money—” he looked at Todd Sinclair and wondered how he ever could have thought he wanted to be that guy “—and not for what she may accomplish in the future, Aileen. This baby is wanted because I love her mother.”
If he hadn’t quite realized it before he’d said it, it didn’t make it any less true. He squeezed Cayden’s hand and lowered his voice, “I love her, and everything that’s part of her.”
He was glad he’d eased the shirt on over his bandages before the exchange because they were all staring at him now. His mother, his father too, with approval, the Sinclairs with displeasure. It was Aileen’s backing he required. He was sure that before everyone had arrived, she’d been ready to tell him there was a way to bring Cayden back.
His mother spoke first, still smiling. “Well, I’m happy that’s settled. You didn’t mean what you said, about wanting Cayden to get rid of the baby, did you, Mrs. Sinclair? I understand it’s quite a shock, but…”
Cayden’s mother lifted her neatly groomed eyebrows. “So you knew. When did she tell you?” She let out a little sigh that might have indicated hurt in another woman. He was no expert, but Clint had yet to see evidence she had the sort of feelings which would allow for that.
His mother had lost her smile and looked distinctly uncomfortable. “She didn’t. I had a dream.”
Muriel Sinclair’s next sigh could have been taught in acting school on how to sound stuck up, along with the eye-rolling. “Oh Lord, another one. Just what this family needs.”
Instantly, Clint’s father put his arm around his wife. His expression made it clear to everyone in the room what he thought of “this family.” Both of his parents looked at Cayden with fresh sympathy.
Clint had always prided himself on tamping down his temper. If he hadn’t succeeded tonight, well, it was because no more nails were left in that gun. “This is unbelievable. What in the hell is wrong with you people? Your daughter is lying here unconscious. She may never wake up. You get that, right? And this is the kind of shit you want to talk? Really? No wonder Cayden doesn’t want any
thing to do with you. You know what? No matter what happens, if you ever so much as want a photo of this child, you’d better—”
He wasn’t aware he was yelling until Todd Sinclair’s cultured voice interrupted him. “Mr. and Mrs. MacAllen?” Apparently, he’d finally deigned to notice them, or maybe he was trying to diffuse the situation before Clint tossed him and his wife out the door. “Perhaps it would be best if you remove your son. Try to help him understand I could never allow a Sinclair to grow up under your circumstances. With his limited resources, he couldn’t hope to win a custody battle against us. Engaging in one would certainly bankrupt him and his company. I would see to it personally.”
Well, that answered that. Todd was not interested in peacemaking. “Try me. I’ll fight you to my last penny and beyond because you’re the last people on earth Cayden would want to raise our child.”
He was definitely shouting when two nurses walked in, and they didn’t look happy. The larger one informed them they would all have to leave and held the door. She smiled apologetically at Clint as he passed and told him he could come back later. The other fussed over Aileen and began wheeling her down the hall.
He took long strides to catch up. “Wait, you have to tell me how—”
“Aye, now that I ken you have the will for it.”
The nurse pushing the wheelchair said, “Clint, right? Sandy down in ER told me about you. Look, I know you’ve been through a lot, but Aileen shouldn’t be out of bed, much less visiting.” They were pulling up to the elevator bank, where one of the doors was open.
“Quick. What do I have to do?”
Aileen frowned at the nurse. “She’ll hear, and there’s no help for it. ’Tis not as if she’ll ken what to do with it.” She locked those intense eyes on him. “Your blood for Cayden’s in the fire that burns, and your oath to Keep her and the Crossing to your last breath. Have a care with it, or you’ll find yourself lost in the Shadows as well.”
Aileen was already in the elevator and the nurse was blocking him. Shit. “But I don’t know how to do this.”
Her voice drifted through the closing doors. “Love’s the real magic, Keeper. Just hold to it with both hands and all your heart.”
“What I can’t understand is how two such unfeeling people could have raised such a warm and loving daughter.” Clint’s mom was shaking her head while talking to his dad when he caught up to them in the hospital lobby. “I’m sorry I encouraged her to mend any fences that might protect her from them.”
Clint said, “Well, I don’t think they actually raised her. They fed and clothed her, and paid other people to keep an eye on her. If it wasn’t for her grandmother, it would have been a lot worse.”
His dad stopped and put his hand on Clint’s arm. “If it comes to that, we’d help you raise your daughter, fight for her, too. Mr. High and Mighty Sinclair might not want his grandchild to be poor, but I’ll not have mine grow up in a house with those two. I don’t care how big and fancy it is.”
It was the opening he’d hoped for. “Dad, I wanted to tell you… I saw the cabinets you put in over there. Whenever I need that kind of work done, I know who to call. Cayden loved them, too. I was wrong to be ashamed you worked there. I was wrong about a lot of things.”
“Glad to hear you finally got your priorities straight.” His dad briefly clasped his shoulder.
His mom said, “Why don’t you come home and rest for a while? We can all eat a nice breakfast. I have some salve that’ll help those burns, too. You can get some rest before you go back to the hospital.”
“Sounds great, but I spoke with Aileen a few minutes ago. There’s a way for me to bring Cayden back. If you saw what happened tonight up at Buchanan’s Crossing, then you know… How much do you know?”
His dad made his trademark, “Hmph,” and shifted his feet, clearly not happy with the direction of the conversation.
“Who do you think gave Cayden that amulet? It’s not some simple good luck charm.” His mom gave her husband an indulgent smile. “I’m sorry, Lewis, if this is—how do those business types put it?—outside your comfort zone. We’ll be right back there in a minute, dear.”
While Clint was busy trying to see his mom in this new light, she went on. “One thing you have to understand is that anything powerful enough to bring Cayden back is going to need the very best of you. There’ll be a risk as well, a large one. It’s the way of magic. I believe in you, so I don’t know that I’d stop you if I could. I’m not going to try. I am going to insist, for Cayden’s sake as well as your own, that you eat and rest before you go back there. I’ll not lose my son for want of a decent breakfast and a few hours sleep. Besides, the moon will be new tonight. It has a power of its own.”
God knew he was beat. He wasn’t sure if he was hungry though, which told him how freaked out he was. He’d just agreed to meet his parents at their home when he saw Dean Cumberland limp through the revolving doors.
His mom must have followed his eyes, because her gentle face turned hard. “We’ll be leaving now. I’ve spent all the time today I care to with people I don’t think much of.” She pulled his dad toward a side door and called over her shoulder, “Your breakfast will dry out if it sits in the oven long, and don’t get any blood on that fresh shirt.”
While he was deciding whether to drag Dean out in the parking lot or finish where he’d left off right here, their gazes locked across the lobby. A jolt of realization rocked him. Aileen Buchanan’s bright blue eyes were a perfect match for Dean’s. The resemblance was so striking, he was amazed he hadn’t noticed earlier. It certainly explained Aileen’s sympathy for Dean. He should have put it together from the things Milton had said, but he’d been so distracted by everything else going on.
Dean’s head dropped, but not so fast Clint didn’t notice something else. Dean was scared.
Good, he should be. Clint was standing in front of him before Dean had hobbled four steps into the hospital. And that was as close to Cayden as he was going to get, particularly since Clint couldn’t be around to protect her while he took care of business at the Crossing.
“For such a smart man, you’re sure doing a lot of dangerously stupid shit tonight. Now, unless you want to become a long-term patient at some other hospital—because you’re sure as hell not staying here—you’ll turn right around, put your ragged ass back into your shiny limo, and get as far away from me as you can.”
Up close, Dean’s fear was even more evident. There was pain there, too, and raw guilt. He tilted his fuzzy little head up, eyes full of tears. “I want to see my mother, and Cayden. How is Cayden? And the baby? Oh God, what have I done?” Then he broke down and started bawling.
Jesus. What was he supposed to do now? Clint closed his tired eyes and listened to the sobs for a minute before hauling Dean by the elbow to a bank of chairs and shoving him into one.
“You can’t meet your mother looking like something the cat dragged in.” Which he did. His face was clean and his ribs had obviously been wrapped, but in addition to the serious limp, his mouth was swollen and he was wearing the same suit, minus the torn jacket and half the buttons on his shirt. That someone as meticulous as Dean was wandering around in public as he was said a lot about his state of mind. “Where’s your father? Milt didn’t look so good last time I saw him.”
Clint was thankful he’d asked. Dean blinked and straightened. Concentrating on the question was forcing him to pull his shit together, thank God. When he did speak, Dean’s voice was flat; it had lost all of its smooth. “I left him in the Hartford ER. I won’t be going back. Before I left, one of the doctors told me the preliminary diagnosis was some type of seizure, possibly brought on by an allergic reaction to the cat scratches. There’s no chance of mental recovery, given his rapidly declining physical condition. He’ll spend the time he has left in a full-care facility.”
“Can�
��t say I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Neither was I.” Dean groped for a hankie, apparently having forgotten he wasn’t wearing a jacket, then scrubbed his eyes with his fists. “It’s my mother and Cayden I’m worried about. Clint, I… It was an instinctive reaction when she stabbed me. I never meant to hurt her. I was trying to save her life. You have to believe me.”
“Yeah, well, that would be a helluva lot easier if you hadn’t hired those thugs to kill her.” So what if he was fishing? It was only fair, since he’d been on the Cumberlands’ hook from the start.
“I-I didn’t want to, even then. My father persuaded me it was necessary.”
Cayden had tried to tell him. He’d thought she was just being dramatic. One more thing to feel shitty about.
“How is she? If she’s hurt, if she loses the baby, I don’t know what I’ll do. She’s my niece, for goodness’ sake. The good side of my blood. If there’s anything, anything at all I can do… I’ll cover all of the expenses, of course. We’ll get specialists, additional care, a private clinic, whatever she needs.”
“Your money can’t fix this.”
Dean’s head dropped in his hands, and Clint was afraid the little man was going to start crying again, and more than a little worried he might join him. “The baby will be fine.”
“Are you sure? How do you know? And Cayden?” Dean’s head had come back up. He was blinking up a storm, a little too hopefully.
Clint wasn’t about to let him off that lightly. “Not so good. Aileen said—”
“She’s awake?” Dean’s freckled face lit up, his fat lips on the verge of cracking, then fell just as fast. “She’s my mother, you know.”
Clint nodded.
“Did you tell her about me?” His eyes started filling again. “What if she doesn’t want to see me? The things I’ve done; how can she not hate me?”
