Truth Seer (Irish Mystic Legends Book 3)

by Jennifer Rose McMahon

  The Druids were coming for me.

  Their plan left no doubt in my mind that I would be extinguished like the flicker of a struggling flame. Their power was vast beyond compare. Even with the combined force of my gifted family, my doubts continued to run toxic uncertainty through my veins.

  And time was running out. The prophecies were in motion.

  If the nuns on Friar Island reported our disappearance, we'd have the Garda and the witch hunt on our trail again, tripping us up. I couldn't help but guess they would remain quiet about it, though. They’d be too terrified to mention anything of the supernatural encounter they’d had, for fear of being called witches themselves.

  I wrung my hands together in thought and before I realized it, we were in Spiddal pulling down the green road to Ryan’s cottage.

  The priority was to make Jayne comfortable. To assist her in the jarring transition from prison to freedom. It would be a difficult journey for her, one that could take much time, but we would all be there for her.

  It wasn’t all that different from what Maeve was going through. They each had a journey of transition that had turned their worlds upside down.

  Then I remembered the look of shock in Ryan's eyes after he touched her. I needed to know what he saw.

  Did I even want to know?

  Ryan pulled the battered truck in behind the cottage and we all climbed out like a battle-worn army, exhausted but elated from a hard fought victory.

  Once in the cottage, the kettle was fired up and mobile phones were charged.

  "I'll let the boys know we’re back," Maeve mumbled as she plugged her mobile onto its charger.

  She'd been staying in an upstairs flat in Rory’s clan meeting hall, where he and Paul kept regular visits with her. They’d worry if she was out of touch for too long. They knew she was still fragile and did everything they could to help her find her feet. But Paul, in particular, kept constant vigil while taking her for walks in the hills and drives to quaint villages for coffee.

  I glanced around the room and took in the state of us. We were actually all fragile in our own ways.

  Shit.

  I walked Jayne over to the couch and placed a blanket around her shoulders. She cozied into it as Ryan relit the fire in the hearth.

  Maeve and Maureen sat at the table slicing cheese and buttering bread for sandwiches.

  I sank into the couch next to Jayne and closed my eyes for a moment.

  Instantly, my eyes shot open to escape the image that flashed behind my lids, like a shocking flashback or déjà vu.

  It was a man's face. The same one I saw when I was in the car with Maeve, after escaping the swarm from the catacombs.

  I shook my head to clear the image of his stern glare. Hatred poured from his eyes directly into mine. An odd feeling of disturbing familiarity oozed over me and tears of fear stung my eyes.

  And then I knew.

  His murderous gaze had revealed his identity to me.

  He was my stalker.

  The one coming for me.

  Ryan looked at me as he stoked the flames in the hearth, and with that one glance, he shot to full attention. In two steps, he reached me and sat on the couch by my side. He stared into my eyes to understand what had rattled me.

  "Who is that?" His lip curled up in disdain as he saw after-images of the assassin’s face.

  "I'm not sure," I said. "I think he’s one of the ancient Druids. The leader, maybe." I dropped my eyes from his to hide my fear.

  He exhaled as if trying to release the threat of impending doom.

  “I won’t let him get you,” he stated. “I promise.”

  I believed him.

  I knew I could rely on him for anything. And now was the time; we all needed to rely on each other.

  He grabbed my hand.

  "Come on." He shot his eyes over to Jayne, who had fallen fast asleep, and then looked back at me. "Let's get some air."

  He pulled me off the couch and wrapped his arm around me. Glancing back toward the kitchen, he called quietly to Maureen. "We're gonna take a short walk on the beach. Clear our heads."

  Grabbing an extra jacket from a hook by the door, he wrapped it over my shoulders as we stepped out into the night.

  "I needed to get you out of there, Isobel, so I could tell you about Jayne," he said as we walked across the lawn.

  "I know." I nodded. "You saw something in her. But can you wait, just a few more moments? Tell me after our walk. I just want to enjoy the calm with you."

  I squeezed my arm around his waist and soaked in the warmth of his body next to mine.

  Our connection sent his concern and fears into my heart and I pushed him. "Stop!" I said with a shove. "No worries right now. Let's try to hold all that aside and just celebrate that we’re together again."

  He pulled right back to me and wrapped his arms around my shoulders.

  "It's not easy.” He huffed. “I nearly have a nervous twitch with all this shit goin' on. And knowing you snuck back to the tomb with Maeve. Shit, Isobel. How am I supposed to keep you safe?”

  “I know,” I said. “I’m sorry. We were so wrapped up in getting answers and Paul had put all these restrictions on us.” I glanced into his worried eyes again and melted. “Stop. You’re killing me.”

  He turned and pulled me close to him. “Forgiven,” he whispered.

  I felt his heart beating in his chest and I swam in his embrace.

  "We're stronger when we're together, you know," I whispered into his neck. "Like, when we're connected, I feel an energy deep within me that doesn't exist any other time."

  "I know. I feel it too," he said. "I didn't know what it was at first. But now I do." He paused. "I fall in love with you, Isobel. Over and over again. Every time we’re together."

  Oh my god.

  It was more than our gifts combining. It was a force greater than that. One that had the power to start wars, to level cities.

  It was love.

  And maybe it was enough to strengthen our fight.

  I ran my hand along his jawline and rubbed the rough stubble, then let my thumb graze the side of his mouth. His lips quivered from my touch and he bent his head in closer to me. In a gentle graze across my cheek, his mouth found mine and he kissed me.

  The intensity between us grew and became everything I had craved. His lips parted and he kissed me more deeply, pulling me into him with abandon.

  My heart rate soared as his breathing grew heavier. He held me tight and took several steps back while kissing my mouth and my neck. A few more steps and we hit against the side of his shed.

  "Do you want to go in?" he whispered in my ear.

  I nodded. "Yes."

  He fumbled behind him and pulled the door open without breaking his focus on me.

  We entered the shelter of the shed. He closed the door behind us and locked it.

  Turning back to me, he soaked me in with his eyes. His gaze proved he couldn't believe the situation we'd just found ourselves in.

  Alone. For the first time in what felt like forever.

  My eyes moved over him. His flannel shirt under his bomber jacket. His perfectly fitting jeans. His kind eyes and chiseled jawline. I wanted him all over me.

  I stepped closer and reached for him. Within seconds, we were tearing layers off, exposing skin and sending our minds into spiraling overload. Ryan's mouth moved along my neck and the side of my face as one of his hands explored my body and the other reached for his first aid kit that held his secret stash of condoms. His rapid breathing sent excitement through me as I ran my hands along his chest and down his stomach.

  In a race of fumbling and kicking, he pinned me against the wall.

  "Oh my god, Isobel." He panted.

  And then, in a synchronized motion, we connected completely. I pulled him as close as possible and our minds lit up like fireworks. We swam in ecstasy together.

  In a violent quake, our bodies shuddered as our souls fused as one, and then we crumpled to the f
loor in a heap.

  "Holy shit," he mumbled.

  Speechless, I smiled and kissed his face. He wrapped me in his jacket and kissed my mouth.

  "That was nice." I smirked, finally able to muster words.

  The chill of night forced us to get dressed sooner than we would have liked but my bliss wouldn't allow anything to dampen the mood.

  Until Ryan stroked my cheek and looked into my eyes.

  Then familiar terror returned, blasting me away from him.

  "What the fuck was that?" I shouted.

  He averted his eyes with a frown of regret for allowing me to see the thoughts he'd been so carefully suppressing.

  Because right there, behind his protective veil, was Jayne.

  And she was dead.

  She lay in a lifeless heap on the floor, half dressed, with bruises along her neck. The image of her pale, motionless body in Ryan's eyes twisted my stomach and I curled over, dry-heaving.

  "What is that?" I choked through my constricted throat.

  "I'm sorry," Ryan whispered. "I knew it would be a lot for you to take in. I'm not even sure myself what it means."

  I unlocked the shed door and pulled it open, taking a huge breath of fresh air. Then I bent out an inch to peer toward the cottage.

  "I don't understand," I murmured. "She's not dead. What is that image you're seeing?"

  Ryan sat on the stool by his work bench. "When I touched her, at the boat, the image blasted in my mind like a warning. It felt like I'd violated her somehow. Like, maybe, she doesn't even know."

  "Know what?" I stared at him.

  "That she's dead."

  I grabbed the sides of my head and pulled at my hair. "No! That's not possible!" I argued through clenched teeth. "She's more alive than anyone I've ever met." I glanced back toward the cottage in disbelief as terror churned in my veins. “She’s not dead, Ryan. You can see that, right?”

  He nodded. “Yeah, I know. She’s here. Living. Somehow.”

  “So she’s not…fully dead?” I guessed. “And we need to save her from this…this limbo.”

  The word sent a shudder through me, reminding me of our time trapped on the island. It had been a limbo, too.

  “It’s like her soul was taken, and her body was left barely alive,” Ryan mumbled. “Then sent to the institution to rot.”

  “Or hidden there,” I added. “Whoever did that to her, hid her away to cover up their evil.”

  Was it even possible that someone could do that to her? Jayne didn't have much memory of how she ended up at the prison for wayward girls but I assumed that was from her own suppression of the bad memories. Maybe she truly didn't remember all the details. They were too horrific.

  But then I remembered her warning at the beach. She said she hadn’t told me everything about herself. She had something more to tell me.

  "Don't say anything about it to anyone," I said to Ryan. "Not until we know what the hell is going on. I mean, how do you tell someone they're dead, or half-dead anyway?"

  The more I thought about it, the more it made sense. Her zombie-like state at the institution was more than the meds. It was her condition. Walking death.

  A shudder of horror ran through me.

  "Shit,” I murmured. “She's probably suspected it more than once, I bet. It’s the same thing as death, being trapped in such a hell hole."

  And it was a hell hole. That institution was worse than death, knowing a full life was just across the sea. I thought back to Jayne's comments from the past and recalled her saying, more than once, that she was doomed to forever exist in that wretched misery.

  Now I understood her words meant more. She was truly stuck in limbo, trapped between life and death. And it was now my unwavering mission to restore her life to her. Fully.

  More than just a prison break, I needed to find her soul.

  I knew something was missing when I stared into her eyes back at the island. Something was lost. I just had no idea it could be that.

  "Come on." I pulled the shed door open. "Let's get back to them. I feel like we all need to stick close together. From here forward."

  We followed the thick scent of the coal fire along the lawn to the front door of the cottage. The glow of the lights inside showed us the way as we moved through the darkness. It would likely be morning soon.

  Entering the cottage, I saw Jayne sleeping soundly on the couch. She'd stretched out and was covered in blankets. Maureen sent a warm smile at her and waved us over to join herself and Maeve at the table.

  They had paper and pencils out with several sketches of ancient language scrawled on the pages.

  "We're makin' progress here with deciphering the remaining prophecies," Maureen stated. "Maeve's got good knowledge of the language and well, these predictions have been hinted at in the ancient Book of Druids too. They're a near perfect match. And the key to proving your discovery is real."

  Ryan and I pulled chairs in closer and leaned over their work.

  "So, how many are there? Do we know how much time we have?" I turned one of the pages for a better look. "Do we know what the next one will be?" My questions flew in rapid fire.

  Maeve looked up and held my gaze. "There are seven in total, the final being the eclipse. The remaining four can be taken literally or symbolically. We just can't be sure."

  "Judging by the first two, the swarm and the hail storm, I'm thinking literal is a good bet," I said.

  "I don't know. Some of them aren't as clear as that." Maeve moved a different page closer to me and pointed to it. "This appears to be the third prophecy."

  I stared at the sheet and its cryptic symbols. "What does it say?"

  Maeve tapped her pencil on the table in thought and then glanced at the page again.

  "It follows the destruction of heaven. The shattering of the heavens above," she started.

  "The hail." Ryan stated.

  "Yes," Maeve agreed. "And thus upon the destruction of heaven, a soul-less being of decades past will become known, wandering among the living in search of salvation.” She paused, noticing our frozen faces.

  I sat up straight as a gasp escaped my lips. Ryan bent forward and stared at Maeve, waiting for more information.

  "Soul-less being of decades past?” I repeated. “What the hell does that mean?”

  Her eyebrows pulled together. “Basically, someone who hadn’t crossed over at the time of their death. They’ve wandered the earth in silence. But now, their presence will be revealed.”

  “Like a zombie?” Ryan blurted out.

  Maeve smirked. “No, Ryan. Sorry.” She huffed, then got serious again. “Like an empty vessel doomed to roam the earth, lost, forever. Once the soul-less being is recognized, it is the third sign."

  My hand flew to my mouth as I turned and looked directly at Jayne.

  Chapter 8

  Maeve's gaze tracked mine and landed on Jayne too. Her head jolted back to me with wide-eyed questioning, but in her heart, she already knew. She knew there was something unusual about Jayne. And now, the sorrow in my eyes gave it all away.

  Jayne was the symbol of the third prophecy. A newly discovered soul-less being, left out of heaven, unable to cross over. Doomed to wander, unknowingly dazed through time.

  Had we been drawn to each other on the island because of this? Maybe there was a deeper connection within us that spanned through time. Through the prophecies.

  I prayed that my proximity to Jayne at the institution had nothing to do with her ‘condition’. If I had any responsibility or cause in it, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.

  My breath stuck in my chest as I processed Jayne's situation. The sight of her body in Ryan's vision, with hand marks across her throat, haunted me. She'd been choked. Somehow she'd been sent to the institution then, to rot away her timeless years in walking death.

  I needed to find out what happened to her. Maybe, if I understood her situation better, I could help.

  I gazed at Jayne in peaceful slumber on the couch
and then looked at the others. Maureen’s eyelids hung low with exhaustion but Maeve and Ryan were still on high alert.

  "We must find a way to stop the prophecies from continuing," I blurted out. "If we break the chain, we could stop the curse. And maybe, it would change Jayne's fate as well."

  Everyone turned to me and listened.

  I continued. “So, Ryan and I are fairly certain that Jayne is…” I couldn’t say it. I didn’t want to admit that she might be dead. I just didn’t believe it to be true. Half-dead? Maybe. So I chose my words cautiously. “…soul-less.”

  Maureen and Maeve barely flinched. They’d pieced it together through observation and intuition.

  I nodded and went on.

  "If the prophecies were stopped, and the heavens opened up again, then maybe we could find Jayne's lost soul." I paused. "And return it to her before it crosses over fully."

  Everyone stared, speechless.

  Stopping the prophecies would benefit every soul from this point forward, not just Jayne’s, but my focus remained on our immediate mission.

  "So, what's the next prophecy?" I shot my attention to Maeve.

  She snapped her eyes away from me and blinked. "Um, well, there are three left now. Before the eclipse." She glanced at her notes on the papers. "They're not as obvious as the first ones. And the lines are deeply blurred between science and religion. It's just so hard to predict their message."

  "Just try!" I begged.

  She moved her finger along the papers and tapped a specific symbol. "It's like the wrath of God. Sending judgment upon man. An innocent person. Dying for the word of God."

  I stumbled back from the table. It was too much to take. The wrath of God. Heaven closing its doors. I'd left religion so far behind me that I couldn't even breathe right with all the recent talk of its power.

  "No." I pressed my hands to my ears. "I don't believe in all that. These prophecies were written before science was understood. That’s why there’s so much talk of God and heaven.” I pulled my hands back through my hair. “Celestial events can be predicted scientifically now. Plagues and strange weather patterns can be explained through data and statistical studies. I just can't get my head around the religious parts of this stuff."