“Look, I don’t know what all you overheard, but there are things I haven’t explained. There’s more to that scroll than what we—”
Reese held up her hand, silencing him. “I don’t know what this scroll means, or exactly how it helps you. I also don’t know how I fell in love with you so quickly, but I did. And because of that, because this means so much to you…” She took a deep breath and pressed the rolled up parchment against his chest. “Just take it. All you needed to do was tell me it was important to you, in the first place.”
As his hands slowly closed around the scroll, she turned away, unable to look him in the eyes and witness possible rejection. “I’d like to go to a hotel, please. You all can do whatever it is you need to do. Then maybe, when that’s all done with, we could talk about what it is we’re doing.”
****
Dáire blinked. It was the only thing he could do—his heart was stuck, his throat no bigger than a straw, and his stomach sat somewhere near his heels.
I fell in love with you.
Like the sun had just come out from behind a frigid grey cloud, warmth canvassed his skin. It sank deeper, touching all the dark, forbidden places he couldn’t acknowledge until it consumed him and his throat unlocked enough to ground out the single word, “No.”
He grabbed her upper arm and turned her around. Wide brown eyes locked with his, and in those warm inviting depths, he read unfettered emotion. They weren’t just words…
His world tipped on its axis as feeling swamped him. Yet the dark presence in his soul snarled to life, reminding Dáire he couldn’t yield to the swelling of his heart. Couldn’t acknowledge that she’d tapped into things he didn’t dare let go to his head.
Pulling in a deep fortifying breath, he managed to shake his head and find his voice. “No, you’re not staying in a hotel tonight. I want you to hear what this is. I need…” He swallowed hard and closed his eyes as he sought strength. “I need to tell you what I’ve done.”
And when he did, when she learned he’d manipulated her thoughts and what the possible consequence might be, all that beautiful emotion would vanish. She’d run. She’d lose faith in him.
She’d never be able to trust he wasn’t manipulating her again.
“I should go, Dáire,” she protested quietly. “We can talk about this later. Frankly, if you’ve done something that’s going to upset me, I don’t want to hear it tonight. Just let me have this…peace…for a little while.”
He shook his head and ushered her toward the barred doorway. “I can’t, Reese. The sabot is tomorrow night. This doesn’t get any easier.”
Aware he’d probably confused her more than he ought to have, he instinctively reached toward her with his mind. Then, as her thoughts commingled with his, he immediately drew back. No more. He’d done enough.
As he escorted her back into the room and passed the scroll to Rhiannon, Reese’s voice drifted through his mind once more. I fell in love with you. Not because he’d asked her to, he realized. Not because he’d suggested she should.
“Let’s see what it says.” Belen motioned for the rolled up parchment. His glance fell on Dáire. “See what you have to do.”
Dáire heard his brother, but he couldn’t move beyond the realization that Reese had fallen in love with him all on her own. His gaze pulled to her impassive face, the far-away look in her eyes. What had she heard that made her look so…so sad?
Oh, if things were different, if he could examine the topsy-turvy emotion churning inside him long enough to understand it, he’d usher her back out of this room, drop to his knees and—
“Dáire?” Isolde asked.
Snapped out of his thoughts, he jerked his focus off Reese. “Hm?”
As Isolde let out a sigh of exasperation, Rhiannon snickered. She reached across the cushion that separated them and patted his knee. “You might want to join us for this conversation. Belen read it again.”
His brother smoothed the ragged parchment. “One voice must rise above the others, one body required to contain the power. Should another join the first, all will be lost, and the vilest one shall strengthen.”
Dáire furrowed his brow. From the corner of his eye, he caught the quizzical look Reese shot him. Much as he wanted to, he couldn’t explain right now. In a few minutes, as soon as he made complete sense of everything, he’d elaborate. He looked to Isolde. Out of them all, her significant gift of their mother’s powers gave her the ability to translate the appropriate meaning.
She answered before he could ask. “It’s a solo ritual. If we help the one who calls the circle, it will reverse.”
“That seems a bit moronic,” Mick commented with a snort. “Why would she put such a negative consequence in?”
Reese sat forward and lifted a hand, palm out. “Would someone please explain what you’re all talking about?”
To Dáire’s relief, Rhiannon relieved him of trying to explain what he was just sorting out himself. “This is the ritual that Dáire explained earlier, the spell that will help defeat Drandar. Belen is reading the specifics and the things that are required.”
Reese nodded, and Rhiannon addressed Mick’s question. “Mick, the reversal pertains to the balance. This is the fifth ritual. Right now, with four accomplished, Drandar hangs in the balance. If the fifth fails, it swings toward darkness, as nature intended him to be. If it succeeds, it is magic that causes the effect, thus throwing the balance off and pushing him closer to his destruction.”
Reese surprised Dáire with a sudden gasp. “Ooh, that makes sense.”
He stared, stunned. She understood it? Even Mick, who’d witnessed one ritual intimately, wore a perplexed look that Dáire found all too frequently on mortals, when nature’s balance became the topic of conversation. Few who weren’t inclined to follow the ancestors’ teachings understood the laws of the world surrounding them. Yet Reese did.
Rhiannon nodded, her own eyes widened with a touch of surprise. She reached over the coffee table, took the parchment from Belen’s hands, and scanned the three pages. “It’s really very simple, oddly enough.” She rolled it up inside the protective leather binding and tossed it into Dáire’s lap. “Five white candles, some burning sage and vanilla, three drops of clove oil on each candle, and a rinse of basil for the caster, prior to the ritual. She says just to will the desired result, and…”
Rhiannon trailed away as her gaze lifted to the ceiling. Dáire recognized the heavy foreboding presence in the same instant. Two heartbeats passed before he connected the lifting of the hair at the nape of his neck with the sudden frenzy of his divided spirit—Drandar.
He reached for Reese, intending to thrust her behind him for her own protection.
But he was too late. Before his fingers could connect with her arm, the malevolent presence coalesced, and Drandar snatched Reese into his vile grasp. He held her close, one long elegant hand spanning the column of her neck. “Good evening, children. I hate to disturb your little planning session, but I thank you for bringing me such a beautiful woman.”
Dáire’s blood ran cold at the sight of Reese in his sire’s clutches. Wide-eyed, she stared at him in silent panic, her fear radiating off her in staggering waves. Yet she didn’t dare move. One claw-like nail poised near her vulnerable jugular, the press of Drandar’s finger just deep enough to prick the surface layer of skin. If she struggled, he’d sever that artery in an instant.
Rage coursed through Dáire, replacing his momentary fear. He shot to his feet. “Let her go. She has nothing to do with this.”
“Oh, but she does, son.” He smoothed his free hand down her arm, making Reese cringe. “It’s a fitting punishment for your betrayal to have her assume your mother’s place. Don’t you think?” That despicable hand moved over Reese’s wrist and settled on the lower half of her abdomen. “From what I witnessed earlier, she would make a most enjoyable bedfellow. I shall enjoy filling her womb with sons who won’t betray me.”
At that moment, Dáire’s stomach
heaved violently. He would rather Drandar kill Reese than chain her into slavery as he’d done with Nyamah. The mere thought that his sire might touch her intimately, sent white-hot fury surging through his veins. On the heels of that anger, fear trickled in. He couldn’t stop Drandar. None of them could alone.
As tears threatened to rise, Rhiannon’s strength merged into his subconscious, their twin-like bond flaring to life. He latched onto her presence, in need of her strong spirit, the courage that matched his, which was rapidly failing. Drawing on that stabilizing energy, he allowed her to sink into his awareness until he felt her completely, and he knew she could feel everything he hid beneath his tight expression. There was only one way to save Reese, and he begged Rhiannon to understand.
Holding his sire’s self-satisfied stare, Dáire gripped the parchment tight and tipped it toward Drandar. “Give me her, and I’ll give you the ritual.”
Rhiannon revolted at the thought. Tension filled him, making it near impossible to maintain his resolve. He couldn’t hurt her…and yet, he couldn’t allow Reese to suffer. All this time he’d sought mortality to join his sister. Now, nothing mattered more than keeping Reese alive.
Drandar’s chilling laugh filled the room. “A tempting offer, indeed. But I have no worries about my eternal destruction. Brigid and Taran will never allow it to occur. You, however…” His self-satisfied smirk transformed into a narrowed glare. “Concern me greatly. You deserve to die, but I am incapable of taking your life, thanks to your mother’s warding.” He tightened his hand on Reese’s throat, provoking from her a gut-churning whimper. Beneath his fingertip, a thin line of crimson emerged. “So I shall satisfy myself with punishing you with the only way left to me.”
“No!” Dáire lunged forward. He stopped himself a breath before he grabbed Drandar by the arm. Slowly, he lowered his hand. “You can, if I grant you permission.”
Silence filled the room. Drandar stared at Dáire, speculation shining behind his fathomless eyes. Rhiannon’s rising panic pressed on Dáire’s shoulders, threatening to shatter his resolve. He could feel the shocked stares of Isolde, Belen, Mick, and Faith boring into his back. But he couldn’t tear his gaze away from Reese, away from those compelling soft brown eyes that plead for silent help.
“Do I understand you correctly, son?” Drandar asked slowly. “You are prepared to give me your life in exchange for this worthless mortal’s?”
Dáire knew then all the feeling he’d been fighting, the emotion that built and churned and warred inside his soul. Love. He loved Reese. More than life, more than the twin he’d spent centuries with.
More than anything in this world.
His life was a small sacrifice to pay for her eternal safety. Besides, if he did not go with the scroll, he would bring about her immediate demise. A fact, Dáire was certain, Drandar would wield to his advantage if Dáire uttered the words. He would force Reese to remain behind, condemn Dáire into fulfilling the curse and taking her life.
Dáire looked to Reese, willing her to hear all the feeling in his heart as she held his gaze. “Yes.”
Chapter Sixteen
“No!” Isolde screamed. She took a step forward, giving Reese hope that she might intervene and stop this nonsense. But as Isolde charged forward, Drandar lifted the hand not affixed to Reese’s neck. Red-orange light shot forward to slam into Isolde. She dropped to the ground clutching her midsection with an anguished cry.
Reese held Dáire’s sorrowful gaze. Ever-so-slightly, she shook her head, mindful of the biting press of Drandar’s nail against her jugular. But the resignation in Dáire’s eyes told Reese that her protest amounted to nothing. He wasn’t going to change his mind.
As tears threatened to blind her, Drandar released his painful hold and shoved her aside. She stumbled into Rhiannon, who caught her by the upper arms and stopped her fall.
“Dáire, no, please!” Reese cried. Why wasn’t Rhiannon doing something? Reese could understand why Belen remained frozen in place with Faith tucked behind his back. His thoughts revolved solely around keeping Faith and their coming child safe. Understandably. But Rhiannon, who was bonded with Dáire so intimately—why was she simply standing still and accepting how Dáire offered to die?
For that matter, why wasn’t Mick guarding Rhiannon?
Reese struggled against Rhiannon’s hold. Someone had to intervene. Someone had to do something.
A sharp crack thundered through the room. With it came a blinding light. Reese shielded her eyes with a hand to her brow and squinted at a white mist that churned and roiled like froth upon the sea. Whatever it was drew an outraged howl from Drandar. Isolde gasped. Rhiannon’s hold on Reese’s arms tightened by several degrees.
Then, as she watched, the seemingly impossible happened. The swirling mist became denser. It elongated, assuming the form of a human woman—long lean legs, arms as delicate as a ballerina’s, white-blonde hair as luxurious as spun platinum. Identical to Isolde. Right down to the slight upturn on the tip of her nose and her flashing blue eyes.
Their mother.
Hope lit. Maybe Nyamah could stop this madness.
Her voice echoed through the room, ethereal and yet somehow full of substance. “What is the meaning of this, Drandar?” She moved with purposeful strides and placed herself between Drandar and Dáire. “You cannot have him. He is my child.”
Oh, thank God. Reese relaxed in Rhiannon’s hold.
Drandar’s sandpaper laugh scraped over Reese’s ears. “You know the laws, Nyamah. He offered his life in exchange for that pathetic one.” He flung an arm at Reese. “There is nothing you can do to stop this, high priestess.”
Nyamah’s gaze followed the length of Drandar’s arm and landed on Reese. Blue eyes narrowed in speculation. She took a step forward, then another, each one bringing her closer to Reese and turning Reese’s gut into a slow but certain ball of lead. Outrage shimmered behind Nyamah’s calm expression. Her voice remained level but carried challenge all the same. “I know of you. I am not so certain you are worthy of this sacrifice. You have lacked courage for too long, Reese Hamilton.”
Dáire’s angry bellow overpowered his mother’s too accurate observation. “Leave her be, Mother. This is my choice.”
She didn’t turn to her son. Instead, her gaze remained on Reese, sending ripples of fear up and down Reese’s spine. Thrown back to her first encounter with Tom’s mother, Reese shriveled under the power of that ethereal ice-blue stare. She felt small. Insignificant. Unworthy.
“I am right, aren’t I, Reese?” Nyamah tipped her head to the side, inspecting her more closely. “There is no fight in you. You will hide from this as you have hidden all your life.”
Though Reese stared at a face full of angelic beauty, what she saw was Tom’s mother. Her ears filled with the snide remarks, the insults thrown her way over her poor heritage, her average upbringing, her unremarkable business skills, and her terrible taste in clothing. Compounded with those insults came others that were more buried. Accusations her own mother had thrown at her throughout her life. You can’t do it, Reese, you’re not smart enough. How did I ever manage to give birth to such a disappointment?
A spark of anger lit inside Reese as she stared at Nyamah. “No,” she whispered.
“No?” Nyamah chided with a soft laugh. “You think no will absolve you of fault? You are responsible for my son’s death.”
That solitary spark inside Reese’s soul burned brighter. Anger surged through her veins, giving her strength she’d never known before. All the old doubts faded, all the insecurities wilted beneath that rising heat.
She stared at Nyamah, returning the unspoken challenge in her speculative gaze. “He is responsible for his own death.” Her voice cracked through the room, overpowering Dáire’s mother. “I will mourn him. I will honor his passing each day I wake. And it will split my heart in two. But I am not responsible, and I’ll be damned if I’ll let you stand here and blame me! Who do you think you are? You don’t know me at all.�
�� Driven by demons she couldn’t name, Reese struck out with the flat of her palm. Her hand connected with Nyamah’s cheek. But instead of the satisfactory smack that would have relieved her fury, her fingers passed through air.
As she lowered her arm, heaving against the rage Nyamah provoked, a faint smile glimmered on Nyamah’s face. She looked beyond Reese at Rhiannon, dipped her chin in an almost indistinguishable nod. Then she turned away, her mist-like form drifting closer to Dáire. “You will be judged, my son. He is right, I cannot stop this, but only the ancestors can keep your soul.”
In a flash that filled the room, only to concentrate into a pinpoint of light, Nyamah winked out of existence. Quite murmurs from where Isolde laid formed unintelligible words that Reese couldn’t interpret.
Drandar shoved Dáire to his knees. He stood towering over him, a sick twisted smile on his cruel mouth. “I would love to draw this out. But Isolde’s plotting makes that impossible.”
Dáire stared up at his father, his expression hard as stone. “My life for hers. That is the bargain.”
“Of course it is.” Drandar’s dark eyes light with unspeakable delight.
As Reese looked on in horror, a demonic hand thrust forth and gripped Dáire’s shoulder. The other grabbed him by the crown of the head. She lunged, intending to throw herself between Dáire and his sire, but as her foot connected with the carpet, a sharp crack froze her in place. Dáire toppled forward in a lifeless heap, his neck twisted at an unnatural angle. Reese screamed.
As heartache split her in two, she dropped to her knees with a soulful sob. “No…” Her shoulders shook as tears gripped her.
“And now, for you, little fool.”
“Drandar, you can’t!” Belen shouted. “The oath is fulfilled.”
A shadow descended over her, and Reese lifted her head, dimly aware he was now talking about her. Vaguely seeing the hand that snaked toward her arm.
He let out a disparaging snort. “I took no oath.”
Get up.
The thought hit Reese out of nowhere. Firm, hard insistence that resembled the tone of Belen’s voice.
Fated for Sacrifice Page 11
