by Brynn Myers
Adaira pushed past me as she used her gift to persuade the two males to leave. In that moment, I couldn’t help but catch a whiff of bergamot, the same scent from the female in the alley. I knew she was here now; I just needed to figure out why. I took the seat across from Syd and leaned in to make my point.
"You want to explain to me why I just had to ash Gavin?" Obsydian glared as he listened. "He was trying to grab a red-haired female who magically vanished the second he grabbed her. I tracked her here, now where is she? I think she has a little explaining to do."
Obsydian opened his mouth to explain, but when a blood-curdling scream pierced the air, I vanished toward the sound and caught the red-haired female just before her head hit the floor. Goddess, she was beautiful. The first moment I had laid eyes on her in the alley, I knew she was attractive. But now staring at her again, she seemed familiar somehow. I remained perplexed as to why Liam would have sent one of his commanders to track this female–this particular soul. I brushed back the flame red hair from her cheek and listened as her breathing began to slow. Her long dark lashes rested peacefully on her cheeks as she lay in my arms.
"Get away from her, Aerric." The look on Dillon’s face was more than enough to make most men retreat, but I stood and turned to face the man I had once called my friend.
"Why? What is this human to you? Actually, she must be something more than human if you’re getting all godlike on me." The look on his face was arrogant and belligerent as he crossed to the angel lying at my feet.
"How is it that she is here with you, when moments ago I was protecting her from one of Liam’s top henchmen?" Obsydian and two other males materialized into the room, ready to jump in if they were needed. Sarcasm coated my words as I intentionally antagonized the grandson of my makers. I knew Dillon well and he was never one to back away from a fight.
"What are you hiding, Dillon? Do your grandmothers know you are letting fledglings openly practice astral projection among the humans?" The low growl was all I needed to hear to confirm the answer.
"You can leave now, Aerric. That female is none of your concern."
"I have no intention of leaving until I can get some answers, and most importantly, not until I have talked to her again. If you won’t tell me who she is, then maybe she will."
The soft moan shifted my attention back to her and then the scent hit me again. This was not possible; I knew of only one female who smelled this way, but she had raven-colored hair, not flame red. Her voice echoed in my head; the familiar aroma of bergamot sent me over the edge of oblivion. This was not conceivable. She could not be alive, and yet this woman was so familiar. My need to protect her began to override my ability to think clearly as she roused next to me. When Dillon’s name left her lips, I shot a menacing glare at him. "Is this woman yours, Dillon? Why does she cry out for you in her weakened state?"
The room unexpectedly changed, and we were no longer in Keenan’s, but in Morrigan’s penthouse. Dillon, the female, Obsydian, Adaira, and the two guards were all bowing in the direction of Brighid and Morrigan.
Chapter Eight
"Goddesses," we all said in unison as we watched Morrigan intently, her eyes glowing a deep copper as she returned our regard. Brighid crossed the room to the crimson-haired beauty and knelt down beside her. She gently brushed the hair from the still unconscious female and caressed her cheek gently. I dared to be the first in the group to speak; my curiosity had gotten the best of me.
"You look upon this woman with such tenderness, Goddess. Do you know her?"
Brighid looked up. "I do Aerric. She is my granddaughter."
The audible gasps could not be missed; the shock of her words hit us all.
"Impossible. She has long gone into the fade."
I wasn’t sure if I even believed the words I just spoke, because lying here before me was proof that I’d been misled. Dillon pushed passed Obsydian and I, and knelt down next to Brighid.
"Obviously not, Aerric." Disdain coated his words as he picked up his sister and moved to lay her gently on the couch.
I stepped towards Kylah but was stopped by Morrigan. The emotion I was feeling was beyond my control as heat began to build beneath my skin.
"You have kept her from me all this time? You let me believe she had gone into the fade."
Flames flickered in my eyes, the heat burning as I stared at my creator. "She was my mate, and I would have protected her with my life."
Brighid stood and placed a gentle hand on my face, cooling the lava within my chest as it threatened to erupt.
"It was a difficult decision for all of us, Aerric, but we had no other choice." Brighid’s voice was gentle and soothing as she spoke.
Morrigan’s voice was harsh compared to her sister goddess. "Your anger is understandable, Aerric, but you will be mindful of who you are speaking to. Brighid and I have much to explain to all of you, but at the moment we need to get Kylah safe and settled. If anyone were to know that she was still alive, her life and ours would be in grave danger. I will not risk what we have fought so hard to protect."
Obsydian moved to stand by Morrigan’s side. "As you command. Where shall I align the Nine?"
"Have them begin training on the fight maneuvers we spoke of last night. And make sure the weapons are charmed using the spell Genevieve gave you. I want the Sluagh fledglings eradicated by two nights end."
Her command was spoken in a peaceful tone, but when her eyes changed from copper to black, it meant failure to comply would come at a high cost to anyone who did not complete the task at hand. Obsydian, Adaira, and the two other guards faded out of the room.
Morrigan moved across the room as if she were floating. "I will acknowledge your anger, Aerric, but only for a moment. The others will lead the charge against the fledglings, but I want you to track Liam and report back to me directly. How many Sluagh did you take out today?"
I shook my head. "Five total, but with all due respect, Goddess, I am going to need a bit more of an explanation as to why the love of my life is lying here before me, alive and well, when she was supposed to have died two centuries ago."
I knew I was pushing my limits with Morrigan, but the pain I had suffered deserved to be acknowledged.
Morrigan’s words were as cold as the ice she placed into her whiskey glass.
"We never told you because we knew you would not be able to deal with the situation. It was hard enough for us, but as her mate, you would never have been able to do as we asked even with your sworn oath of allegiance." She casually took a sip as she moved to sit.
Dillon glared in my direction as he went to the other room to answer a call on his cell phone. Morrigan watched as her grandson left the room before she spoke in an aloof tone of voice.
"When you brought Kylah home to us, Aerric, we were all elated, but as you well know, the news was tainted with sorrow. The need to avenge Caolainn’s death began to consume my every thought."
She glanced at Brighid, who was caring for Kylah. "I was not the only one who lost a child that night. We both lost our children to a madman hell-bent on our destruction. He took our legacy and slaughtered it!"
Attempting to diffuse the tension that had built up in the room, Brighid clutched my hand and led me to Kylah. I knelt next to her, unable to touch her for fear the mirage would end. Her scent was intoxicating; being this close to her fired up my mating instinct, and I wished we were alone. She may not remember who I was but I indeed remembered her.
Dillon called Morrigan into the other room as Brighid began to speak softly. "The night she made the decision to go out on patrol without the rest of the coven as backup was the night that changed everything."
She looked down at my angel and continued to stroke her hair as she spoke. "Liam’s fledglings subdued her in the forest and brought her to him as a gift. He rejected their offering and insisted instead that she be taken to the dungeon, thrown away, and fed to his horde."
A growl rose in my chest. "The fledglings had no idea w
ho or what she was, Aerric. It wasn't until she was conscious again that she used her powers and killed the guards as well as the rest of the prisoners in her attempt to escape."
Brighid’s eyes met my own. "You of all people know what can happen when she uses her powers. Nothing has ever survived her wrath."
"How do you know all this, Brighid? When we finally found her, she never spoke a word, not even to me. Weeks went by and she just stared out the window."
"I used my gift to delve into her mind while she was resting. I saw all of that, as well as the moment Liam laid eyes on her. It was clear he considered Kylah his newest possession. He drugged her so she was unable to use her powers. He and his commanders fed from her, draining her energy daily and making it impossible for her to reach us in her dream state. Between the charmed cave walls and her weakened condition, all she could do was exist."
Brighid’s voice changed when she spoke her next words. "He used her in all ways possible and left her a broken shell, Aerric. Kylah was no longer the warrior we knew."
My fists clenched as I listened to Brighid’s words; the dragon phoenix within me was begging to be released. My wrath against Liam would only end with his ashes scattered to the winds. I never would have imagined it was possible for Kylah to be taken over by anyone, but I guess I was wrong. Kylah had the ability to telekinetically control fire. She could, if provoked, engulf everything in a hazy blue-green flame and leave nothing but ashes in her wake.
"I don’t understand. Something just doesn’t add up here. How did they manage to capture her to begin with?"
Morrigan was the one who answered the question as she walked back into the room. "No one but she knows. All we can tell you at the moment is that those memories are locked away, hidden even from us."
"Aerric, we took what memories she did have, and removed them so she could be at peace. Whatever happened the night you and the Naio found her–the night Caolainn and Cearnach joined you all in the hunt–it was too traumatic for her to think about, even for a second."
A tear fell from Brighid’s cheek as she relived the moment she was told that her son and daughter-in-law were killed by Liam’s horde. Morrigan touched Brighid’s shoulder as she handed her the witches’ ball, the lavender colored smoke swirling within.
Morrigan continued. "Unless she begins to remember her past, she will continue to believe she is a twenty-six year old costume designer living here in New York with her family, and the spell contained within this witches’ ball will ensure she remains in the dark until the time is right."
"We have a problem then." All three of us turned to look as Dillon emerged from the kitchen. "Liam must have renewed his efforts to find her, and this time he's getting close. She’s been having dreams. She told me this afternoon they were no big deal, but if Liam has Gavin, the dream jumper, tracking her, then that means the problem is bigger than I originally thought."
Morrigan cursed under her breath as Brighid calmed the swirling smoke no longer encased in glass but floating above her hand.
"I sent Obsydian to confirm what I suspected, but by that time, Mr.-Knight-in-shining-armor over there had already ashed Gavin," Dillion said.
I tried to steady my temper before I spoke, but my words were still laced with venom. "I killed him because he was attacking her. The fledglings were looking at her like she was their next meal. At the time, I had no idea who she was."
"Enough!" Morrigan snapped. "I will have no more of this. You two will work together or you will both meet my wrath, are we clear?"
Both of us bowed our heads at Morrigan in agreement. We had been angry with one another for centuries, but our feud was petty compared to what was before us.
"I will do as you ask, Goddesses, but I would like to ask for one thing. May I have a few moments alone with her?"
Brighid looked at Morrigan, and they both nodded and left the room with Dillon. Finally, a moment alone with my beloved. Her appearance was so different from the last time we were together. The goddesses had disguised her well–too well. I couldn’t even recognize my own mate. Her crimson-colored hair was a stark contrast to the raven locks I knew, but one thing was still the same: her aventurine eyes. Tonight in the alley, I hadn’t understood why something seemed so familiar about her. Kylah's eyes always pierced my soul. Hell, she was my soul. I wanted so badly to take her from this place, take her back to our home, back to our bed.
"I will get you back, my A Ghrá mo Chroí."
I leaned down and kissed her lips, then moved to whisper into her ear. "Mo Ghrá, Tá mo chroí istigh ionat." I hoped my words would help her remember at least some part of us.
The goddesses returned to the room and once again called forth the lavender scented smoke and blanketed it over Kylah. They began to chant, and I watched as they performed the ritual that would once again strip her memories.
"Don’t worry, Aerric. She is not in any pain. This is only removing the events of the past few days: Gavin, the Sluagh attack. Deep in her soul she remembers everything about her life, she is just unable to access it. She has not forgotten you, I promise. Someday, Morrigan and I hope to lift this veil and allow her to know her true self, but not until it is safe for us and for her."
Brighid once again laid a calming touch over my heart, but it did nothing to sate the ache the loss of Kylah left behind. I faded out of the room with an intense desire to kill, and I knew just the place.
* * * * * * * * *
A lavender scented smoke began to swirl overhead and all of my thoughts were lost. I found myself lying in a cozy chair with my robe tucked under my feet and a book in my lap. The faint music coming from down the hall was familiar and comforting, and I found myself needing to find its source. I stood and walked towards the sound, and found a room that looked as if it belonged to a noble family from another time period. The low lighting and scent of old books permeated the air as I walked further into the library.
I sucked in a breath as I took in the room around me. There were floor to ceiling bookshelves spanning the width of the back wall. As I walked closer, I could see that the newer books had been arranged so they were at eye-level, while the older books were placed just out of reach. The slide ladder only went halfway up the shelves, making it impossible to access the older tattered books at the very top. On the opposite wall was a spiral staircase leading to a second level, but from my vantage point I could only see the dark wood paneling. There was also a mirrored wet bar in one corner of the room constructed out of a deep mahogany wood that matched the bookshelves. The ornate glass decanters and brandy snifters glinted with an amber glow as the flames from the fireplace flickered.
I was startled out of my admiration as the scent of leather and sandalwood began to mix with the musty scent of the books. The sharp contrast compelled me to turn towards its source.
"Dia duit mo ghrá." The low and seductive voice belonged to a tall, sexy man casually leaning against the door frame. Oh hell, the way he looked standing there in that linen shirt and black pants. His copper-colored eyes watched my every move as I tried to act as though his presence didn't affect me. His eyes shifted to the gap in my robe and he growled low as he started to move further into the room.
The look in his eyes had me blushing as I tugged at my robe. "I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to…" My voice trailed off as he walked towards me. "I heard the music and followed the sound. I thought I could pick out a book to amuse myself."
He smirked as he walked across the room to the bar. "Would you care for a glass of Jameson?"
"No, thank you." I was usually not one to be at a loss for words, but in this moment I was rendered somewhat speechless. Just being in the room with him was sending shockwaves of lust right through me, and god, when he spoke…
He poured himself a glass of the amber liquid from the tallest decanter and moved to take a seat behind the huge antique desk in the opposite corner of the room. The desk was adorned with an elaborate Celtic dragon surrounded by intricate scroll and knot work th
at seemed familiar somehow.
"The carved knot work is astounding. Does it have any meaning?"
"Yes, it is linked to my heritage and tells my history." He casually took another sip as he watched me over the rim of the glass. "Your grandmothers didn’t tell you about me?"
The heat of his stare burned my cheeks as I turned away to look at the books on the shelf, hoping to distract my current train of thought.
"No, why would they? I am completely in the dark about who you are, but I can’t deny that I am interested in knowing more."
I continued to run my hands along the books, checking out the titles and pretending not to be interested in him, when all I really wanted to do was walk over to the desk and straddle him in that chair. Finally, I found an old copy of The Faerie Queene and pulled it off the shelf.
"Do you mind if I read this one?" I carefully began to flip through the pages when the sound of leather squeaking distracted me. I froze when I felt him come up behind me. His hands gently caressed my hair as he pulled it to the side to kiss my neck.
"I am sorry, but it was taking an unusual amount of strength for me to stay in that chair."
"Oh, really?" I asked teasingly, biting my lower lip as I stared at him. Gods the effect this man was having on me.
"You know, I would be happy to amuse you. You don’t have to read that book."
I clumsily set the book back on the shelf as he captured my lips in a gentle and seductive kiss. Jolts of electricity moved straight to my core as he began to push the robe off my shoulders.
"You will be mine."
Chapter Nine
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! I slammed my hand on the snooze button to shut it off and flopped back onto my pillows. "Dammit!" Why is it when you are just getting to the good part in a sexy dream, the damn alarm clock has to go off? Well hell, I am awake now. I padded my way to the kitchen to start the coffee and saw the note Dillon had stuck to the carafe. Ty and Vivi’s plane delayed-home by lunch. My brother the laconic one. I flipped the note over and used it to make my to-do list. Pick up black wig at Frank’s, steam the linen blouse, text Olivia before she kills me.
