Her fingers lightly traced her lips that still tingled from Garran's kiss. The passion of his caress had been real. With his hard body pressed to hers, there had been little doubt if her brother hadn't interrupted them, they would have tumbled into bed.
She wanted to cry and laugh at the same time. Her brother wanted to invite a vampire over for dinner. She had a strong feeling Nicholas would frown upon serving blood for the main course.
Chapter Fifty-Four
Garran drove home and fell into bed determined to forget what almost happened between Isabella and him. He closed his eyes, hoping for peace, but the past came hurdling toward him, forcing him to remember.
Garran heard the wails of grief before he came upon Rory, kneeling with Moira clutched against his chest. He rocked back and forth with each heart-wrenching wail of grief.
Garran strode over to them already knowing it was too late for Moira. The haunted look in Rory's eyes told Garran the truth.
"What have ye done?" Garran's voice was a hoarse whisper.
Rory kissed Moira's bloodless lips before his fingertips caressed them. "I did no' mean to. I thought I could make her one of us. She wanted it," he defended his actions.
"So ye drained her dry."
"I thought I stopped in time." Rory looked at him, the grief so raw it made Garran blanch. "Ye have to believe me. I would never harm her. I love her." A sob escaped his lips.
Garran knew Rory spoke the truth, but it wouldn't matter to the Sidhe. Killing an innocent meant death.
Garran tossed in his sleep and the scene changed.
Garran watched in horror as they dragged Rory from his home. Rory wouldn't run, even though Garran tried to convince him to do so. Rory would not leave Moira, or rather, the shell of the woman he once loved. He didn't fight the Sidhe guards as they blooded him, draining him of most of his essence. They bound him hand and foot to the stake situated at the center of the stones.
Even if Rory changed his mind and wanted to run now, he would be too weak to escape. In less than three hours, the sun would rise. Rory had very little blood in him to ward off the sun's rays for long. He would burn. It was a just punishment if Rory had intentionally killed Moira, but he hadn't meant to take her life.
Garran couldn't stand by as the sun licked its way across Rory's skin, scorching it into flames. He bided his time until the last of the Sidhe gave their speech, condemning Rory for his sins. Aye, he had sinned, but his greatest sin was to love the lassie too much.
Garran kept to the shadows as he made his way over to Rory. Rory blinked his eyes open at his approach. "Garran?" His voice cracked.
"We're getting out of here." He withdrew his dagger to saw the ropes binding his wrist.
"Do no' do it. They will ban ye from here or worse. They will hunt ye as surely as they will me."
"I will no' watch ye burn."
"I do no' want to live."
Garran paused for a moment, coming around to face him. "Ye do no' mean it."
"I do. Let me die, Garran. I deserve to burn for what I did to Moira."
Garran placed a hand on Rory's shoulder, gripping it tight and forcing his friend to meet his gaze. "Moira would no' want ye to die, no' like this. She loved ye."
A tear rolled down Rory's cheek. "She was my light, my source of life, and now she's gone."
Garran couldn't take it anymore and slapped him across the face, then again until Rory bared his fangs with a hiss.
"That's better," Garran spat. "Moira would never abide yer whimperin'. She would think ye a coward."
"I am no' a coward."
"Then prove it. Live, and ye will live for her, too."
It took a moment, but Rory finally nodded his head. "For her."
"Aye, for Moira." Garran cut the ropes and Rory fell to the ground. He was at his side in a flash, helping him to his feet.
"I had thought as much."
They both whirled around to face Leathan. He was the one who took them in, allowed them to drink from the Sidhe. They owed their life to him.
"We wish ye no harm," Garran said.
"Nor I you, my friend." Leathan bowed. "I knew your honor would not permit Rory to face the sun.
"He may be guilty, but guilty of lovin' Moira too much. He wanted to turn her no' kill her."
Leathan sighed. "Alas, it is what I thought, but our rules were set in place for a reason."
"To keep the demons tame," Garran growled.
Leathan looked at him, his eyes twin mirrors of sadness. "A demon need not kill to survive. We offered you an alternative. Sidhe blood mingles with yours, Grim Sith. It is not a cure to eliminate the Bobhan Sith's blood, but to give you the choice of using your gifts for good."
Rory hung heavily on Garran, but he lifted his head to speak to Leathan. "Do ye believe me evil?"
Leathan sighed. "I witnessed you with Moira. Nay. I would not be talking to you now if I thought you were. Moira perishing is not your fault. Most mortals are too frail to accept a preternatural beings' bonding ritual. Only a true soul mate can bond completely. You tried to make her what you are, but she did not connect to you in the Otherworldly Realm. Her soul did not cross, but moved on to be reborn."
"But Fallon, brought us back," Rory insisted.
Leathan nodded. "She is a purebred. She can bring back an unwilling soul, but still it does not bind ye to her. Binding is of the mind, heart, and soul."
"But Moira…" Rory's words drifted away to a choked sob.
"Moira was human, a love from another way of life. You are not human, Rory. Another soul waits for you." Leathan looked at Garran. "For you as well. You must be sure when you bond that she is your soul mate. For if you mark her, you will hold her fate as she will surely hold yours."
The sun had set and Garran awoke with the dream still vivid in his mind. He rose from bed, showered, and dressed before heading downstairs to the kitchen. What happened with Rory had been centuries ago. Leathan did not stop them from leaving, but Rory never fully healed from losing Moira. He survived half the time drowning himself in drink and the other half taking perilous adventures and tempting fate. One night, Garran returned to their dwelling to find a letter. Rory had left and asked that he not follow. To tell the truth, he was tired of Rory's dour moods and was glad he had gone.
However, a century was a long time not to have heard something of his fate. Did he still live?
He opened the refrigerator and stared at the shelves lined with human food and couldn't help but smile. The bottles and packets of blood sat between a pitcher of orange juice and a carton of milk. Isabella had entered his world with ease, never flinching at what he was or how he survived. He reached for one of the blood packets. He tore it open and drank it cold. Leathan's words floated back to him like an unwanted spirit. You must be sure when you bond that this is your soul mate. For if you mark her, you will hold her fate as she will hold yours.
Moira had accepted what Rory had become too, but it hadn't been enough. She wasn't Rory's soul mate.
Garran thought of Isabella with her dark hair, hazel gold-rimmed eyes and sassy smile. His heart quickened at the thought of her. But what if he were wrong? What if Isabella was not meant for him?
He lifted the pouch to his lips once more, but paused when he heard his doorbell buzz. He didn't expect Isabella for another hour—that is if she weren't too angry to show up for her lesson.
He tossed the finished pouch in the wastebasket. He glanced at the monitor to see who came calling and cursed under his breath. "This should be entertainin'," he murmured as he swung the door open. "Good evenin', Nicholas."
Isabella's brother stood there with his hands in his pockets. His hair was windblown and his dark rimmed glasses had slid down the bridge of his nose. "I hoped we could have a word about Isabella." Nicholas came right to the point.
Garran stood aside to let him enter and then proceeded down the hall to the study.
"You don't seem surprised I'm here," Nicholas said.
Garran gla
nced over his shoulder at the studious looking human. "Do ye read auras like Isabella, as well?"
Nicholas cleared his throat not giving him an answer, but deflecting it. "So it's true. You know of her abilities."
"Aye, I know." Entering the study, Garran offered Nicholas a seat in front of his desk and he took the seat behind it. Garran glanced at the folder located next to the computer. Isabella's brother wasn't here to welcome him into the family, and he had a hunch the man would be blunt when he told him to stop seeing Isabella, but fair was fair. He slid the folder toward Nicholas.
Nicholas hesitated only a moment before he opened it. He flipped through the papers, scanning the contents with a keen eye. "You did your homework." Nicholas closed the folder and slid it back to him.
"Aye. We are more alike than ye think. Ye found out where I lived. I can't imagine Isabella told ye. Impressive, if I do say so."
"I knew Izzie lied to me about where she was going at night and who she was seeing." Nicholas obviously felt the need to explain his actions. Garran saw no need to stop him. "I did my own investigating," he went on to tell him. "When I saw you at the house last night with her…" He let the implication speak for itself.
Of course, it caused alarm. His sister was involved with a vampire. "I do no' blame ye." Garran glanced at the folder again. After Harrison insisted he meet Isabella, he did an extensive background check on her. Isabella had died—as she had told him—and she'd been brought back to life. "What are ye protectin' Isabella from?"
"From you," Nicholas didn't hesitate to answer. "From the world you live in. Our parents didn't want this for Izzie… or for me," the latter he added as an afterthought.
"How's that workin' for ye?" Garran didn't believe Nicholas kept the preternatural world at bay. Oh, he tried to ignore it behind his books and work, but he had a hunch it invaded his life more than he was willing to admit. "Ye're a Necromancer like yer sister," Garran stated, not as a question but as a fact, the realization taking form in his thoughts as the seconds ticked by.
Nicholas nodded, carefully. "I can detect Otherworldly kind, too. Not auras exactly… but a signature. I can see the true nature even if it's not revealed. I see you," he focused on Garran. "I see… blood."
Garran glanced at the folder on his desk, the files and newspaper clippings of Isabella's accident, death and resurrection. "The reporters stated a mother and a brother were present at the morgue when Isabella awoke from death." He sat back in his seat and met Nicholas' gaze. "It was ye no' yer mother who brought her back from the veil, am I right?"
Nicholas pushed his glasses back on the bridge of his nose. "My mother only wanted to say goodbye to Izzie, but I couldn't let my sister go. I was her older brother. I should have protected her."
"So ye brought her back and it wasn't a shade ye brought back. Ye brought back her soul."
"It was an accident. Before that day, I had never attempted such an act. My mother opened the veil to say goodbye to her. When she did, I could sense Izzie. She hadn't moved on. It was like she lingered there waiting for someone to lead her back home. My mother hoped for an impression, a glimpse of Izzie, but I sensed her soul and called to her."
Garran could guess the rest. Once Isabella had been summoned from death, how could Louisa send her back? What parent would?
"My parents paid the price for what I did. Death should have taken me, not them," Nicholas said the last more to himself than to Garran. He took a ragged breath as if drawing air into his lungs hurt. "I didn't come here to discuss my past."
"Why did ye come here?" Garran rested his elbows on his desk and folded his hands. He tapped his lips with his forefingers and waited for the piss-off speech. Nicholas didn't disappoint him.
"I want you to leave Izzie alone. I want you to tell her you can't see her anymore. You're a vampire, for God's sake. You're part of the world I've been trying to protect her from."
"Ye forbade her to embrace what she was born to do," Garran said evenly. "Ye didn't save her from it; ye made her more curious." Nicholas opened his mouth to most likely argue his point, but Garran held up his hand. "Isabella is a stubborn lassie. I doubt anythin' I say would persuade her."
"She believes she's in love with you."
Before he could react to Nicholas' claim, Isabella's voice intruded.
"What's going on here?" Isabella stepped into the study. She'd been grocery shopping if the bag she held was any indication. More food to fill his cupboards. Before long no one would believe a vampire resided here.
Nicholas turned in his seat to face his sister. Her expression said it all. She'd heard a good deal of the conversation. "Izzie, I…" Nicholas couldn't seem to find the right words.
Her eyes narrowed. "You let me believe I was responsible for our parents' death."
"I never said you were. You blamed yourself. Even though I tried over and over again to convince you otherwise."
"But you never told me the truth. Mom didn't bring me back from the veil. You did," she accused.
"I... I couldn't tell you." He shook his head, the shame evident on his face.
Harrison reached for the grocery bags Isabella held, obviously fearing they would slip from her grasp. She barely noticed since her gaze focused on her brother only. Harrison and he might as well have been invisible.
Nicholas stood and strode over to his sister. "Izzie, let's finish this at home."
"Home?" She narrowed her eyes on him. "No, you go home, Nicholas. I'm staying here. I don't need your misguided protection anymore."
"You're playing a dangerous game."
"See the thing is, Nick, I'm not playing – I'm working. And for once in my life, it feels right."
Nicholas glanced at Harrison then to Garran, obviously expecting some support. Harrison remained quiet. Garran surprised himself and followed suit.
"You need to go," Isabella repeated. She lifted her chin in defiance.
Nicholas reached for her, but she shrugged away. With a heavy sigh, Nicholas strode out of the room. A few seconds later, the front door opened and shut.
"Well, that was charming." Harrison broke the silence.
Without a word, Isabella snatched the grocery bags from him and headed for the kitchen. Harrison and Garran followed.
"Do you want to talk about it, Izzie?" Harrison asked.
She placed the bags on the counter. "What's there to talk about? My brother lied to me. And, dammit, he's a Necromancer too. He kept that from me when he could have helped me grasp what I could do."
Garran understood betrayal. Nicholas may not have betrayed her on the same scale as his cousin, Alexander, but Nicholas had let her down. That was the brunt of it. "Fear sometimes makes us irrational."
"Fear?" Isabella faced Garran with her hands on her hips. "Nick wanted to control something he couldn't. He wanted to deny what we are."
"Because he loves ye."
"Nick shouldn't have brought me back. My mother should have stopped him."
Garran stepped toward her and reached for her hand. "She was yer mother."
Isabella was quiet. He saw understanding in her eyes without him saying more.
"Nicholas learned a difficult lesson. One yer mother knew would haunt both ye and yer brother. Yer mother would have known the consequences. She opened the veil, not yer brother. He only called to ye."
Isabella paused, seeming to consider what Garran revealed. She had a good heart. It might not be today, but in time, he knew she would forgive her brother.
"I don't want any more secrets." She made a point of leveling her gaze on Garran like a challenge. "And that goes with us. I won't sneak around. We're together or we're not." She gave his hand a quick squeeze before she moved closer to claim his lips. He should have stopped her, but the taste and feel of her made him forget why this wasn't a good idea. His hand went to the small of her back and he pulled her flush against him.
"Uh…" Harrison coughed behind his fist. "Should I leave?"
Garran broke the caress and backed
away. Isabella stared at him with a raised brow, but she let his retreat slide for the moment and turned to address Harrison with a crooked smile. "No, stay. I brought a few items for the week, but I also brought us dinner from the restaurant. I have a filet mignon for you, Garran—rare," she added. "Practically mooing rare."
This he could stomach. "Thank ye."
"I'm starving." Harrison strode over to the cupboard in search of plates.
"Ye're always starvin'," Garran grumbled.
Isabella went to work removing the containers from the bag and placing them on the sink. She slid Harrison's dinner toward him.
He opened the lid and held the dish near his nose and inhaled deeply. "Mm-hmm."
"We need to talk," Garran told Isabella, keeping his voice low.
"About what?" She looked at him with a don't-mess-with-me attitude. "Do you want to talk about your inability to commit?" She dared him to go there.
He frowned. "If ye would just think about this, ye, me... it's not a good mix. I'm a vampire, if ye have forgotten."
"From the Bobhan Sith sept, a Grim Sith. Yes, I'm aware. But let me remind you..." She poked her finger into his chest. "You're the one that dropped the soul mate bomb in my lap. Now you're back peddling. Don't think I can't sense it. Why? Huh?" She jabbed him again and he caught her hand. "Let go of me." She yanked her hand away. She straightened her shirt and pulled her shoulders back then proceeded to dish their meals onto a plate. "You better eat before it's too cold," she said without looking at him. She stabbed at her steak as if it suddenly stood and was trying to make a run for it.
Garran pursed his lips. She may think this was over, but he'd lived long enough to know this scene was only a prelude to what simmered below the surface. "Foreplay," he murmured under his breath before he realized he'd said the word out loud.
Harrison choked on whatever he'd shoveled into his mouth and his gaze riveted to him with concern, and not because he feared he couldn't catch his breath.
Soul Taker Page 26
