by Julia Mills
“Thoughts? Comments? None? Okay, I’ll tell you what you would’ve done, not because I’m your father, but because I’m a man, a dragon, a Guardsman, and most importantly, I had brothers of my own. You would’ve done exactly what Aidan did… go get help and search for any signs that he still lived.
“I watched from the Heavens as he tortured himself year after year, never fully giving up hope that he would find you and bring you home.”
“Oh, my Heavens, here we go. I know! I KNOW! I’ve heard it all. Poor Aidan…you don’t know how he suffered. Poor Aidan…you have to forgive him. Poor Aidan…”
“ENOUGH!” Michael’s bellow echoed through the blankness of time and space, causing Andrew to cringe.
“Will you NEVER take responsibility for your own actions? You fucked up! There is no two ways about it. When you broke free from the wizards, you should have gone to your own kin and helped fight the forces that threatened our race, instead, through some convoluted sense of a need to make the world pay for what you’d suffered, YOU TOOK UP WITH THE ENEMY.
“Now, I’ve listened to your reasons why and I have to call bullshit. You were always somewhat of a brat. Sorry, there’s no other way to say it, you just were. I never really understood why, but I accepted you for who you were. I figured being the youngest of three drakes born into the proud, Silver Dragon clan, had to be tough.
“Then there was the whole Special One thing. I’m sure it was a pain in the ass to hear about how you were destined for greatness every day of your life. And…well, I’m not sure having the fate of the dragon kin resting firmly on his shoulders would be easy for anyone, but let’s face it, you let that shit go to your head.”
Silence filled the space. Andrew wondered if Michael was gone or just waiting. Figuring out the Fades had been hard enough, but with his father dropping in for a visit, he was almost looking forward to Hell.
“If you haven’t figured it out, Andrew, I can hear your thoughts, so say whatever you need to say…I’m going to hear it either way. Hell will come soon enough. I didn’t come to hasten your journey. I actually came here to make things easier for you.
“If you face what you’ve done, show at least a modicum of repentance, TAKE RESPONSIBILITY for the part you played in everything that happened, then you have a chance of not spending all of eternity in unrelenting torment. No father wants that for his child, no matter that child’s shortcomings.”
It took a minute, but Andrew finally responded. “So you’re looking for me to forgive Aidan and those fucking Guardsmen? Is that what you’re saying, Dad? That I need to forgive and forget?” He knew he was yelling but dammit, even in death he couldn’t do anything right.
Andrew counted to almost one hundred and Michael finally spoke. The older Guardsman sounded beaten and sad. “Mo mhac, I fought in many battles, lost many brethren, didn’t always know if I was going to come out the other side alive, was wounded more times than I can remember, and none of that was a hard as what I’m about to say to you. You’re on your own. I tried. May the Universe, or Fate, or even the Prince of Hell himself, have mercy on you.”
Michael was gone; Andrew knew it for sure this time. Unlike the other times when his father had merely been silent, now the nothingness around him felt empty…desolate. He was all alone except for his dragon, a fact that still baffled him. But he had to admit, the beast’s companionship was nice.
Everyone always gives up on me. Why did I think my long-dead father would be any different?
The conversation he’d had with his father was on a continuous loop, playing over and over in his head until Andrew was ready to scream. Being forced to listen, he had to admit that Michael had definitely given him food for thought, but the thing that had baffled Andrew in life and now in death, was why did no one see the part Aidan played in his abduction? Why were they so ready to forgive one but condemn the other?
Sure, I was kind of a dick after escaping the wizards, but after what I experienced…
He wondered why everyone had expected him to just show back up at the lair like nothing had happened after being left for dead by his brother. Was he just supposed to give them all another chance to hurt him again? Maybe even achieve their ultimate goal of killing him? No way! Andrew had done what he had to. He’d made sure they knew he was alive after planning his revenge. His goals may not have been reached, but he had kept those assholes on their toes and inflicted copious amounts of anguish to the brethren who had failed him in every way possible.
Tiring of rehashing the same old shit for the millionth time, he pushed all thoughts of anything but Emma from his mind. Not that she hadn’t been ever present in his thoughts no matter what he’d been thinking about, but right now she was all he wanted. His beast was on board. Together, they used all of their combined forte to blend the image he remembered from his youth with the maturity and strength he’d felt in her just a few days ago. The result was perfection.
That one thought made him both happy and sad. She had been made for him. HIM! By the Universe, as a perfect complement to both him and his beast. Emma was meant to complete him in every way and he knew she would have. That made him happier than a dead man should’ve been allowed to be, but also left him sad and empty. It also made him doubt his actions and almost wish for another outcome.
A little late to rethink your plan there, genius.
With no way to track time, no windows to see if it was day or night…
Do they have days and nights in Hell?
Andrew had no idea how long he’d been in the Fades. It felt like a week, but that was pure speculation. He wasn’t sure if he’d slept or slipped in and out of a coma, he only knew there were periods of time he simply could not remember, and those times were beginning to overtake the lucid ones.
Having just awakened from one such period of lost time, Andrew was left with a vivid memory of Emma, but one he was sure was not his own. She was sad. No, that didn’t begin to cover it–she was devastated.
Andrew was immediately enraged. His dragon roared. They prepared to rip whatever or whoever had dared to hurt their mate limb from limb. He thought of all the ways he could make the instigator of his mate’s pain pay. His beast was fully on board, ready to do whatever it took to avenge their dear Emma.
Then, like a hot air balloon without a fire, his spirit fell, plummeting towards the black abyss of helplessness. There was nothing he could do. No way he could help her. He’d given up. He was dead and farther from Emma than he’d ever been in his life. Stuck in the Ether, waiting to make the long trip south, he felt impotent, enraged, and ready to fight the denizens of Hell to get back to the best person he’d ever met.
Time stood still. Where it had once been fluid and Andrew had simply floated, he now felt the absent tick of the non-existent clock, Emma’s suffering his only concern. He turned his focus inward, searching for any remnant of the mating bond he’d shared with her. What he found was a dimming spark at the bottom of his soul, fighting to keep its light, but obviously failing. Not sure who listened to the souls of the damned and not caring as long as someone, anyone helped his mate, he prayed.
Checking on Emma, his heart wept at the sight. She was clutching a pillow, curled in a fetal position, laying in total darkness. And as bad as that was, it was what she was feeling that would’ve brought him to his knees if he still had knees. Her once bright and pure light was dim and gray. Her warmth was gone, replaced by a chill that said she was giving up. Of all the things he’d thought would happen without him in the world, Emma losing all hope had never entered his mind. Whatever it was about her, that exceptional ingredient that made her just a little better than most, had done what no other person, place, or threat of death had been able to do. It had made Andrew O’Brien, the traitor, want to be a better a person. And although it was too late for him, there was no way he would let it be too late for her.
Doing the only thing he could think of, Andrew sucked up all his pride and ‘thought’ as loud as he could.
“All right, Dad, you were right! I fucked up! Now, how do I fix it? Not for me but for Emma. I can’t take it, Dad. This is my fault. I have to fix it.”
He waited and waited and…waited. Listening to silence. Praying for answers. Wishing he could pace. Just about to call for his father again, he heard the words that would haunt him for all of eternity.
“My heart can’t beat without him. Please just let it end…”
CHAPTER THREE
“I’m coming, I’m coming. I’m guessing it’s the only way you’ll stop beating on that stupid door.”
Emma uncurled from the ball she’d wound herself into almost four days ago to ward off the pain of feeling her mate die. She rolled out of bed and padded towards the door, not bothering to brush her hair or change her clothes.
I could care less what I look like. I just want whoever is at my door to go away.
Opening the bedroom door, she pulled back and slammed her eyes shut. The midday sun was more than she’d bargained for. With her hand shielding her eyes and the wall for support, Emma slowly made her way to the front door, threw it open, and stared.
“Hey, Emma. We came to see how you’re doing,” Sydney, Lance and Samantha’s daughter, remarked as she rushed by. Emma knew they were just being kind and caring, but none of that seemed to matter at the moment.
“Sydney, get back here,” Sam called over Emma’s shoulder before turning to the young woman and adding, “What my over exuberant daughter meant to say was…we came to see if you need anything.”
“Yes, I need to be alone.” Emma scowled, and turned away from Sam, hoping to hide the tears that were filling her eyes. No one understood how she felt. Hell, Emma wasn’t sure if she understood, but the fact remained, she felt as if a part of her heart and soul had died right along with Andrew.
Patting her shoulder, Sam stepped over the threshold and waited while Emma secured the door. She could feel the young doctor close at her back and rolled her eyes, then immediately felt bad. They were there because they cared, something most people would be thankful for, but right now it just exacerbated her pain and loneliness.
Her world had been turned upside-down. Her heart was crushed. She was one raw nerve of misery and the worst part was, it was over the traitor; the one that had betrayed them all. It defied explanation. Even as her mate he’d brought her nothing but pain. She hadn’t even laid eyes on him until he was already dead.
But none of that mattered when she’d touched his soul; Emma had felt the real Andrew. The one the man himself had been running from all those years. The one that wasn’t thinking of his own pain, but hers, and how to keep her safe once he realized what was happening. The one that still had goodness in him.
Sam’s hand on her knee drew Emma’s attention. “I know you think you need to be alone and I’m not saying you don’t need to grieve but, Emma, you have to stop shutting out the world. It’s not good for you.”
Emma knew if she opened her mouth she would scream until she collapsed in a pile of grieving woman, so she opted for silence and refused to meet Sam’s gaze. It was bad enough Emma could feel the worry pouring off her friend; there was no way she could stand to see the pity in her eyes.
Minutes ticked by while Sydney went from channel to channel looking for My Little Pony and Sam sat silently, patiently waiting for Emma to respond. Needing to move, to escape the scrutiny, Emma headed to the kitchen. “I’m making hot chocolate. Anyone want some?”
“Me, please,” Sydney called.
“Sounds good,” Sam answered.
The sound of the chair scuffing across the tile floor told Emma that Sam had followed her into the kitchen. Unable to hold back any longer, she turned, leaned against the counter, and folded her arms across her chest. “What exactly did you hope to accomplish by coming here today? I mean, I’m sure you know everyone else has been calling and texting and dropping by. It’s obvious I don’t want to talk. So why? Why are you here?”
Emma knew she was yelling by the time she stopped to take a breath. She even felt a tinge of guilt when she looked and saw Sydney standing in the doorway, but she’d had enough. The bullshit needed to stop.
“We came because you need us,” Sydney answered.
Emma looked back at the child, shocked it had been her that had answered. “I need you? What makes you think that I need you?”
“Because you loved him and he died and now you’re sad. I can feel your sadness.” The child touched the tips of her fingers to her own chest just above her heart, reminding Emma that she was no ordinary seven year old. The child’s ‘special powers’, whatever they were, were getting stronger. Something that she’d heard was happening all over the lair since the traitor’s arrival.
Sydney’s words cracked the first layer of the wall Emma had been expertly constructing around her feelings. Unwilling to feel anything but anger while her uninvited guests remained, Emma spun around and grabbed three mugs from the cupboard. It was only a few minutes until she was carrying the cocoa and the tube of Oreos she’d found on the counter to the small café table in the middle of her kitchen.
“This is yummy, Emma, thanks,” Sydney giggled. “I really like the mini marshmallows.”
“You’re welcome, Syd. Why don’t you take your hot chocolate and cookies to the couch and watch your cartoons?”
“Can I, Mom?”
“Sure, sweetheart. Emma said it’s okay.”
Emma watched as the little sweetheart carefully made her way into the living room and was immediately engrossed in the TV. Praying Sam would just sit in silence and knowing her prayer was most definitely going to go unanswered, Emma still cringed when the young doctor spoke.
“How about a compromise? You go wash your face and brush your hair so I don’t have to lie when Siobhan asks if you’re taking care of yourself. Then I’ll make us a light lunch and watch you take two bites so I don’t have to lie to any of the guys, my pushy ass husband included, then Syd and I will get outta your hair. Deal?”
Emma shook her head and sighed before looking up to find Sam smiling with a look of hope on her face. Knowing when she was beaten, Emma stood with mug in hand, nodded, and headed to the bathroom. She had to admit she needed more than a sink bath. It had been at least five days since she showered if you counted the day she spent in the clinic arguing that she was well enough to go home.
Grabbing a towel, she took a quick shower, put on clean pajamas, and returned to the kitchen. The scent of grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup hit her senses, making her stomach growl. Sydney’s giggle said they’d heard her coming. Sam’s smile as Emma crossed the threshold told her they’d also heard her hunger pangs.
They ate in companionable silence while Emma tried to decide how to apologize for her earlier behavior. She still wanted to be alone, but she’d been a real bitch to her friends and that just wasn’t cool.
“You really don’t need to say sorry,” Sydney mumbled while shoving a huge piece of sandwich into her mouth.
“What did you say?” Emma asked a little louder than she’d planned and almost fell off her chair while spinning to look at the little girl.
Holding up her index finger in the universal ‘wait’ signal, Sydney quickly chewed her food before responding. “I said you don’t need to say sorry. You were thinking that you needed to ‘pologize for being grumpy.” The little girl looked at Emma and winked before continuing; confirming she’d heard everything Emma had been thinking. “You know, when we got here. but you don’t have to. You’re heart hurts and it’s hard to be nice and smiley when your heart hurts. You liked that old Andrew. I liked him too. Did you know he bought me ice cream once? It was before Mom was my mom and Dad was my dad. We were at the hospital. He was really nice to me. He wasn’t the bad old dragon they all thought he was. He was just confused…mad. I think he needed a time out.”
The pain hadn’t gone away. If anything, it had just shifted a little while she’d showered and eaten. But at the mention of his name, it pushed to t
he forefront once again. It was compounded by Syd’s story. To know that he’d been nice to someone besides her confirmed what she already knew…there had been hope. With time, Andrew would’ve changed, or at least been repentant for what he’d done. Maybe even tried to make amends.
If ‘ifs’ and ‘buts’ were candy and nuts we’d all have a Merry Christmas.
She had no idea where that saying came from but it summed up how she felt. No amount of ifs and buts were going to bring him back, and therefore, she would live with a huge ‘what if’ hanging over her head. Holding in the tears while pretending to eat the rest of her lunch, Emma mumbled, “Thanks, Syd.”
They finished in silence. Sam shooed both Emma and Sydney to the living room, instructing them to find a good movie to watch while she did the dishes. Emma told the child where to find her DVDs and sat down in her favorite chair, trying to come up with an excuse that would get the mother and daughter tag team to leave.
“This looks good. It’s not Christmas right now but it looks funny.” Sydney held up National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation.
“Yeah, it’s pretty funny. We can watch it if you want. Doesn’t matter what time of year it is,” Emma answered as Sam entered the room, making her way to her daughter and helping to get the movie started before taking a seat on the couch.
Emma was shocked when Sydney climbed up in the oversized recliner with her, dragging her favorite afghan, and cuddled up to her side. It wasn’t long before the child had taken her hand and squeezed. The affection was almost Emma’s undoing. She really needed them to leave so she could go back to bed and cry herself to sleep.
“Emma, can you hear me?”
“Syd? You can mindspeak…to me?”
“I think I can to everybody. I know I can hear everybody if they don’t put up their shields. Mom and Dad have been teaching me how to keep mine up pretty much all the time. That way I don’t hear the grown up stuff, ya know?”
“Yeah, I know. But I guess what I should’ve asked was how are you talking to me this way. Andrew was the only person I’d ever heard in my mind.”
