Black Heart (43 page)

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Authors: R.L. Mathewson

BOOK: Black Heart
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“Ah, shit……”

“I-I need my phone,” she said, swallowing back the panic as her eyes locked on the large

dark purple bruises covering his left shoulder and half of his arm. That alone would have

been enough to terrify her, but the swollen angry red almost purple skin that surrounded the

bruises was the real reason that she was suddenly terrified beyond words.

She was by no means an expert on injuries, but thanks to the summer first aid courses

that Tom ran every year she knew enough to know that Tristan’s injury was very serious

and definitely infected. They needed to get him to the hospital so that a doctor could have a

look at the shoulder and fix it so that she could kill Tristan for scaring her like this.

“I’m verra sorry, lass,” Quinn sighed with a small shake of his head as he stepped back.

“You’re not the one that hurt him,” she pointed out as she pressed the back of her hand

against Tristan’s damp forehead.

“That’s not what I’m sorry for.”

“Could you get my phone please?” He was definitely burning up. Maybe she should grab

some ice packs and try to cool him down while they waited for help. She moved off the bed

to go grab as much ice as she could carry when she remembered that she’d forgotten to

make more earlier after she’d used the last ice cubes up.

Shit
.

Wait, no this wasn’t a problem, she assured herself as she headed for the door. Beth

always kept a couple of bags of ice in the chest freezer just in case they lost power.

Hopefully Tom was home and could bring the ice over, because she didn’t like the idea of

having to leave Tristan’s side right now. Before she did anything else she still needed to call

911, she realized when she saw that her phone still sitting on the top of the bureau.

“Lass,” Quinn said softly as he appeared in front of her. “There’s nothing that ye can do

to stop this.”

“Of course there is,” she mumbled, only half listening as she reached around him to grab

her phone as she debated whether she would be better off calling Tom first.

“There’s nothing to do now, but wait for the curse to finish.”

Chapter
37

“Everything’s going to be alright, Marty,” her father said, giving her a reassuring smile

and for good reason.

He had absolutely no idea that Tristan was going to die.

“I know,” she lied, waiting for him to put the cruiser in park and shutdown the

emergency lights before she opened her door and stepped out of the car as she tried to

convince herself that this wasn’t the end.

It couldn’t be. Not for them and definitely not for Tristan. He was the most stubborn

man that she’d ever known, but each time she reminded herself of that fact Quinn’s words

would echo in her head, destroying what little hope she had left.

This had to be a dream, all of it.

Any second now she was going to wake up. She’d share this dream with Tristan when he

asked her what was wrong. When she told him, he’d tease her and distract her with his

wicked kisses until this dream was nothing more than a distant memory and all she could

think about was the way that he felt when he moved against her.

All her hopes that this was a dream vanished when a man wearing a bloodied hospital

gown stumbled through the brick wall of the hospital and headed her way. Numbly, she

watched as Finn and Fergus suddenly appeared in front of the man. Seconds later the trio

was engulfed in a beautiful white light that spread all around them. It didn’t quite reach her,

which was probably the reason why she felt dread instead of any hope when she saw the

ambulance transporting Tristan pull into the long driveway.

-
-
-

“Fuck! We need to get his fever down.”

“Did your mother have any more ice in the freezer?” Tom asked, trying to stay calm

when Shayne could tell that the man was struggling to hold it together.

It was a familiar scene, one that he’d watched play out hundreds of times during his too

long, fucked up existence. He’d even experienced this scenario, twice. The first time when

Tadgh had died in his arms and the second time when his own mate, Aileen had died the

one and only time he’d allowed himself to be born and taken a stab at breaking the curse.

He’d failed miserably. He hadn’t been able to protect her, which was the reason why

he’d never tried again. She was better off without him and this bloody curse that tainted

everything that it touched.

The last time he’d seen her, she’d been covered in blood, his and hers, and cursing him

out for being a bastard. He’d taken it, held her tightly in his arms as he swore that he would

never bother her again and unlike Tadgh, he’d kept his word.

Keeping his word hadn’t been difficult for him and probably for a very simple reason.

While Tadgh was truly in love with his soul mate, Shayne was not. In fact, not strangling

the woman with his bare hands had taken every ounce of energy that he’d had every time

he’d seen her during that one lifetime that he’d foolishly tried to set them free.

She didn’t mean anything other than a means to an end. He didn’t hate her, but he

couldn’t honestly say that he cared about her. He’d never met her when he’d been alive,

truly alive before this curse had trapped them and during that one and only attempt he

hadn’t developed any feelings beyond annoyance for her. She wasn’t his responsibility and

he didn’t owe her a damn thing, which was the reason that he’d been able to turn his back

on her. Tadgh, on the other hand…..

Tadgh was his brother, his blood and his responsibility. He would never be able to turn

his back on him no matter how much his brother pissed him off. He was also the best

person that Shayne had ever known.

Christ, he could still remember those carefree smiles that made it so damn difficult to stay

angry at the boy. He’d been such a kind boy and an even kinder man. Tadgh would have

made such a wonderful father and if it hadn’t been for him, he would have had that chance.

He’d fucked up everything with one simple mistake, a stupid mistake and one that he’d

spend eternity wishing like hell that he could fix, but he couldn’t. There was no going back,

no fixing the mistake that had cost them everything, and no forgiving himself. Tadgh didn’t

seem to have that problem.

Nothing had ever hurt like the moment that he’d watched Tadgh die for the first time and

then watched as the man appeared in his new cursed form as he was forced to watch his

wife and unborn child die. God, the anguish and pain he’d seen in his brother’s eyes as he

knelt by Macha’s side still tore at him when he allowed himself to remember that moment,

but it had nothing on the moment that followed once Macha and baby’s souls were taken

away.

As Shayne had laid on the ground, barely able to breathe, never mind move from the

injuries that he’d suffered, he’d been forced to watch as his brother’s world was destroyed

and his heart was shattered. When Tadgh had finally been able to look away from the body

of his young wife and looked at him, he’d seen pain, so much goddamn pain, but he’d also

seen forgiveness in his brother’s eyes.

Tadgh had stayed with them all as they’d been forced to lie there feeling useless and

helpless as the reminders of their failure had laid only a few feet away. By the third day they

hadn’t been able to take the reminder of their failure any longer. They’d dragged their

bodies, broken and bloodied over to where Tadgh and Macha’s bodies laid. For the rest of

the day and night they’d slowly dug a hole and buried the bodies while Tadgh stood over

them.

He never said a word while they worked, not even when they’d managed to drag

Macha’s body into the hole and started to push dirt into the hole to cover her. He simply

stood there, standing guard over them while they did what had to be done. Shayne wasn’t

sure how he’d handled it. He knew that he wouldn’t have been able to cope with watching

his own funeral. The two times that he’d died he hadn’t stuck around to watch, but Tadgh

always watched.

They’d told him that he wouldn’t be able to talk to or touch Marty once he died and that

much was true. If she was still alive after he died, he’d be pulled out right away, but the

moment that her time was up, he would start to feel the pull to return to her and each and

every time he gave in without a second of hesitation. Tadgh always stood by Macha’s side

as she drew her last breath. Then he would stay with her body until she was buried.

Tadgh was a much better man than he was, but he’d always known that. While Tadgh

couldn’t do enough to make things right for his soul mate, Shayne couldn’t give a fuck

about his own. When he felt the pull of her rebirth he ignored it. He’d ignored the pull

twenty-five years ago and he fully planned on ignoring the pull of her death whenever that

happened just as he always had.

She lived close by, but not close enough that he’d ever had to see her while he’d been

protecting Tristan, which was a blessing. He didn’t want to see her, didn’t want to know

what she looked like, what kind of life she had, if she was married, had children, or was

living a miserable, pain filled existence. She wasn’t his problem or his responsibility, Tadgh

was.

His brother’s time was almost at an end and he needed to be there for him. No matter

how painful his death would be, realizing that he was once again separated from Macha and

their child was always excruciating for Tadgh. It would be even more painful this time,

because this would be the last time he would ever see her.

Shayne had seen it in Tristan’s eyes last night as the situation was explained to him. It

hadn’t surprised him how fast Tristan had come to realize what the plan meant and

accepted it. He’d always been like that, putting the needs and safety of his loved ones first.

Every time Macha lost Tadgh it became increasingly harder to deal with and this time would

be no different.

He’d hoped that the plan would have saved Marty and the baby from the curse, but none

of them had had the balls to go through with it and now they were going to suffer. He’d

give her a week, four at the most before her heart gave out and she followed after Tristan.

If he thought it would make a difference, he would just reach down and pull Tadgh’s

soul out now, but it wouldn’t change anything. The curse was already activated and now it

was time to go through the motions. Besides, Marty would want to say goodbye to him. It

would be painful to watch, but they would deal with it and the aftermath.

Hell, he was not looking forward to this. He did not want to watch as Marty’s heart

broke. He didn’t want to watch as his brother once again lost the only happiness that he’d

ever known in this lifetime and he sure as hell didn’t want to see the anguish in his brother’s

eyes as Marty took her last breath.

But, he would.

He would do whatever his brother needed. He owed him that much at least.

“Shit! Dad, he’s seizing!” Denny said, trying not to panic as he worked alongside his

father to save Tristan’s life.

Shayne was thankful that this family came into Tristan’s life. They’d taken him in,

accepted him and loved him and Shayne had no doubt that if they had learned of Tristan’s

curse that they would have been there for him as well. They’d made life for Tristan

tolerable and Shayne would make sure that when their time came that he was there to help

them to the other side. It was the least that he could do for them.

“Park the fucking truck!” Tom yelled at the EMT behind the wheel, losing his cool for

the first time since Shayne had come into the picture.

Shayne knew that tone and look well. The man knew that he was about to lose a child

and that there was nothing on this earth that he could do to stop it, but that didn’t mean that

he was going to sit on his ass and give up. No, not this man.

As the ambulance was put in park, Shayne watched as Tom worked to save his youngest

son’s life. He kept working as the backdoors to the ambulance were opened and the

stretcher was pulled out. He didn’t stop working even as the stretcher was moved quickly

into the hospital, down the hall and through the emergency room doors. He was still

working on his son twenty minutes later when Tristan’s stretcher was rushed through the

restricted double doors of the surgical ward and then he stood there, looking helpless as he

silently said goodbye.

Chapter
38

“Wait for me!” he yelled excitedly, grabbing the wobbly stick that he’d found just that

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