Dark Embrace (28 page)

She opened her mind to the room and the women. The women were alive. The room felt still, clean and oddly chaste.

Brie gasped, shuddered and reached for the door, holding herself upright. She was beyond exhaustion and, unlike Aidan, she wasn't filled with power. Sharing the experience of taking so much life made her feel shaky and weak. She felt sick. She was not certain of what had happened in this room. It almost felt as if he had taken power without touching or using anyone.

But why would he do that?

He saved you, protected you, healed you and made love to you.

Brie reminded herself that Aidan didn't love her—not at all. He could not have rejected her that morning so callously if he did.

“I'll heal them,” Allie said.

Brie saw Allie standing on the threshold with Royce, their expressions grim. She crossed her arms, wanting to defend Aidan, as Allie went to the women to heal them. Her hands on one, Allie glanced at Brie. “He didn't have sex.” She gave Brie an I-told-you-so look and focused on the blonde she was healing.

Brie found a chair. She had never been more relieved. So much for refocusing and being a pro. She was still in love. And what the hell did Aidan's behavior mean?

“Ah, lass, he's fond of ye,” Royce said.

She looked at him.

“I canna lurk on Aidan, he blocks me. But I dinna have to. 'Tis evident.”

She was afraid to believe it, especially after being so hurt by him that morning. “Does he have enough power to destroy Moray?”

“I dinna ken.”

“Where is he?” But even as she spoke, her senses flew to Aidan's, and she realized he was nearby. She felt his savage, predatory intention.

“He's in the tower, where he hunts.”

He was safe for now, she thought. “And when he finds Moray? Can you please go with him? He needs backup. I don't care how powerful he has become.”

Royce nodded and walked out. The other women had gotten up and were leaving, looking no worse for wear. Allie came to stand beside Brie. “Are you okay?”

Brie hesitated. “I don't ever want to feel that kind of lust again.”

Allie gave her a look. “I can't imagine what the lust for life feels like, but…
La Puissance
is pretty darned amazing.”

Brie was pretty sure she knew what Allie referred to. She felt herself blush. “Do you mean the rapture that comes from so much power?”

She nodded and grinned guiltily. “It's all forbidden. Masters do not take power unless they're in mortal danger, and usually they don't need to—they're so superstrong that they can fight anything. But we dabbled in it. Royce was desperate for my healing power and boy, with sex factored in, what a rush!”

“I was fine with the good, old-fashioned version,” Brie said tersely. She did not want to recall last night.

“They say it can be addictive, like a drug. It's why once a Master falls, he usually turns all the way. They start lusting for that power and that rapture…” Allie shrugged.

Brie wondered where that would leave Aidan, if he ever was redeemed.

Allie touched her. “He leaves his victims alive. But he may always fight the urge to take power, the lust for it.”

“I'll worry about that later,” Brie said tersely.

“Good idea. Tabby's setting up for the séance.”

“Right now?” The summons to Urquhart was hanging over their heads, no matter how resolved Brie was to stop Aidan from heeding it.

Allie nodded. “I don't think we should delay. Royce and I have discussed it with Malcolm and Claire. We think you're right. Aidan needs to speak with his son. We think it could set him free and bring him back to us.”

He'll die if he chooses to die.
Brie hugged her hard, recalling MacNeil's cryptic words. “Let's pray first,” she said.

 

B
RIE PUSHED OPEN THE DOOR TO
Aidan's bedroom and slipped inside. Tabby had asked for an item of Aidan's for the séance, and Brie had given her the black plaid she'd been wearing. She was tired of being so swaddled up, anyway. Tabby had also asked her to find something of Ian's.

She had never been in Aidan's chamber before. The air within was charged with his testosterone and his authority. She closed the door behind her and glanced carefully around.

The room was barren and cold. Pillar candles were on the mantel, but nothing else. She glanced at the bedroom's only table. A pitcher was there and a single mug. One chair was beside it, without upholstery or even a pillow. It did not look comfortable. She looked at the bed, with only two pillows, blankets and a fur throw. His bedchamber was not a personal retreat; it was neither warm nor welcoming. It was as bleak as the rest of his life.

Why couldn't he let her love him?

Brie turned. The only other piece of furniture inside was a handsome, scarred and iron-bound chest at the foot of the bed. Brie went to it and opened it. She saw a folded black plaid, and she removed it. Her eyes widened.

What on earth?

Brie removed a very expensive, very modern man's black leather jacket with a Gucci label. It was a man's—it was worn—it was Aidan's.

She felt him all over the leather and thought of him as she'd first met him, when he had not been tormented and dark. He'd been in his medieval Highland garb that day, but it didn't matter. He'd been protective of her, kind to and caring of Allie and he'd flirted lightly with Sam. She knew he'd worn this jacket then, before Ian's murder, when he'd walked in the light of the gods, when he'd been carefree and happy, a man with friends, family, a clan.

She realized she was hugging the soft, sensuous leather.

That had been long ago. Even though she was determined to see him in it again, she set the jacket aside. She rummaged through the chest and finally found a pair of very tiny baby shoes. They were pointy and embroidered, and must have been worn by Ian when he was a toddler.

Tabby, Allie and Claire were waiting for her in her bedchamber. All the castle rooms were dark, due to the lack of any kind of modern lighting and the small or glazed glass windows, but it was ablaze with candles and filled with heady, exotic fragrances. Brie thought she smelled vanilla and lilies amongst the brew. Tabby had used chalk or something like it to draw odd symbols on the stone floor, including the large circle where the women were already sitting. She had strewn petals and herbs about the pattern, which Brie didn't recognize. A jagged line went through the circle but it was not connected, although it was obvious it should be.

Each woman sat an equal distance from one another, and it was clear Brie should sit between Tabby and Claire. She handed Tabby the shoes. Aidan's plaid was before Tabby's crossed legs and she set the shoes beside it. Brie sank down and met Allie's excited gaze. “If Sam were here, it would almost be like old times,” Allie said, but then she leaned over to take Claire's hand. “I'm so glad you're one of us now.”

Claire smiled, but didn't seem as excited. Brie had already decided Claire had a serious nature, which was fine by her. Not everyone could be eternally optimistic and endlessly exuberant like Allie.

Tabby had the Book before her, and she opened it and ran her hand over the adjoining pages. Brie whispered, “It used to take you days to find a spell.”

Tabby smiled at her. “My guides are very strong now.” She murmured a supplication to the gods for guidance in Gaelic, which Brie was pleased to recognize. Some things could not and would not ever change, and that included the bond between them.

Without having to be told, they reached for each other's hands. Brie thought about the power each woman had brought to the room, and as she did so, Tabby began murmuring her spell. Brie felt the air shift and lift and swell with the power of the Rose women.

She looked at Allie, who was not a Rose, although Brie would bet anything she had holy DNA somewhere in her family tree. How else could she be such a powerful healer? Yet she was sitting there in medieval times in skinny jeans, a leather jacket and Jimmy Choos. And Claire was the daughter of a Master. Just then, she looked like a well-to-do, suburban trophy wife, never mind the long tunic she wore over her modern clothes.

But Tabby looked like a medieval sorceress in her long, velvet gown, her gold girdle and headdress. Her murmurs increased, becoming louder and urgent, and she spoke more swiftly. Brie saw that her eyes were closed and she had gone into a trance, as she had hundreds of times before. Claire's eyes were closed, too. Brie glanced at Allie and they shared a silent look. Brie could almost hear Allie's enthusiastic thoughts.
We'll do this!

“He's coming,” Tabby said suddenly, and she opened her eyes.

Brie saw that Tabby was still in a trance. She sat stiffly, her complexion was waxy and her eyes glowed. Brie glanced at the door and everyone else did, too, except for Tabby, who sat as still as a statue, staring directly ahead.

Then Brie turned and looked across the room, toward the north wall. Ian was standing there. She managed not to cry out in excitement.

He started to speak and she heard him, as clear as day. But he was speaking Gaelic!

“He wants to speak to Aidan,” Tabby said softly, her gaze trained on the little boy.

Allie said, “Should we get Aidan?”

Tabby shook her head. “Please don't move. He is upset and he might leave us.”

Brie couldn't stop herself. “Ian, can you speak in English?” she asked, her heart thundering.

He looked at her and began speaking in a rush. “Where is my father? I want to come home!” he cried desperately.

For an instant, Brie froze. Heartbroken, she looked at Tabby, but Tabby remained in her trance. She looked desperately at Allie.
What are we going to do? He can't come home!

Allie shook her head, telling her not to do anything.

Tabby, still in a trance, said, “Do you have a message for your father?”

“Tell him to come and get me! I'm in New York,” Ian cried.

His little soul was in New York? What did that mean? Tears fell. Brie would have wiped them, but she was clutching Tabby's and Claire's hands and she was afraid to let go.

“Let me set you free, Ian,” Tabby murmured. She began chanting softly again, words Brie didn't completely understand. But she was invoking the great Kaitha, the goddess of mercy, healing and death.

Ian began shaking his head mutinously. “I want Papa! I want to come home. Tell him to rescue me.” He was angry and annoyed now. He reminded her so much of his father.

Ian didn't know that he was dead and he thought he could come home. Brie fought not to cry.

Tabby kept murmuring.

Ian began to fade.

Brie couldn't stand it. “Ian, you have a new home now, a wonderful place filled with warmth and light where the gods live, where all your ancestors are!”

He was the barest apparition, and his next words were really hard to hear. Brie was certain she had misheard them. “I'm not dead.” And he was gone.

Brie cried out, and looked at Allie and Claire. “What did he just say?”

“He said he wasn't dead,” Claire said. “Unless he said, ‘I'm dead.'”

“I thought he said he wasn't dead, too,” Allie gasped, her brown eyes huge.

Tabby said softly, “He is alive.”

Brie saw the color returning to Tabby's waxen face. The odd glow left her eyes and Tabby blinked as her body relaxed. Then her golden eyes widened. “We did it!”

Brie released Claire's and Tabby's hands, standing. “You just said Ian is alive.”

Everyone got up, Tabby looking surprised and standing more slowly. “I did?”

“You don't remember?” Brie cried.

“Brie, I was in a deep trance. I only know that Ian was here. What happened?” She glanced at everyone.

“He seems to think he's still alive,” Allie said. “And you just confirmed it.”

Tabby was stunned.

Brie confronted her, shaken to the core of her being—the depths of her soul. “I've seen you in trances hundreds of times. Sometimes your spells work, sometimes nothing happens or sometimes the opposite happens. Sometimes your guides give you great advice, and sometimes they have sent us into traps and we've barely avoided death!”

Allie interjected, “That was then and this is now. Tabby is really powerful, Brie.”

Brie whirled, aware she was becoming hysterical. “So she's always right? Her spells always work and her guides never screw up?”

Tabby touched her. “I know you're upset.”

“Upset?” she cried. “Upset doesn't even come close!”

“I'm usually right,” Tabby whispered. But she was stricken, and Brie knew she was afraid that this time she was wrong.

“How could he be alive? I mean, do the math,” Brie cried.