Fairytale (34 page)

Brigit’s head came up. “He’s not sick?”

“No. Just sleepy.”

So Zaslow had been lying to her about that.
Torturing her. And probably enjoying it. He’d deserved that blue
bolt to the chest. Her knees gave, caught again. She swayed just a
little, and steadied herself.

She hadn’t realized Mac stood just behind her
until she felt his arm settle around her shoulders.

“I want to see Adam,” Brigit managed to
whisper.

The doctor—Dr. Evans, she recalled
belatedly—nodded. “You can go in, sit with him for a few
minutes.”

She turned to glance up at Mac.

“Go on,” he urged. “He’d want you there. I’ll
see him later.”

Dr. Evans stepped aside, held the door open
for her, and Brigit, drawing a deep breath, walked through.

Adam lay still on the bed, eyes closed, but
he didn’t look ill or weak. He looked wonderful, only sleeping.

She moved slowly toward him, blinking back
her tears, and she sat right on the edge of the mattress, her hand
running over his face, tracing his cheekbones, and the line of his
jaw. She bent lower, retracing that path with her lips. “Adam...I’m
so sorry. God, I never meant for this to happen. I never wanted you
to be hurt.”

Her fingers sifted his hair. Stroked it. “I
love you, Adam. I never said it out loud, but you knew, didn’t you?
You know it’s true, even now.

I love you. I want you to come back to me, so
I can tell you. I want to be able to look into your eyes when I say
it. Okay?”

Her tears dampened the skin of his face. She
brushed her lips over his, and tasted them. “Please, Adam,” she
whispered. “Please...”

The soft, steady beeping sound jumped and
quickened. The pace of the sounds picked up, and a second later,
Dr. Evans was leaning over her, gently tugging her away. “Come on,
Brigit. That’s enough for now. We have to be extremely careful with
him right now.”

She sniffed, knuckling her eyes dry. “Yes.
Okay, whatever’s best for Adam.”

And she let the other woman lead her back
into the hall, into the waiting room. She sank into a chair,
feeling apart from herself. As if all of this were happening to
someone else, and she was no more than a bystander, looking on.

But it wasn’t happening to someone else. It
was happening to Adam. If he died...God, if he died, how could she
possibly live with herself? All of this was her fault. She should
have found another way. Some other way to end it all.

One thing was certain. Right or wrong, it was
over now. Zaslow was gone. Raze was going to be all right. She
hadn’t gone through with her plan to betray Adam.

The only question was, would he survive? And
if he did, would he ever want to look at her again?

Finally! Bridin melted in utter relief. All
these years of planning, of waiting for the time to come when she
could be free of the Dark Prince! Free of her rooms, and her nurse,
and the ever-present guards! Free to do what she’d been born to
do.

The painting had done its work. It had
brought her sister to her, and tonight, she’d see her twin for the
first time since infancy.

Thank the fates, Bridin thought. Rush needed
her now. She sensed it with every part of her. The situation there
must be dire, and it was high time she return and take her place as
ruler. High time she oust the dark encroacher who’d taken her
grandfather’s throne, and whose father had murdered her mother, and
driven her own father into exile. Rush was calling. Rush needed
Bridin. And Bridin needed Brigit, because only together could they
cross through the doorway. Assuming Bridin could even
find
the doorway. But she would. She had to. She needed her sister
to...

But wait.

Bridin tilted her head to one side, listening
to her heart, feeling it twist painfully in her chest.

“Brigit?” she whispered.

Frowning, she tossed the sterile-smelling
sheets aside and got to her feet. This was unexpected. Brigit. . .
her sister, was in need right now, too. She was alone, and afraid,
and her heart...her heart was breaking in two.

Bridin closed her eyes, wishing it wasn’t so.
For many years, she’d been without any sort of emotional
attachments. She’d been the prisoner of the Dark Prince. Her nurse
and her guards worked for him and were under his control. By
necessity, her relationships with them had been stilted, formal.
Except for Raze, she’d never allowed herself to feel anything for
anyone.

But this was her sister. Her twin. Her
Brigit, whom she’d locked away in a room in the back of her mind; a
room reserved for things she couldn’t have. Things she’d someday
have. Her dreams of Rush. Of the man she’d choose to rule beside
her. And of her beautiful dark-haired, ebony-eyed twin sister.

Now Brigit was here, within reach. And Bridin
was afraid she’d forgot how to behave with someone she loved.
Maybe, she’d forgot how to love at all.

She squeezed her eyes shut tight, and her
throat closed off. No tears came, though. No tears for Bridin. She
often thought she had none.

She’d think of more practical matters now.
Like how to get upstairs to the Intensive Care Unit, where Brigit
was waiting. She’d been without drugs for hours and hours now, and
she felt stronger. Clearer. A little magic, then, to help her on
her way.

She’d be checked on by nurses at every shift
change, she knew. It had just been done. She had time. The guards
had been ousted, and her own nurse, Kate, was in the waiting room,
sipping coffee. She focused, closing her eyes, willing those who
met her to pay no attention, to ignore her as if she were not even
there. Invisibility was not a physical state, but a mental one. One
she hoped she’d achieved as she opened her door and stepped into
the hall, toward the elevators.

***

“All right,” Mac said, and he gave Brigit’s
hand a squeeze. “All right, I’ll go for now. But only to the
nearest motel. I’ll call in, leave my number at the nurses’
station.”

Brigit nodded. “And I’ll call you if there’s
any change,” she promised.

“Or if you need me. For anything. And I mean
it, Brigit,” he said, stepping into the elevator, turning to face
her. “I love that oaf in there like a brother. And
he
loves...” He stopped speaking all of a sudden, frowning as his gaze
shifted to something behind her. His eyes changed, altered, took on
an entranced quality.

Brigit turned to see what had captured his
attention so thoroughly. A woman stood there in the all but
deserted hallway, looking around uneasily.

The elevator doors slid closed. The line of
his vision was broken. Mac was gone. And the woman’s eyes found
Brigit, and then she blinked as if in surprise or shock or
something.

She was beautiful. Her golden blond hair
framed her delicate face and spilled down over her shoulders, all
the way to her waist. She was slight, short, and fragile-looking,
like Brigit, but with an inner strength that showed in her
topaz-blue eyes.

She took a step closer, lifting a hand as if
reaching out. “Brigit?”

Brigit blinked hard and rapidly. It couldn’t
be. It couldn’t possibly be...but something inside her was saying
that it was. “Bridin?”

“Is it really you, Brigit?”

Brigit stepped toward her, shaking her head
in wonder. “My sister,” she whispered in blatant disbelief. And
then she saw the pendant around the woman’s neck. The pewter fairy,
twined around a quartz point. “Bridin...” Brigit’s voice gave out.
But she moved faster, and her sister did likewise, until they were
clinging to one another in the center of the waiting room.

Brigit’s arms held tightly to her sister’s
body, and she felt her frailty. The petite build, the apparent
fragility, but she felt the strength underlying all of that, too.
She held her hard, trembling all over, and when she finally backed
away, her tears made it hard for her to see clearly.

“I can’t believe this,” she said, sniffing,
and brushing at her cheeks. “Bridin, what...” Her words died, as
she remembered what Adam had learned about her sister. And she
looked again at what she was wearing. “Are you a patient here? Are
you sick?”

Her almost-smile was so perfectly sane. So
knowing. Her eyes were filled with emotion, but remained dry. “I
only pretended to be sick, so they’d bring me here. I knew you were
coming, Brigit. I had to see you.”

A little chill ran up Brigit’s spine, and she
licked her lips. “How could you know I was coming here
tonight?”

But Bridin was scanning the waiting room.
“Where’s Raze? I thought he’d be with you.”

“Raze?” How could she know Raze?

The blue eyes widened. “He’s not sick, is he?
Gods, I never thought of that! Is he all right?” She swung her
head, looking around frantically.

“He’s fine,” Brigit said, touching her
shoulders to calm her. “Raze is fine. He’s just sleeping off a
tranquilizer.”

“Then why are you here?” Bridin asked, her
body relaxing, her face returning to its placid, calm mask as she
faced Brigit once again. “This is the Intensive Care Unit, Brigit.
What’s going on?”

“It’s...” But before she could answer,
Bridin’s hand was touching her face. Her chilly palm cupped
Brigit’s cheek, rested there, still, steady. As if she were
feeling
something there.

Eyes closed, Bridin said, “Oh, Brigit...you
could have been killed. It was so dangerous, to go there. And the
man...the man...who tried to destroy you when he realized you’d
seen my painting...didn’t you recognize him? He’s the Dark Prince.
His family murdered ours, Brigit. They were the reason we had to
flee Rush. And he’s kept me his prisoner all my life. He’ll do
anything to stop me from going back.”

Her arms closed again around Brigit, and she
held on with surprising strength. “He wanted the painting because
he knew it was my message to you.”

“The painting?” Brigit felt her blood run
cold.

“Yes. I painted it for you, Brigit. I gave it
to my nurse, as a gift, but I knew she wouldn’t keep it. I knew it
would make its way to you, somehow, and bring you here to me. And
it did. But I’m sorry it nearly got you killed.” Her sigh was deep
and ragged. “Thank goodness your Adam was there,” she said softly,
and still there was surprisingly little emotion in her voice.

Brigit shook her head, trying to digest what
all of this meant. And eventually, Bridin’s grip eased, and she
backed away. “You think it’s true, that I’m insane, don’t you,
Brigit?”

Brigit shook her head. “No. It’s obvious
you’re not. You know about Adam. . and about that...that dark
being...” She lifted her head, her eyes wide with wonder. “He’s
dead, I think. He tried to kill me, and Adam jumped in the way
and—”

“Yes, I know. Adam was wearing your pendant.
And the Dark Prince’s blast was reflected right back onto him. But
he isn’t dead. I’d sense it if he were. That blast wasn’t a killing
one. Seems our enemy balks at the murder of beautiful fay
princesses. Lucky for him he intended to show mercy, not to
obliterate you, or it would have certainly destroyed him. As it is,
I believe he’s gone back to Rush. The blast put him in nearly as
bad a shape as it did Adam. I sense...” Her brows knit together. “I
sense he’s weak, and in pain. But not dead. Not that one.”

Brigit blinked, slowly letting her mind
absorb the truth, reeling, because she could no longer deny or
doubt it.

“It’s all so simple,” Bridin told her.
“Brigit, the fairytale is real. You don’t know about Rush because
you don’t need to. I remember everything because I must. I have to
fight Darque for the throne, and I have to restore our kingdom.
Brigit, it’s time for me to go back there.”

Brigit lifted a hand to stroke her sister’s
hair. “I’ve only just found you again, Bridin. I don’t want you to
leave me now. Not yet.”

Bridin smiled gently. “I won’t leave you. I
can’t. The only way either of us can pass through the doorway to
the other side, is if we enter it together. Unless you come with
me, Brigit, our kingdom is lost.”

Brigit backed away, shaking her head.
“But...I can’t. I can’t go back with you, Bridin. I’m sorry,
but—”

Bridin’s head jerked up, and for the first
time, real emotion became apparent in her expression. Anger colored
her eyes a shade darker, and her lips thinned, jaw clenched. “You
have no choice in the matter. It’s our destiny to return to Rush!
We must go back. Our people are depending on us.”

“Your people, you mean. God, Bridin, I don’t
even remember this place. There has to be a way you can go back
without me.”

“There isn’t.” Bridin inhaled nasally, so
deep her chest expanded. Her chin came up. “So I have to find a way
to convince you. My own sister.”

“You don’t have to convince me of anything,
Bri—”

“This man. The one who saved you. He’s in
there?” She jerked her head toward Adam’s room.

Brigit nodded.

“And you fear he’s dying?”

“No...” Brigit sighed, lowering her chin to
her chest. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

“Come on, then.”

Bridin struck out across the waiting room,
her steps fast and purposeful. Brigit ran after her when she
realized her intent, but before she caught up, Bridin had burst
into Adam’s room, and was at his bedside. She leaned over him,
touching his face, just the way she’d touched Brigit’s earlier.

Bridin pressed her palms to either side of
Adam’s face, as Brigit rushed over to her side, scared half to
death. Then Bridin went utterly still and her mouth fell open.

“What is it,” Brigit asked, searching her
sister’s face.

“It’s him,” Bridin whispered. “He’s the one
I’m supposed to find.”

“What?”

“He knows the way,” she said softly. “This
man knows the way back to Rush. He’s been there, Brigit. I saw him
in a dream. He’s the one who’s going to show us the doorway back
home.”