Haunting Desire (34 page)

Before she followed him, she knelt beside her sister. “I’m going to talk to Tiarnan for just a minute. You stay with Liam, all right? I promise I’ll be right back.”

Ellie didn’t look happy about it, but after a long, serious perusal, the little girl nodded.

He’d waited just beyond the trees. Silently she fell in step with him and they walked without speaking for a few feet until the trees concealed them and their voices would not be overheard. Only then did Tiarnan stop and face her.

“Why did y’ not trust me when y’ realized what y’ could do?” he asked softly.

She glanced at him, seeing the hurt that still darkened his eyes.

“Do y’ not think I’m worthy of it? Yer trust, I mean.”

“It’s not that. It was never that. It’s not you I don’t trust, Tiarnan. It’s me. What happened to me—the accident, everything that came after—it made me feel like I had one purpose. That was to be what everyone else wanted me to be—useful, used. I guess I started thinking that no one would ever want me for the person I am. Only what I could do for them. I stopped trusting people.”

“And now?”

“Tiarnan,” she said softly. “Now I see I was wrong and I’m sorry I hurt you. I don’t know what that prophecy meant. I don’t know if we should believe it. If we should be running away from one another and screaming at anyone who gets in our way. I only know that’s not what I want to do. Whatever happens, I want it to happen with you.”

His hand hovered in the air between them and she knew he wanted to touch her. To bind himself to her. And she wanted that, too. Crazy as it was, she needed to feel his heat. His life. His heart.

“I’m glad you told me about that woman, Tiarnan. I know it must have been . . .” She swallowed. “What happened to her shouldn’t have happened. But Tiarnan, none of it should have. You shouldn’t have been backed into that corner, you shouldn’t have had to make those choices. I believe you tried to do the right thing, because I believe in you. You, the human man who isn’t perfect. You made a mistake—I trust you not to do it again.”

Silent, he watched her but she couldn’t tell what went on behind those whiskey eyes.

“What are you thinking?” she asked when the moment stretched.

“I think I would rather have my limbs torn from my body than see yer eyes fill with loathing when y’ look at me.”

The statement was spoken so softly that it might have been a wish. But Shealy felt the words down to the very core of her being.

He stared at her, and she saw in those whiskey depths the pain of a man nearly destroyed by betrayal and futility. A man who’d been forced to lead at too young an age. A man who’d been haunted by decisions he should never have had to make. A man fighting odds stacked so high against him that he never had a chance to win.

But she had seen him fight to protect his brother, to protect Ellie, to protect his friends. To protect
her
. Jamie was right. There was not an untrustworthy bone in Tiarnan’s body. He was just a good man who’d never been dealt anything but a losing hand.

She took a deep breath and said gently, “I think I love you, Tiarnan.”

He went so still that at first she thought he must not have heard her. Then his eyes filled. He looked away, tried to hide his tears from her, but Shealy wouldn’t let him. She took his face in her hands and kissed each salty trail, then she led him deeper into the dubious shelter of trees where they were hidden completely. His arms gripped her tight, holding her so close she couldn’t breathe. He backed her against an enormous tree trunk and then buried his face in the crook of her shoulder and neck while he cried, shuddering gasps wracking his body as the pain flowed with his tears.

Shealy cried with him and soothed him with nonsensical words, smoothing his hair, his nape, pressing kisses to his face and throat. She wondered if there’d ever been someone to dry his tears before, when he was a child. It didn’t sound like Tiarnan had ever had the luxury of being comforted.

After a while he quieted, his arms still steel bands around her. He raised his face, showing her his grief and the oath that she saw glowing within them. “I pledge myself to y’, Shealy. I will honor y’ and I will protect y’ with my dying breath.”

In answer, she kissed his mouth, chin, cheeks—tasting the salt of his anguish and the spice of his need. He groaned and cupped her head with his big hands, holding her still so that his mouth could settle over hers and take what he so desperately wanted.

Tiarnan kissed her like she was his last draught of water, his last breath of air. His lips were soft and demanding at the same time, parting hers so that he could taste every inch of her mouth. His tongue was hot and velvety, the feel of it sliding against hers seduction in motion. Suddenly it didn’t matter where they were, whether they would live or die. There were only these last moments of now and everything they meant.

For her entire life she’d looked for a connection like she had with Tiarnan. She’d searched for that link to another. Someone who understood who and what she was beneath the skin, beneath the makeup, beneath the exterior that she’d turned into armor, but she’d never thought to find that special person. She’d walled herself up, eliminating even the possibility. But Tiarnan had forged right through her barriers to the soft and broken center of her soul. He’d healed her and he didn’t even know it.

He was a man who tried to do the right thing when right was often impossible. How could she blame him for circumstances that were not his to control? How could she do anything but love him for what he tried so hard to be?

They might both die here on this very day, but Shealy would not die denying what she felt for him. In the quiet isolation of the trees, they fumbled with clothing, needing to be closer, needing to join in this bond that they’d both declared for one another. Back pressed to the rough bark of the tree behind her, she hooked her leg at his hip and felt the hard slide of him inside her body, focused every thought on this act, this instant, this man. She’d never been in love before, but if the white-hot feeling that consumed her now wasn’t love, she supposed she’d never know what it was. The strength and size of Tiarnan seemed a perfect complement to every inch of her body. He held her, rocking in and out in that slow, sensuous rhythm, bringing her to a pitch that felt like ice and fire, pain and pleasure all mixed with deliverance and redemption. The emotions conflicted even as their passion mated into something greater than either of them.

As he brought her to the edge, she pressed her mouth against his shoulder, muffling the scream that ripped through her, burning and forging until it cleansed her and changed her, making her someone stronger, more beautiful, more loved.

Tiarnan bit back his own shout of release and she felt the savage waves of it rolling through him, creating a new path in him as well. As their hearts slowed, she found they were both trembling.

“I pledge my heart to y’, Shealy O’Leary,” he said, his forehead resting against hers. “I pledge my life.”

Inside her something shifted, cracked and from within it sprang new life. She felt it welling up around her, felt it filling her with strength and determination. She’d come a long way to find Tiarnan. She’d sacrificed so much since she’d lost her mother. She’d carried the burden of guilt, tried to shut out who she really was. But no more. She’d be damned if she’d let anyone take him away from her.

“I pledge my life to you, Tiarnan. And I plan to make it a long one.”

T
HEY were ready to go but as they stood in a loose circle, they hesitated. All around them the forest seemed to wait with an evil sort of glee. For the past hour they’d heard rumblings coming from deep within the shadowed woods. Sounds unlike any they’d heard before.

“Cathán is unleashing his monsters,” Eamonn said, and there was fear in his voice.

With his body tattooed by the heavy chain links, it was easy to forget how young he was. Shealy thought he couldn’t be much older than her.

“More like the three-headed thing?” she asked.

“Worse,” Tiarnan said softly.

The small group of men stared from one to another. Beside her, Tiarnan stood straight and strong. The others had given them curious glances when they’d returned from the woods earlier, but no one challenged Tiarnan’s right to be by her side. Liam stood next to Nanda with Ellie suspended between as they swung her back and forth by her arms. The sight was so incongruous that Shealy almost laughed. Almost.

Kyle said, “We can’t do anything about the monsters. We need to think about the prophecy and how it can help us.”

“Help us?” Jamie said. “How would it help us?”

“Shealy can walk between the worlds and open the door to let others escape. Well, we are the others. Once we find her dad, we get the hell out of here. We just need to make sure we don’t have any hitchhikers. If we go in knowing that, there’s no reason why we can’t get out of this mess alive. All of us.”

“Works for me,” Jamie said.

“The journal also talks of three Keepers. Mahon”—he tapped his chest—“Leary—that’s Shealy’s dad. And I’ve got a feeling, you, Jamie, are number three. Shealy told me your dad was a Keeper.”

“That might be,” Jamie said, “but I don’t know jack shit about the Book of Fennore.”

“That’s not true,” Kyle said. “Anyone who’s lived in it is an automatic expert. Besides, Donnell knows enough for both of us. We just have to find him, break him free, and then stick to the plan.”

“Get out without taking any excess baggage,” Jamie said.

“That’s right.”

“But if we’re inside the Book of Fennore, Kyle, how does that work?” Shealy asked.

He smiled. “I’m going to have to rely on faith for that answer. But I’m hoping that being inside it means that we might have some control over this world, over Inis Brandubh.”

“I heard that,” Jamie muttered.

“Not even Donnell remembers a time when the three came together and used this power we’re supposed to have, but it is documented in the journal. And honestly, where does doubt have a place in any of this? We are
inside
the unbelievable. We must fill our hearts with faith and focus only on what we want.”

“What do y’ want?” Eamonn asked. It seemed he’d meant the question to be belligerent. She could see the anger that still lurked in his eyes, yet his voice was filled with uncertainty and apprehension. His wolf lay forlornly at his feet and Eamonn reached down to stroke it.

“I want to go back to the real world,” Kyle said simply. “But not if it means any of the monsters of Fennore can follow me out.”

The men standing in the loose circle nodded in agreement. Absently, Nanda reached down and scooped up little Ellie. She looked hesitant for just a moment and then she wrapped a trusting arm around his neck.

At Shealy’s surprised glance, he said, “I have a daughter back home. She’s Ellie’s age. At least she was when I left.”

The idea of it, of Nanda being a father wrenched from his child, brought another sense of heartbreak to this mess that had become their lives.

Kyle went on. “Shealy, we need you to take us to your father—or we need you to bring your father to us. With the three united, we might be able to hold the Druid—if he even exists anymore—and Cathán back long enough for you to get us all out of here.”

It seemed pointless to mention again that she had no idea how to do any of that.

“How can we hold the Druid back when we don’t even know who he is?” Eamonn asked, shifting nervously.

Liam made a derisive sound. “Were y’ always a coward, brother, and I just never saw it?”

Eamonn lunged at Liam, and though they were nearly the same height, he outweighed his adolescent brother. But Liam did not back down. He was not so muscular, but he was quick and he was strong. In moments, he had Eamonn pinned to the dirt with an arm across his throat and a blade in his other hand.

“I would spill yer blood and walk away without a care,” Liam said. “It is only the knowledge that doing so would hurt a man worth twelve of y’ that stops me now. Y’ve caused him too much pain already.”

With that, Liam spat in the dirt and stood and walked away. For a moment, no one spoke. No one moved. And then slowly, as if each step cost him a pint of blood, Tiarnan went to Eamonn and offered him a hand. There were tears in Eamonn’s eyes as he took it and Tiarnan helped him to his feet. Eamonn’s deep breath shuddered through him, but he didn’t let those tears fall. Shealy thought better of him for it—not because she didn’t think he had a right to cry—Lord knew they all did. But because she felt his refusal of them was, perhaps, a turning point. When Tiarnan would have moved away, Eamonn would not let him. He grabbed his brother in a desperate embrace and held him.

“My actions have made my words empty,” he said in a thick voice. “And so I cannot even ask for forgiveness. But know that I would earn it if I could. It is a cold place, the land of the wrong. I’ve been there so long I no longer know my way back. But I will try.”

Liam hesitated, looking over his shoulder at his brothers with such raw pain that Shealy wished she could do something to breach the bloody chasm that separated them. Eamonn released Tiarnan and stepped away without another word.

It wasn’t time for reconciliation if, in fact, such a thing could even be had. But the three brothers standing at opposite points seemed to have formed a bridge that whipped and creaked in the winds of doubt but linked them all the same.

“Okay. We go for Shealy’s dad. We all on the same page?” Jamie asked.

The men nodded, though some of Eamonn’s looked skeptical and others hostile.

“Let’s break it down, Shealy,” Kyle said. “We need to figure out how you do this traveling thing you can do. Yesterday—or whenever it was—when I saw you in your dad’s study. How did you get there?”

“I don’t know. I told you—”