Redeeming Vows (21 page)

Liz studied Fin’s face. Fascination and acute attention covered his features.

“It’s a wonderful technology, don’t you think?”

“Aye.” He shook his head, inched closer. “There.”

He pointed toward the left side of the screen.

“See something you like?” Mr. Harrison asked.

“Can you get a closer look?”

“I can zoom in.”

Fin rolled his hand, hurrying the man up.

As the image came into view, Liz felt her throat constrict and her eyes narrow. She reached over and grasped Fin’s hand. He squeezed hers back. A massive tapestry flanked one wall of the London auction house. It was Lora’s. The one she worked on daily. Only this one was complete. The small square that sat blank back at the keep was now filled in with images of the MacCoinnich’s life.

Images of their future.

“Are you interested in the tapestry?”

“Very.”

Mr. Harrison swiveled the screen toward him, 179

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tapped on his keyboard, and started printing out information. “I’m not sure this piece is for sale. It’s been hanging on that wall for as long as I remember.

But I can put in a query for you.”

“Can you print up a copy of the tapestry for us to look closer at?”

“I’m one step ahead of you, Miss McAllister.

You’d also be able to research this piece and see better images on your own by using this link here.”

He circled a website on the paper he’d printed out.

After removing the color copy from the printer, Mr. Harrison scrutinized the image. The flesh between his eyes pinched and he peered closer. His eyes shot from the paper to her and Fin, then back to the paper.

“Now I know why you look so familiar. What an uncanny resemblance.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

But she did.

It was hard to miss. Her image, along with Myra, Tara, and Amber stood in a circle. Other scenes played out a fight, with Fin’s image scattered all over the piece of history.

Luckily, the images were made of thread and not pictures.

“This woman here looks just like you.”

Liz lifted her lips into a soft smile. “She’s much prettier than me.”

The image of Myra was near perfect. It was a good thing she wasn’t sitting with them.

“Still, uncanny.”

“I noticed the resemblance. ’Tis why I’d like to learn more about it.” Fin sat back and crossed his massive arms over his chest.

“Here you go.” Mr. Harrison handed Fin several papers after clipping them all together. His gaze shot behind them. “Is he with you?”

Liz turned, noticed Jake hanging back in the 180

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store. His eyes glanced their way and then back to the object in front of him.

Selma sighed and stood. “Yeah, we had to drag him in here. He hates antiques.”

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With bulky arms crossed over his chest, Ian stared over the hill down to the makeshift village they’d broken away from only a day before. His men surrounded their personal encampment with claymores in hand. The stronger families did as he had, the weak boiled in the mess below.

Inside, he raged. His son was gone with no clear vision to believe he could return. Part of his very soul shattered the moment he felt Fin and Liz’s absence.

He knew Grainna watched. She must be laughing at the pain and destruction she’d caused.

With their numbers down by two, winning the war against the witch became even more impossible.

Soft footsteps interrupted his thoughts. He turned to see Amber walking his way. She cocked her head to the side and sent him a timid smile. Ian unfolded his arms and opened them to her. Her small frame trembled in his. Quiet sobs echoed his feelings.

“Shh, lass. There is no reason to weep.”

Amber held him tighter. “I weep for you, father.

Because you can’t.”

Ian’s throat constricted, and he blinked hard several times. “I don’t weep because we’ve nothing to mourn. Fin is strong.”

“I know,” she murmured, tears soaking his shirt.

“And Elizabeth.” He laughed. “Elizabeth will berate Finlay until he has no choice but to spin the wheels of time to bring her back to her son. I’d bet 182

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the Ancients themselves would take pity on the lad and grant them safe passage.”

This produced a tiny laugh from his daughter.

He wished he could give her more, something solid to hold onto. Hope seemed to be fading by the hour.

Ian pulled away and ran his thumb over Amber’s flushed cheek. He opened his mouth to tell her that everything would fare well, but then closed it. He could not guarantee any outcome. With Amber’s gift, she’d know if he lied. Her gift robbed her of her youth, and her innocence. If it were his choice, he’d have withheld her gift from her until she was of age. When she said she cried because he couldn’t, he knew she’d felt his pain.

For Amber’s benefit, Ian pushed away his doubt and willed his heart to mend. They had to find and destroy Grainna.

With or without Fin and Lizzy.

****

Fin lifted his gaze to hers. “I’m thinking.”

“Well, do it faster. You’ve watched your mom working on that thing for years. I can’t believe you’ve never asked her about it. I can’t imagine how many countless hours and bloody fingers she’s endured over it. The least you could have done was show some interest.”

Lizzy paced the room like a caged animal. Jake finally gave up on his constant surveillance and went home to get more clothes. Selma retreated to Simon’s room to rest, not that Fin thought she could with Liz shouting as she was.

“I showed interest.”

“Yeah, right. Like I believe that.”

“I did,” he lied. Why on earth would he have paid any attention to women’s work? He was the one in the tapestry inflicting mortal wounds to their enemies, not the woman chatting over tea. He had 183

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no time for such drivel.

He was a Highlander for God’s sake. Even Lizzy, with her thick skull could see that. Couldn’t she? Fin slid a glance her way. Her hands perched on her hips, her mouth firm in a straight line, her accusing eyes glared at him.

Damn.
Maybe he should have given his mother a few more minutes of his time over the years.

Perhaps then, he’d be able to decipher the meaning behind the pictures yet to be woven onto the canvas.

Fin studied the paper picture of the tapestry before him. A battle scene was easy to make out.

Swords, blood, and the fallen scattered one corner.

Whose blood? Not his mother’s, for she must have lived to finish the piece. His father would then survive as well since their Druid wedding vows would take them both from this world at near the same time. Fin held some comfort knowing they both survived.

“Hurry up.”

“I’m working on it.” Fin refused to meet Lizzy’s accusatory eyes. If they were back at the keep, he would have retreated to his father’s study to find some peace. Lizzy’s small dwelling, surrounded by the noise of the city, clouded his brain. And the air wasn’t right, artificially cold and dry. Selma had called it air conditioning, not that he knew why air needed to be conditioned. He didn’t ask.

Fin’s mind wandered to the trip in time when he and Duncan had traveled and found Tara. He remembered wishing for the ability to ride in a car.

Now that he’d done so several times, he wished for the simplicity of his horse. That he could control.

That he understood.

This world, Lizzy’s world, suffocated him. Some of the pleasantries fascinated him, and, in truth, the food was far superior, but for everything he enjoyed, there was something bigger missing.

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“Well?”

“Shh!” Fin snapped his thoughts back to his task. Daydreaming wouldn’t aide him now.

Lizzy made small huffing noises as she paced.

The louder she huffed, the closer she came to the boiling point.

Perhaps he could find an occupation to keep her busy so he could think.

“Finlay?”

“Dammit, lass, stop badgering me.”

“Ahh, Finlay?”

“What?” He tore his face away and over toward her. Only she wasn’t standing where he thought she ought to be.

She squeaked.

Fin tilted his head back and followed the sound.

Liz hovered above his head, her body flush with the ceiling, her hair cascading down.

“God’s teeth!”

“Get me down.”

Fin jumped to his feet. He reached both hands toward her, but the eleven-foot ceilings were higher than he could manage.

“How did you get up there?”

“How the hell am I supposed to know?”

Unable to touch anything but the edges of her hair, Fin settled with standing below her so he could catch her should she fall.

“’Tis safe to say we now know what your gift is.”

Liz shook her head from side to side. “Get me down.”

“Settle, lass—”

“Don’t tell me to settle. I don’t see you flying above ground.”

Fin planted his feet directly below her and kept his arms stretched out. “You’re the one keeping your body in the air. ’Tis you who need to relax and focus.”
’Tis a good thing we aren’t outside.
Fin 185

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thought twice about voicing his concerns.

“Focus on what? Being the next Superman?”

“You’re still a lass, love.”

“You’re not funny,” she spat.

“Sett—slow your breathing and close your eyes.”

Liz set her jaw even tighter. “What the hell is that going to do? I’m not in a yoga class here,” she yelled.

He had no idea what a yoga class was, but he could tell Liz would be plastered on the ceiling for a long while if she didn’t calm down. For one brief moment, he considered stepping into her room or maybe out of the apartment all together to achieve some peace.

He sighed. With their luck of late, she’d likely fall and break a limb.

“Remember how Simon couldn’t shift back into his form the other day?”

“Yeah. What about it? I’m not a wolf, I’m flying.”

“’Tis the same thing. If you focus you’ll be able to control what’s happening.”

“What’s all the yelling about?” Selma walked into the room talking. Her words barely left her mouth before she gave one short, startled scream.

Fin felt his heart kick faster in his chest. They really didn’t need this right now. Selma ran toward them, her arms extended like his. “Jesus, how…”

“I don’t know how.”

“Fetch a chair,” Fin ordered. Selma hurried toward the kitchen. She returned and sat the sturdy chair within his reach. Fin tested his weight and lifted close enough to touch Liz with the tips of his fingers.

“Can you move your arms?”

Her head pivoted toward her right arm, her fingers twitched. “They feel like lead weight. Good God, how can I be flying if I feel like a ball of steel?”

“Does it feel anything at all like when you and 186

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the others are bound in the circle?”

“No. Wait. A little, I guess.”

He brushed her face with his hand. Under her anger, her hysteria, he noticed her fear. “All right.

Concentrate.”

Her eyes met his briefly, before they closed. She took a few deep breaths.

“Think of the weightlessness you achieve when you’re with Myra, Tara, and Amber. In their presence, you’ve always been free. Free to express your gifts, show your power.”

Her chest shuddered, and she willed herself to relax.

“Good girl. You clasp hands with the others, you light the circle, and you all see as one.”

Selma gasped. Fin glanced to see a shimmer of flame hovering above the floor. The flame grew and circled the three of them. Selma shifted from foot to foot. He motioned her to remain silent. He was getting somewhere with Liz, he didn’t need her concentration wavering now.

Liz fisted her hands, her wrists started to move.

“In this day,” she whispered.

“In this hour,” Fin said along with her.

Her hand moved toward his, he clasped onto it.

“I ask the Ancients for my power.”

Fin moved closer to her. Her face softened. Her pink lips moved and caressed each word as it left her mouth. “Guide me now so I may see, what will be my destiny.”

Her hips floated from their anchor until Fin could reach around her frame. Her body pressed against his brought relief to his mind. She’d done it.

“Ah, guys?”

Selma glanced around at the dancing flames then back up at them.

Shit.
Fin hovered with Liz. Only now, they were both hovering and in an upright position. Liz opened 187

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her eyes.

“This is an improvement anyway.”

He wasn’t as sure. “If we were to let go, do you think we’d fall to the ground?”

“Only one way to find out.” She sent him a timid smile.

Fin closed his hands around her waist and eased his frame from hers. He let one hand drop to his side and felt a shift of weight lurch from beneath him.

His fingers gripped her stable hip. Her hands reached out and grabbed hold of him. He floated higher. Without a doubt, he’d fall to the floor without her hold.

“Are you ready?” he asked.

She drew in a deep breath and nodded once. Her hands lifted away from his forearms.

Fin braced for impact and let go.

He crashed to the ground, his arms ready to catch Liz. She leaned forward as if to catch him and slowly floated down. When her feet touched the carpet, the flames dwindled into nothingness.

After scrambling to his feet, Fin clasped onto her hand.

“Wow. Talk about intense,” Selma exclaimed. “Is it always like this with you two?”

“No,” Fin said.

“Yes,” Liz contradicted at the same time. “Come on, Fin, everyday is another crazy series of events with this family.”

“Maybe of late.”

“Yeah, well, all I can go on is what I’ve seen. Of late, nothing is normal. Nothing is easy.” Liz collapsed onto the sofa taking Fin with her.

“You can let go, love.”

“And sail to the ceiling again? I don’t think so.