Soul Taker (35 page)

"Sounds like you're in love with him."

She turned her head so fast she was surprised
she didn't hear a snap. "In love with him?"

Nicholas' lips curved, but he didn't look
overly pleased at the prospect. "I'm just saying."

She turned away and took her frustration out
on the tomato, chopping it faster and faster until it was diced
into small cube-like pieces, the juice spreading like blood on the
cutting board. She glanced at her brother again. "He says he wants
to take it slow, but I think he's just afraid of what we could
have."

"Fool."

Isabella smiled. "Yeah. Stubborn, too."

"But you still love him," he stated
again.

She didn't speak for a moment as she let the
thought sink in. "I guess I do." She added the ingredients to the
sauce.

"I know you're old enough to know what you
want, but you're still my little sister." He took a spoon out of
the drawer and dipped it in the sauce for a taste. "Needs a pinch
of salt," he said not missing a beat. "How do you know this guy
anyway?"

She reached for the saltshaker on the spice
rack beside the oven. "I met him through Harrison." She sprinkled
the salt on her palm before dumping the amount she wanted into the
sauce and putting the burner on low to let the sauce simmer.

"Harrison, huh. I thought he was the one
interested in you."

"It seems he had a soft spot for
Johanna."

"Johanna?" He chuckled and shook his head.
"Go figure. She didn't seem his type." Then he became sober as he
remembered Johanna was still in the hospital. "Poor guy. He wasn't
Johanna's secret boyfriend, was he?"

Isabella shook her head as a chill spread
through her. "No. The guy she was dating is…" She couldn't tell her
brother that Johanna's boyfriend was the Soul Taker, feeding on
young women. "He's a jerk. He didn't care about her. Once she was
in the hospital, he moved on."

"What a scum."

"You have no idea." She chopped the fresh
garlic and absentmindedly added it to the sauce then chopped
another clove.

"Izzie?"

"Yeah?"

"I think that's enough garlic. There's enough
in the sauce to kill a vampire."

Horrified at her brother's choice of words,
she dropped the chopped garlic on the countertop. She didn't even
know if garlic could harm Garran, let alone kill him, but the
thought that she could hurt him in any way…

"Izzie?"

She looked at her brother. "I don't know what
I'm doing." Her eyes pooled with tears against her wishes. Damn
emotions.

"Come here." Nicholas opened his arms to her.
She let him pull her into his safety net. "Everything will look
better in the morning." He remained quiet for a moment, letting her
take comfort in his arms like she did when she was younger. There
had been so many times when her gift would make the children at
school fear her. She'd come home crying, but Nicholas somehow made
everything all right again. He had always been there for her.

"You should ask Garran over for dinner. I'd
like to know him better since my little sister has taken a liking
to him. This way I can warn him not to break your heart, or else,"
he teased. "I'll even cook."

She chuckled, choking back a sob. "Sounds
good." She couldn't patch up what didn't exist. She worked with
Garran—and that was an iffy arrangement at best. Garran and she
didn't have a relationship. He only noticed her because he
blood-bonded with her to keep her safe. Otherwise, she knew he
would have kept his distance.

Her fingers lightly traced her lips that
still tingled from Garran's kiss. The passion of his caress had
been real. With his hard body pressed to hers, there had been
little doubt if her brother hadn't interrupted them, they would
have tumbled into bed.

She wanted to cry and laugh at the same time.
Her brother wanted to invite a vampire over for dinner. She had a
strong feeling Nicholas would frown upon serving blood for the main
course.

Chapter Fifty-Four

Garran drove home and fell into bed
determined to forget what
almost
happened between Isabella
and him. He closed his eyes, hoping for peace, but the past came
hurdling toward him, forcing him to remember.

Garran heard the wails of grief before he
came upon Rory, kneeling with Moira clutched against his chest. He
rocked back and forth with each heart-wrenching wail of grief.

Garran strode over to them already knowing it
was too late for Moira. The haunted look in Rory's eyes told Garran
the truth.

"What have ye done?" Garran's voice was a
hoarse whisper.

Rory kissed Moira's bloodless lips before his
fingertips caressed them. "I did no' mean to. I thought I could
make her one of us. She wanted it," he defended his actions.

"So ye drained her dry."

"I thought I stopped in time." Rory looked at
him, the grief so raw it made Garran blanch. "Ye have to believe
me. I would never harm her. I love her." A sob escaped his
lips.

Garran knew Rory spoke the truth, but it
wouldn't matter to the Sidhe. Killing an innocent meant death.

Garran tossed in his sleep and the scene
changed.

Garran watched in horror as they dragged Rory
from his home. Rory wouldn't run, even though Garran tried to
convince him to do so. Rory would not leave Moira, or rather, the
shell of the woman he once loved. He didn't fight the Sidhe guards
as they blooded him, draining him of most of his essence. They
bound him hand and foot to the stake situated at the center of the
stones.

Even if Rory changed his mind and wanted to
run now, he would be too weak to escape. In less than three hours,
the sun would rise. Rory had very little blood in him to ward off
the sun's rays for long. He would burn. It was a just punishment if
Rory had intentionally killed Moira, but he hadn't meant to take
her life.

Garran couldn't stand by as the sun licked
its way across Rory's skin, scorching it into flames. He bided his
time until the last of the Sidhe gave their speech, condemning Rory
for his sins. Aye, he had sinned, but his greatest sin was to love
the lassie too much.

Garran kept to the shadows as he made his way
over to Rory. Rory blinked his eyes open at his approach. "Garran?"
His voice cracked.

"We're getting out of here." He withdrew his
dagger to saw the ropes binding his wrist.

"Do no' do it. They will ban ye from here or
worse. They will hunt ye as surely as they will me."

"I will no' watch ye burn."

"I do no' want to live."

Garran paused for a moment, coming around to
face him. "Ye do no' mean it."

"I do. Let me die, Garran. I deserve to burn
for what I did to Moira."

Garran placed a hand on Rory's shoulder,
gripping it tight and forcing his friend to meet his gaze. "Moira
would no' want ye to die, no' like this. She loved ye."

A tear rolled down Rory's cheek. "She was my
light, my source of life, and now she's gone."

Garran couldn't take it anymore and slapped
him across the face, then again until Rory bared his fangs with a
hiss.

"That's better," Garran spat. "Moira would
never abide yer whimperin'. She would think ye a coward."

"I am no' a coward."

"Then prove it. Live, and ye will live for
her, too."

It took a moment, but Rory finally nodded his
head. "For her."

"Aye, for Moira." Garran cut the ropes and
Rory fell to the ground. He was at his side in a flash, helping him
to his feet.

"I had thought as much."

They both whirled around to face Leathan. He
was the one who took them in, allowed them to drink from the Sidhe.
They owed their life to him.

"We wish ye no harm," Garran said.

"Nor I you, my friend." Leathan bowed. "I
knew your honor would not permit Rory to face the sun.

"He may be guilty, but guilty of lovin' Moira
too much. He wanted to turn her no' kill her."

Leathan sighed. "Alas, it is what I thought,
but our rules were set in place for a reason."

"To keep the demons tame," Garran
growled.

Leathan looked at him, his eyes twin mirrors
of sadness. "A demon need not kill to survive. We offered you an
alternative. Sidhe blood mingles with yours, Grim Sith. It is not a
cure to eliminate the Bobhan Sith's blood, but to give you the
choice of using your gifts for good."

Rory hung heavily on Garran, but he lifted
his head to speak to Leathan. "Do ye believe me evil?"

Leathan sighed. "I witnessed you with Moira.
Nay. I would not be talking to you now if I thought you were. Moira
perishing is not your fault. Most mortals are too frail to accept a
preternatural beings' bonding ritual. Only a true soul mate can
bond completely. You tried to make her what you are, but she did
not connect to you in the Otherworldly Realm. Her soul did not
cross, but moved on to be reborn."

"But Fallon, brought us back," Rory
insisted.

Leathan nodded. "She is a purebred. She can
bring back an unwilling soul, but still it does not bind ye to her.
Binding is of the mind, heart, and soul."

"But Moira…" Rory's words drifted away to a
choked sob.

"Moira was human, a love from another way of
life. You are not human, Rory. Another soul waits for you." Leathan
looked at Garran. "For you as well. You must be sure when you bond
that she is your soul mate. For if you mark her, you will hold her
fate as she will surely hold yours."

The sun had set and Garran awoke with the
dream still vivid in his mind. He rose from bed, showered, and
dressed before heading downstairs to the kitchen. What happened
with Rory had been centuries ago. Leathan did not stop them from
leaving, but Rory never fully healed from losing Moira. He survived
half the time drowning himself in drink and the other half taking
perilous adventures and tempting fate. One night, Garran returned
to their dwelling to find a letter. Rory had left and asked that he
not follow. To tell the truth, he was tired of Rory's dour moods
and was glad he had gone.

However, a century was a long time not to
have heard something of his fate. Did he still live?

He opened the refrigerator and stared at the
shelves lined with human food and couldn't help but smile. The
bottles and packets of blood sat between a pitcher of orange juice
and a carton of milk. Isabella had entered his world with ease,
never flinching at what he was or how he survived. He reached for
one of the blood packets. He tore it open and drank it cold.
Leathan's words floated back to him like an unwanted spirit.
You
must be sure when you bond that this is your soul mate. For if you
mark her, you will hold her fate as she will hold yours.

Moira had accepted what Rory had become too,
but it hadn't been enough. She wasn't Rory's soul mate.

Garran thought of Isabella with her dark
hair, hazel gold-rimmed eyes and sassy smile. His heart quickened
at the thought of her. But what if he were wrong? What if Isabella
was not meant for him?

He lifted the pouch to his lips once more,
but paused when he heard his doorbell buzz. He didn't expect
Isabella for another hour—that is if she weren't too angry to show
up for her lesson.

He tossed the finished pouch in the
wastebasket. He glanced at the monitor to see who came calling and
cursed under his breath. "This should be entertainin'," he murmured
as he swung the door open. "Good evenin', Nicholas."

Isabella's brother stood there with his hands
in his pockets. His hair was windblown and his dark rimmed glasses
had slid down the bridge of his nose. "I hoped we could have a word
about Isabella." Nicholas came right to the point.

Garran stood aside to let him enter and then
proceeded down the hall to the study.

"You don't seem surprised I'm here," Nicholas
said.

Garran glanced over his shoulder at the
studious looking human. "Do ye read auras like Isabella, as
well?"

Nicholas cleared his throat not giving him an
answer, but deflecting it. "So it's true. You know of her
abilities."

"Aye, I know." Entering the study, Garran
offered Nicholas a seat in front of his desk and he took the seat
behind it. Garran glanced at the folder located next to the
computer. Isabella's brother wasn't here to welcome him into the
family, and he had a hunch the man would be blunt when he told him
to stop seeing Isabella, but fair was fair. He slid the folder
toward Nicholas.

Nicholas hesitated only a moment before he
opened it. He flipped through the papers, scanning the contents
with a keen eye. "You did your homework." Nicholas closed the
folder and slid it back to him.

"Aye. We are more alike than ye think. Ye
found out where I lived. I can't imagine Isabella told ye.
Impressive, if I do say so."

"I knew Izzie lied to me about where she was
going at night and who she was seeing." Nicholas obviously felt the
need to explain his actions. Garran saw no need to stop him. "I did
my own investigating," he went on to tell him. "When I saw you at
the house last night with her…" He let the implication speak for
itself.

Of course, it caused alarm. His sister was
involved with a vampire. "I do no' blame ye." Garran glanced at the
folder again. After Harrison insisted he meet Isabella, he did an
extensive background check on her. Isabella had died—as she had
told him—and she'd been brought back to life. "What are ye
protectin' Isabella from?"

"From you," Nicholas didn't hesitate to
answer. "From the world you live in. Our parents didn't want this
for Izzie… or for me," the latter he added as an afterthought.

"How's that workin' for ye?" Garran didn't
believe Nicholas kept the preternatural world at bay. Oh, he tried
to ignore it behind his books and work, but he had a hunch it
invaded his life more than he was willing to admit. "Ye're a
Necromancer like yer sister," Garran stated, not as a question but
as a fact, the realization taking form in his thoughts as the
seconds ticked by.