The Compass (3 page)

Chapter Three

“So, what’s the plan?”

Finn stopped brooding long enough to watch Drake stroll in from the direction of the kitchen. In one hand was a bottle of beer, and in the other, a sizable sandwich. Despite the seriousness, and complication of the situation at hand, he felt his lips quirk up in a smile. Drake had shown up with Tristan shortly after Cian had. Tall and imposing, with his scruffy boots, well worn jeans and t-shirt; wild hair and wilder personality, Drake was what mortals of the female persuasion would call a bad boy. Of all of them, he had embraced the more basic benefits of the mortal world: food, drink, and women. Finn kept his fridge well stocked to accommodate the first two.

The transformed factory, in which he had made his home, was several miles out of the city. He had chosen it in an attempt to recreate the seclusion his childhood home had given him. Sure, he liked the action of the city, but the tranquillity his home and property provided was something he refused to give up. Rubbing the back of his neck, he went back to brooding. Cian had deemed his mystery woman a Fragment. However, he wasn’t convinced that she was—well, not wholly. She could have just been a mortal gifted with telepathic abilities, and whatever was going in her life allowed her emotions to reach out along the vast highways of mental links. The thought was a flimsy one, but he clung to it. Feeling the weight of the expectation to answer, Finn gave what he hoped was one that would satisfy. “We need to figure out if what happened was real. Not a deception.” Drake’s snort of derision put his back up, and had him defending his words. “Mikel is more than capable of such manipulation.” Feeling a tug at his mind, Finn turned to the one responsible. “Stay out of my head, Tristan.”

While not as tall as Drake, but no less commanding, Tristan shrugged an elegant shoulder. His choice of wardrobe was the complete opposite of their rebel friend. Custom made suits and Italian shoes, suited the blonde warrior. “My apologies, it’s a habit.”

His nonchalant excuse made the hair on Finn’s neck bristle, as did the mirth in his arctic blue eyes. “Well break it. I don’t need you hovering over me. Cian does a proper job of it as it is.” His cousin’s laughter furthered his annoyance, swinging his attention to him, Finn bit out, “You’re a pain in the ass. You’re lucky I don’t pound in your pretty face.”

Far from offended, Cian poured another drink. “And you’re sounding more like you just stepped through the portal in the Irish countryside. Your accent is like a thick soup. You’re throwing up a weak defence. She found you.” The string of curses that followed his statement had Cian throwing his head back in laughter.

Irritated, Finn stomped across the room to stare out the window. Muscles tense, hands fisted, he blocked everyone out. His determination to believe his encounter was a hoax was quickly deteriorating, as was his hope that this woman was just a very gifted mortal. No amount of gifts could have allowed her to sense him, to communicate with him. No matter the magnitude of her emotional state.

He may have chosen not wield magick as the others did, but masking his presence was a basic talent. Yet, she had known he was there. She had spoken little, but her words had carried a lot of information. She had been suspicious of his presence as well as surprised. No doubt she thought as he did, that she couldn’t be detected. Yet, what really had him curious was that she had likened him to a dream—like the woman. He pinched the bridge of his nose, centering his thoughts to that one statement. Who had she been referring to?

“There’s only one way to find out, Finn. You’re going to have to try and find her again.”

Finn dropped his hand in resignation, so much for Tristan staying out of his head. The statement was both obvious, and intrusive. Like Cian, Tristan always felt the need to meddle where he shouldn’t. Nevertheless, his words presented him with a monumental road block. As his cousin so fervently pointed out, it had been the woman who had truly made the connection. For his part, all he did was address the strange energy that reached out to him.

His frustration built up once again. He didn’t have time to unravel the sticky strands of magick. “That’s easier said than done.” He turned around to face them. “If it were just a matter of searching out her energy, I wouldn’t hesitate. But as Cian said, it was
her
energy that sought out mine; cutting through the storm, pulling at me until I followed.” He felt Cian’s eyes on him, knew what he was waiting for, locking his eyes on him, Finn gave him what he wanted to hear. “This woman has magick.” He clenched, and then relaxed his jaw before he added: “It doesn’t matter that she may be a Fragment—
my
, Fragment, we all know where that leaves me.”

It took immense control, but Cian held his reaction in check. He knew that for Finn, having to admit his shortcomings was akin to running his own blade through his gut, but his cousin needed to come to terms with what was inside him. Draining his glass, he stood. The air crackled through the room. His cousin believed his choice, made so long ago in a fit of rage over the loss of their family, could not be undone; stubbornly clinging on to the belief that his prowess with his blade, and a few immortal tricks, would get him by. Time for running had come to an end. “The blood that runs through me, runs through you cousin. The fundamental gifts of an immortal will not secure this Fragment. Now that one has been discovered, time is of the essence. The Autumn Equinox is fast approaching, the time Agrona said the Star must be untied. Choices made in our youth can be undone if one truly wants it so.”

Finn set his jaw and took a step towards Cian. Needling him about his short comings was one thing, but reminding him of their timetable, set him over the edge of his patience. When he spoke, it was through gritted teeth. “If this woman is indeed a Fragment—I’ll make it work.”

Cian didn’t back down. War was upon them. Finn was fierce warrior, his focus and talent with the blade had no equal. But Mikel was the master of the darkness and all the evil that lay within it—and his army was growing. Taking his own step forward, he met Finn’s glare with a taunt, one meant to provoke. “How—are you going to have the wind tug at her hair? I cannot always be there to bail you out cousin. Your stubbornness no longer has reason.”

The barb hit its mark and Finn bit out a curse. “And I cannot undo what’s been done.”

But Cian wasn’t going to let it go, this was the first time his cousin had shown any indication of regret over his decision. “You renounced your birthright while consumed with anger and grief, no one, not even the ancients, can punish you for that. Stop acting like a martyr.”

Before Finn could lunge at his cousin, Drake placed himself in his path. “As much as I would love to see the two of you duke it out, we have a serious problem to consider.”

With his eyes focused on the smug face of his cousin, Finn spat at Drake. “Right now, the only problem I see is an insufferable maggot.”  He snarled when Cian bared his teeth.

Drake shrugged a shoulder. “Yeah, well, maggot or not, here’s something for you to chew on. If this woman—this possible Fragment, had enough power to get your attention, chances are that Mikel also sensed her energy, and as Cian so sophisticatedly stated, the clock is ticking.”

With those words, Finn felt the weight of his problem grow tenfold. With a curse, he spun away. There was no other choice. He had to try to find this woman again. For the entire time he had been here, he had been under the assumption that it would be him finding the woman linked to him—not the other way around.

“We can provide you with energy—should you have need.”

He heard Tristan’s offer, knew it was made free from judgment; nevertheless it did little to sooth his bruised ego. The need to hit something was great, but it would solve nothing. “If, and that’s a big if, I were to attempt to find her again, I would have to find the pathway.” He looked to Tristan, “You have the ability to see into the mind, to discover its secrets.”

A golden brow winged up as Tristan considered the proposal. “You wish for me to see if I can find this pathway?”

Finn knew what he was asking—what it entailed. “I see no other way. The woman’s energy came through the storm, one that we would have a difficult time recreating.”

“You realize that by asking me to do this, I may see things that you may not want me to.”

He was well aware of the possibility. And had it been anyone else, Finn would never have suggested it. “I do, and you can be sure that I will be doing what I can to stop you from seeing them.”

The smile Tristan gave in answer was one full of humorous arrogance. “You can certainly try.”

Sensing things were settled; Drake rubbed his hands together, unbridled delight shone in his green eyes. “Great, let’s do this.”

Finn sat at the large table in the dining room, neither of which he used. He felt foolish, like he was about to get reprimanded by his father. The flash of memory caught him off guard and he cursed himself. He needed to remember to keep such things buried deep. The last thing he needed was Tristan walking around with a sack full of his youthful recollections.

His arms were relaxed on the smooth surface of the table. Drake and Cian stood on either side of him, ready to pull him back if things got too intense. He felt Tristan behind him. He fought instinct born from battle. Having a warrior at his back, with weapon or empty handed, was a vulnerable position he had never been in. Yet, despite his efforts, Finn couldn’t stop himself from ordering Tristan to get on with it. “What are you waiting for?” The answer came in a scalding flash of heat as Tristan pushed through his mental blocks and into his mind. The sensation tore a shout from him. He hadn’t been prepared for the pain, but he soon recovered.
Son of a bitch!

From somewhere in the shadows, Tristan answered. Finn heard the laughter in his voice.
My apologies—your blocking abilities are impressive for one who uses no magick.

I’m a warrior in every way Tristan. Magick is not the answer for all.

Perhaps, but they are the weapon of choice in this war.

Finn said nothing. He felt Tristan search through his mind. Confident that the task would take no more than a few passes, as the contact with the woman was still fresh in his memory. As were the emotions she had evoked. Seconds turned into minutes, and Finn felt himself grow apprehensive. Then, Tristan was back.

I have found it. It is very faint, barely a whisper. The woman is strong Finn. It was her that broke contact—although, it would seem that she had some assistance.

Finn remembered her mentioning medication. He felt Tristan’s interest and swore. He had forgotten to concentrate on blocking certain things out.
I don’t have a lot of information.

Tristan’s curious humor was more than he could take, as was his answer.
You have enough to know about the medication.

Gathering his energy, Finn threw Tristan out of his mind. Although it wasn’t a physical act, the effort was the same. Not waiting to see the reaction, he quickly rebuilt his blockades. Once he was confident that they were the strongest he could make, he followed the remnants of the energy Tristan had found. With the help of the others, the undertaking was made easy. He refused to dwell on the fact that once again he was lacking.

As he moved along the slips of energy, his arms tingled. It felt like tiny barbs, biting into his skin. Then, just as before, he came to the open space where the splinters of energy had been. However, where there had been disarray, there was now calmness. No doubt a result of the medication the woman had spoken of. Pushing further, he found a soft light the color of new grass. Feeling a jolt, and giving it the barest of acknowledgment, he sent a gentle wave of his energy towards the light.

At first, the light remained still. He felt the warmth of it, and for a moment, he allowed himself to take it in. Sadness, determination, quieted joy, all shifted through him. Yet the there was one thing, one feeling, that rivaled all of those. This woman, this possible Fragment, craved normalcy and she ached for balance in her life. Something moved deep within him, the desire to give her all that she wanted. He wanted to fight her battles, give her the balance, the normal life she yearned for. Finn surrounded the light with his energy and held tight—too tight. Her light began pulse.
I am not here to hurt you lass.

Her voice came to him and was stronger than before.
You need to leave me alone. I can’t do this again.

Again—what did she mean by that? Her energy flowed over him, he felt the curiousness. Her touch was soft but determined. She sought answers. Holding himself still, he allowed her perusal. When her energy retreated, when he felt her drift away from him, Finn blocked her. A name, at the very least, he needed to gain her name.
Tell me your name.

She pushed against the barrier he had thrown up, he sensed that it had been instinct; she didn’t seem to be aware that she was doing so.
Please, just go away.

Her plea tore at him, but Finn couldn’t relent.
Tell me your name, and I will leave you in peace.

It was a lie of course, but one that was necessary. He felt the others push more energy through to him to strengthen the blockade.

You are very bossy, did you know that?

He felt the amusement of the others, and was hard pressed not to let his own seep into the connection.
My apologize lass, I didn’t mean to offend you. All I ask is for your name.
He felt her hesitation and held his breath.