The Royal Hunter (39 page)

Archer nodded, ignoring the skepticism clear in his voice. “I just hope you don’t live to regret it. He’s … something.”

“Yes. He is that.” Baleweg cleared his throat and smoothed his robes. “Now I believe it is time for you to embark on your new direction.”

The triangle opened before them.

T
alia had no idea how long she had slept. The sun was streaming through the dormer windows when she finally opened her eyes. She felt as if she’d been hit by a truck.

She groaned as she rolled to her back. However long she’d slept, it hadn’t been long enough. She looked at the clock.
God, it was late
. She had to get up and feed and water the animals. She went to stretch, but her fingers cramped. She looked down and saw the blue ball still clutched tightly in her fist.

Oh!
Tears immediately sprang to her eyes as it all rushed back with painful, heart-wrenching clarity. She squeezed her eyes shut, wanting to go back to several seconds ago when she hadn’t remembered. But it was too late.

The images came pounding at her, assaulting her, and she was too weak to shut them off. Archer making love to her in that unbelievable bedroom. Catriona telling her that they were sisters. Connecting with her, feeling the baby despite all that horrendous pain.

Connecting with Archer.

Baleweg holding her hand and telling her not to forget. As if she could. Reaching for him, hoping that through him, she could help Archer and Catriona. That final connection snapping, the last
thing she remembered before she’d lost consciousness.

Maybe it had all been some sort of nightmare. A dream that she’d finally awoken from. It was certainly fantastical enough.

The luminous blue orb in her hand said otherwise.

As did the snowy owl perched at the foot of her bed.

At the sound of her scream, which had been more a hoarse croak, the owl merely turned his head and stared at her with big, dark eyes. Archer was right. It was there in the eyes. “Ringer?”

The owl bobbed its head.

“Oh, God. You’re still in Oz, Dorothy.”

Ringer lifted his wings, shook them out, and settled down again.

“How did you get here?” Then she remembered. The flash when Baleweg had backed through the triangle. “Little sneak.” Her voice was very rough, her throat even rougher. She needed to take a warm shower. An aspirin or ten wouldn’t hurt, either. But that meant leaving this bed, and she was pretty sure that wasn’t happening yet.

“How are you at making tea?”

Ringer merely blinked.

“That’s what I thought.” Talia looked toward the window, then at her clock. Stella and the girls were likely already at work. She laid her head back on her pillow. God, she really was home. It was almost impossible to imagine going back to her regular routine, her normal life.

But it wasn’t completely over. Baleweg had promised he’d come back and tell her what had happened. Her heart clutched as she thought of Catriona and the baby. And Archer. Whom she’d never see again. No. She wasn’t ready to handle that yet.

But she was grateful for Ringer’s presence. He was her only link. And she’d cling to that link without apology.

She heard the slam of a truck door. Stella. And her thoughts drifted back outside. She wondered what they’d say when they realized she was home. Then she remembered something else. Her truck was still at the hotel downtown. Well, that was the least of her problems at the moment. She was sure Stella would give her a lift into town to pick it up. How she’d explain being back without it, or Archer or Baleweg … much less the weakened condition she was in … she had no idea. She groaned, unwilling to think about it.

Thoughts of Archer crept back in, along with worries about whether or not Baleweg was able to get to Catriona in time. Certainly if the worst had happened, she’d have felt it when she reached out that last time, but she’d been so weak, it had taken all she’d had just to find Baleweg. It was only because of his strong mind that the link had been made at all.

And then the idea hit her that she could try again to connect with them. At best it would give her some idea of Baleweg’s success. She tried to sit up, but the wave of nausea and little twinkly lights blinking in front of her eyes drove her right back onto her pillow.

That was out of the question. At least for now. She stared at the ceiling, letting the totality of the experience finally filter in. Not the specific feelings, but the overall effect it had had on her. She marveled that she’d done it, but also shrank away from the toll it had taken. She didn’t think any amount of training or discipline would make that an easier ordeal. She’d done the wise thing in choosing the career path that she had. Veterinary medicine would have destroyed her for certain.

A strange peace settled over her then. And she realized it was the last of the guilt leaving her. She hadn’t let them down, or herself. She wasn’t a healer. Not in her time, or in her mother’s. And yet, as an empath, she had made a difference, she had saved lives. Many of them. Perhaps even Catriona’s and the baby’s.

The baby.

Her stomach clutched and her head throbbed anew. Baleweg had promised he’d let her know. She clung to that. If … if Catriona hadn’t survived the birth, then what was to be done with her son? Talia was his only living relative. Well, if you could call living several hundred years before his birth a living relative.

The headache pummeling her worsened and she had to let the whole train of thought go. There was nothing she could do at this point but wait. And worry.

No worries
. She heard Archer’s voice so clearly in her mind, her gaze shot to the door, half expecting him to be standing there. Seeing it empty only underscored just how empty she felt without him. Her heart ached. They hadn’t even said good-bye to one another. “Please just be okay,” she whispered.

Ringer bobbed his head again.

Talia tried to smile, tried to take that as a positive sign. Who knew, maybe the little shifter could feel things, too. In the end, the smile wobbled as tears tracked down her cheeks anyway. It was over. She was home. “Alone.”

Ringer hopped off her footboard and pecked at her toe, making her yelp. “Hey! Okay. Not alone. Jeez.”

He stretched his long wings, shook them, then refolded them. His owlish stare was unwavering.

“Of course,” she said softly. “He’ll come back for
you.” Then she shut her eyes tightly. “But what will he do about me?” Could she stand seeing him again, only to watch him walk away? No.

Yes
. Yes, if it meant seeing for herself that he was healthy and whole. Yes, if it meant being held by him, kissed by him, one more time. Even if it was a good-bye kiss. She needed that. They deserved at least that.

When Talia awoke the next time, it was with the knowledge that she’d been dreaming. Dreaming of Archer and their time together. She looked about the room, but didn’t see Ringer. It was very late, shadows were deep. Her stomach growled loudly. Surely that was a good sign.

But where was Ringer?

She didn’t like the spurt of panic that shot through her. There was a desperate feel to it, as if Ringer were her only insurance and without him … No, no, she couldn’t do this to herself. She’d already pinned far too much to Ringer’s presence. She was going to have to get on with her life. Alone.

Just then a black furry thing leaped up and landed on her chest. She shrieked and batted at it, sending it flying toward her feet. Only when it rolled and landed on its feet, staring back at her with yellow eyes that were somehow familiar, did she realize. “Jesus, Ringer.” She blew out a deep breath. “We’re going to have to talk about this.”

She sank back on her pillow, willing her heart to settle down. When it did, she realized she felt a tiny bit better. Not great by any stretch, but not as shaky. Maybe if she took things very slowly, she could make it to the bathroom. And if that went well, downstairs for some warm tea and toast. Actually, what she wanted was a huge steak and an ice-cold beer. But
since her stomach recoiled violently even at the thought, she figured she’d have to settle for toast.

She very carefully rolled to a sitting position. And that was as far as she got for a good five minutes. That was how long it took for the cold sweats to go away. She considered calling the phone in the kennel office and asking Stella for help. But she wasn’t up to explaining anything.

What would she say? What
could
she say? The whole thing had been an amazing adventure. But adventures were only fun for a while. She admitted then that she was thankful to be home. This was where she belonged. She wasn’t the type to live for adventure. Not like Archer.

“Well, that was depressing.”

She already knew that they weren’t destined to be together, but she really didn’t want further proof at the moment, thank you. So she blessedly shut down the whole avenue of thought and put all her concentration on what was of utmost importance to her right now. Getting to the bathroom.

A week passed and Talia had almost regained her full strength. She still tired easily, but she was back at work, glad to be around Stella. Everyone at the Lodge had sent over get-well cards filled with notes on all kinds of herbal and holistic remedies, along with a casserole they’d made in cooking class and some handmade tissue-paper flowers. She’d been so touched she’d cried for an hour. But she cried easily these days. She blamed it on her illness, but she knew it was more than that.

Archer’s absence from her life was still like a living thing inside her. It wasn’t going away, it wasn’t dulling with time. And it didn’t help that Stella looked at her with such sorrow in her eyes.

Talia had had to fabricate a huge story about her sudden return, a return that had left her truck in the city. She had ended up telling them that they hadn’t had such a wonderful time and she’d come down with a bug and taken a taxi home. Stella had been crushed that their romance hadn’t worked out. She’d been so certain, she told Talia. Talia had finally all but begged her to not mention it anymore. So now she just got those looks instead. Not much of an improvement, but at least she didn’t have to talk about him.

She stood on the front porch and waved good-bye as Stella and Tugger, along with one of her parttimers, left for the day. They’d brought her truck back for her, saving her the drive, which she still wasn’t really up to.

Talia scanned the area for Ringer. She could always tell it was him, whatever form he took. The eyes were always the giveaway. Fortunately he seemed to understand she was the only one he could reveal his true nature to. She had lived in mortal fear the first week or so that he’d change in front of Stella or one of her other workers.

There was no sign of him at the moment, so she went inside, fixed a cup of Miss Helen’s Revitalizing Rutabaga and Rosehip Tea, which was actually quite good, then found herself wandering down to the kennels. Stella had taken in a rescue during her brief absence and Talia had found herself taking over full care for the little guy. Something about him had tugged at her right from the first … and she’d given in to it rather than throwing up her usual barriers. This morning was the first time the pup had shown the beginnings of trust. She smiled now just thinking about it.

She let herself in quietly and stopped several feet
away, not wanting him to see her, just wanting to observe. He was a shy one, usually staying in the back of his run when anyone walked by. But she’d observed that he was somewhat more confident with the other dogs, even defending his area with a swagger and occasional growl or yip. Since he was all of ten pounds, this was amusing—as well as being a very good sign. His will hadn’t been totally beaten into submission.

Her heart tugged when she thought about the connections she’d made with him, the pain he was still recovering from. Any other time she’d have stepped back, protected herself. But she simply couldn’t with this one. Or maybe she just didn’t want to.

Her persistence and patience had paid off this morning. He hadn’t slunk back when she approached. He hadn’t come closer, but he hadn’t run. Right now he was wrestling a knotted piece of denim into submission. Another good sign.
Work out those frustrations, little guy
. Talia smiled. He’d take some time, but he’d make it. They both would. She felt her eyes burn as she came to the decision she’d known she’d been approaching all week.