Page 17

Chapter Sixteen

T he night after they had all been freed, the McKeran put on a party in the bailey, gathering the entire clan and all their vassals to dance, drink and eat together in a marvelous celebration. Some of the men played pipes and drums, others sang old songs together as they tapped whiskey kegs and roared with laughter.

It should have all been wonderful for Olivia to see, but she could only wander around trying to hide the fact that she was aimless and moping.

“The laird told me the binding ceremony shall be held in another moon,” she heard Farlan telling a group of maids, who appeared disappointed. “That should give all time to recover and prepare.”

“We’ve never held the ceremony in spring,” one of the kitchen maids complained. “’Tisnae tradition. ”

“’Tis our lord’s command,” the seneschal told her. “I reckon he also wants naught to interrupt the new matches to be made.”

Everyone seemed to be talking or bickering about that, Olivia thought, even more depressed. Alec couldn’t join in the ceremony because he was only half-mortal, but that wouldn’t stop him from taking another lover whenever he wanted. Inga was certainly his match in looks. Elspeth had a dark beauty that no one else could rival. In fact she could only name one woman he would never again take as a lover.

You cannae have me, Mistress Gibson.

Finally, she looked for and found the one McKeran she suspected could explain things.

Rory smiled at her as she sat down across from him.

“My thanks for freeing me and my brothers, my lady,” he said in a voice so low it barely registered.

From the scent of whiskey that came from him, he’d been drinking. At the same time, he didn’t seem intoxicated. In his eyes, strange greenish-brown glints sparkled in the blue irises, and when he smiled he looked so magnificent that several maids nearby squealed. He seemed to know everyone’s secrets, and there was only one way he could be capable of that.

“You can come into other people’s dreams, can’t you?” Olivia told him, noting that he didn’t bat an eyelash in reaction. “That’s how you know so much about everyone—about Alec.” When he shrugged she grew a little annoyed. “Why didn’t you ever try and help him, Mr. Armorer?”

“He doesnae wish to be helped or loved. ’Tis why he’s sent you away.” He watched her face for a moment. “And you wish to ken what made him do thus.”

She nodded. “You seem to be the guy with all the answers.”

“Secrets, they’re as graves where we bury the parts of ourselves we hate.” His gorgeous multicolor eyes shifted past her, and pain flickered across his flawless features for a moment. “’Tis no’ my place to speak for Alec.”

“The barn you showed me in the dream.” She frowned. “That’s his secret. That’s where Alec slept on his grandfather’s farm. He already told me about how he was chained up in there.”

“’Tis more that makes the barn his prison, unless you free him.” The armorer got up, bowed politely to her, and walked back into the stronghold. As he did he cast a single glance at the clan’s chatelaine, who was standing and watching Tasgall and Ava on the other side of the room.

“Figure it out on my own, got it.” She rose and made her way through a group of clansmen slapping each other on the back, grinning as they bowed to her, and joined Darro and Farlan. “Chieftain, have you seen Alec lately?”

“Aye, my lady.” He nodded in the direction of the garrison hall. “He’s just met with our patrol captains, and likely should come soon.”

“He’s hiding from her,” the seneschal told him, and then said to Olivia, “Alec rarely joins our celebrations. ’Tis his habit to hide in his chamber in the garrison hall until midnight, and then roam the passages until dawn again.”

“The eejit.” Darro rubbed the back of his neck. “Shall I escort you to our war master, my lady? I’d be glad to knock some sense into his thick skull.”

“That’s all right, chieftain. I have my own way of doing that,” she assured him.

Olivia didn’t rehearse anything in her head as she went into the garrison hall. She needed more facts from Alec and getting him to talk was going to be hard enough. Using what she’d learned from her therapist, she had to help Alec on the path to healing from the wounds he’d concealed from everyone. Until he faced them he would always be in pain.

Like you could help him. You couldn’t even help yourself, you stupid little freak.

Mae’s ghost appeared in her mind, just as she always did: hair scraped back so tight it pulled the skin at her temples into tiny peaks, an ankle-length dark skirt, and a blouse a size too large for her raw-boned frame. She frowned so much the corners of her mouth remained bowed toward her chin; Olivia couldn’t remember once seeing her smile—and in her eyes, so dark brown they almost looked black, that bitter sharpness that could only be chased away by one of her rages.

Aren’t you going to sass me back? Mae waved a hand behind her eyes. It’s what you like to do since running away from home. That and blaming me for all your foolishness.

All of her aunt’s fingernails had been bitten down so often, Olivia noticed for the first time, that the tops of her fingertips rolled over the ragged edges.

It had always been easy in the past to launch into another silent argument with her birth mother. Yet for once Olivia didn’t experience the desire to do so. She looked at the woman who had never wanted her, who had been sick and terrified, who had taken out all her self-loathing on a child who couldn’t escape her. Nor had Mae been able to run away from the accidental fallout from a young love affair. They had both been trapped by circumstances beyond their control.

It was time to end this once and for all.

There’s no reason for us to fight anymore. You have no power over me. You haven’t since you died. You’ll never be able to hurt me again, even in my memories.

Olivia knew then what she had to do—what she had put off for far too long—because she would never stop thinking of her until she did.

“I forgive you for what you did to me, Mother,” she said. “Rest in peace.”

The fantasy of Mae began to turn dark and shrink down, disappearing into a puddle of ash that collapsed in on itself before it disappeared.

For a moment Olivia thought she might cry, but no, she had shed the last of her tears over the past. She didn’t need the love of a mother who had never wanted her. From now on she was going to get on with her life, and fight for the love of the man who did. She continued on into the garrison hall, where several guards bowed to her.

“Is he in his chamber?” she asked them, and when they nodded she smiled. “Thank you.”

“My lady, he’s...” One of the guards grimaced as another elbowed him in the side. “She should ken,” he told the other man before he said to her, “Our war master, he’s in a black mood. ’Tisnae a good time to disturb him.”

“I’m the reason he’s moody,” Olivia assured him. “I’ll take care of it.”

The men grinned at her as she set off down the passage that led to Alec’s quarters. For the first time she realized that it stood at the very front of the men’s rooms, and not in the tower, where the man in charge of the garrison should have been quartered. Alec never set himself above his brothers, even in his duty. She wondered if he’d taken the spot so he would be the first one an infiltrator would find.

He would die for them—but will he live for me?

Olivia stopped in front of Alec’s door and considered barging in, but that might only make the situation worse. Instead, she knocked and waited.

Alec yanked open the door, clearly ready to order her away, but then he stepped back and cleared his throat. “How may I serve, my lady?”

“You can’t. You’re not my servant.” Rather than let him slam the door in her face, she brushed past him and walked to the hearth, which was almost burned out. Crouching to add some wood shavings onto the coals, she blew on them until they caught fire, and then began to build a teepee of thin kindling sticks over it.

“Stop.” He brought over a bucket with wood splits and thumped it down next to her. When she didn’t, he told her, “I ken how to build a fire, Mistress Gibson.”

“The guys warned me how obnoxious you’d be, and boy, were they right. They like me, by the way.” Once the flames had flared enough she added two splits over the kindling, bracing them at an angle.

“You shouldnae come here alone,” Alec muttered. “’Tisnae permitted.”

“ Now you’re going to stick to the rules.” She then stood and turned to face him, making him step back again. “Apparently you’ve forgotten that we’ve had dream sex as well as the real thing in the stables. You know, before we defeated the ice beetles and saved everyone?”

Alec’s shoulders stiffened, but he said nothing.

“Remember how both times that very wild, hot, crazy silent sex nearly wrecked both of us?” She huffed out a sigh. “Do you want me to show you where the bruises were on my bottom and breasts before the spell trap healed them? Or the little scar you left when you bit me on my–”

“’Tisnae seemly to speak of such,” he said, his voice tight, but he still wouldn’t look at her. “We’re no’ married. I owe you naught.”

“No, you don’t,” she said with all the patience she had left. “We can agree that I was more than willing. We didn’t make any promises to each other. What I don’t understand is why you’re hiding from me now. Are you ashamed of having sex with me?”

“You deserve better than me, lass,” Alec said, moving away from her .

Olivia couldn’t believe it. He was talking as if she were the gorgeous one, and he was unworthy of her. Had he lost his mind?

We’re the same.

From the first moment they met Alec had recognized her suffering as being equal to his own. Later, when she’d told him about her childhood, and how Mae locked away and abused her, he had comforted her, but he’d already known it would be bad, too—she hadn’t shocked him. Surely he could see that she would understand whatever had been done to him.

She would have to drag it out of him. If she didn’t, they would never have a chance.

“I deserve better than you, huh? Who would you suggest I seduce next?” she asked, turning her back on him and wandering around the room. “Ava is married to Tasgall, and I’m not a home wrecker, so the laird is off-limits. I think Rory is in love with someone else, and he’s super-sized, which doesn’t really appeal to me. I guess even though I’m like other women now I still think of myself as small. Anyway, Farlan seems nice enough, and he’s a little less gigantic than Darro. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind–”

Before she could get out the last words Alec strode over, seized her shoulders and made her face him. “Dinnae tease me with such, Olivia. I’m no’ made of ice. ”

“That’s not what the maids say,” she countered. “Why do you think I’d want anyone else, Alec? I chose you as my lover in the stables. In my dreams, too. You’re the one for me.”

His expression darkened. “You didnae ken if we’d survive the MacBren.”

“So it was just one more romp for you. I get it.” They were almost there; Olivia could sense it. She just needed to push him a little more. “Tell me, is the gossip true? Do you ignore all women because you’re still in love with some girl left back in the twelfth century. Is that why you’ve slept alone for nine hundred years?”

Alec gave her a shake. “Cease your taunting, you reckless wench.”

“Then talk to me. Tell me this thing you’ve kept secret from your brothers and me and everyone else here.” She let all the love she had for him fill her eyes as she met his gaze. “I’m right here, and I want to be with you. Only you, for the rest of my life. You’re all I’ve wanted since the night I fell into your arms.”

“You dinnae ken what you ask.” Alec looked away, his eyes shifting toward the stables.

That was it, Olivia realized. That was why he’d made love to her in the hayloft. Why he had been so desperate to kiss and hold her.

“Rory showed me something in a dream that I didn’t understand, but I think I do now,” she said softly. “It’s time you came out of that barn, Alec.”

He tried to shove her away, but a moment later he was pressing her against him as if he wanted their bodies to merge together. She hated herself for pushing him so hard, but they were almost there.

“You don’t have to tell me anything.” Breaking point or not, Olivia knew she still had to give him an out. “I don’t care about who you were, or what you did. All that counts with me is who you are now.”

His chest heaved against her, and he didn’t say anything for so long that Olivia wondered if he ever would. Then, in a very low voice, he said, “They came for me at night, after my grandsire slept.”

He described for her what had happened after he’d been chained and left alone in the barn every night on his grandfather’s farm. How from the time he was just a little boy until his early teenage years, the dairy maids and village girls had crept inside and molested him. They’d kissed and touched him, and rubbed their bodies against his, putting their hands inside his clothes to grope his genitals as they licked and bit him. They took turns, one holding him down while another assaulted him.

“They told me I’d like it, but I never did,” he said, his voice tight.

Alec told her how he worked out ways with which to defend himself against his nightly visitors. He grew adept at using his feet and legs to kick and drive them back. When there were too many to stop he would climb up the chains attached to his shackles to wedge himself in the barn rafters.

“They took their revenge on me by spreading word in the village of how my grandsire shackled me every night.” He met her gaze, his own dark and wretched. “Jealous shepherds and village lads came to make me suffer for luring the wenches to me. They proved harder to drive away. Sometimes they caught me sleeping and beat me so badly I’d still be covered in bruises and blood when my grandsire came to release me at dawn.”

Because Alec was half-Fae he always survived the injuries inflicted on him, and healed by the next night, which made the boys hate him even more. Yet in the end it was what the girls had done to him that had inflicted wounds that had never healed.

“For years after I joined the clan I couldnae look at a female without remembering what those wenches did to me,” he said finally. “When a maid tried to touch me, those nights would come back in my thoughts at once. I’d have to run to a privy to keep from boaking on them. Indeed, I wondered if I’d ever overcome my aversion to females.”

“You mean that you never chose anyone to love before me. Even before the curse.” As he nodded, a cold, gripping horror seized Olivia. “Alec, if I did anything–”

“No, my dreòlan . Nine centuries I’ve been unable to touch a female without remembering. Then you came to me. I dinnae how I ken thus, or why, only you were mine.” He kissed her brow. “You brought out in me pure, clean desire. You made me understand at last. With your generous kindness, and unwavering affection, I soon saw how ’twould be.”

“You still should have told me.” She blinked hard to keep from crying. “I would never have done anything to make you uncomfortable or remind you of those girls who hurt you.”

“You couldnae, my wee wren.” He pressed his hand against her cheek. “We’re the same, you and me. You see past my face. When I show you the ugliness I’ve hidden, you dinnae turn away from me. You’re the only woman I’ve ever truly wanted. The only lady I want in my arms, in my bed, in my heart. I love you, Olivia.”

“And I love you just as much.” She looked up at him. “So why don’t I deserve you? I think you certainly deserve me.”

“My grandsire’s blood runs through my veins,” he said slowly. “’Tis made me an angry man, filled with mistrust. I cannae abide most females. Aye, I’ve the beauty in my face, but only rage and hatred in my heart.” He stroked his thumb across her cheekbone. “Never shall I deserve you. For all my beauty, no one can love me.”

“You’re wrong. Tasgall loves you. So does Ava.” She smiled. “I know you trust and care for her because she saved the laird’s life. You’ve already said you love me. You’re changing, Alec. You’re finally healing.”

“Would that I could,” he said, kissing her brow.

“I can tell you how to stop hating those who abused you in the past.” She linked her hands behind his neck. “Do you really want to get over what they did to you?”

His mouth flattened, but he nodded.

“All you have to do is forgive them.” She didn’t look away from the pain in his eyes. “I know how hard that is. It took me ten years and coming here to forgive my mother. What made it possible was meeting you and discovering that loving you was more important than hating her.”

Alec closed his eyes for a moment and bent to press his brow to hers. “’Tis the same for me.”

“It doesn’t have to be something you do in this moment, either,” Olivia assured him. “It will happen when it’s supposed to. Just be with me, Alec, and let that be enough for now. Let love be enough. ”

He cradled her face between his palms. “Aye, my lady. My love.”

I n the end all that remained of Clagden’s lover was a black mark on the gallery floor. Jean had whined and begged for her life, offering Bodach her wealth and property as well as her body to keep him from slaying her. Since she was half-vampire the end didn’t take very long; the red crystal particularly enjoyed feeding on the stolen mortal life energy that empowered her variety of dark Fae. Once he’d finished that task he went back to shut off the gallery’s lights, wishing he had been able to trust the gallery director. Having Clagden as a servant for a short time had proven very useful, and with a woman instead Bodach could have used her for sex.

“Ah, well, I’m better off this way,” he told himself as he considered whether or not to set fire to the place. “I should have had her once before I ended her. They always get so much more hysterical after their false hopes are smashed.” Something rattled over by the windows at the back of the gallery, and he heard a quickly inhaled breath.

Someone was watching him.

“You may as well show yourself,” he said. “If I have to hunt you down and drag you out, you won’t like what follows.”

The whey-faced bookkeeper stepped out from behind a curtain and looked at him as she walked up. “Did you come back for me?”

He’d forgotten that Clagden hadn’t actually murdered this one. “Not precisely, my dear, but I am quite happy to see you.” He patted the bulge of his erection.

“No, you’re not.” She smirked at him. “You think I’m a loose end that you have to tie up now.”

“Stop looking at me like that,” he chided, “or I’ll rip off your face.”

“I can’t help it. The last time she fed on me my face went numb on that side.” The bookkeeper gave him a crooked grimace. “You’re going to kill me the same way you did Jean, aren’t you? You’ll turn me to black ash with that glittery red thing?”

“Perhaps.” An unwilling admiration for her stamina made him add, “You’re certainly quite perceptive for a mortal. You are completely human, I hope.”

“I am. I wanted to die long before Jean hired me. That’s why I never tried to run away.” She knelt down before him. “You’ll be doing me a favor, Mister.”

Bodach reached out and put his hand on the top of her head, which allowed him to ransack her memories. Thanks to an entire family of abusers her childhood had been utterly atrocious, worse than even what Olivia Gibson had endured. Somehow the girl had survived and escaped them by marrying the wrong man, which had resulted in six more years of terror and suffering. After a narrow escape from her psychopathic husband, she had come here to live on the fringes of society under an assumed name. Each night she went home to a tiny studio apartment to make and eat the cheap, terrible food that was all she could afford. The rest of the time she read books she had checked out from the library, mended her shabby clothes, or watched the cars drive by from her window.

The bookkeeper had no friends, no money and no prospects, and left on her own she likely would soon resort to suicide.

He had never shown sympathy to mortals, even those who richly deserved some compassion. Yet as he took the red crystal from his pocket, he recalled the night long ago when his goblin mother had dragged him into the execution cave. He had suffered just as much as this girl—more, thanks to his parents—and in that moment he had been almost happy to face his end.

“What is your name, girl?” Bodach asked.

“Rona Dickens.” Her upper lip curled on one side. “ Please be quick. I just want it to be over and done with now.”

He recalled the way Rona had responded to him while they’d watched Clagden and Jean mate, and put his hand under her chin, lifting it until he could look into her eyes. No tears, and no interest, just acceptance. She reminded him of anorexics and battered wives who were too far gone to be saved. His favorite type of female, if he were to be honest. They had a kind of serenity and acceptance of pain that made them strangely beautiful to him.

If she actually was too far gone...

“Hold out your hand, Rona.” When she did he placed a red crystal on her palm. “This might be quick, or it might give you a reason to live.”

Instead of turning her mortal flesh black it cast a glittery scarlet glow that spread up her arm, flooding into her pale face like an innocent’s blush. Her dull brown eyes took on a faint reddish cast as the crystal filled her with healing power instead of draining the life from her. Her hair changed from dishwater blonde to auburn, and her skin took on a much healthier color. Even her baggy, drab garments changed into fine, flame-colored silks with delicate embroidery and intricate lace. By the time the crystal went dark she had been transformed into a rare beauty, and slowly stood looking down at herself with wide eyes.

“Why did you do this to me?” Rona whispered.

“I didn’t.” He wondered for a moment if he’d made a mistake, given the degree of her transformation. Yet perhaps the Fae crystal wanted to provide him with more than power now. “Do you still wish to die?”

She shook her head.

“Then you will live to serve me now.” Bodach fingered a lock of her vibrant hair, which crackled with tiny red lights of glamour. “When I summon you to me, you will come at once. Whatever I ask of you, you will do happily. When I want to make use of you, you will spread your legs for me, and perform any act I desire.” He leaned closer and deliberately grabbed her sex through her skirts, tightened his grasp until she made a piteous sound. “Refuse me, or disobey me, and I will make Jean’s treatment of you seem like pampered coddling.”

Rona slid her hands up his chest, her eyes filling with a masochistic glee. “Yes, Master.”

He had her up against the window, tearing down the curtain in the process. Dragging her out into the gallery, he rolled her onto her belly and took her on all fours, lightly choking her while using her as roughly as he wished. She climaxed so many times she passed out atop the puddle of ash that had once been her employer.

Of course, Rona had loved it. The only attention she’d ever had from anyone had been abusive, which made her the perfect mate for him.

Bodach finished and carried her out to his car, placing her in the passenger seat before he turned to regard the gallery for a long moment. Snapping his fingers, he waited until he saw flames fill the front windows, and then climbed in and drove off toward McKeran’s Castle.

K illing two enchanted bats should have been easy for Torra MacBren, but she had been too drained from helping Alec and Olivia with the golachs. She could still sense the creatures out on the very border of the spell trap, lurking and watching. Something was very wrong with that pair since the tampering spell had been cast over them. The same could be said of time in the spell trap as well. A night had turned to day within a few minutes, and none of that had been her doing, either. Added to that the cycle of events going off schedule so that her father had arrived a week earlier than he should have, and it made for a troubling tangle.

These changes shall bring naught but more misfortune.

She moved through the stronghold unnoticed as always, assuring that the clan had recovered from their latest trials. Elspeth, the first to be frozen, seemed to be avoiding Ben and Ulf. Those three had come closer to what they wanted, but they still had a way to go. She was pleased to see the laird and his lady making the rounds as well; they cared just as much for their people as they did for each other—the hallmark of true leaders.

Torra finally found Alec and Olivia in the war master’s garrison quarters, where they bolted the door and were kissing and undressing each other. They were beautiful together, and she sighed with a bit of envy before retreating to give them their much-deserved privacy. She had always wanted to fall in love, but no man had ever touched her heart.

As she drifted down the passage toward the clansmen’s quarters, a large figure came around the corner in front of her, sending her reeling back into one of the walls. She watched him from the stone that encased her spirit; he could not possibly have seen her.

“Thank you, my lady,” Rory McKeran said, and bowed to the wall before continuing on his way.

THE END