Page 5 of Dark Medicine (Strange Gifts #2)

Fiona was wide-awake at seven as planned and in her running gear. She packed a small overnight bag with a few items, deciding it might be nice to stay at the bed and breakfast where she normally changed clothes. Her apartment was small and cramped, and it would be good to get out of the city for the weekend. Monday was a holiday, so she wouldn’t have to go in and face Mr. Malone until Tuesday.

Pulling into the light Saturday morning traffic, she headed toward her favorite bakery and picked up a few scones and coffee for her and Adam for breakfast. By the time she pulled up to the Sherbourne, Adam was waiting patiently on the front steps, overnight bag in hand.

“Good morning,” she said, smiling at him through the open window.

“Good morning,” he said, tossing his items in the back seat. “You’re chipper this morning.”

“I’m a morning person,” she said, smiling at him.

She watched as his long, muscled legs flexed through the loose-fitting fleece pants. He had on a long-sleeved thermal tee with the Army logo across the front. Fiona could picture him in his uniform, and an unfamiliar warmth spread through her stomach and to her loins.

“Do I smell coffee?” he asked, clicking his seatbelt in place.

“You do,” she said, handing him the piping hot cup. “I also bought a few things from the bakery. I figured you didn’t have time to eat this morning.”

“I didn’t, so thank you.” He sipped the black coffee and dug in the bag, finding a cinnamon scone. He handed Fiona her coffee and another scone. “So, tell me why it isn’t safe for a woman to run by herself in Wicklow.”

“You remembered that, did you?” she said with a small grin.

“I rarely forget anything that has to do with a woman’s safety, particularly a woman I’m interested in and find exceptionally beautiful.”

Fiona looked sideways at him. He was so sure of himself, so confident and secure in speaking with her. For the first time, she noticed that he was easily ten years older than she was. The smattering of silver through his jet-black hair was more visible in the daylight, but it did little to deter from his classic features.

Blessed with a granite jaw, a perfectly angled nose, high sharp cheekbones, and the most beautiful mouth Fiona had ever seen, Adam Thorn was beyond handsome. His blue eyes drew her in every time she looked at him. He was simply spectacular.

“If you’re done assessing me, I’d like an answer,” he said casually.

“Oh geez! Sorry, Adam, it’s just that, well, I’ve never met anyone like you. I mean, I’ve dated men, not recently, but you’re different.”

“Different how?”

“I don’t know. More, more confident, more secure in yourself, more mature.”

“So, I’m old,” he said with a grin.

“That’s not what I said at all. But since you brought it up, how old are you?”

“I’m thirty-seven. How old are you?”

“I’m twenty-seven,” she said. Adam raised an eyebrow. She was a few years older than he’d originally thought, but still, ten years was quite a separation.

“Now, running at Wicklow alone,” he asked impatiently.

“Christ, you must have gone to the same military school as my brother. You just don’t give up. All right, already. I used to run up there every weekend, both days, Saturday and Sunday. I have a friend who owns a bed and breakfast, and I would stay up there or just use it as a place to change.” She looked at his face, waiting patiently for the story to conclude.

“Anyway, I went up one weekend about two months ago and started my run on Saturday. She told me to be careful as there were gypsies in the area, and they’d been aggressive with some of the locals.”

“Gypsies? Like, wagons and pickpockets?” he asked.

“Not exactly, but sort of. Ireland has a large population of gypsies who travel around in travel trailers and just set up camp wherever they feel like it. They don’t like to be called gypsies. They prefer their ethnic name of Romany. Most are hardworking and find honest jobs. But there are always those that ruin it for others.” She took a deep breath and turned onto the main highway headed to Wicklow.

“So, I went for my morning run. I was about halfway through when three men stepped out from beneath a small stone bridge. At first, I wasn’t going to stop, but they spread out across the road as if to block it.”

Adam curled his hands into fists, rubbing his thighs hard. Men who abused women, children, or animals were the lowest form of beings, in his opinion.

“I asked them to move, but they said they wanted me to join them for a party. When I refused, one of them reached out for me. I kicked him in the groin hard. His mates didn’t like that and started towards me. My brother taught me to punch hard in the throat, so I did. The second one fell, and I knew that was my chance. I started running. He tried to run after me, but I’m fast, and I was warmed up.”

“Did you report it to the police?” he asked.

“I did. They said they’d moved on, but I gave a description anyway. The thing is, the next day, I decided I would run again, but took some pepper spray with me. They were in the same place again, but I saw them quick enough to turn around before they saw me. They hadn’t moved on at all.”

“Did you go back to the authorities?”

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “My friend said they most likely had paid the authorities to ignore their presence. It was the last time I ran up there alone. I’ve been a few times with friends, but most don’t run as far as me.”

“Well, there’s no guarantee I’ll run as far as you either, but I won’t let you run alone,” he said, reaching for her hand. There it was again, the zap up his arm. She had no ailments, no bruises, no scrapes, nothing. “Your hands are healed.”

She whipped her head quickly to stare at him. He was calm and cool as he held her hand, palm up. Fiona tried to pull her hand away, but he held tightly.

“Wh-what do you mean?”

“I saw, Fiona. I saw your hand was scraped pretty bad last night. It’s completely healed this morning,” he said.

“You’re mistaken. It was just a small scrape. I put some cream on it, and it was great this morning,” she lied. She hated lying to this man. She lied to every person she’d ever known who picked up on her little “gift,” but somehow, lying to this man made her stomach hurt.

“Maybe I was mistaken,” he said calmly, not wanting her to become frightened and leave. “You said your brother had military training?”

“He did,” she said quietly. Adam sensed it was a subject she did not want to discuss. Watching her features go from happy and light-hearted to sad was not something he wanted on his shoulders.

Fiona said nothing else on the long drive up to the national park. When they reached a turn-off where other hikers and runners parked, she opened the door and quickly sucked in a breath of cool, fresh mountain air.

Adam unfolded from her small car and stretched. It was beautifully clear. The mountains stretched out before them. The hills were covered in pink and purple heather, large granite boulders marring the sides of hills, drops of morning dew littered the fields glistening like diamonds in the sun. It was stunning, like a scene from a movie.

Fiona watched Adam take in the surroundings. She was glad that he liked the view. She knew it was her Irish pride, but she wanted him to like it.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” she asked. He grinned at her and nodded. “Are you ready?”

“Lead the way,” he said, waving his big hand toward the trail.

Fiona started at a moderate pace, warming her legs and arms. Within ten minutes, she felt her adrenaline kick in and the need to kick it up a notch or two. Adam was close behind her, and she noticed that his breathing was even and sure. Impressive.

Kicking her heels, she picked up speed and moved around the curves of the trail easily. Following the bend around the large lake and the old Guinness house, she kept peeking over her shoulder to be sure she hadn’t lost Adam. He was still there, still running, and no problems keeping up. She was genuinely impressed now. Running was a passion, a necessity for Fiona, and any man in her life would need to understand it or become a part of it.

Fiona was easily keeping a six-minute mile, and they were probably five or six miles into the run. Adam was keeping up but hoped she didn’t do her full twenty today. He could keep this pace for ten or twelve, but twenty… no way!

The trail led to a narrow two-lane road, and Fiona stepped out with Adam catching up and running by her side. She smiled at him, and he smiled back, giving her a playful wink. As they approached the bridge, she swallowed hard as two men appeared from beneath the old stones.

“Fuck!” she whispered.

“Stay behind me,” said Adam, stepping in front of her.

“Well, well, lookie here, boys. Our hot little cunt of a redhead brought reinforcements.” A greasy-haired man of about forty with a heavy belly and nicotine-stained teeth smiled at the two. He was the leader, but Adam could tell he was all mouth and bumbling skill.

“We don’t want trouble,” said Adam, trying to avoid the inevitable. “Just let us pass.”

“Oh, you’ll pass, boyo, but she comes with us,” said the other man. Adam noticed a third man had moved behind him, holding a long wooden stick similar to a baseball bat.

“Yea, that’s not happening,” said Adam.

He turned sharply with a roundhouse kick landing his size thirteen shoe to the side of the man’s head. The man dropped as if hit by a boulder, his body making a loud thud against the paved road. The bat clattered to the road, and Fiona picked it up, holding it securely to her side.

The two men standing in front of them looked wide-eyed at Adam and then back at Fiona. The younger man looked at pork belly and shook his head.

“We should get outta here, Roman,” he said.

“Shut up! We don’t get paid without her,” he whispered.

It was all Adam needed to hear. He dodged forward, landing a hard right to the older man’s jaw, and then crushed his elbow to his nose. The man dropped, blood pouring from his mouth and nose, but he was out cold.

Adam turned quickly and swept his legs to the back of the younger man’s knees. He dropped hard, grunting and crying out from the pain.

“What the ‘feck! Just let me go,” he squealed.

“You’re going to tell me who wants Fiona and why,” Adam asked as he pressed his knee into the man’s chest.

“I… I don’t know who. Roman knows,” he said, looking at the bleeding man beside him.

“Why?” The man didn’t speak. He didn’t move, just looked at Fiona, terrified. “I asked you a question, asshole. Answer me, or I will fucking kill you right here.” He pressed his knee harder, and the man gasped for air.

“She’s a healer! They want her. For money…” he panted.

Fiona opened her mouth to protest, but Adam gave her a small shake of his head. She stared at him, wondering how he could have known. Her hands started to shake, and she realized that she was suddenly very cold, perhaps a side effect of shock. Adam had moved so proficiently and so perfectly, she hadn’t known what happened. He said he was a doctor. Did doctors in the Army move like that?

“Listen to me, you little shit,” said Adam, “you take a message to whatever piece of garbage is behind this. You tell him for me that no one touches Fiona. No one or they will answer to me.”

“Wh-who are you? Are you some hired American gun?” he asked.

“That’s right. I’m a hired American gun. The baddest of the badasses. You come near her, and I will fucking kill every one of you, and I will start with your women and children.”

Adam would never harm women or children unless they were armed and attempting to harm him or those he loved. But he needed this boy to be scared and take his message seriously. He'd done more than his fair share of killing while deployed, but this wasn’t exactly where he thought a hotbed of activity would be.

“Okay! Okay, I’ll tell them,” he squeaked out.

Adam lifted his knee from the boy’s chest and reached for Fiona’s hand. Her other was still grasping the bat tightly. The man behind her stirred slightly, the other one still lying in a pool of his own blood.

“Let’s go,” he said, pulling her toward him. “Can you run?”

She nodded but held to the bat. He reached for it, gripping both ends, he snapped it over his knee like a twig. A loud crack echoed through the hills, and he tossed the pieces into the creek below. The young boy stared wide-eyed at Adam.

“Let’s go, honey,” he said, grabbing her hand.

They jogged slowly at first, side by side, and then Fiona picked up the pace again and took off like a demon on a mission. She ran so fast and so furious Adam struggled to keep up. Just as he was about to yell at her, he noticed her heaving shoulders. She was sobbing uncontrollably, fear forcing her to run faster.

“Fiona, stop! Fiona! Stop!” he yelled.

She stopped, a sudden hard stop, and looked up at him. Her blue eyes were swimming in tears, and his heart nearly exploded. Pulling her tight against him, he held her while she cried, gasping for air.

“It’s okay, baby, it’s okay,” he whispered, rubbing her back. “Come on. We’re close now. Let’s walk the rest of the way.”

Adam held her hand all the way to the car. Once in the car, he took the wheel and programmed the address of the B&B where his friends were staying. Fiona leaned her head against the window, ragged breaths coming between sobs. The last time she had been scared but thought it was a one-time incident. This time, they said they were after her. How could anyone know about her?

Looking up, she noticed that the car had stopped. Adam pulled into the parking area for the B&B, and Fiona looked at him with confusion.

“How did you know this is where I was going?” she asked. He looked at her and back at the large estate.

“I didn’t,” he said casually, “it’s where I needed to go and where my friends are. Let’s get showered and changed. You and I need to talk.”