Page 28 of The Gods Time Forgot

Twenty-Eight

The universe demanded balance, and their kiss in the library only confirmed it. Rua’s mouth, warm and inviting, had brought him to a level of ecstasy he’d never thought possible. With that kiss came a revelation, an answer to a question gnawing at the back of his mind.

He and Rua were at odds. Enemies in the truest sense of the word. And he was C ú Chulainn, though he hadn’t the slightest idea how it could be possible.

Perhaps her kiss had driven him to madness.

His thoughts were unmanageable, but a larger question remained, one he wasn’t sure he’d ever get an honest answer to: How much did Rua remember?

She held tight to his hand as she guided them toward her bedchamber. Something had changed with her in those final moments before leaving the library, something that had shaken her to her core.

He didn’t know what was going to happen next; he only knew he couldn’t leave her. He felt like he’d been given a second chance at life but that it could be taken from him at any moment.

He shut Rua’s bedroom door, and she glanced up, her bright eyes hooded by her lashes. She studied him, her expression thoughtful.

“Do you remember loving me, Finn?”

Her question caught him by surprise. He ran a hand up and down the back of his neck as he considered his words.

The soft heart in him wanted to say Yes and I love you still , but the part of him that knew better said nothing. It was a question so profound it could only be a distraction. She had been so resistant to his inquiries up until now that this abrupt change could only mean Rua was trying to learn all she could before deciding her next move. A move typical of the Rua from his memories, confirming she remembered their past.

A reminder that she could not be trusted. Not yet, anyway. Maybe not ever.

“I’ll take that as a yes, then.” She smiled.

“Why?” he asked.

“I’m trying to decide if I can trust you.” Another smile.

“You and I both,” he said, and sat down on her little lilac settee. “And if I said that I remember?”

“Then I’ll know that I can’t trust you.”

His eyes narrowed. “So you were lying when you told me you didn’t remember anything.” Whether or not she would admit to it, she remembered enough to know they weren’t supposed to love each other. That when they did, it had cost him his life—C ú Chulainn’s life.

“I’ve seen little fragments of moments I don’t remember living.”

He nodded. “I’ve had as many dreams as I’ve had nightmares. I don’t understand any of it, only that I know this isn’t the first time we’ve met.”

Rua moved to sit beside him on the settee. There wasn’t much space, but he didn’t mind.

He knew she was still trying to decide where they stood. But he was tired of it. He hated waiting in the dark.

“Rua, tell me. Tell me everything. We’re connected, you and I, whether you want to admit you know it or not.”

Rua pursed her lips. She was so close to opening up; he could see it in the subtle crease between her brows. But Rua needed her secrets to survive. Perhaps if he could somehow show her that he was safe?

“I don’t remember all of my past,” he volunteered, “but I remember that I love you.”

He sat at the edge of the basin, watching her. She was both goddess and warrior, beholden to only her whims. Furiously free.

She slanted her head back, basking in the sun. In this light, she looked like an angel. And maybe she was. Maybe she wasn’t the devil who’d been foretold. There were three of them. Perhaps she was the exception.

“Do you think me so lovely that you can only stare, great warrior?” Rua called down to him, her voice like honey.

“Why don’t you come down here so that I might tell you?” he shouted.

In one breathtaking movement, she dove from the cliff, her body one with the cascading water.

Exception, the rule—it did not matter. He was already gone.

Lost in a memory, he hadn’t realized his mistake. Her hand covered her mouth, her eyes wide with shock.

“Loved you. I loved you once.” He looked away from her, mortified that he’d said it like that. Why couldn’t he just admit it? He should say it to her properly, but he wasn’t sure it would matter. They weren’t going to work, not in that century nor in this one.

When he looked back, she too was lost in another world, a distant gleam in her eyes.

“Rua?” he asked, watching a single tear roll down her face.

She looked at him, her expression tormented, heartbroken even. “Finn,” she whispered.

He reached for her hand, and she gave it. The worry he’d seen on her face in the library had returned. He wasn’t accustomed to seeing her discomfort.

She squeezed his hand and leaned into his chest.

“I’m only trying to put the pieces of my life back together—pieces that I hadn’t even known were missing until recently—and coincidentally, it involves you.” He sighed. “So much of it involves you, and if this is news to you, then I’m happy to be the one to share what I know.”

He was going out on a limb here, but perhaps her memories hadn’t all come back. His certainly hadn’t. He hadn’t even realized he’d lost any memories until they’d entered his dreams, revealing little details with explosive consequences.

He’d thought he was living the life he was always meant to until he ran into Rua that fateful day. From that moment onward, nothing had been the same. Not the way he felt nor the way the world seemed to work.

“I remember you,” she said finally. “Well, I wasn’t entirely sure it was you until now. It’s all very vague, but usually we’re in a meadow, nearby water, smiling and laughing. But there’s always this sense of urgency, like we’re on borrowed time.”

So she hadn’t remembered as much as he’d thought or hoped, but it was something. Unless, of course, she was lying.

“I’ve had similar dreams,” he said.

“Are we together in them?”

He thought about his answer, not knowing if she’d accepted what he’d told her: that she was a Morr í gan. If she did accept his truth, he didn’t know what version of Rua he was going to get. The one that loved him, or the one that had teamed up with her sisters and killed him.

He knew the stories of C ú Chulainn well. And to think that he, Finn, was the renowned warrior and demigod, born of the god Lugh and mortal Deichtine. How did he end up here?

“Are we together in the memories I have?” he asked, trying to understand her question.

“Yes,” she said.

“Many of them.” He didn’t understand what she was trying to learn from this information.

“And are we happy?” she asked.

Rua was pulling details out of him, disguising her interrogation in obscure questions. His answers would tell her everything she wanted to know. But they also told him that she knew about the Morr í gan, and probably C ú Chulainn.

“In some of them, we are,” he answered.

“You’re being coy. Is it on purpose, or is being thickheaded a part of your charm?” she asked.

He laughed. They were dancing around the truth, neither willing to give in and accept defeat.

“I’m leaving tomorrow. Will you come with me?” she asked.

“To where?” he asked, surprised.

“I don’t know, but I’m not going to pretend any longer that I am who they say.” Rua looked at him, head held high. She’d lifted the veil.

“So you’re not Emma Harrington?” He wasn’t sure how this worked. He was Finn, but he was also C ú Chulainn. They were not two people; they were one.

“I’m not,” she confirmed with a smile, “but you already knew that.”

“I did,” he agreed, a sense of unease overcoming him. A worry that the rumors might have been true about one thing. “Where is Emma Harrington?”

“I haven’t a clue, but it’s not my problem. I remember who I am, to an extent, and I will not let that nitwit mother of hers put me into an asylum.”

“And what about your maid?” he asked.

“What about her?” Rua’s brows furrowed.

“Well, I helped you steal her diary, and now I want to know why.”

“She had information about the Morr í gan. I thought she might know how I got here.”

“Did you find anything?” He found it incredibly odd that an American maid would be so well versed in Irish mythology.

“Nothing of consequence. She’s mentioned the hellmouth in Conleth Falls, and there’s one in Central Park. I think that’s where I need to go.”

“A hellmouth? Like the one in Rathcroghan?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “I haven’t remembered that much yet.”

The mention of the hellmouth reminded him of their differences. Differences that were so frightfully exposed. They could pretend here in this room that they were on the same side, working together to unravel the mystery of their past, but outside, in the real world, they were enemies. She had killed him once, and he had somehow ended up here in this time period. Had she come at the behest of her sisters to finish the job?

He wondered if she remembered that part yet. But it was only a matter of time before she would make her choice. The same choice she’d made all those centuries ago. An oath made by one was an oath made by all. He doubted that her sister Badb would so easily let him roam free.

“Rua, I don’t think you should go anywhere.”

“I can’t stay here, Finn. Flossie’s one wrong look away from committing me; Annette’s party has tipped the scales. To them I am nothing more than a dispensable daughter and I am at their mercy.”

“I will delay my engagement to Annette, give her something to hang on to.”

“Delay your engagement?” She recoiled. “You can’t seriously still be thinking of going through with it?”

“Why wouldn’t I be? I gave my word.” And Richard had him backed against a wall. Whatever had happened in the past, it was in the past. They could not go back and undo it. They had to play by the rules of the life they were living now.

“To hell with your word. My secrets don’t need protecting anymore. This isn’t my life!”

“Rua, I don’t think you’ve thought this through. You need a plan, somewhere to live, funds. All of that can’t be done in an evening’s time. I will help you, whatever you need. Just … don’t run.”

“I’ve already packed, Finn. I’m going.”

“A suitcase is not a plan.”

He thought of her attempt to leave last night after Annette’s birthday. Haphazard and impulsive. This was no better. “Why not wait until you’ve gathered all the information?”

“Why are you still going to marry her? After everything we’ve just learned. After all that we …” She trailed off, but he knew what she meant.

“Because whatever that life was, it ended. It’s over.” You killed me , he wanted to say. “This is my world now.”

He could spend the rest of his life chasing the pleasure of their moments in the library and never come close. But he might also do the same if he chose Rua. For the moment, their interests aligned. What about when they didn’t? There was no guarantee that she would ever stay. He had to protect himself.

Weary, he looked at the woman who’d handed him the last piece of meat. As his body drained of power, he couldn’t help but notice the tear sliding down the old woman’s face. It was then that he looked in her eyes and knew who it was.

A mighty gasp escaped him as he lost the power in his left leg. More than the loss of his limbs was the sorrow in his heart. He wanted to ask her how she could do this to him, but he could not speak. Weakened and betrayed, he limped to the battlefield, knowing that nothing that waited for him out there could be worse than what he’d just endured.

“You should go,” she said, her tone chilling.

He stared at her gilded eyes and found that he recognized her. In the glow of the lamplight, she was the dark shadow, the monster, come to devour him.

Without another word, he left, wondering if he’d ever see Rua again.