Page 34 of The Gods Time Forgot

Thirty-Four

Rua walked through the garden up to the Harringtons’ home. She had to make a decision. Temptation called to her with its rich offer of power and eternal life, free from the tribulations of man. If she walked away from the hellmouth now, she risked losing it all forever.

Risking it all on the hope that she could find her way back to Finn and save them both. But how? She looked at the sky, knowing she had little more than an hour. She would only be able to choose one.

She walked up the steps of the veranda with all its marble statues.

She’d sat out here with Flossie on her very first day as Emma. Had she only known then how difficult it would be, she would have cut her losses and run, but then she’d never have found Finn.

Rua walked inside, down the long corridor toward the grand staircase.

The idea that a home as grandiose as this could be left abandoned for several months of the year was truly outrageous. She wondered if the Harringtons would ever return, or if the proximity to the hellmouth was now enough of a deterrent.

Rua climbed the familiar stairs to Emma’s bedchamber. Guilt wrapped its hands around her throat as she opened the bedroom door. She looked around the pink room and could see nothing but Emma’s rotting corpse.

Swallowing back her despair, she moved to the armoire to see if there was anything left for her to change into.

Was there anything more depraved than rifling through your murder victim’s things? Rua didn’t think so.

She wanted so badly to hate Flossie. To believe that she and Emma were on the same side. But Flossie hadn’t killed Emma; Rua had.

Rua took out a black mourning dress. The only thing left. How appropriate.

She put the dress on and turned to the golden full-length mirror, finding she looked as miserable as she felt.

Rua focused on the gold of her eyes, remembering who she was supposed to be, but all she could see was the villain. She wanted the life she was owed, free of the decisions that had turned her into what she was now, a lovesick mortal who’d allowed guilt and shame to cloud her judgment.

A terrible scream escaped her, and she brought her fist to the glass, shattering it, sending shards of it to the floor. She didn’t feel any pain, nor did she notice the blood as it dribbled down her arm. She could only stare at the fractured reflection that mirrored her soul.

Rua took a deep breath and wiped the tears from her eyes, looking at the mess on the floor. No one was coming to clean it up for her.

Remorse was not becoming of an ancient war goddess. She did not need to feel guilt for taking Emma’s life. Emma had offered it; it was hers to take.

Resolved, she bid farewell to the pink room. The sun was beginning its descent, leaving way for Badb to come through the hellmouth. She needed to get to Finn.

As she walked into the hall, she heard the creak of a door that was meant to stay quiet. It came from the first floor.

Wondering if it was Mara, hoping by some miracle that it was Finn, Rua hurried down the brown marbled steps. She didn’t need to slink and hide. There was no more watching her behavior and keeping herself in check. If she wanted something, she was going to get it.

Rua heard the clink of fine china against a table.

She rushed into dining room, shocked at who she found.

Flossie Harrington was sitting at the table like the queen herself. She didn’t seem at all surprised to see Rua, her lip curling in disgust as she looked her up and down.

“I should have known you weren’t done tarnishing this family’s good name,” Flossie said.

Rua’s shock quickly wore off, melting into a razor-sharp hatred that was too excruciating to contain. There was no one she wanted to suffer more than Flossie. For months, this woman had tormented her with her criticisms and callous behavior.

“Look at you, in that hideous frock. Where is it that you were planning on going?” Flossie sneered. “You’re a fugitive and a murderer, it would seem.”

“Where I am going is no longer any of your concern,” Rua said, taking the murderer comment in stride. There were so many, she didn’t know which one she could be referring to.

“Soon enough, it won’t be.” Flossie shook her head, rising from her seat. “I mean, what did Mrs. Smith and the driver ever do to you?”

“That wasn’t me,” Rua said. “That was Mara.”

“And where is Mara?” Flossie asked, arms raised as though she were merely disappointed and not at all horrified. “I have to do everything for this family. I hand you the lord on a silver platter, and still you failed. All you had to do was be likable.” She shook her head. “We were so close. He was living under our roof, for Christ’s sake,” Flossie’s voice reached a new pitch. “Well, Annette can have him now. Free and clear. Thanks to you.” She grabbed hold of an empty vase, clutching it as she began muttering to herself.

“The gossip will be near impossible to avoid. Everyone will wonder what happened to the Harringtons’ daughter. They will whisper and wonder, but they’ll understand. They’ll agree that we had no choice but to send you away. They’ll probably even be relieved to learn of your death.”

“My death?” Rua laughed.

Flossie rose and moved around the table, still holding the vase.

“What are you doing?” Rua asked, amused.

Eight chairs were all that stood between her and the overwhelming urge to silence Flossie forever. They were more alike than either of them had realized.

But Rua was a goddess, and Flossie was no one.

“If you take one more step toward me, I swear it will be your last,” Rua said.

Flossie hesitated, eyebrow raised, and then she smashed the vase against the wall.

“Are you truly that demented that you would speak to me like that?” Flossie bent down and lifted a sharp piece of what was left of the glass vase. “I am your mother, and you will give me the respect I am owed.”

Flossie walked slowly at first, then picked up speed as she rounded the table, knocking down chairs as she went.

“Are you meaning to harm me with that?” Rua nodded toward Flossie’s hand while taking careful steps backward.

“What choice have you left me? You’ve made me a laughingstock.” Tears welled in Flossie’s eyes. She continued to encroach while Rua edged toward the servants’ door.

“You can never leave Conleth Falls. It’s Boa Island, or it’s this.” She looked at the makeshift weapon in her hand.

“I’m not going to Boa Island,” Rua said, throwing her body into the swing door reserved for staff, only to find it locked. She knocked her head as she bounced off the wooden door and stumbled forward, trying to get her bearings.

“Then it’s this.” Flossie grabbed her from behind, coiling her arm around Rua’s neck, pulling her to the ground. Rua couldn’t believe Flossie’s aspirations had driven her to this.

With wild force, Rua swung her elbow into the matriarch’s nose.

Flossie let out a howl, clutching her face as she fell backward.

Rua grabbed the glass off the floor and pinned Flossie to the carpet.

Flossie sobbed, staring up at Rua’s face. “You look like a monster.”

“That’s because I am a monster,” Rua said, raising her arm, ready to plunge the glass into Flossie’s neck.

“Rua, stop!”

Not believing her ears, she looked up to find Finn in the doorway. Her relief could not dampen the stunning rage that wanted to slice Flossie from ear to ear.

“Rua, let her go,” he cautioned, taking a step toward her.

Rua’s hand shook with temper. Her grip on the glass was so tight that it cut into her palm. How dare he ask this of her? How dare he try to take away her vengeance?

“Why should I?” she shouted, looking down at Flossie’s sniveling face. The blood from her nose had dripped into her mouth, outlining her teeth.

“Because you are more than this.”

“No!” She closed her eyes, head shaking. “This is who I am.” Rua pressed her forearm harder into Flossie’s throat.

“You can make a different choice now, Rua,” Finn said, his voice softening as he approached.

She looked at him, choking on a lifetime of regret, wishing she’d been strong enough to make a different choice then.

He nodded, encouraging her with kind eyes and a face full of forgiveness.

Could she trust it? Just like that, he would forgive her?

She’d spent so long doing the wrong thing, the selfish thing. Countless crimes had led her here. What was one more body? This was her way.

“Rua.” Her name a gentle plea, a promise of more.

Pained, she held his gaze, believing his silent promise. This was how she atoned.

Letting out a frustrated cry, Rua released the pressure on Flossie’s neck and climbed off of her. Finn ran toward her.

“You’re here,” she sobbed, running into his open arms.

“I’m here, a ghrá,” he whispered as he held her. Her heart lifted at the endearment. The acknowledgment of the love that existed between them.

She glanced up at him. “I love you, Finn.”

He smiled and kissed the tip of her nose. “I love you always.”

“Let’s go home,” she whispered.

“My lord, it would seem you are as demented as my daughter.” Rua had been so grateful to see Finn, she’d almost forgotten about Flossie.

Rua looked back, thinking of a dozen different ways to maim Flossie while Finn was busy being the bigger person. He wrapped Rua’s arm around his and guided her out of the room, away from any further trouble.

But that wasn’t good enough for the matriarch.

“How dare you walk away from me, daughter!” she screeched as she lunged for Rua, taking hold of her hair.

“Enough,” Rua yelled as her head was yanked backward. She spun around with a quickness that startled Flossie enough to release her hold. Flossie fell backward hard, her head landing among the shards of the vase she’d broken. Her eyes bulged with pain. Rua felt no pity. No pull to help. This was what Flossie deserved.

But as Flossie’s blood pooled on the carpet, she felt a change in the air. A severe gust of hostility and an immediate sense of danger.

And then something growled.

“Finn?”

She looked up from Flossie’s body.

“Finn?” she said again, turning to find him rising from the ground, slow and rigid like a bear waking from sleep. The muscles in his back twitched and contorted as the veins in his neck bulged. She could hear the rapid pace of his heart and the slow intake of breath.

A man she did not recognize turned around to face her.

His eyes were feverish, dark and soulless. Hate filled in all the parts of him that she used to know. Finn was no more. Standing in his place was the warrior C ú Chulainn, and this was his battle frenzy.

“Finn, can you hear me?” She approached him carefully. But he was more beast than man, and her words meant nothing. This was the famous r í astrad.

Somehow her crime against Flossie had triggered something within him, highlighting their inexorable differences. The defender of innocents versus the war monger.

His breathing grew frantic, like that of a wild bull set to charge. Up and down, his chest heaved as his body rattled with temper.

He looked at her, then, fighting to hang on to the last shred of his humanity, and growled, “Rua, run.”

Not needing to be told twice and with only a split-second head start, she tore through the house, trying to find a door to the garden. Sounds of pure chaos erupted behind her as he tossed furniture aside and barreled through walls to catch her. Shocked by her own speed propelling her forward, she flew through the back doors down to the veranda.

As she ran past the dried-up fountain, she heard a terrible shatter. She looked back to find that he’d run straight through the window. Glass sprayed everywhere as he flew down the limestone steps. He moved like an animal, switching between running on his two legs and galloping on all fours.

Rua pushed harder as she disappeared through the tree line. She was running back toward the hellmouth, the only place he might not go. She could hear him behind her, his ragged breaths and monstrous groans, tearing through tree trunks as though they were curtains. He was practically on top of her. She wasn’t going to make it. He was too fast, too deranged.

Thunder rolled above her, growing louder and more violent with every step until she realized it wasn’t thunder at all. The sky boomed with the sound of hundreds of thrashing bird wings.

A massive swarm of crows exploded over the treetops, blocking out what little daylight the clouds offered. They mushroomed in a wild heap hovering over the woods before nose-diving. She blocked her hands to shield herself, but they flew past her, aiming for Finn instead.

He roared as he tried to fight off the swarm of birds, to no avail.

It was enough of a hindrance to get her to the hellmouth. She had two seconds to decide before he was upon her, ripping her limb from limb.

Cave or water, both with enormous consequences.

If she went into the cave, he might not follow her, and when the r í astrad was over, he’d be left here alone, susceptible to Badb’s wrath. It would all have been for nothing.

If she chose the water, she didn’t know whether or not he could enter. He might dive right under and kill her there.

She could hear the steady pounding of his feet growing louder and louder.

The sun was setting. The time to decide was here.

One impossible choice for another, but only one offered them a chance.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, Rua ran into the water, him on her heels. Braced for a fight, she turned back to defend herself. But he’d stopped, hovering by the water’s edge, roaring like a beast. A beast that couldn’t touch the water.

Apprehensive, her eyes darted to the hellmouth, wondering which was worse—C ú Chulainn’s r í astrad or the inevitable arrival of Badb.

She had to admit, the timing of the r í astrad was fortuitous. Finn’s body preparing for what his mind could not. He would destroy Badb the moment she crossed the threshold, leaving them free and clear to return home.

Rua took a deep breath and dipped under the water. Soaking it all in, she couldn’t believe they were finally going back.

When she returned to the surface, C ú Chulainn was gone from the water’s edge. Horrified, she found him atop the hellmouth, jumping up and down with such force that the earth around it began to shake.

“Stop!” she screamed, but he couldn’t hear her. He scratched and he clawed at the hellmouth, shredding and tearing until there was nothing but dirt.

“Finn,” she cried. “Finn! Please stop. We can go home together!”

The water began to bubble as the cave below collapsed in on itself, their chance of returning dwindling with every violent blow.

“Finn, stop!”

Over and over, his fists struck the ground until there was no more.

His thumping and digging began to slow.

Wading out of the water, Rua ran to him.

“Finn, can you hear me?”

The hulking man turned to face her, and she was afraid of who she might find.

She breathed a sigh of relief. “Finn.”

Sickened, he looked around at the destruction he’d caused. “What have I done?” He reached for her. “Are you hurt?”

Rua offered a soft smile. “I told you before, you’re no match for me.” She nudged his shoulder. “Half a god, remember?”

A desperate laugh escaped him as his arms wrapped around her body. She melted into his embrace, feeling a familiar surge of energy coursing through her veins. Like warm honey, it soothed her, coaxing her stifled magic out of its long slumber.

“Is Mara still in there?” he asked, his voice strained.

Rua shook her head. “Maybe. I don’t know.” She stepped back, looking down at the obliterated hellmouth. If Mara had listened to Rua and stayed put, she was likely crushed. Or perhaps she’d made it to the other side.

“We have to help her,” Finn said, crouching down, digging through the rubble.

“Why? So she can help my sister find us?” Rua put her hand on his shoulder. “She’s gone, Finn.”

Rua was more concerned with what they were going to do next and how they were going to get back. An uneasy feeling settled in her stomach as she realized she didn’t know if Finn would be willing to leave New York with her.

“Do you think it’s really destroyed?” she asked, not ready to ask him what she really wanted to know.

“I can’t imagine it’s functional now,” he said. The entire mound of grass had caved in, laying waste to the cave below it. There were no visible openings. It would be impossible for Badb to come through at this point.

“What happened back there with Flossie?” Finn asked.

“She fell,” Rua said, not feeling an ounce of pity for her.

“Is she dead?” he asked.

“I assume so. Does it matter?” She stiffened, wondering if that was one too many crimes for Finn. He’d come to Conleth Falls to save her when there was still hope for her humanity, but the bodies had since piled up.

“Of course it matters.” He frowned. Rua held her breath, fearing the worst. This was his breaking point. A woman with murderous tendencies did not fit into nineteenth-century Finn’s future plans.

“Look at what I’ve done.” He pulled back to look at her. “I don’t ever want anything like this to happen again. I don’t know what I would do if I hurt you, Rua.” Relief washed over her. How quickly he’d forgotten that she’d once killed him. He hugged her tighter, pressing the side of his face against hers. “I cannot lose you again.” His lips left a kiss against her hair.

“You won’t,” she promised. “We have a second chance, Finn.” She tugged on his ruined shirt. “We can be together, free of my sister. But we’ll have to find another way back.”

“Do we have to?”

She looked up at him, worried that she’d misread things.

“Do we have to go back, I mean.”

“Finn, I can’t stay here.” She shook her head, though she didn’t know how they would return now that the hellmouth was destroyed. “I thought you understood?” Life in New York was over for her. She was done pretending; she knew who she was.

She was Macha, the Morr í gan goddess, affectionately called Rua by her lover, C ú Chulainn.

But if he wanted to stay, she would not take that from him. The choice was his.

“We could go anywhere else,” Finn said, his hands moving to the base of her neck, his thumbs stroking her jaw. “I don’t care about Manhattan. I don’t care about any of it. You are my home. I choose you.”

Rua’s heart soared as tears filled her eyes. She stood on her tiptoes, and he bent down to meet her. She breathed him in, intoxicated by his presence. His mouth was warm as it found hers, teasing her with playful pecks until finally he slipped his tongue past her lips.

His kiss was careful and hungry, but most of all, it was hers. Alive with the knowledge that they could start anew.

“I love you.” She smiled up at him. There were three months until Imbolg. “Where should we go?”

“Anywhere, a ghrá.”

Somewhere between the light and the dark, a woman was found, and as her hand held his, she wondered what she’d done to deserve it.