a Touch of Revenge (Romantic Mystery - book 6): The Everly Gray Adventures (27 page)

I hugged her. Hard. “Thanks. It means a lot to me that you believe we’re good together. And you’re right that I’m too close to it, too wrapped up in my own emotional turmoil to see beyond his strength.” I tried not to ask, but the words came pouring out. “You don’t think he’s ever loved anyone before? There have been women…”

Annie shook her head. “Pierce has been my friend, as much my brother as Adam is, really, for a lot of years, and I’m absolutely positive he’s never been in love. He loves me, Adam, and Maddie of course, but there’s never been a woman.”

My heart jackhammered with a mix of complete joy and raging fear. “I have no clue about the care and feeding of an emotional virgin.”

“I think you’ve got this one, El. Don’t over-think it, hmmm?” She patted my shoulder, then sauntered back to the kitchen.

I made my way to the guest bedroom, and came to a dead stop at the foot of the bed. What was it about frying pans and fires? I shoved my conversation with Annie to the back of my mind. Healing first. Virgins later.

The heat of fever and something unnamed burned behind Pierce’s eyes. “Anything I have to do in this process, Belisama?”

“Uh, no. Nothing at all. It’s just that…” I had to tell him. It would be a horrible invasion of privacy if I didn’t prepare him for the invasion of my energy, especially since I was approaching this healing from a place of love, not necessity. “During the process I’ll need to unwrap layers of your aura.”

The fever cleared from his eyes. “And you’ll be equally vulnerable. Got that. I’m good with it. You?”

The need to touch him seared hot in my chest. I rubbed at the unfamiliar discomfort. With Mitch there’d been pain, of course, and joy, comfort and anger, but nothing that threatened my existence. I could dissolve into Tynan Pierce’s energy, and—holy flippydoodles—be damn happy about it.

“I’m good with it, too.” It was the most honest thing I’d ever said in my life.

TWENTY-NINE

PIERCE FLUNG THE COVERS OFF.
If the sheen of sweat beading on his face was any indication, he’d been caught in a fresh spike of fever. Still, the sudden rush of cool air couldn’t be good for him. I moved to the side of the bed and tucked the covers back into place. Had he heard me agree to the intimacy we were about to share? No matter.
His
agreement had been clear in his moment of lucidity, and that was tacit permission for me to step into my healing persona.

I moved a chair from the corner of the room to the foot of the bed, un-tucked the covers so I could touch his bare skin, and then sat back in the chair to clear my energy field. Attempting to heal from a dirty field would be gross malpractice, and, considering the events of the evening, I had considerable work to do.

Filling my lungs with the lavender-scented air, I silently thanked Siofra for scattering bundles of the dried herb in every room of her house. It helped to clear my mind. And oddly, it was Siofra’s smile, her belief in Tuatha Dé Danann and the teachings of the Goddess Dana, that brought me peace within myself. I closed my eyes and opened to the comfort of Mother Earth, and to the simple joy that Siofra and Lorcán shared. When my breathing flowed evenly, I rested my hands on Pierce’s ankles, gently circling them.

Images of the explosion chased across my internal screen, but I kept my distance while I watched, and allowed his emotions to sweep through me like the flutter of wings. When the rush of images tapered to a blur, I shifted my attention to the outer edges of my aura where the vibration was most intense, most etheric. It was the part of me that held shades of healer’s green with wisps of pink love energy, and purple seer energy. Yes, it was the right combination for the first sharing of the core, essential
me
with Tynan.

I slipped through the tendrils of my field until I found the swirling, uncontrolled edge of his aura. Because he was Siofra’s son, and because I’d used the familiarity of her energy to ground myself, it was comfortable and easy to slip into Tynan’s energy and gather the loose ends of his pattern.

Healing his fever went well. Our energies blended and flowed together in an intricate mating dance that left no room for
dis
-ease. A wash of cool air coated my skin when his fever faded into nothingness, and I began to breathe more slowly, more gently, and carefully.

Shifting through the outer layers of our energies to reach a place where I could work on the injury to Tynan’s leg was more difficult. Etheric energy was pure and accepting, love without boundaries, but as I moved us closer to our physical bodies, our human-ness began to seep into the energy patterns. And with humanity came a vast array of emotions that didn’t flow or accept as easily. He was protective of me, and blocked all of my efforts to experience the explosion as a way to slip past his barriers.

I backed off and slipped in through the back door. It was easy to bring up an image of how his wound looked before Siofra wrapped it, and the memory slammed me into the core of the dis-ease pattern. Mending the broken strands of energy was time-consuming, but in the end I’d managed to close the wound, leaving only a pink scar. It would be sore, but Pierce should be able to function almost normally.

Pleased with the night’s work, I prepared to back away and separate our auras. But I slipped, skidded right into the darkness of the moment before the improvised explosive device had detonated, and it caught both Pierce and I in the dense, gray, chill that Connor had used to create the bomb.

It was ugly.

And Pierce had lived in this part of his psyche for long time.

The healer in me focused on how to breathe color into it, but it wouldn’t accept change. And I couldn’t back away to better assess the problem.

Panic flared, but only for a moment. Pierce was holding me here, consciously, deliberately, and with intent. He’d wanted me to see this, to feel it, to allow the desolation to drain peace from my mind so there would be no way I could forget it. I let it settle around me, not fighting, but accepting it exactly as it was. And then, ever so gently, and, if I were completely honest, damned sneakily, I began to tease the gray with slivers of pink, because nothing is as powerful as love.

Eventually, the gray seemed to sigh in relief, and I backed away, infusing the area with a delicate shower of pink energy.

I opened my eyes to find Tynan Pierce sitting up in bed, staring at me like I was a stranger. Had I erased his memory? No, that couldn’t possibly happen. I swallowed, wishing I had a bottle of water. So dumb, to have dived into healing energies without taking care of myself. “How are you?” My voice cracked.

He patted the bed next to him, an implicit dare sparkling in his eyes.

The healing work had left me wide awake, but exhausted, and a little wobbly, so it took me a minute to drag my gaze away from his. “Your fever’s gone.” It was part statement, part question, and total avoidance of his invitation.

Sliding his leg out from under the covers, Pierce tugged his pajama leg up until the wound was visible. “Sexy scar.”

The blanket slipped down to his waist. Bare. Chest. Heat pulsed through my insides, and crept up my neck. Damn, but I hated being a redhead. Every emotion showed up like a neon sign, and always at the worst possible time. Why was it his chest had such a profound effect on me?

Pierce’s grin was absolutely gorgeous, and full of mischief. Why the hell had Lorcán left the pajama top off?

I jerked my attention to his leg. “I did good.” Lame, but better than ogling his chest, the smattering of dark hair against bronze skin, and that delicious, sexy trail leading from his chest down… I wanted to touch him, but the work had been so intimate, and my emotions were raw…

He patted the bed again. “We need to talk about it.”

Talk. Right. “Of course we do. You must have questions.”
Get your mind on the work, Everly.
My hand curved around the back of the chair. “I’ll just move this over there so I don’t jiggle you.” Dear God, had those inane, ridiculous words actually come out of my mouth? The heat in my face intensified with a flaming rush of blood.

“We recently shared a bed, and just traveled the dark together. Come. Sit.” He grinned. “What’s a bit of jiggle between friends?”

Embarrassed, I circled the foot of the bed, and noticed a small heap of familiar fabric on the floor. Lorcán hadn’t neglected to finish dressing his son at all. Nope. Pierce had done it, pulled the pajama top off and dropped it on the floor, probably when the healing process had been so hot.
Bad word choice, Everly. Really bad.
I sat on the bed, gingerly, trying to keep enough space between us that I didn’t accidentally touch anything…personal.

The pajama top mesmerized me. It held images. My fingers itched. I reached down, lifted it with the tip of my index finger, and a dazzling video planted itself in my mind. It was a sneaky thing to do, but I wanted to save this memory of healing… No. I couldn’t be that dishonest with myself. Not knowing what the future held, I wasn’t about to give up this opportunity to save the silent movie of Pierce catching the bottom of the pajama top, lifting it, slowly exposing his abdomen, his chest, the muscles tightening, then relaxing as he dropped the fabric on the floor. Holy crap it was a beautiful sight.

“Everly?”

Damn it all. Caught. Red-faced. “Yes, I—um—”

He threw his head back and let out a belly laugh. “You’ve been watching me undress.”

Caught while being a peeping Tomasina. How mortifying. “I—”

He pulled the pajama top out of my hands, and wiggled his eyebrows. “I could do an instant replay.”

A soft rap sounded on the door. “Can I come in?” Annie asked.

I jumped off the bed like a firecracker had exploded under my butt. “Absolutely.” I hurried to the door, flinging it open. “Healing’s done.”

Her gaze bounced back and forth between us. “Doesn’t look to me like anything is done.”

“SITREP?” Pierce—all business.

Annie became super spy in an instant, and rattled off her report. “Grant has Grady secured for the night, relief arriving at eleven hundred. Cait is sleeping. Siofra believes the drugs have run their course. Fion Connor is on the sofa. Nothing changed there.”

He nodded, swung his legs out of bed. “Give us a minute.”

Annie backed out of the room, her smile annoyingly impish.

Pierce stood, took my hands. “Thank you.”

“It’s noth—”

“Yes, it was. We’ve built a layer of trust that wasn’t there before. I’d like to see what else we can build.”

My heart pounded. I swallowed. “Yeah. Me, too. But this…” I waved my hand toward the living room. “My revenge has to be finished first.”

“It was deliberate, you know.” He didn’t so much as blink.

And I didn’t shy away from his honesty. “I know. Thank you for showing me the darkness, how the actions involved in revenge would change me. I’ve thought about it. Decided it was worth it, but…all I can promise is that I’ll consider what you’ve shared. And I’ll treat it with the upmost respect. It was the most beautiful act of trust anyone has ever granted me.”

His thumb skimmed the back of my hand.

There was a tiny part of me that wanted to run, but my soul vetoed the panic building in my mind.

He was barely touching me, but every inch of my skin responded, burned with the need to touch him. His smile invited me to kiss him. For real. I’d never done that. Pierce had kissed me, way back when we first met, and I’d kissed him—as a respected and special friend—before Mitch, when I was still unsure about where my heart belonged. But this would be different. Tynan Pierce was waiting for me, giving me time to choose him.

I stretched onto tiptoes, and touched his smile with my lips, the smile that invited me to leave the cold behind and curl up in his warmth. I craved the heat, and savored the moment because it was so very special, a moment that could only happen once in a lifetime, the first time two souls touched. We’d kissed before, of course. But never with a foundation of trust…and it was different from anything I’d ever known.

We deepened the kiss, each of us offering, taking, giving, and receiving. It was a beautiful dance, butterfly soft and dragon strong. There would be no in between for us, the commitment was complete: mind and heart, body and soul.

He gathered me close, brushed his lips over my hair. “Ready to face the world?”

I nodded, my forehead bumping his chest. “No, but I…we have to finish this before—”

His fingers brushed my lips. “There is no beginning or end, just us in whatever we do.”

And for the first time in my life, I fit comfortably into my skin. No doubts. No questions.

We stepped apart, and holding hands, strolled into the living room, a united front, to face the scuffling, thudding sounds, and the confused irritated voices of Annie, Siofra, and Lorcán.

THIRTY

IT WAS CHAOS. FION CONNOR
was jerking around on the sofa, making garbled sounds and straining at the duct tape binding her. Three perfectly sane adults, one of them a well-trained sniper, were discussing how to handle the situation. Temperatures were rising.

I stepped up to the sofa. “Connor,” I yelled in her ear. “Do you need a bathroom break?”