Celtic Evil: A Fitzgerald Brother Novel: Roarke (17 page)

Knowing it was just the
stress of reliving everything and using the energy that she didn’t
have yet that caused her to collapse, he knew how to help that; at
least he hoped he did.

Gently rubbing her cold
hands between his, Roarke waited a minute before pressing his lips
to her forehead and closing his eyes. “Rest,
muirnin
(sweetheart),” he murmured
softly, easing his friend into his arms fully and waiting again
until he could hear her soft heartbeat in his mind. “Take what you
need from me,” he whispered. “Take my strength, my
warmth.”

The horses in their stalls stirred to
Roarke’s gentle voice as he closed his eyes and sang softly the
songs his parents had taught him.

He was unaware of the soft
glowing light in the barn as he held his friend against him,
knowing that both Mac and Kerry would yell about this since he
wasn’t at full or even partial strength yet to do this.

A light touch on his face
caused him to look down into tired blue eyes as Jessica rubbed her
eyes before settling on him. “None of it was your fault,” she told
him, shivering suddenly.

“You can’t always be my
savior, Jess,” Roarke was careful when he said this so she wouldn’t
misunderstand. “There comes a time when I have to protect us
both.”

“I’ve always been there for
you, Roarke,” she argued, starting to draw tighter to herself. “I
haven’t been too good at protecting you this time but I will from
now on if…”

Frowning, it took a second
for him to realize what she was saying. “No,
a gra
. That’s not what I meant,” he
broke in, gently laying a finger on her lips.

“Jess, for as long as we’ve
known each other most of the time you’ve been the one riding to my
rescue,” Roarke tried to explain but knew he was messing up. “I
have to fight this battle alone but…” Gently lifting her face up to
him, he went on softly. “You will always be there with me and for
me as I will be for you.”

Pausing to take a shaky breath, he let his
fingers touch her face in the way he always had, feeling the
silkiness of that skin. “You’ve been more of a friend than I
deserved.”

“Best friends, luv,” she
replied softly, knowing he didn’t like to be touched or get too
close at times so she went to move and was surprised when his arms
tightened just slightly. “Roarke?”

“I swore a bloody long time
ago that I wouldn’t ever doom anyone else ‘cause of what happened
to me as a lad to everything else, I believed what they said,” his
voice was soft but he held her eyes and gently brought one hand up
to kiss it. “I was afraid to doom anyone by letting them love me or
loving anyone.”

Jessica’s eyes narrowed as
they did when he talked like that, still mad about his childhood,
but this time she tried to stay calm. “Your brothers love you,
Roarke. Even Ryan, though he is a huge pain in the ass at times.
It’s safe for you to love them.”

“Yeah, gotta agree about Ry
though we won’t tell him,” Roarke chuckled, and then his eyes
turned serious. “I do love my brothers, Jessica but there’s
something else,” he said a quick Irish prayer to him self then went
on. “I love you, Jess.”

The girl stared at him for
a long time, not sure if she had heard that right. “Roarke, you
don’t have to say anything you don’t mean or…”

The words that she was
fighting to get out past a hammering heart were cut off with a
gentle kiss.

This wasn’t the first time
he’d kissed her, as they’d been friends for years, but this kiss he
felt the change in it, the deepness, and the desire that flamed as
he deepened it only when he felt her not resist as he feared she
might.

“Ta me chomh mor sin I
ngra leat
(I love you so much),” he
whispered against her lips upon breaking the kiss. “Been in love
since we were probably sixteen, luv, but I was scared if I told you
then something bad would happen,” he coughed in the silence. “You
could say something, Jess.”

“I’ve loved you since you
were eight, you dumb bloody moron,” Jessica finally replied,
meeting his eyes with a shy smile. “Why do you think Ryan enjoys
flirting with me? Because he knows it would annoy you to no
end.”

He stared at her then let
his fingers touch her face. “I’m scared, luv. If I lose you or
them…”

“You aren’t alone this
time, Roarke,” Jessica replied softly, easing closer as the fall
chill closed in. “Open up to your brothers and it’ll be
alright.”

Knowing what she meant by
this, he sighed. “I’ll try.” Seeing her shiver again, he reached
for his jacket to wrap around her. “Let me take you back to the
house, luv. You’re too cold.”

Jessica didn’t want to go
in yet as she knew her friend still had issues to resolve, but was
still too tired to fight so she nodded, unaware when he lifted her
in his arms to carry her back.

“Can I say I love you?” she asked sleepily,
resting her head on his shoulder.

Feeling some of the tension
in his chest leave him, Roarke lightly kissed her on the forehead.
“Yes, Jess. You can say that you love me and I do love you,” he
murmured, stepping onto the path that would go back to the house,
and was talking softly so his friend would fall to sleep fully when
the he caught the first sense of evil nearby.

Slowing his steps, he
looked around slowly, but knowing this land had always been safe
from evil began to think he was just imagining things until he
heard the first growl.

“Roarke? Something’s
wrong,” Jessica yawned, blinking as something buzzed in her
head.

Easing her to the ground
but behind him, Roarke gently nudged the British girl. “Go to the
house,” he ordered quietly, looking with his powers even as the
massive black coated thing stepped onto the path between them and
the house.

It looked like a huge dog but its body was
three times the size with black matted hair, glowing red eyes and
snarling teeth that was growling dangerously.

“No,” Roarke breathed, eyes
narrowing as he saw the creature and feeling his heart nearly stop
as he recalled the last time he had seen something like
this.

He had been eleven years
old on Skelling Michael Island after spending a near perfect day
with his parents, they had been waiting on Kerry to come with the
boat when the creature attacked.

One of the few things he
could remember about that event was his father telling his mother
and him to run and though he knew it tore at her to do so, Brenna
Fitzgerald had run with her son but only so far as to get him to
the steps leading to the beach.

“Run to the beach and stay
safe, my little boy,” she told him urgently, lightly ruffling his
hair. “Your Da and I love you, Roarke, but this is what must
happen. Tell Kerry to protect you and your brothers and never doubt
that you will always be safe.”

With that, she had gone
back to help his father and though he had followed, to this day
Roarke still blocked what he had seen.

Seeing this beast today was bringing it back
but feeling Jessica’s fingers on his arm snapped him back to the
present.

“Run,” he told her, knowing
she could go through the stable and take the long way to the house.
“Go find my brothers or the Mavericks.”

“I can’t leave you to fight
this thing alone,” Jessica argued, feeling his fear but also
feeling his determination. “Roarke, no. I can’t…”

Seeing the beast hunch its
back, Roarke grabbed Jessica’s arm and pushed her back toward the
stable. “Go, Jessica!” he snapped, his fear making his voice
hard.

Hesitating a second, she finally nodded and
began backing away when another growl had her whirling just in time
to scream.

Spinning at his friend’s voice, Roarke saw
the second beast jump from the shadows at the girl and it was his
panic and fear for her safety that had him doing something he
hadn’t done in more years than he wanted to remember.

Lashing out with a wave of
wind to deflect the beast jumping for Jessica, he diverted a
portion of his power to search for his brothers and hoped after
years apart, one of them picked his call for help up even as the
first demon was jumping on his back.

The Fitzgerald Family
cemetery was set away from the main house and fields, but was
connected with an ancient cobblestone path and lined with
rosebushes.

The black gate had an oval trellis that,
depending on the season, always had some type of climbing flower
growing on it.

Passing the gate there was
another feel that you encountered as you stepped on ground that had
been a family burial ground since the first Fitzgerald were laid to
rest.

There had always seemed to
be a strange peace to this part of the manor grounds, and as the
four brothers went down a path maintained by the manor gardeners,
there was silence until they got to a large double highly polished
black marble stone.

Surrounded by the prize
winning white roses, the stone read in engraved letters ‘Beloved
Husband, Adored Wife and Loving Parents; Toryn Fitzgerald and
Brenna Kerrigan Fitzgerald.’

Kerry stared at the stone
of his parents and felt the wind blow warm over him as he picked a
single white rose to lie in front of his mother’s name.

This would be the first
time, he knew, that any of the others had been back to this site in
fifteen years, so he remained silent.

It was Ian who spoke first,
in a low hushed tone. “I can’t remember them that much.”

“You were three when they
died, lad,” Mac replied, letting a hand rest on the youngest boy’s
shoulder when he both heard and felt the pain in his voice. “That’s
to be expected.”

Bending down to pick a rose
and then toy with it absently, Ryan tried to keep his untouched
attitude but it was hard.

“Mum was beautiful and
looked like you,” he finally spoke, looking over his shoulder. “She
could sing like an angel or yell like the devil if her temper was
up. You have her face and hands and you, Mac and Kerry, all got
your blond hair from her.”

“They loved each other very
much but they weren’t perfect,” Kerry placed a hand on the stone
and was surprised to feel the vibration. “No couple ever is. They
had fights, and raising five sons who were in the spotlight like we
were wasn’t easy, but they made it seem like it and never
complained.”

Mac looked up as something
pulled him but he brought his attention back to Kerry. “The fights
got worse toward the end though.”

“Mum knew how she was
looked at from our grandmother and Kathleen and Da was fighting a
lot in those months,” Kerry agreed, wishing he had seen it more
then. “I think that Mum knew the threat Da’s Mum was to her
children, which was why they were discussing her taking Roarke and
Ian up to Clare that summer to see her folk.”

“But it never happened,”
Ryan frowned, wincing as pain shot through his head for no reason.
“They died two weeks later.”

Ian looked between them as
he felt his claddagh medal getting warmer under his shirt. “What
did happen to them, Kerry?” he asked.

Knowing this was the heart
of it, Kerry accepted his brothers needed to know the truth of that
time. “We’ll go back to the house and discuss…” he drew off as
something from the corner of his eye made him look toward the small
gazebo he’d had built in honor of his mother.

Staring hard as he thought he heard the
swing in the gazebo squeak as it blew, he blinked at the form he
saw.

Always a petite,
frail-looking woman with slender hands and arms, Brenna Fitzgerald
had a sweet side. However, she could handle her unruly sons easily
as well, and had been perfect in Kerry’s eyes.

Now he watched as his
mother sat on the swing, dressed in a soft lilac dress that she had
adored with her long blond hair hanging loose down her back, she
smiled at her eldest son.

“You did your best to
protect them, my darling boy,” her words were in his head, as he
looked deep to be sure if this was real or another trick. “Don’t
doubt that your father and I know how you tried but now is the time
to bring back what she helped to tear apart.”

Brenna lifted a hand as he
had seen her do so often to brush a cheek or stroke a flower but
now it was like a stirring of the air. “Kerry, you were always the
strong one. The one Toryn and I never worried about, and I know you
will carry on and defeat this evil when it’s your time.

“Mac, you were always my
little mediator who tried to help maintain the peace as much as you
caused your own fights,” her eyes shifted to her second born with a
smile. “Your place has never been questioned but you must learn to
accept help and know that others will help carry this burden if
only you let her.

“Ryan, now you my lad were
a mother’s stroke waiting to happen,” her soft laugh was musical
but it was only now that her sons were starting to focus on what
their brother was seeing. “You have your Da’s temper as well as his
looks, but both of our stubborn streaks. Your temper will serve you
well with the dangers ahead, but you need to let go of your pain
and start to forgive. Forgive yourself and your brother.