Celtic Evil: A Fitzgerald Brother Novel: Roarke (6 page)

Wondering if he should knock, find the
doorbell or what the correct procedure was for this, the boy was
about to knock when it pulled open to reveal a stout looking older
woman with graying red hair.

“Um, hello, I’m…” he
greeted, seeing and feeling her startled emotions.

“Blessed Saints, laddie, I
know who you are,” she laughed, nearly in tears as she practically
pulled him into the foyer. “The picture of your Sainted Mother you
are, Ian Fitzgerald.”

Very unsure how to handle a
crying woman, Ian was thinking quickly when a hand finally freed
his from the woman’s grip.

“Don’t scare him away this
soon, luv,” Kerry urged, sensing his brother’s anxiety. “I figure
the first time Mac has to break up a fight Ryan picks, Ian will go
back to where it’s sane.”

Shifting to meet eyes that
were like his own, he swallowed his nerves. “I should have
called.”

“This is your home. You
need never call to come home, little brother,” Kerry assured him,
holding out a hand then waited to see what the younger man would
do.

Manners that Sybil drilled
into him caused him to take the offered hand politely, but
something in the older man’s eyes stopped him from letting
go.

Unsure of how the boy grew
up in Dublin, Kerry waited to see his eyes, and due to the
connection the five of them shared soon read his brother’s eyes
easily enough; it was easy to see what he was wondering.

“Welcome home, Ian,” Kerry
gave a slight pull to just ease one arm around his brother in a
casual welcome hug and didn’t let on when it was returned
fully.

Still sniffling, Deirdre
reached for the bag. “I’ll take this to your room, lad, while Kerry
offers you something to drink after that long and dusty drive
down.”

Ian blinked and started to say he’d take it
but the woman was already hustling away with a brisk efficiency
that made the servants he’d grown up with seem slow.

“You’ll never get a word in
with her,” Kerry smiled, leading the way into the living room. He
didn’t go for liquor, but reached under a bar for a bottle of water
which he tossed at Ian’s nod. “Deirdre’s never happy unless she’s
fussing.”

Nodding almost dumbly, he
took a couple sips of water as his brother took a sip of the Scotch
he’d had, then just had to blurt it out.

“I saw a talking crow in
Dublin that caught the stage on fire, burned up my classmates, and
talked about breaking circles and the five. I told it to go to hell
and threw my claddagh medal at it, then it burst into flame and
went away.”

Slowly lowering his glass,
Kerry eyes locked on his youngest brother’s and did a surface scan
to get a better gist of what had happened in Dublin.

“Well, I guess that takes
away any further doubt,” he murmured, walking to the window in
order to calm his nerves. “Sebastian’s back and he’s not wasting
any time...”

“This has something to do
with what happened fifteen years ago, doesn’t it?” Ian asked,
although he was sure it did.

Reminding himself, that
while it still seemed like yesterday to him, Ian had only been
three years old the day their parents died, and as such wouldn’t
know the exact details.

“I’d rather wait for the
others so this can be told once,” he rubbed the bridge of his nose
where a dull pain was building.

Distracted by some photos
on the mantle shelf, Ian looked over his shoulder. “You really
think they’ll come?”

“Until you came and told me
what you’d seen I had my doubts, but considering what I saw and
heard to what you saw, I’m ninety-five percent certain that he’d
also send these images or minions to visit the others as well,”
Kerry assured him, hearing the sounds of a car pulling to a stop.
“Guess we’ll find out.”

Before either had gotten
close to the foyer, they heard the front door open and slam, then a
voice that made the eldest brother feel odd.

“Kerry! Me, you, words now
about some bloody wizard paying me a visit at a real bad time!”
Mac’s voice echoed in the tone he used to use when breaking up
their bickering brothers.

“If Mac’s this mad I can’t
wait until Ryan shows up,” Kerry muttered, stepping out to meet his
brother, but was stopped by the fiery haired pixie like woman
following him outraged.

Maggie Cavanaugh had jumped
from the car and hurried after Mac, and couldn’t believe that he
was yelling in a house he hadn’t been in for such a long
time.

“Didn’t you have any
manners growing up?” she chastised in a hushed tone. “You can’t
just barge into your brother’s home and start yelling.”

Patrick ‘Mac’ Fitzgerald
had grown more on edge the closer he and the reporter had gotten to
his birthplace and upon stepping over the threshold of the massive
main door, a part of him was once again sixteen years
old.

“I was born in this house,
Miss Cavanaugh, so no matter what else it’s still part mine,” Mac
shot back at her, pulling up short when Kerry stepped from the
living room and his eyes narrowed. “Is he back?”

Knowing whom he meant,
Kerry just nodded but was more curious about the woman. “Your
shadow, I presume?”

Seeing that Mac was still too upset to
introduce her, Maggie stepped forward to easily offer her hand to
this tall handsome blond haired man but nearly gasped when she
actually felt the power as her hand was gently held.

“Don’t do the scanning
crap, Kerry,” Mac sighed, running a hand through his short hair
before blowing out a breath. “Mary Margaret Cavanaugh, my brother
Kerry and…” he stopped when he looked past his brother to catch
sight of Ian. “Bloody hell, he looks just like her.”

“To which Deirdre has
already pointed out,” Kerry’s eyes were still on the woman and
things that were popping out. “This is our youngest brother, Ian,”
he finished the introductions before shooting Mac a look. “She’s a
reporter?”

If Maggie was startled by
this guess, she didn’t let on but merely shrugged. “I was
interviewing your brother when a massive wolf seemed to attack one
of his horses and all hell broke after that.”

Ian let out a low whistle
as the manor phone began ringing. “This thing likes to use
animals?”

Not answering and leaving
Ian to distract the woman, Kerry motioned Mac aside. “She saw?”
this was a shock to him as very few people other than those closest
to them or those related by blood should have been able to see the
images Sebastian had sent.

Glancing over to see
Maggie’s ease in any situation had taken hold, and she was again
talking animatedly to Ian who seemed amused.

“Yeah but more to our
problem, aside from being a reporter, she’s also a hereditary witch
who owns her Grandmother’s Book of Shadow which has a section on
‘the Five.’” Mac was careful when he said this and didn’t miss the
flash in his brother’s eyes. “She’s also an overly hyper girl who
won’t stop talking if you let her.”

Kerry could certainly agree
with that but he was trying to decide how this wrinkle would affect
them when Deirdre hurried out of the kitchen area. “There’s
trouble.” He knew by the worry on the older woman’s
face.

“That was Cameron Young on the phone.” She
was speaking quickly, a sure sign to Mac that something was wrong
and he thought to place the name.

“The lad who worked for
Roarke’s little friend?” he eyed Kerry and caught the small grin,
translating that without asking.

Figuring that was the
easiest way to explain the leader of the Mavericks, Kerry focused
on his housekeeper. “What did Cameron say?” he asked curiously,
feeling the pain getting worse behind his eyes. “What’s
wrong?”

“He said they arrived at
Farranfore Airport but something happened and they’ve had to rush
your brother to the hospital in Killarney,” the concern was evident
in her voice as she rushed on. “The lad didn’t say much
but…”

Kerry didn’t need to hear
more and he silently kicked himself for not expecting this when
he’d been called earlier. “He’ll lash out at Roarke the hardest
since in many ways he’ll still be the weakest.”

“It’s been fifteen damn
years, Kerry,” Mac complained. “Surely he doesn’t still blame
himself for…” scowling at the silencing look his got as he followed
his brother back to Maggie to see Ian was rubbing his neck. “You
give my baby brother stress already?”

As the woman wound up for a
retort, Ian shook his head. “Nah, just a dull ache like someone
poking my brains in with a fireplace poker, and it’s like I hear
screaming and laughing all at the same time.”

Maggie caught the shared
look. “Something’s wrong?”

“Not sure yet, but our
brother’s in the hospital at Killarney and it could be a normal
reason or something else,” Kerry explained, sighing. “Roarke hasn’t
been back to Ireland since he was thirteen. Cam said he was
attacked in New Orleans so it could be stress or…”

“Or Sebastian’s making a
play early in the game,” Mac finished, pulling his keys out of his
pocket. “This sucks if he’s willing to be this bold.”

Kerry couldn’t have agreed
more and caught Ian before he could reach for the helmet. “Have
these headaches before?”

“Not often,” he admitted
but knew the reason for the question. If the pain got too severe,
he was more prone to crash the bike.

“We’ll ride together to the
hospital and Deirdre, if our lost sheep calls in, send him there,”
Kerry instructed, wanting to keep Ian with them since he figured
his powers along with Mac’s would buffer the boy.

Maggie didn’t understand
that but saw Mac start to snicker. “Knowing Ry’s temper the last
time I saw him we’ll be lucky if he shows at all or if he does,
it’ll just to be to tell you off.”

“Well at least we’ll be at
a hospital.” Kerry shot back, pulling a leather jacket from the
hook near the door before opening it for Maggie. “That way if I
have to put him in with Roarke the damn medics will already be
there.”

Ian blinked, Maggie stared,
and they both exchanged looks. “Your brothers get along at all,
luv?” she asked curiously then could have kicked herself but the
eighteen-year-old only shrugged.

“Got me, I only have
fleeting memories but…” he hesitated next to her on the steps. “The
biggest one is of feeling safe with them.”

Mac’s hearing had always
been better than most and that innocent phrase had made him pause.
“Can we do this and still protect them?” he asked Kerry
quietly.

“We don’t have a choice,
Mac,” his brother replied grimly, looking around at the house then
back to his brother. “I won’t let the bastard take anything else
from us.”

As Mac’s car sped off from
the house, they were unaware of the sad spirit peering from the
attic room.

CHAPTER THREE

The local hospital in
Killarney, Ireland, was the most sophisticated the Mavericks could
manage considering the distress their friend was in after arriving
in the country of his birth.

Cameron Young had been
content to allow his second in command and chief diplomat to handle
the head of the hospital and get them a whole floor isolated from
staff and other innocents, since he had a hunch this would get much
worse before it got better.

Scrubbing his face in a tired motion, he
recalled arriving at the local airport only hours beforehand:

Farranfore Airport, County
Kerry, Ireland, Four hours previously:

Having a private plane at
Hadley Industries’ disposal always came in handy when quick trips
across the ocean suddenly came up. This time was no different as
Michael White, the Mavericks second in command, brought the plane
in for a landing.

Of course, figuring out how
to get their equipment through customs was the least of Cam’s
problems right then. Dealing with a stubborn, hardheaded Irishman
was his focal point now.

“You, of all people, should
have figured out what the scene in the Big Easy meant,” Cam was
reminding himself to keep his temper since he knew why his friend
was upset.

Roarke Fitzgerald had woken
up fully while they’d been in the air traveling and hadn’t been in
a good mood then. His dark mood got worse when finally told where
they were going.

Standing in the open
doorway of the plane but not stepping on the now attached steps,
the black haired young man was scowling. “I know what it bloody
well meant but it didn’t mean coming back here!” he snapped at Cam,
eyes shifting uneasily as he tried to push down the
memories.

“You know that’s not true,”
Jessica Hadley spoke softly from behind him, lightly placing a hand
on his shoulder and felt it shaking. “You’re not alone and we won’t
leave you alone, but we do need to talk to Kerry.”

Knowing that meant going to the manor at
Fitzgaren, Roarke began shifting until he turned to look at
Jessica.

Ever since he’d woken up on
the plane, the girl had been close but he’d felt the distance.
Where he usually could feel her emotions and thoughts easily, there
was something she was keeping from him.