Courting Darkness (34 page)

Taking one last deep breath, he let out a steadying exhale and focused solely on the task at hand. Pulling back the blanket to expose Olivia’s leg, Liam braced his fingers on each side of the puncture wound in her thigh. Retracting the skin to avoid hitting the thorn-blackened center, he pressed the tip of the blade into her flesh. The knife was sharp, easily cutting through her skin.

A soft moan escaped her parted lips, her leg twitched, but she was too weak to give much of a fight. He easily held her still by trapping her knee between his arm and his ribs. With the cut elongated, he turned his wrist, using the tip of the knife to dig the thorn free.

With one down and four to go, he moved to the thorn in her bicep. He’d dress the wounds with the poultice wrap after they were all removed. Working with swift efficiency, Liam freed the second from her arm, and then the third from her side, and the fourth from her flank, then the fifth from the delicate arch at the top of her bottom.

Fifteen minutes later, he was knotting the final strip of cloth over the calendula and lavender poultice wrap, when a soft knock sounded at the door. Checking to make sure the blanket was in place, he willed the lock to unlatch rather than answer and risk waking Olivia. When the lock clicked free, the door slowly opened.

“I’m just checking to make sure you didn’t need any help.”

“I’m just finishing,” he replied solemnly.

“Has she been out the entire time?” Rebecca whispered.

“Thankfully, yes. A couple of times, I thought she was going to come to, but no, she hasn’t regained consciousness yet.”

The floorboards squeaked under Rebecca’s careful steps. He spared her a quick glance before settling his gaze back on Olivia. Her ashen pallor had not improved, but the tick of her pulse at the base of her throat seemed to have eased into a slower, steadier rhythm—her breaths more regular, as if she’d only fallen into a deep sleep.

He took her limp hand in his and placed two fingers at the pulse in her wrist, needing to feel for himself that she still lived. God, how many times had he almost lost her? How many times had he barely pulled her from death’s clutches? Would this one finally prove to be the time he failed her? Folding his hand over hers, he sat there silently, praying for a healing he could no longer give her.

Rebecca didn’t speak for the longest time as she stood there watching him with far too much knowledge in those assessing bright blue eyes. “I’m sorry this happened. I’m afraid it’s my fault.”

His head tipped to look at his old friend. “Why would you think that? The brier isn’t supposed to be here.”

“Olivia and I exchanged words earlier, and well, she seemed rather upset with me when she left this morning.”

Making a concerted effort to keep his voice soft, he asked, “What did you say to her?”

Rebecca released a breath she’d been holding. Could an exhale possibly sound more remorseful? “I told her she should love you enough to let you go—”

Muttering an oath under his breath, he gently placed Olivia’s hand on the flat of her stomach and dropped his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. He literally had to bite his lip to keep from saying something he’d most certainly regret.

“It needed to be said, Liam. I don’t want to see you fall.”

Shaking his head sadly, he replied, “She has, Rebecca.
I
was the one that wouldn’t let
her
go.”

Approaching the edge of the bed, Rebecca sat beside him and took one of his hands in both of hers, imploring, “What are you doing, Liam? Is she really worth risking your immortal life?”

“I could ask Niall the same thing,” he shot back.

Her cheeks flushed, guilty gaze dropping to the floor.

“Not so black and white now, is it?”

“I wasn’t aware you knew,” she whispered.

He shrugged. “It wasn’t my place to say anything. And I want you to be happy, Rebecca. You’ve lost so much. You deserve a little happiness, and so does Niall. He needs a female to soften him. Otherwise, I fear the darkness he lives in will eventually consume him. You may just be his lifeline. I wouldn’t take that from either one of you.”

A tear slipped down her cheek, and she let go of his hand to reach up and swipe it away.

“I’m in love with her, Rebecca—utterly and completely. There isn’t anything anyone can say or do to change that. Believe me, the High Court has tried.”

“They know?”

“Of course they know. I would not lie to them, even if I could.”

“And what of your God?” she challenged.

“My Creator is with me always. His love is unconditional. It is He who has made me with this capacity to love, so how can I be expected to deny it.”

“But you have unconsecrated yourself. Surely there will be repercussions.” Rebecca paused a moment—thoughtful. “It’s already happening, isn’t it?” The alarm in her voice mirrored the fright in her eyes. “That’s why you couldn’t heal her.”

“Nothing worth having is ever obtained without sacrifice.”

“But at what cost? Is that why the brier has broken through the perimeter? Have you thought about what will happen if you lose your anointing, Liam? If the walls of
Landaketa
come down…”

“
Landaketa
will not fall. As to why the brier has broken through, perhaps I will know more once I’ve seen the area for myself. As soon as I know Olivia will recover, Niall and I will go to the southern perimeter.”

His assuredness seemed to allay Rebecca’s fears. Not that he blamed her for her concern. The shield surrounding this plantation was the only thing standing between her and certain death. If the walls came down, over a century of time would come rushing in, instantly aging and effectively killing her and Henry. Not to mention it would leave Niall and his legion of
Hititsu
warriors without an asylum to rest or recuperate.

Rebecca silently watched Olivia, her concern genuinely heartfelt. “I’m sorry, Liam,” she whispered again.

“Don’t be. You did not do this to her. Do not blame yourself. And any words exchanged between you two were said out of concern for me. You are a good friend, Rebecca. Niall is lucky to have you.”

The hitching sob that escaped her throat seemed born of relief more than sadness. Her hand covered her mouth as she fought back tears. “Olivia is lucky to have you, Liam. Anyone can see how in love and wholly devoted you are to her. If there is anything you need, anything I can get for her, please let me know. I’ll check back in a little while. Henry will bring up supper for you when it’s ready.”

“Thank you.”

Collecting the knife, the unused strips of cloth, and the basin full of blood-stained water containing five serrated thorns, Rebecca turned and left the room as silently as she came.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Her body was on fire, each beat of her heart hammering into her skull. Every muscle in her body ached, exhaustion making each breath an effort. She forced her lids to raise, her vision slowly coming into focus, only to quickly blur again—with tears.

Kneeling at the side of her bed, elbows propped on the mattress, was Liam. His hands were folded in prayer, his forehead resting on his knuckles. The waves of his dark overgrown hair hung in his face, obscuring it from view. Words left his lips in a parted whisper, hushed and foreign. She listened for a moment, trying to understand what he was saying, but he spoke in his own tongue. The words were a beautiful melody that brought back another flood of memories. Content to lie there and just listen to his soft, soothing voice, Olivia closed her eyes again and willed her body to relax.

The next time she woke, the room was fully dark, except for the small flickering light of a bedside candle. She wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but thankfully, her body didn’t feel like an inferno anymore, and the throbbing in her temples lightened to a dull thud. She still felt like death warmed over, but at least she could move her arms and legs again. Tipping her head to the side, she was surprised to see Liam in the same position she’d last found him—except, he was silent now.

Lifting her arm, she reached over and brushed her fingers through the silky tips of his hair. His head instantly snapped up, and she was met with the most heart-rending amber eyes. “Hey,” she rasped with a throat dry as ash.

“Hi, sweetheart...” Rising up, he sat at the edge of her bed and reached for the glass of water on the nightstand. Sliding a hand behind her back, he helped her sit up. “Try to drink something. It will help your throat.”

With a shaky hand, she accepted the glass that felt like it weighed a hundred pounds. After a few sips, she handed it back to him and tried to force a smile. “Thank you.” As he eased her back onto the pillow, a shiver racked her body.

“Are you cold?” A concerned frown etched his handsome face and his palm pressed against her forehead. Before she could answer, his gaze shot to the French doors and she heard them softly latch, shutting out the night’s serenade. “Your fever’s breaking.” The relief in his voice was comforting. “It’ll probably be a few more days before you’re well again.”

When he stood, she had a moment of alarm, afraid now that he would leave her. But instead, he pulled off his shirt and tossed it at the foot of the bed.

“Would you like me to warm you?”

She nodded, her throat too sore to speak. When his hand dropped to unfasten his jeans, a new heat slowly spread through her veins that had nothing to do with the fever. Even near dead, it shocked her to realize how much just the sight of him affected her. If he noticed her staring, he gave no indication, seeming completely at ease in his skin, and why wouldn’t he be?—even without being in a state of arousal, his body was a stunning sight to behold.

Silently, he stepped from his jeans and slid in beside her. He moved with care, a gentle, fluid glide that pressed his hot, hard-muscled body beside hers. Carefully, he slid his arm behind her neck and reached across her chest to gather her close. His arm stretched across her breasts, his hand tucked beneath her hip. Skin on skin, his flesh was a comforting heat that chased away the chill, seeping all the way to her weary bones. Warming her from the inside out, she was enveloped in a blanket of warm, muted spices.

Lulled by his slow, steady heartbeat, his exhaled breaths teased the hair at her temple. Her body melted into an overall sense of well-being. A blissful sigh escaped her lips as she closed her eyes and savored the feeling of being in his arms. “I love you,” she whispered before succumbing to the lure of slumber once again.

This time when Olivia woke, it wasn’t nearly as pleasant. Liam was gone. She knew it even before she stretched her hand behind her, feeling the cool sheet against her fingertips.

“He’s gone,” said the airy, feminine voice across the room.

Olivia bolted upright.
Oh, dear God, not again!

Rebecca’s startled gasp had her grabbing for the covers pooled on her lap, when a sudden rush of dizziness hit her hard, forcing her back against the pillow as she uttered a miserable moan. Hurried footstep verified the woman was coming over. Olivia wished she wouldn’t. When the mattress dipped ever-so-slightly and a warm hand pressed to her forehead, she opened her eyes and met Rebecca’s worried stare.

“I can’t believe he left me again,” Olivia murmured to no one, the words just tumbling out. “I swore the last time if he ever did this to me again… Oh Lord, I’m going to be sick.” Now that was meant for Rebecca. Olivia’s stomach gave her little warning it intended to rebel. The woman had great reflexes. She grabbed the basin off the nightstand and shoved it into Olivia’s hands before helping her to sit up.

To Rebecca’s credit, she wasn’t squeamish. Grabbing Olivia’s hair, she held it back as her stomach heaved. There just wasn’t any graceful way to puke. At least her stomach was empty, so after a few painful retches, it gave up and settled into an overall state of this-totally-sucks.

On the plus side, now Rebecca wouldn’t see her crying. Hopefully, she’d attribute the tears streaming down her cheeks to the violent upheaval her stomach had just been through, not from the news that Liam had abandoned her—again.