Healing His Soul's Mate (7 page)

“You’ll figure it out, my friend.” Cemil patted him on the shoulder and walked off, leaving Shade to eat the rest of his meal in silence. The others at his table had left to follow their own pursuits.

He scanned the room for no other reason than to get his mind off Ashlynn Stone. In the dark-green section of the dining hall, a few paras still dined, including one with shifting issues—never an easy thing for a shifter to admit—and two witches healing from spells gone wrong. In the light-green section, he observed a young couple with infertility issues and an older couple dealing with Parkinson’s, and, in the back, between the two sides, a mermaid in love.

The Siren caught him off guard. Mermaids showed little emotions, and this one radiated both kindness and love. Well, miracles never ceased. So what did one do when he was supposed to act human normal?

A question he had no answer for.

It didn’t matter if he was crazy. She wanted him with a desire she had never experienced in her life. This pull to him unbearable, tied her stomach in knots. Sleep, when it graced her, came in broken naps and fretful bouts. Her traitorous body and erotic dreams kept luring her back to images of his green eyes set against his tanned skin. She needed to focus on healing, on finding a cure for her headaches, and coming to terms with her scars. Scars she discovered cut as deep inside as they did out.

A headache had hit her so hard during her relaxation class she’d curled into a fetal ball. She had no recollection of how she came to be back in her room with an eye mask over her face, lavender filling her senses, and Sage’s soothing voice whispering orders to those around her.

A single candle gave the room what little light she needed as Sage chanted something in a language Ashlynn didn’t recognize. The sounds and cadence soothed. Twice she awakened to find Sage sitting in the chair beside her, a kind smile always gracing her soft face.

“How did I get back here?” she remembered asking at some point.

“My brother Cyrus brought you here.”

“You don’t have to stay.”

“Of course I do. You need me.”

Her own mother couldn’t be bothered to sit more than half an hour and this virtual stranger whom her sister called family sat all night in case the headache returned. No wonder Dana never came home. Not with people this welcoming and warm to stay for. Even the imposing Rekkus showed moments of softness her mother could not summon.

“Why are you crying?” Sage asked, concern marring her perfect brow. “Is the pain back?”

Shaking her head, she buried her face in the pillow. How could she overcome such sadness and the realization she had never been given motherly love?

Sage climbed into the bed and embraced Ashlynn, holding her tight and secure as she wept. When the sun came up, she slept, dreaming of a tall, dark man with skin the color of melted caramel, eyes the color of shamrocks in the Irish countryside, and hair of silken black.

She awoke refreshed, filled with a new vigor as if the world might not be a painful thing.

“You’re awake.” A whisper washed over her and the voice soothed her mind. “Shall I call Sage?”

“No, not yet. Who are you?” The curtains were closed, leaving the room drenched in forgiving darkness. She sat up, hesitant at first, surprised to find the woman at her side to assist.

She passed Ashlynn a glass tumbler. “Sage said you must drink this before you start your day. I’m Serena. Is there anything I can do for you?”

“Are you another Rowan?”

“No, I am a staff member but at one time a guest, too.” Serena walked across the room, humming as she picked up a blanket which lay on the floor in a puddle of fabric.

“What’s the tune you are humming?”

“I didn’t mean to hum. I am so sorry.” Horror pinched the woman’s beautiful face.

“Please continue. It’s….” Searching for the right word, she bit her lip before deciding on, “Comforting.”

Serena smiled and hummed as she straightened the room. “Drink up and I’ll go draw you a bath.”

“What time is it?” The room had no clock. Considering the place ran on tight timetables for classes, Ashlynn had yet to see a clock.

Serena cocked her head to the side and stood stock-still. “Six, I would guess from the tides.”

Mid sip, Ashlynn stopped. The tides? Was everyone crazy here? Or perhaps the loony bin had been disguised as a resort. Focusing on her shake, she decided to roll with whatever came at her. After all, what did she have to lose? A slight knock on the door sounded, and Serena opened the door enough for the other woman to chat with whomever came to the door but not enough to allow the person to come in. Although she couldn’t tell whom she talked to, Serena apologized in hushed tones for something.

“Take a chill, girl.” Cyrus came into the room, removing his dark glasses and resting them on his head. She realized the last couple of times she had seen him he even had worn those glasses even at night. “I’m here at Sage’s bequest to check on her patient and see how your head is.”

“Much better this morning. I should thank you. Sage informed me you were the one who helped me back here last night.”

“It is the least I could do. Luckily, I happened to be close by when Shade rang the alarm.”

Crazy, sexy hunkman? “Shade?”

“Yes, he can sense when a soul’s in pain.”

“Soul?”

“Soul…person. It’s very much the same thing really.” Cyrus smiled, and she wondered why no modeling agency had ever picked this man up. Granted, all the men here were gorgeous, but something dark and mysterious made him a bit more dangerous. Even beautiful. “It occurred to Shade that part of your issue might be the lights.”

“But Trixie had no lights.”

“No, but she did say she had the class focus on the flames of a bonfire.” Oh, his smile would get anyone to agree. “We have created a special pair of glasses we think could help you.”

“Are they like yours?”

“No, why would you ask?”

“Well, you wear them all the time.”

Cyrus gave a sad smile. “It’s so my family doesn’t worry or see my suffering.”

Unsure what to say, she nodded. She eyed the gloved hands and wondered what kind of scars forced him to cover up at all times. Had he been burned, deformed, or was he hiding the ugly scars of an accident?

“Some of us wear our scars on the inside. Some lucky people have them on the outside.” He brushed over the scar on her face, lingering over the burn on her neck. She should have pulled away but found the soft touch of the glove soothing. His inner strength or power drew her. Not sexually like Shade, but mentally.

“Lucky? I can’t think anyone would call me lucky.”

He drew back. “Yes, lucky. You show the world your pain, your struggles. Every time you walk outside, you prove to those who hurt you that you survived. You have strength and they can’t defeat you.”

Grabbing his hand in hers, she asked, “What about the inside scars? What do you do for those?”

“Oh, dear lady, I had hoped you would be able to tell me.”

Butterflies much like those that formed when one was about to be kissed for the first time fluttered in the pit of her stomach. It connected them, their understanding of one another. “If I knew, I would tell you.”

“I promise the same.” He moved back to the front door where he had dropped a bag. Pulling out a hard case, he removed a pair of black-rimmed glasses “They aren’t the height of fashion but should do for this week to help you acclimate to the lenses. If they work, we can send the prescription to a special optometrist in New York to get them set into something more stylish.”

“At this point, haute couture is the last thing on my mind.” She rested the frames on the brim of her nose and, in the darkness of the room, could no longer even make out his silhouette.

“That’s the spirit. Ready to give them a try in the light?”

She nodded, closing her eyes as he pulled back the curtains. With a great deal of trepidation, she lifted one lid then the other, allowing her the time needed to adjust to the glasses and the light. The lenses created a silvery effect.

“It will take some getting used to.” Cyrus laid steadying hands on her shoulders. “But, for now, tell me what you see or, as it might be, what you cannot.”

“I see shapes. Nothing in focus.”

“As you train your eyes, they will see what is there and your brain will fill in the rest.”

She tensed. Her world would become shades of silver, not even black and white. No color or real images to latch onto. She was, had always been a visual person. Fashion, theater, and art her forms of enjoyment. Now they were stripped from her.

His hands tightened. “This isn’t forever, Ashlynn.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“I have faith in the powers of my sisters and in their abilities to heal.”

“I feel like I have lost my faith.” She didn’t know where those words came from, but they tore from her. Tears pooled behind her lids, and, before she could turn away, do what she did best, hide her emotions as her mother trained her to do, he supported her in the strength of his arms. Warm and caring, taking on her issues as if they were his own.

“Your pain is tearing me apart,” he ground out into her hair. His lips brushed the top of her scalp.

The bathroom door opened, and Serena strolled out. Ashlynn had forgotten the presence of the other woman. Cyrus jumped back a foot. “Your bath is ready as Sage requested. Did I interrupt something?”

Cyrus regained his composure first. “Not at all.”

Serena smiled and headed back into the bathroom. “Whenever you are ready.”

“She didn’t believe that for a second.” Ashlynn giggled.

“You might be surprised. She is a bit naive sometimes.”

“No one is that naive.”

“I wouldn’t bet on it.” Cyrus said his good-byes to both ladies before taking his leave.

Ashlynn entered the bathroom and waited to be left in private. When it became obvious the blonde intended to stay, Ashlynn sighed, undressed, and climbed into the warm bath. The scented water made her skin tingle and yet it took on the sensation of liquid satin.

Relaxing, she lay back as Serena began to hum. “Do you sing as well?”

“I do but I am not permitted to.”

“Not allowed?”

She nodded and shrugged as if it were not surprising. “Rekkus would have my fin if I sang a single note.”

“Do you mean hide?”

“Pardon?”

“He will have your hide? But what right does he have to say you can’t sing. What kind of control freak is he?”

“He controls almost every aspect of the island, but then, to maintain safety….” She shrugged.

The gnawing feeling rose again. Perhaps her sister didn’t have much choice when it came to staying here or not. Ashlynn had tried to push the kernel of concern to the back of her mind, but it kept creeping forward. “Do you know where my sister might be?”

“‘This early in the morning? Still in her cabin, most likely. I can ask Rekkus.”

“Does he know her every move on the damned island?” Maybe her words came out nastier than she meant it to, but the other woman seemed oblivious to the venom.

“Pretty much, and more so as Dana gets closer to her time.”

Sitting up, Ashlynn wrapped her arms around her bare legs, bringing her knees to her chest. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Has Dana ever left the island? I mean, since she arrived here.”

“I don’t think so. I haven’t always been here, but every time I came back after meeting her the first time, she was here. When Sage goes to the mainland, Rekkus gives her a shopping list for Dana.

“Is she happy?” After all, she could be putting on a brave face for her family. It wasn’t as if Dana would trust any of them to step in and help. They had already proved lacking in taking care of their own.

“She loves him, if that is what you mean. She does tend to throw things at him when she is angry. My husband and I are their neighbors. Kaleb, my husband, gets a great deal of enjoyment in watching Rekkus deflect her temper.”

Ashlynn lay back down and wondered how bad things had to get for her mellow and level-headed sister to throw things at anyone. How controlling was this brother-in-law of hers?

***

Shade knocked on the door of Rekkus’ cabin at eight-thirty sharp. He had been assured Rekkus would be available and Dana ready for his arrival. The two cabins had been placed off the beaten path enough for most guests, para and human alike, to stay away. In case those deterrents weren’t enough, the guards who stood watch up the hill would fend off any others. The smells of fresh-cut wood and paint assailed his nostrils, and he saw why. An addition had been made to accommodate the growing family within.

His cleanse hadn’t been as pure as he’d hoped for the evening before. His mind kept drifting back to Ashlynn Stone whose scarred beauty haunted him as much as her masked pain. When her soul cried in distress, he heeded the call and ran to her as if his life depended on it. She affected him in a way no other woman had. Her touch electrified him, and he longed to learn what else she could affect.

Rekkus threw open the door, naked as the day he came into the world. Shifters, mermaids, and even some witches seemed oblivious to the fact the majority of people did not walk around naked.

“Let me get dressed. My morning rounds took longer than expected.”

“Security in the nude? A new concept even for you.”

“I do it as my tiger.”

“I was joking.”

“So you say,” he called from the bedroom.

Dana mumbled something before Rekkus said in a voice far gentler than he had ever heard from the man, “Stay in bed, luv. You were up all night, and no one will think anything of your being lazy for a day. Go back to sleep.”

Shade moved closer to the open bedroom door. “May I come in? I can read the cubs as easily with her lying down. She can even sleep through it.”

“One second.” The gruff protective voice he expected from Rekkus. “Dana, where is that bloody nightgown of yours?”

Only Rekkus could walk around butt naked and still care if Dana lay covered in a sheet. After a bit of rustling and a few more grumbles from both, they bid him to enter. Surveying the sparse room of natural tones and wooden furniture, Shade allowed his gaze to come back to the heavily pregnant woman lying on her side in bed. He needed to assess if anything in the room could interfere with his reading. Family heirlooms might contain traces of ancestors’ souls. Especially from Rekkus’ family who had all died horrific deaths at the hands of his mother. His focus locked on the lepidolite ring on a chain around Dana’s neck.