Highland Shift (Highland Destiny: 1) (43 page)

Put it away for now.

Elena slowly followed Brigid up the stairs, her heart in her throat.
Please be alive, Faolan.
She went into his room.
Our room
, she thought with a stifled sob. Helping Brigid pull the covers down on the bed, Elena was struck by the scent of the sheets. They smelled like him, earthy and elemental, essential man. She experienced a memory of mornings wrapped in his arms. Loved and loving, igniting a fire in the heart she thought had died with him. She never thought to capture those feelings again.

Brigid and Elena worked together to heal Faolan’s wounds; Brigid chanted and used potions, Elena cleaned and used warm water. Together they wrapped the wounds securely in bandages of torn sheets, although he wasn’t bleeding much anymore. Whether that was his wolfish healing powers at work or because he’d already lost so much blood, Elena didn’t know.

“Brigi—”

Brigid cut Elena off, “He’ll be alright for a few minutes. Go clean yourself up lass,
then return straightaway. Hurry.”

Elena couldn’t understand
Brigid’s tone, and snapped back at her, “I don’t have anything to change into,” as if that were relevant.

Brigid stood up to her full height, which was considerably taller than when she was the ancient shopkeeper. She looked at Elena then with the same piercing look she’d used outside. Elena deliberately lowered her defenses and let Brigid search her heart.

“By the gods and goddesses, it was all a lie!” Brigid exclaimed. She rushed across the room and pulled Elena into her arms, crooning in Gaelic.

Elena pulled away stiffly, not trying to see into Brigid, holding herself tightly together lest she lose her threadbare control.

“Och, lassie, put your back down and change now. Your clothes are still here. Faolan never cleaned them out. I thought he was being maudlin, not getting rid of them, but he refused, said he wasna ready yet.”

Brigid opened a drawer and handed Elena a pair of her own jeans, then reached into another drawer and grabbed a t-shirt. Without waiting for a response or providing any explanation, she shoved Elena toward the bathroom and returned to Faolan’s side. “Hurry, lass!”

When Elena saw her reflection in the bathroom mirror, she understood Brigid’s desire to have her in clean clothes. She was covered in blood. Faolan’s blood. Washing herself quickly, she put on the clean clothes and tried to piece this all together.
Too much had happened, too many truths were lies. What had Brigid meant when she’d said it had all been lies?

Brigid was waiting when she came out of the bathroom. “Elena, forgive me. We have much to talk about, but not right now. Faolan needs you the way you needed him when you’d been lost in the chamber. Can you do it? Will you do it?”

Looking at her strangely, Elena replied, “Of course, tell me what you need me to do.”

“He has lost a lot of blood. We have stopped the bleeding, and he heals remarkably quickly. However, I fear he does not want to heal; that he willna come back unless he believes there is a reason. I can feel him giving up, even now. He is very nearly gone. You must bring him back, Elena.”

“What do I do, tell me how,” Elena demanded, desperate to start before he gave up completely.

“Lay next to him, lass. Let him feel you. I know you are untrained, but you must call to the sisterhood. They are deep within you, waiting for you to ask for their help. Feel his heartbeat and join yours to it. Use your voice inside his head and in his ears. Project your love, your healing light. Hurry, lass.
Och, I doona’ know what it is with the two of you, but it worked once for you.  Perhaps there is hope for him.”

Elena climbed on the bed and got under the covers with Faolan, jumped back out slipped off her jeans and then climbed back in again. She lay on her side, with her arm carefully draped over a part of his chest. She placed her hand over his heart and felt a very faint beat.
Once, twice, and then nothing. His heart gave up the good fight, and he slipped into the void.

Elena gave a howl, refusing to accept that he was really gone. “He
lp him, help me,” she beseeched, not knowing to whom she cried.

She pressed her legs to his, skin to skin, “Faolan, you come back to me right now!” She felt the light of the sisterhood join hers, and peace filled her heart. Elena spoke quietly to Faolan, using both her voice and her heart to reach into his inner place, sending the white light that had joined them the first time they’d made love.

“Come back to me, Faolan. Come back, my love. I need you. Your clan needs you. Come, Faolan, please come home.” Elena crooned to him in a singsong voice. Her hands stroked his arms and shoulders.

She’d already mourned his death
once, she couldn’t bear it if it happened again, if she was the cause of it a second time. She pushed away all the negative energy and focused on their love, on the time she’d known he’d been happy, and replayed her memories for him.

Elena felt a small bump under her hand, impossibly faint. She pressed her chest hard against his back and concentrated on her own heartbeats, seeking to join his heartbeat to hers. There was another beat, stronger this time, then another, and another, until Faolan’s heartbeat joined hers and became stronger, a steady rhythm beneath her hand.

“Is there something else I should do? His heartbeat is steady now,” Elena looked up at Brigid, seeking further guidance.

Brigid’s face was pale, and she was holding herself together every bit as tightly as Elena had been. “He stepped into the void, I felt him go.”

“Yes, I felt his heart stop just after I lay down. But it started back up almost immediately, I’m sure he’s going to be okay.”

Brigid was a powerful Druid, skilled in healing and when she felt Faolan step into the void, her grief knew no bounds. A Druid healer could start a stalled heart, cure fevers, and heal many wounds. Once someone stepped into the void, however, there was no power on earth that could bring him back.

As Elena was getting into place under the covers with Faolan, Brigid had felt him go. His spirit gave up on this world, the world he believed he would have to endure without Elena. When Elena put her arms around him, she had felt the last of his heartbeats, but his spirit had already gone.

“Help him, help me,”
Elena had cried. Brigid felt a power such as she had never known surge through the room, carried on Elena’s cries. This was not a Druid power, it was the pure energy of light, to the degree that it cleansed all emotions and consumed every shadow.

The sisterhood appeared to help Elena, responding to her pleas, but Brigid knew it was not their light that called Faolan. Their light was feeble compared to the illumination Elena had called forth with her pleas. Brigid had long known Elena was Faolan’s light. She had read it in the tealeaves, sensed it
whene’r they were together. However, the light Brigid had sensed then was pale compared to the radiance Elena had called forth to bring Faolan back from the void. Brigid had to turn her eyes away, least she be blinded by the brightness.

It appeared from her
comment, Elena did not realize his spirit had gone, nor that it was she who had brought his spirit back. She knew only that his heart had restarted.

What
was the lass? They had thought she was of Druid descent; mayhap there was more to her story. She needed to find Earnan, as soon as he returned from getting Red and Lilly. For now, ‘twas important that Elena stay with Faolan. Brigid needed to think.

“Aye, lass, I believe he will recover in time now.”

“Brigid, I don’t understand, how are all of you alive?”

“Lass, I doona’ understand why you thought we were dead, we will talk it out when Faolan recovers, however, ‘tis important you know, he never stopped loving you. Not for one moment. I need to go help Earnan when he returns with Lilly and Red. Will it be all right to leave you here with Faolan? You willna leave him?”

“I won’t leave him,” Elena replied through gritted teeth, as Brigid left the room.

Elena rolled Faolan onto his back and checked his wounds. The largest wound now appeared as pink scar tissue, still healing, but no longer a danger to his life. Brigid had sent up a meal so Faolan could eat and drink when he woke. Elena poured a little of the water into his unresponsive mouth. Even if his skin was healing, he’d lost a lot of blood; he needed liquid.

His mind felt very far away to her, not like when she felt him leaving earlier, but like he was hiding, not quite ready to come out. She wondered if she had felt that way to him when she was recovering from her dehydration. She needed him to come back to her, needed him to explain how he was alive, to make everything okay again.

Emptying the bowl of fruit on the tray, Elena filled it with warm water and began to clean Faolan’s body. Although she’d cleaned the wounds previously, she cleaned them again, before moving on to the other parts of his body with the dried flecks of blood. She refilled the bowl of water frequently and kept working until the water remained clear. Once the water was clear, she started again.

It was impossible not to think about the magnificence of the naked man, or of the ways he’d made love to her. As she gently wiped his face, she touched her lips to his, softly, lovingly, tasting him. She moved to his chest, running the warm, damp sponge over every chiseled muscle, remembering how he had jumped when she’d scraped her nails over his nipples. She washed the broad expanse of his pectorals and followed the washboard ripples of his stomach.

She tore her eyes away from his flaccid manhood, knowing he was well and truly far from her, she had never seen him when he wasn’t at least semi-erect. Ceding his privacy, she draped the towel across his hips, feeling a little bit dirty from having such thoughts while he was unconscious.

She moved to his legs, working first on his lower legs and feet before moving up to his thighs. She began to feel his consciousness, it fluttered against hers, fragile. He was much farther away from the void now, and beginning to make his way back. She sensed despair, loneliness, heartbreak. And she sensed the beginnings of desire. Glancing up to his towel, she saw the telltale signs of his returning arousal.

Desperate to bring him back to her, she reached under the towel, knowing she was violating him, yet positive he needed her. He swelled at her touch, his breathing changed, but still he didn’t waken. Fighting a losing battle with her morality, Elena began to stroke him, murmuring his name with her mind, while her lips wrapped around him. Faolan threaded his fingers into her hair and moaned.

When she had taken all he had to give, she looked up, fearful of what she would see. She had violated him, taken advantage of him while he was unconscious. He had wanted her to believe he was dead.
Dear God what did I do?

His hands slipped from her hair, and fell to his sides, and he lay there, breathing fast, but otherwise motionless. She looked at his face, his eyes were closed tight, and Elena was stunned to see a single tear, slip out, and disappear into his hair. Then he gave an anguished moan, his chest heaved as he fought the urge to sob, and more tears spilled from his eyes.

Elena was scared. She had never seen Faolan lose control of his emotions like this. This was an anguish equivalent to hers on the floor of the kitchen, when she’d finally accepted his death. His grief was overwhelming him and threatened to pull Elena with it. She didn’t know the source of this heartache, but if her being here caused him this pain, she needed to get away, to leave him in peace.

Shielding her heart, she crawled up alongside of him, cradled him in her arms, and crooned nonsense words, promising to go, telling him everything was okay. When he calmed, she climbed from the bed, pulling the covers over him, and slipped on her jeans. She turned to find him staring at her, an unfathomable expression on his face.

“Elena?” he croaked.

“Yes, Faolan, I’m here, but don’t worry, once you’re healed—” Elena’s face twisted, and she couldn’t say the words. She would leave. It was what he wanted.

At her words, he turned his head away. A knock sounded at the door and Elena opened it to find Brigid and Earnan. Stepping back to let them in, she reinforced her shield. With so many powerful Druids in the room, she felt inadequate and vulnerable. These three had lied to her in the worst possible way imaginable.

She had felt the loss of Faolan with the intensity of losing a limb. In her dreams, she was whole. Every morning she would wake, and just for a minute, he was still alive. Then reality would wash over her, cover her with loss. The grief, the sense of loss, they were her constant companions. All of them had let her mourn. No, she would not be putting her shield down in here. She used her anger to make herself strong.

Brigid went to Faolan, and pulled his covers back far enough to check on the wound in his side. Satisfying herself that he was nearly healed, she reached with a mother’s loving touch to brush his hair back from his face.

“How are you feeling, lad?”

He turned his head toward the wall, and didn’t answer.

Brigid’s
nostrils flared, and she turned toward Elena.

Elena braced herself for the recriminations and armed herself with righteous anger. Yes, she had fired the weapon that injured Faolan. She shouldn’t have been out there trying to kill a man. She wouldn’t have been out there if they had told her Faolan lived. She knew they must have thought she would never let him go, but she would rather have watched him walk away, than ever think he was dead.