Shatter - Sins of the Sidhe (18 page)

Coming around from the fire, Devlin chimed in, “Ava’s right lass. We have to find out what the other side is saying. They’ll feel the pull themselves. They’ll ken more than we do about the state of matters.”

Devlin was a traitor. He was supposed to be on her side. Double Damnit.

“But you’re forgetting something, Devlin. The reason I did what I did that day in the woods was because I was so desperate for one of them to talk to me and none of them would. I was answered with silence and nightmares. No soul would speak to me then, and none will now.” Ha, point for Rowan.

“Aye, but that’s no’ entirely true is it? I’ve seen your memories
a stór
, the dead still come to ye.”

“What are you talking about?” Rowan kept her voice steady and her anger in check.
How could Devlin know that?

“I’ve seen your Gran-da, your uncle, and some others that were your friends. They came to ye while ye were dreaming - with messages for others.”

Rowan felt like she’d been slapped. She didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. Didn’t blink. The look she gave Devlin was enough to slaughter him where he stood. Trying her best to keep her voice steady, it took every ounce of control not to punch him in his handsome fucking face. “That was private, Devlin. How did you know any of that?”

Walking up to her like she was a rabid animal and needing to watch for her snarly bite, he slowly stepped in front of her and grabbed her hand. “It happened in the bonding,
mo mhuirnín. ‘
Twas not something either of us could help. When ye claimed me, everything inside of your heart, mind and soul poured into me. All I have to do is open up and see it.”

He grabbed her hand and pressed his lips to her fingers. He felt sorry for Rowan, truly, that she didn’t understand what all it meant to be joined the way they had. There were no secrets between them now, or so he thought. How he missed the black dog memory was beyond him. Those nightmares would have sounded alarms in his head as he strolled through her memories. These darker things were hidden, and will be harder to seek out. The woman has hidden walls deep within her, and that could be a big problem.

All the air and anger went out of Rowan. She sat back and rolled his words around in her head. All he had to do was open up and see it. He was starting to sound like Ava. “Does that mean that if I open up, I’ll see everything from you?”

“Aye lass, everything.”

Well that was good. She hated being the only vulnerable one. This made it feel more even. Although she wasn’t feeling quite ready, she wanted to balance the scales between them, the sooner she did, the better she’d feel. Petty, but true.

Rowan narrowed her eyes at Devlin, “Show me how to open up. I want to see something from you.” That was a demand. A dare.

Devlin had stepped right into her trap and couldn’t back out now. No matter if there was an audience. Rowan was an eye-for-an-eye kind of girl. He should have known better. Clearing his suddenly dry throat, he agreed and then held her hands in his. They were soft and a little cold. He rubbed his own big hands over hers to warm them up a bit and then started with instructions. There was no way to tell which memory would fly into her head, he’d be a totally open book, and now he was the one feeling a little vulnerable.

“Lay down,
a ghrá,
and take deep, steady breaths.”

She did as he asked. A familiar scent of herbs drifted into her senses and she heard birds chirping. Sinking into a deeper relaxation, Rowan felt like she was flying. A leaf blowing in the wind. His memories played like clips of movies in her head:
a boy playing with a wooden sword. He was chasing his two older brothers around while they snarled like dragons. Messy, thick hair on his head and feet bare, he ran up a hill and tripped on a rock, skinning his knees.
Flashes of other memories came into her sight
. The feeling of agony while he put rocks on a grave. Devlin as a young man lighting a fire in the woods to cook dinner. Adam scolding him for riding his treasured war horse across an icy river.
Battles and swords clashing, screams of victory
.

Faster, faster.

Memories clicked and snapped, here one second and gone the next
. He was laughing with some men in a field. Kissing a redhead behind a pub. His body surging back and forth while a woman’s slender legs were high in the air.
Okay. That was enough. Rowan let out a yelp and flayed her arms out in the air.

Son-of-a-gun that was fun and horrible all at once. She glared at him and sneered, “I saw that.” She was trying to be mad but knew she had no right. He couldn’t control his past anymore than she could her own. It’s not like she was a virgin either when they met. But it still hurt to know that someone else had made him feel good. She was going to have to work that one out on her own time. Right now, they had ninety-nine problems but a bitch ain’t one.

Rubbing her eyes and taking a big deep breath, it was now or never. If she didn’t seize the moment, she’d chicken out for sure. Rowan steadied her body and calmed her mind, preparing herself to do what she swore she’d never do again.

“Someone get me a candle and let’s see if we can talk to the dead.”

Rowan ran her hand over the top of several candles they’d collected for her. Her methods were her own, which was probably part of how she’d gotten into all this trouble in the first place. Like most of her decisions in life, Rowan’s choices were made by a feeling that came from within. The place where, now she realized, magic had lain nearly dormant in her. Rowan acted on what she felt in her very bones.

Adam and Ava agreed to let her do her own thing for now. They had so many spells and wards cast around the house, they felt certain they’d be protected. Devlin cast his own protection around the room for good measure.

After moving her hand several times over a yellow pillar candle, Rowan picked it up and smelled it. These were no ordinary candles like you’d get at the mall. These were special: marked for goodness and positive energy. Ava had quite a collection stashed in Adam’s house. Rowan breathed deep, eyes closed, and felt that old familiar hum inside her chest. Her inner hummingbirds were waking up and fluttering about.

“This one will do,” she said, while placing it on the coffee table.

Tonight, Rowan had to rely on being in a dream-state to connect with the spirits. If she was going to toss one more truth into the honesty jar, she was two parts scared and three parts excited. It had been a long time since she deliberately sought out the dead. It was something she dearly missed, but knew it was not a healthy way for her to live. Her obsession with the dead is what landed her here in the first place. With the help and encouragement of Ava and Devlin, they lit the one candle and Rowan laid back. Smelling the familiar herbs and hearing birds again, Ro concentrated on where she needed to go for answers.

Slam!

She was at the white house again. Déjà vu was sounding the alarms in Rowan’s body. She looked on the porch, but Charlie wasn’t there this time and neither were the boys. She walked into the house and around the first floor. The layout of the house was all wrong. She walked past what should have been the kitchen only to find a small room with bright bottles scattered across the table. Rowan had a brief thought that someone should hang them in a tree but it was gone before she could finish the thinking. Walking forward, Rowan found it hard to breathe.

“Hello? Is anyone here?”

A noise from the other room had her changing directions. Down another hall, she saw what once was the living room was now a large empty cavern. Nothing made sense and her instincts were sending her into flight or fight mode. Unfortunately, she wanted to fly.

“Don’t touch anything,” said a voice in her head. The voice was not her own. It sounded much younger.

“Who are you? What is this place?”

“Go to the attic” was the reply.

Feeling like a fool, she knew better than to listen, but listened nonetheless. Rowan made sure not to touch anything she walked by, which wasn’t too hard. There was barely anything in the rooms or hallways. Up the steps she went until she came to a small wooden door that led to the attic. It opened automatically so she didn’t touch the latch and she climbed the steep narrow wooden steps. Rowan’s body was starting to shake from all the energy around her and she wanted to bolt out of the house and back into the safety of Devlin’s arms. That was not an option though. She pressed forward.

Upon reaching the top step, Rowan saw the place was a wreck. Junk, boxes, furniture, mannequins, old sewing machines, everything and anything was piled into this space. It was going to be much harder for her not to touch anything up here. There was just too much.

Turning around carefully, she yelled out once more for someone to answer her. A gleam in a mirror flickered and she saw flames. A darkness came into focus and Rowan saw that it was a child. Not in full color and not in all black, the spirit was gray, like the color of ashes. Rowan could hardly make out the child’s features but saw that it was a young boy about six years old. Her heart sank. To see a child dead so young is a terrible thing.

“What am I to do?” she asked.

“Help us,” he said.

“Help you how? I don’t understand what to do!” Frustration straining her voice.

“He is coming!”

On a scream coming from the child or herself, Rowan didn’t know, but darkness engulfed her and she couldn’t move.
That’s when she heard it: her name, coming from the lips of her angel.

“
Rowan”
he purred.

The air rushed out of her. His voice felt like velvet down her spine. Rowan instantly sank to the floor in a puddle of lust and longing, she’d come undone and didn’t know how.

Loud footsteps were heard but from what direction, Ro couldn’t tell. Her mind was a frazzled mess and her body was all out of sync. The Shadow Lord stepped into her view and she cowered on the floor in terror, which sent a wave of lusty need and passion down the malevolent Sidhe’s body.

“Come with me, Rowan. I’ve waited so long for you.”

An all too familiar thrill of desire washed over Rowan at the sound of his deep voice. He wanted her, she could tell by his tone - demanding and seductive. And God help her, her body was responding to him and betraying her heart. Like old lovers, his familiarity washed over her and through her body. She’d never seen him as anything but a large black shadow before and part of her wanted to see what he really looked like, the other part wanted to shut her eyes tight with fear.

Still in shadows, Rowan could barely make out his features. But what she could see was frighteningly beautiful. Legs long and thick, they were made of pure muscle wrapped in tight black leather. Large, heavy black boots fit for a warrior went thumping like battle drums as he walked closer. His bare chest was harder to make out, but strength and sinew wasn’t too difficult to see. Tattoos crawled across his chest and down his bulging arms. His black hair was long and draped down to his chiseled abs. His eyes were the color of ice, and the stare he gave her was enough to make the boogie man himself cry for his mother. He was terrifying, seductive, and glorious. Large black wings stretched the length of his Godly body, making him look like a beautiful dark angel.

Her dark angel.

Looking up at him, while tears were spilling down her face, Rowan begged for help. Her mind was frantically trying to find a way to escape, wake up, get help, ANYTHING to save her. Meanwhile, her body was still betraying her. Panting in equal parts of fear and need, her hot sex was throbbing with ache for him.

It felt all wrong. His presence was so familiar to her, it was frightening and confusing. Cicadas hissing in her ears were making her go deaf from the echoes. Emerald eyes burning bright and locked onto his, she lost all control of herself.

“Come with me,” he said again.

She shook her head, trying to hold her ground, but the rest of her obeyed. Like a well trained dog, Rowan crawled on hands and knees behind Lorcan, towards the mirror, and into the fire.

Reaching the other side, no heat burned her skin although the flames licked over her desperate body. All went from searing bright to the darkest black when she reached the other side. Crowding her, shadows were flying, slithering, crawling and dancing. Some came close to her, full of curiosity, while others skittered away to hide. But Rowan didn’t notice any of it. Still crawling like a wounded animal, sweat dripping down her back, she was trying to break herself free of his spell.