Veiled Passages (22 page)

Then he saw it and his blood ran cold.  There it was: the creature from his nightmares.  The bear-like creature with the long claws that had haunted his dreams since he’d been a boy.  The scars on his arm started to burn and for a moment he was twelve again and terrified that he was going to die.

It turned and looked at him, blood, still fresh, dripping from its teeth.  The victim’s blood.  That was all it took to bring him back to reality.  Tonight an innocent woman had been killed by this creature and others had died the same way.  This wasn’t Ireland, and this wasn’t some damn enchanted forest.  This was Chicago.  This was his city. And he wasn’t going to let some oversized beast get away with murder.

“Hey, Magilla, I’m not twelve anymore,” Sean growled through gritted teeth. “I said it once and I’m only going to say it one more time. Police! Freeze!”

The creature started to lunge and Sean lifted his gun and shot it in the heart.  The impact knocked it back a few feet, but it regained its footing and came at him again. 

Sean shot again, and again, and again.  He emptied the entire magazine into the beast, but it only slowed it down.  He was out of ammunition, so he pulled out his taser.  He set it at the highest possible setting, aimed and shot.  The probes attached themselves to the creature’s chest and Sean shot 50,000 volts of electricity into its body. 

The creature roared, grabbed the lines and ripped them from his chest, pulling the taser out of Sean’s hands.  The gun clattered to the ground.

Sean reached back and pulled out the final weapon in his arsenal, his wooden nightstick.  He moved into a hand-to-hand combat position, his stick in his right hand, and faced the creature.  He knew he needed to stay away from the talons, and he prayed he could find some spot of weakness before he became victim number nine.

The beast approached him slowly, its black tongue darting in and out along its elongated jawline. Its yellow eyes never blinking, staring coldly into Sean’s soul.  He remembered those eyes.  He remembered the last time he faced the beast clearly now.  He remembered thinking he was going to die.

He lifted his right arm up and waited.  He needed it to be close enough to get around it and attack it from the rear.  It moved closer.  Sean feinted to the left and dashed to the right, but the creature quickly mirrored his movement.  He tried moving to the left, but the creature moved just as fast, blocking him and forcing him past the section wall and towards the corner of the garage.

Sean knew the only way out was through the beast. And he knew he was out of options.  He screamed at the top of his lungs and ran toward the creature, his right arm and nightstick raised defensively.  The creature bellowed back and raised its arm, talons clicking into place, to attack.

A glimmer of light.  Sean heard the soft sound of air being pushed and the beast suddenly froze in its tracks. Eyes widened in shock, it seemed like the beast was going to fall forward. Sean jumped back and watched as, instead of falling, the reptilian head tottered on the stump of neck that protruded from its body and fell with a crash to the ground.  It split in half, green ooze spilling out, but then a moment later, the creature and its remains crumbled to dust.

Sean looked up from the dust on the cement floor and saw her.  Once again wiping the green ooze from the blade of her broadsword.  But, she wasn’t a girl any longer.  She was a woman. A tall, strikingly beautiful woman.

“You,” he stuttered.

“Aye, and here you are trying to fight off a Heldeofol with naught but a stick again,” she said, shaking her head. “Did you learn nothing from your last experience?”

“Aren’t you a hallucination?” he asked.

She smiled brightly at him. “Aye, Sean the Brave, I’m only a dream.”

And then she disappeared.

Chapter Forty-nine

“Sean, what are you doing here?” Mary screamed and pulled her robe tighter when he walked into her house on Saturday morning.

“What the hell kind of greeting is that for your dear brother?” Sean asked.

“It’s the greeting of a frantic bride on her wedding day,” his mother said, hurrying across the room and planting a kiss on her son’s cheek. “I was like a banshee. My father nearly threw me out of the house.”

“Margaret,” Rosie called from upstairs. “Do you know where the hairspray is?  I can’t seem to get Clarissa’s curls to stay in place.”

“I’ll be up in a trice,” she called.

She turned to her son and smiled. “I’ll see you at the church,” she said with a little warning in her voice. “And make sure those brothers of yours behave. No practical jokes on a wedding day.”

Mary clutched her stomach. “I hadn’t even thought of that,” she said. “I don’t know if I’m going to survive this.”

He walked over and kissed her. “You are a beautiful bride, even in your robe,” he said. “You’re going to knock his socks off. Bradley’s a lucky guy. So, where do you want me to put the tuxes?”

“All of the men are at Bradley’s house,” she said. “Would you mind driving over there?”

“Is there food over there?” he asked.

“Ian’s there,” Mary replied drily.

Sean laughed. “Well, then, I’m sure there’s food. By the way, did Ian’s fiancée make it in?”

Mary nodded. “She’s staying at the hotel,” she said. “She’s lovely, Sean. I met her last night.”

“While I was driving through the streets of Chicago, picking out the perfect powder blue tuxes with pink ruffled shirts, you were partying it up here in Freeport?” he complained.

“Well, actually, it was a quiet dinner here,” Mary said. “We were all pretty exhausted after the case we’d been working on. Speaking of cases, how is the one you’ve been working on?”

“Solved, but it was one of the weirdest cases I’ve ever worked on in my life,” he said. “When you and Bradley get back from your fancy honeymoon, I’ll tell you all about it.  Just one little bit of advice.”

“Sure, what?” she asked.

“Stay out of the woods in Ireland,” he said.

“But, we’re going to Scotland,” she said.

“Yeah, well just in case, stay out of those woods too,” he replied.

She laughed and hugged him. “Will you do me a favor and make sure my groom and the rest of his motley crew make it to the church on time?” she asked.

He snapped a quick salute. “I’ll do my best,” he said.

“I love you, Sean,” she said.

“Love you too, brat,” he replied.

Chapter Fifty

Mary sat in the large anteroom down the hall from the chapel.  The room was furnished for a waiting bride: a large marble vanity with a gilded mirror, a soft-tufted ivory velvet stool and plenty of other chairs upholstered in ivory and gold brocade for bridesmaids and visitors.  The thick ivory carpeting complemented the gold and ivory striped wallpaper. It was a room designed to reflect elegance, but also to inspire serenity.  

For now, the room was empty except for the bride and her mother. Margaret stood behind Mary at the vanity, putting the final touches on her hair, a ritual as ancient as the wedding ceremony itself.  Glancing into the mirror at her mother, she watched her wipe a tear from her eyes and felt her own eyes water in response.

“Are you happy for me, Ma?” she asked, pulling a tissue from the container on the vanity counter.

Margaret helped herself to a tissue too and wiped her eyes and nose before replying. “Well, of course I am,” she said. “Bradley’s a good man and he loves you more than life itself, as he’s proven many times. You’re going to be so happy. And you’ve already got a beautiful daughter who loves you. I couldn’t be any happier for you.”

Mary wiped away another tear. “Then why are we crying?” she asked.

Responding with a watery laugh, Margaret used the tissue yet again. “You’re my little girl,” she said. “And you’re getting married. You’re moving from your Da’s and my care to the care of your husband.”

“And, yes, I know that you’ve been more than able to take care of yourself for many years,” Margaret inserted as she saw Mary about to interrupt. “But even though you were independent and capable, you were still our little Mary-Mary.  And now you will be a wife and a mother. It’s a step that cannot be reversed and it will change your life.”

“Is that a bad thing?” Mary asked. “Do you think it’s a bad thing?”

“Oh, no, darling,” her mother said. “These are selfish tears I’m crying. Tears of a mother so proud of her child, yet wishing, somehow, she could turn back the years. Wishing that the time had been longer and she had treasured it more.”

“I love you, Ma,” Mary said.

Margaret wrapped her arms around her daughter and kissed her head. “And I love you, Mary,” she whispered through her tears. “And now, I’m going to let your Da have a few moments with you while I go fix my face.”

Mary pulled another tissue from the holder and blotted around her eyes while she watched her mother hurry from the room.  No sooner had the door closed than it opened again.  Her father, a bear of a man, walked in, dwarfing all of the furniture in the room.  His tuxedo fit him perfectly, but his tie was slightly askew.  She stood and walked over to him, and, with the kind of affection and love that is only shared between a daughter and her father, gently adjusted the tie and kissed his cheek.

“You’re looking mighty dapper, Da,” she teased.

“I feel like a penguin in this getup,” he confessed gruffly. “And can you believe it, Mary-Mary, Sean had the gall to make me wear pink.”

He opened his suit coat and Mary saw the light salmon-colored vest and the grey, black and salmon colored striped tie that matched it. “He remembered I wanted to use the color salmon,” she whispered, tears brimming in her eyes again.

“No, darling, this is pink,” her father corrected. “Salmon is a fish that you put on a bagel with cream cheese.”

She kissed her father’s cheek again. “And only manly men can get away with wearing pink,” she said. “And it’s only for a few hours.”

“Oh, well, if it will make you happy,” he grumbled. “I’ll do it.”

“Thank you, Da,” she said.

He placed his big, burly hands on her shoulders and just looked at her for a moment. His little Mary-Mary.  Gone were the pig-tails, the scraped knees and the toothless grin. His little girl had somehow grown up and turned into this stunning woman. He started to speak, but his voice caught in his throat and he looked away for a moment to gain his composure.

Finally, he turned back, nearly undone by the glistening tears in her eyes. “Are you happy, darling?” he asked.

She nodded, too overcome to speak.

He let go of one shoulder, reached in his pocket for an oversized handkerchief and stepped closer to blot the tears from her face. “I remember doing this when you were just a wee lass,” he said. “You never wanted your brothers to see you cry, so you found a hiding spot.”

She nodded. “In your workroom,” she whispered.

“I thought the little people had snuck in,” he teased gently. “And what did I find? A wee fairy princess in the corner, with a runny nose and a broken heart.”

She took the handkerchief from him and blotted her own eyes. “They wouldn’t let me play with them,” she said, with the same fierce determination she had shown when she was six.

“And we showed them, didn’t we?” he asked, a gentle smile forming on his lips.

“Yes, we did,” she chuckled, remembering all of the times her father took the time to teach her how to play baseball and basketball or work with her on target practice, so she could keep up with her siblings. “You were always my hero, Da.”

Nodding, he put the tip of his finger on her nose and took a deep shuddering breath. “And now it’s time for me to step aside and give way for your new hero,” he said. “I like your Bradley. He’s a good man and he has eyes for no one but you.”

She blotted her eyes again. “You can both be my heroes,” she said.

He leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek. “Well, then, I don’t mind sharing that spot with him,” he agreed. “And even though I’m giving you away today, I want you to know, if ever you need your Da I’m only a phone call away.”

Standing on tiptoes, she kissed him back. “I’ll never forget that, Da,” she said. “One of the reasons I love him is because he reminds me of you.”

“Well, then, are you ready to walk down the aisle?” he asked.

She took a deep breath and nodded. “Could you give me just another minute, Da?” she asked.

He kissed her forehead. “You take all the time you need. You’re the star of the show. I’ll be waiting in the hallway for you.”

After he closed the door behind him, Mary walked across the room and stood in front of the full-length mirror.  She was a bride. She almost couldn’t believe the day was here; it was like she was dreaming and any moment she’d wake up and find herself back in her bed. She took a deep breath.

“You could still run away with me,” Mike said softly, appearing behind her. “The angel and the princess. We could have our own cable reality show.”

Her nerves calmed as she laughed. “Or, as the rest of the world would see it, the crazy lady who talks to herself,” she replied. “I don’t think we could sell it to any channel.”

“You look like a princess, Mary O’Reilly,” he said. “And Bradley is a lucky man.”

“Thank you, Mike,” she replied, “for everything. You’ve been the best friend I’ve ever had.”

“And yet, you didn’t ask me to be your maid-of-honor,” he quipped.

She turned away from the mirror and smiled at him. “I’m sorry, but you just didn’t have the legs for the dress.”

“I love you, kid,” he said. “And I want you to know that I’ve established some new rules, now that you’re getting married.”

“And they are?” she asked, a sinking feeling in her stomach.

“Bathroom and bedroom are now off limits,” he said with a grin. “I thought I ought to give you a little more privacy.”

She smiled. “Thank you, Mike.”

“Hey, no problem,” he said, leaning forward and placing a kiss on her cheek. “Here’s looking at you, kid.”

He stepped back and faded away. Mary blotted her eyes once again and took one more look at herself in the mirror before she left to join her father in the hallway.