So I kept drawing the energy in. The feeling of power was completely gone and I was feeling weak, weaker than I ever had. I couldn’t take much more. So I did the one thing I could think of. I clenched Bokor’s spongy flesh with my right hand and focused harder on pulling energy out of him then put my left hand into the air and with the last bit of my strength I opened myself up letting all of the energy built up inside me and flowing into me through Bokor out. As the consciousnesses inside me realized I was freeing them I felt a sudden burst of elation as the energy burst forth. Not just from my hand but my entire body.
Every bit of me thrummed and vibrated and I had the sense of a brilliant light surrounding me just before I darkness started closing in around me. I had done it. I’d saved Millie and Jarrett, and most importantly Ian. As my body got weaker and weaker and the darkness moved in I had a sharp pang of regret. My sweet, sexy, wonderful Ian. I would never see him again. But he was safe. I knew I had weakened Bokor enough that Ian and Jarrett could kill him. Ian would live. That was enough for me. That was my last thought before everything went black.
Fog filled my brain and my whole body ached. I pried my eyes open and tried to blink away the dry, dusty feeling in them so I could see. After a minute the world came into focus and I realized I was staring up at my bedroom ceiling.
“Wha…” the dust in my eyes was also in my voice and I started coughing.
River was by my side in less than a second, pulling me to an upright position and placing a cup at my lips. “Drink. It’s water, come on, drink a little. It’ll help clear your throat.”
Reluctantly I took a sip. River’s sickbed brews were not always very appealing. But, true to her word, it was just water. The cool liquid did, indeed, wash away the grit and sooth my throat and dry mouth. After draining the cup I let River put some pillows behind me to help me sit up.
Unfortunately, the water did nothing to clear the fog in my brain. Why did I feel like I’d been ran over by a team of horses? I looked around the room to try to fill in the blanks in my head, but came up mostly with questions. Why was I in bed in the middle of the day? Why was River hovering over me? Why was there a chair covered with pillows and blankets as if someone had been sleeping in here?
River followed my gaze to the chair. “Ian’s been sleeping there. He insists, but he’s almost as banged up as you are. I made him go get something to eat and lie down flat for an hour.”
Ian. Ian is hurt. Memories slammed into me so hard I fell back against the pillows. The past several days flashed in my mind in pieces. Making love with Ian in his bed. Rangel turning into a corpse. Making love with Ian in the rooftop garden, fighting in the garden. Bokor, fighting skeletons, Millie unconscious on the floor. Then so many voices in my head.
I sat straight, and fumbled with the blanket trying to get out of the bed.
“Oh, no you don’t,” River said in her most stern voice. “You are not moving for at least another day. You keep your ass in that bed. I mean it.”
I relented and leaned back. “Millie?” I croaked.
“Millie is fine. She is at home with her parents, and recovering quite nicely. I visited her this morning. She was chattering about getting back to work and starting the Academy in a few days. And before you ask, Farah is doing well, also. She is still at the hospital, but she will make a full recovery. As will the other women rescued. No, don’t talk, and don’t glare at me. Sit there, rest. I’m going to go get you some mint tea for your throat, and if you are nice, some visitors.”
I leaned back, letting the soft pillows and quilt envelope me. I was too weak to argue.
She bustled out and I heard her say, “She’s awake. No, don’t you all crowd her. I need some mint tea with honey. Anya can take it in to her. You can visit for five minutes, one at a time. She’s too weak and tired to handle all of us blathering at her at once.”
I laughed, then groaned as a sharp pain ripped through my side. Okay, so maybe resting wasn’t such a bad idea. I laid my head back and closed my eyes. A few minutes later Anya came in carrying a steaming mug. She set the mug down and sat on the edge of the bed, wrapping her arms around me, being careful not to squeeze too hard.
“Fee, I’m so glad you are awake. You scared the crap of us.” She scolded gently, her eyes glimmering with unshed tears.
I smiled at her, despite the ache in my head. “It’s okay, An. I’m okay.” It came out more of a whisper than I’d meant it to. Anya handed me the cup of tea and I sipped it, letting the hot, sweet liquid slide down my throat. After I drank half the cup I cleared my throat and when I spoke again my voice was stronger, if a little scratchy. “How long was I out?”
“Three days.”
“What?” I’d been unconscious for three days?
The tears in Anya’s eyes finally overflowed and trailed down her cheeks. “We thought we were going to lose you.”
I pulled her to me, ignoring the ache in my arms as I wrapped my arms around her. “It’s okay. I’m not going anywhere.”
“You better not,” Pinky’s voice sounded from the open doorway. “Anya, River told me to tell you that your time is up. But since I’m the adult around here, I say you can stay during my visit.” Pinky raised his voice loud enough for River to hear the “I’m the adult around here” part. As usually, all three of us giggled. Poor Pinky, almost three hundred years old, looked more like our younger brother than the only father any of us had ever known.
Anya sniffled, then wiped her eyes. “No, I’m good. I need a nap before work. I’ll see you later.” She bent over and kissed my cheek then was gone.
Pinky didn’t sit. “I’m not going to stay long. There are some fellas out there who want to come in too.” He bent down and dropped a kiss on my head. “You know, you scared the heck out of us, Fee-diddly-dee.”
I couldn’t help the tears that his use of the nickname he hadn’t called me since I was ten brought on. “I know Pinky. I’m sorry.”
“Forgiven.” He smiled and walked to the door. “But if you ever break a pinky-swear again soul-sucking bad guys are going to be the least of your worries. Got me?”
“Gotcha,” I said, grinning as he left. I loved my family, but I was glad they got through their visits quickly. Butterflies swarmed my stomach. Ian would be next, and I needed to see him so badly.
But the next person to come through my door, though equally welcome, was not Ian.
“Jarrett,” I said, trying to hide my disappointment.
“Don’t look so happy to see me, Fee,” he laughed and jerked his head toward the living room. “Sir Necromancer out there isn’t so sure you want to see him. So, I’m testing the waters.”
“Ugh, he’s an idiot,” I groaned.
Jarrett laughed and sat on the edge of the bed as Anya had. He leaned close and whispered, “He is an idiot. But cut him a little slack. He’s an idiot in love. I’ve never been such an idiot myself, but I hear it’s not all it’s cracked up to be. Especially when said love is kidnapped and nearly dies.”
“Okay. Point taken. So, three days? What the hell happened?”
For the next twenty minutes Jarrett regaled me with the story of how they’d figured out I was missing, the trail to find me, and sneaking into the Parthenon clothed in the robes of Bokor’s followers. Then he told me that when I released the spirits from Bokor, I let loose a burst of energy so powerful it hit the columns of the building and the whole building started collapsing around them.
“Luckily, Sam and ten Blades showed up just before you did whatever it was you did to Bokor. They had already started releasing the captives. The other women helped Farah out, and Ian and I grabbed you and Millie. We nearly didn’t make it out. Ian took a hit from piece of falling ceiling. Don’t look like that, he’s fine. Wow, Barroes isn’t the only idiot in love, is he?”
“Shut up, Jarrett,” I said, but I could feel my face turning red.
“Okay. Okay,” he laughed at my feeble attempt to punch him in the shoulder. “Well, Kiddo, now that I know you are gonna stick with us in the living world, I’m gonna head out. I met with my informant a couple of days ago and I need to hit the road.”
“Alright. Be careful.” I said, turning my cheek up for a kiss. “And send the idiot in, will you?”
“Sure, thing.” And he was gone.
After several long minutes, Ian finally appeared in the doorway. His face was bruised, a bandaged covered a gash above his eye, several other small cuts were sprinkled over his face and neck. His left arm was wrapped in a bandage and nestled in a sling hung around his neck.
I gasped. “Are you okay?”
He smiled, shyly. “I’m fine. It looks worse than it feels.”
“I’m sorry.” I said, softly.
“This isn’t your fault. The ceiling fell. Well, sort of your fault, but you got the bad guy, Bokor’s dead. And I’m just bruised.”
Not what I meant, but I went with it for the moment. “Did you know I could do that? Pull the spirits out of his body, I mean?”
He sat in the chair River had sat in before. “No idea. I didn’t even realize they were still intact inside him until you started releasing them. But, Fiona, that was amazing what you did. Are you okay? I mean, I know River says you are going to be fine, but are you okay? Having that many life energies, that many spirits flow through you had to have been a strange experience.”
“It was, though I only really felt what was happening for a moment. I could feel them, hear them. It was terrifying. Then when they realized I was releasing them the only thing I could feel was their joy. Then everything went black. Now, I don’t feel any of that left over, so I’m guessing there won’t be any permanent effects.”
Ian’s face grew serious. “No one else really saw what happened, there was a lot of confusion and trying to free captives and fighting off Bokor’s minions. Jarrett saw, but has no idea what it was. The general consensus from the rest of them is that Bokor tried to take your energy and it backfired. It’s probably best for people to keep thinking that.”
He was right. I didn’t know if I could do what I’d done to Bokor a second time, and I didn’t want to find out. And if anyone suspected I might be capable of draining the life out of a person, it would be very dangerous to be me. “I understand,” I told him. Now we shared one more secret.
“Fiona,” he started in a choked voice.
“No. Stop. Let me talk first,” my words rushed out, drowning his. “I need to say this and if we keep talking about this crap that doesn’t really matter I won’t be able to get it out.”
“Okay.”
“Ian, I’m sorry. Really sorry. I didn’t mean what I said on the roof.”
“Yes, you did,” his voice was matter-of-fact.
I sighed, wishing he weren’t right. “Okay, maybe I did, at the time. But I was wrong. I was scared. But I was more scared when I thought I’d never see you again. And terrified to the tips of my toes when I thought you were going to die if I couldn’t stop Bokor. Frankly, I’m still scared. You’ve quickly become the most important person in my life, even beyond my family. No, beyond Pinky and my sisters, because you are my family. Somehow you’ve become a part of me I can’t bear losing and for the first time I can understand the pain my mother must have felt when she lost my father.”
I paused, knowing there was more to say, but I couldn’t find the words. I didn’t need to.
“I know. I love you too,” Ian said, and in an instant he was over me, our mouths locked. Heat surged through me. I wrapped my arms around him trying to pull him towards me, but we both cried out in pain. He pulled back.
“Now might not be the best time to have make-up sex,” he grinned.
“Probably not,” I sighed, disappointed. “I suppose River will be forcing you out of here and into bed pretty soon, anyway.”
“I’d like to see her try,” he grinned again, then came around to the other side of the bed. He pulled back the covers and slipped in next to me, his good arm going under me and his injured arm resting on my belly. He pulled me close. “I’m not going anywhere.”
I rested my head on his chest. Being in his arms felt safe, and right, and like it was where I belonged.
“You know, I can’t promise I won’t be a hard headed bitch in the future.”
I felt his grin against the top of my head. “I can promise you will be. And I’ll be a pompous ass. It’s who we are. But I love you and I’ll do everything I can to make sure you know that every day.”
“So, you are going to be all girly and touchy-feely?” I laughed.
“Yes, as a matter of fact, I am.”
“Okay,” I said. “I can live with that.” And I realized I could, and I was looking forward to it.
Writing a book is never done by just one person. A team of people have input both before and after the book is written and gets into the hands of the reader. As I sat down to write the acknowledgments for this book, I worried about how I would possibly be able to list the people who helped in order of importance. Then I realized I couldn’t. There can only be one number one on paper, yet there is no way I could have produced this book without any one of the people on my list. So, I will start with the actual production of the book, and move on from there. But know, as you read this, that every single person mentioned has a special place in my heart and has contributed untold support for me and my writing.
My first thank you has to go to my husband, Steve, and not just for his undying support and tolerance of 3 am writing sessions. If it weren’t for him there wouldn’t be a book, quite literally, because there would not have been a bad guy. I had Fiona in my head for a couple of years but when it came to actually giving her a story, I knew she needed more than just the run-of-the-mill-romance, which was what I was used to writing. I needed a bad guy for her to beat, but I had no idea how to write a bad guy, or even come up with a good idea of one. Luckily my husband is a fan of horror and has a brilliant mind. While I wrote Bokor and all of his scenes, the basic idea was Steve’s. And every scene was run by him with me asking, “Does this sound right? Is he evil enough?” Also, thanks to my husband the kitties got fed, and the puppy got taken out, dinner got cooked (thank goodness for pasta and sauce) and dirty laundry didn’t pile up around our ears while I was on deadline.
I will never be able to thank Sherry Ficklin enough for her support, but I’m going to try. She has been my go-to girl throughout this entire process. She has listened to me whine, she has read, re-read, and edited. She helped me make the excruciatingly difficult decision between traditional publishing and going independent. She cheered me when I deserved it and she chastised me when I needed the push to get back to work. And she did all of this while writing two and a half books to my one! She has been my friend and confidant and if she hadn’t believed in me and the book, I might have given it up long ago.
I also must thank Marlene Sanchez Liotti, my partner in crime, for her constant cheering and support. Especially at the end when it didn’t seem like it would ever get done she had writing marathons with me to help keep me motivated and writing. I love you, my Cuban sista from anotha mista.
And, of course, so many thanks to my actual sister, Tammy Hyde Carson. She has read for me, helped me tweak the love scenes, and gave me the encouragement I needed most when I needed it most. But above all else, she has loved me, and has always been my biggest fan, even when I didn’t realize it. I love you sissy.
In life we are each given one mother, but if we are truly lucky we get to pick another one. I couldn’t have picked better than my mother-in-law Patricia Westerfield. There is no doubt she was meant to be in my life, so it is really lucky that I love her son. She believed in me when I didn’t believe in myself and she and my father-in-law, Al, have been unbelievably supportive and I will never be able to thank them enough.
And last, but certainly not least, all of my friends, fans, and readers that have followed my progress, read my short stories, and encouraged me to write more. I couldn’t do this if I didn’t know there were a few people out there that would actually read and enjoy my work. So thank you, from the bottom of my heart.
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