Absolution (7 page)

Her head tilted to the side. She met his gaze, a deep sadness filling her eyes. From her emotions, her lack of questions, he realized she knew he hadn’t changed his mind. But no matter what his plans, he would save her first. If required, he would even be willing to die to save her. “I’m—”

“Lucan Woods, Druid.” She bit her lip, the first sign of nervousness she exhibited, then lifted her chin, pulled her shoulders back, and stepped out of his grasp. “I am called Allana, daughter of Queen Graciela of Otherworld by way of hIfreann.”

“Shit.”

***

At last, Luc had found her. Allana ignored the shivers of awareness that had beat at her from moment she spotted the sigils on his forehead. Swallowing hard, she struggled to calm her pounding heart. His mother had explained to her about the sigils’ importance in protecting her son. Only a soul mate would see them.

That still didn’t explain her response to him. It was immediate. Too visceral, delivered straight to her core at a base level, as if every cell in her body were tuned to him, matching, merging, joining. Her skills told her even their heartbeats had synchronized and now pulsated in rhythm.

She fought to pull herself together and overlooked the bitter, biting wind on her cheeks and the wet snow beneath her knees. They had a chance. He had trusted her enough to ask her to heal himself and his friend. She shrugged the heavy flakes from her shoulders and bent over Luc’s wounded companion. She placed her hands over the hole in his upper chest. Blood oozed between her fingers. She inhaled, followed by a brief touch of her tongue to her upper lip. “Drop your glamour, daemon. It uses too much energy—energy I must tie into to heal you.”

His brown eyes snapped opened and held her steady gaze. Grim exhaustion marked him. “You know what I am? How?”

“Your essence tastes like pickled peaches, sweet yet sour.”

His startled glance flicked to Luc. “If she can tell who I am then there’s every chance Farley knows. He’ll expect you to have killed me. If you haven’t, he’ll drain me as soon as we return. He’s weakening too quickly not to. Not even his personal daemons will be enough to counter your poison,” he hissed through clenched teeth.

“We’ll play it by ear and decide what to do once I’ve talked to him.” Luc gestured his chin toward her. “For now, obey Allana and drop the glamour.”

Luc was poisoning Farley
? She caught Luc’s worried look and the shake of his head to silence Rice as he squatted by his shoulder.

She blinked. The daemon’s façade disappeared and revealed his true image. “Ah, Clan Baskuli. Yours is renowned throughout hIfreann for loyalty and dedication. They recount tales of valor in the clan’s eons of service to the Goddess. It is said that is part of your...DNA, an unwavering quality.”

“And yet another fan of your work appears.”

At Luc’s sarcasm, she bit her lower lip and glanced at him. Strange, for all his cynicism, his face held only puzzlement. In his current state, he wasn’t a man who handled challenges well to his preconceived construct of who fought for the Goddess. “Yes, Luc, the Baskuli are much honored. Please brace his shoulders.”

She stroked her finger along the daemon’s face, trying to focus him on her, providing the calm she needed to infuse. “Your name, please?”

“Rice,” he ground out.

“I need to follow the path of the injury.”

Luc frowned. “I wouldn’t have left him if I’d thought the wound was serious. And Fritz wouldn’t have put his life at risk. They’re longtime buddies.”

She studied him over Rice’s shoulder. He had a good heart, but allowed pain and loss to rule it. He hid kindness, love, and caring behind cold logic and the need for revenge. His wounds, unlike Rice’s, would be the more difficult to heal. “This is not your fault. The glamour’s drained him.”

Rice grasped her forearm. “Heal only the bullet’s track, nothing else. I need the scar.” He coughed and blood leaked from the corner of his mouth. “In case I return with him, we need Farley to believe we barely survived an attack.”

The physical damage was an easy repair. He had already sealed the ripped vessels and knitted the majority of the shredded muscle himself. Yes, he had drained himself of energy, but he had also completely healed all the internal organs, including the nicked artery. All that was left for her to repair was the bullet’s tunnel through his surface muscles and connective tissue. So why simulate being near death? What was his game?

She stared into his eyes. Pain and honor reflected back at her. Ah, it was for his partner’s benefit.

She glanced up at Luc hovering over them, then back to the daemon. “So I’ve been informed.” Intent on an explanation without alerting or alarming Luc, she reached out and created a private mental pathway to Rice.
What is your agenda? This subterfuge is beneath one of the Baskuli Clan, even for a valiant cause
.

His eyes flamed as his gaze drilled into hers. His hand closed around hers, preventing her from pulling away.
Protect him. You can heal him. Give him back his faith. He’s important to our future.

Are you a seer
?

A weak smile creased his lips.
Save him, please
.

She spread her fingers over the wound’s entrance and feigned repair of the supposed internal damage. What did this daemon expect of her? She had saved Luc multiple times, but could do no more for now. She had to find her daughters. Nothing was more important. Her dreams warned of impending danger. They were Fae-Seraphim half-breeds, and should the Dark Lord or his demons capture them, three worlds would pay.

No norm, magick, or supernatural in all of Earth, hIfreann, or Otherworld would be safe, all because of King Raziel’s need to play puppet master.

Allana touched the man’s soul and jerked as the shadow of Rice’s loss of his family rebounded against her heart. His need for revenge, like Luc’s, plowed through her. She gasped. Her heart skipped a beat then raced. Rice’s pain and crippling sadness she could ease, if only around the edges. Once dulled, his Baskuli poise would dominate and prevent further actions that put his life or mission in jeopardy.

She took a deep breath to stave off being overwhelmed by his emotions and regained enough control to examine the source of his grief. As his memories poured through her, a course of action clarified a means to reroute the impact of his past. To truly join the living, Rice needed to shed the guilt of not being everything to everyone he loved.

The man’s life force glowed with strength and purpose. The same radiance shone within Luc, along with the guilt driving them both. Neither of them had the perspective to realize no one could save everyone they love.

Sometimes fate is too persistent a taskmaster to defeat.

With a slow exhale, she cleansed her mind and built her power. The presence of both men bore down on her. Two honorable men, soul-sore from trials not of their making, their deep repression of anguish beating like two time bombs. No one would survive their explosion.

Allana had always known she could heal bodies. Now, her destiny lay exposed before her.

Upon entry into hIfreann, the Goddess had touched part of her essence, allowing her to live in her domain. Now it seemed the Goddess had done more than that. She had bestowed upon her the ability to speak to souls through a physical connection.

She was to heal both the flesh and the soul.

The Goddess’ restorative goodness spiraled through her body. Elemental fibers flowed from her fingertips into Rice, connecting physical tissue and ethereal soul, boring deep into his being. White tendrils of love and forgiveness bathed his life force. The Goddess’ gift of hope sought all the weakened areas of his soul, mending them.

As she eased back into herself, she joined the last of his shredded muscle and nerves and exited his body. The only mark left on him, a reddened puckered hole. Were it not for the bullet’s scar, there wouldn’t be evidence the daemon had ever been injured.

Fully integrated back into her body, she buried her hands in the mounting snow, washing Luc and Rice’s blood from her hands. She could have used her magick to erase the evidence. However, in her time on Earth, she had gotten into the habit of using norm customs. It was easier, safer, prevented mistakes that would expose her—for all the good it had done her.

With a sigh, she focused on the present and prayed Luc understood what she was about to say was for him, as well. “It’s time to put your sorrow aside, Rice. You were neither at fault nor responsible in your family’s death. Farley was the sole culprit. It is his sin alone. Take solace in knowing that, at the Goddess’ behest, specific Paladins of hIfreann help special souls—your family and others—to travel to Summerland. To guide them and help their transition until it is time for their next life. King Raziel selects only the noblest of spirit for this duty.”

“My family,” Rice whispered. “What of—”

She bowed her head. Her fingers never ceased the soothing caress on his horn. “They transitioned before my time. Farley is well known among the caretakers for his viciousness in culling the virtuous and Paladins handle these noble souls with care.”

Her eyes met Luc’s pain-filled, questioning gaze. “I have met your father, mother, and sister.” At his look of confusion, she continued quickly. “The caretakers asked for my help in their—her transition. Your sister was terrified, too frightened to listen to her guide. My presence was less threatening, more calming.”

She had expected Luc would take solace in her words. Instead, they seemed to have the reverse effect on him, increasing his level of panic and horror to a heavy pressure in her chest.

“My sister wasn’t born yet.” His voice strained to near breaking. “A Druid’s soul enters the body with the first breath, not before.”

“Your mother was in labor when Farley arrived. She hid her pains to keep from frightening you while they hid you.” She refused to tell him the entire truth she had learned from his mother. The heartrending tale of how Farley had tortured the pregnant woman, and taken her infant to feed on after the child’s first breath, the despair of both parents at their inability to stop the terrible crime.

Farley absorbed the magick of three gentle beings that day. If not for the silver sigils tattooed on Luc’s forehead and about his body, there would have been a fourth. “Your sister’s soul holds strong magick, the strongest in centuries. When reborn, she will be powerful indeed.”

He cleared his throat and scrubbed his hands over his face. “Are they—”

“They’re surrounded by the love of family and friends awaiting rebirth.”

She watched Luc’s reactions to her recollections. If the white knuckles were an indication, the tension hadn’t bled from him. She bit her lower lip and forced herself to maintain his gaze as she lightly touched his mind. Echoes of a little boy’s screams of impotent rage at the sight of the ashen remains of his family filled her mind.

Without conscious thought, she grasped his hand, sending waves of love and forgiveness into him, wrapping him in the Goddess’ luminescence. Gradually the echoes of the past eased their stranglehold on his memories. His eyes held a glimmer of hope, the first she had seen in them since she had touched his spirit. Her heart swelled in surprise at his faint glow. Maybe she could save him as she had promised his mother.

He needed her, and evidently, she needed him in return. While she always felt joy at the recovery of those she touched, she had never felt a reciprocating flow of power. Yet Luc’s response had triggered a surge in her essence, her hope. Together they could stop Farley and save her daughters. Certain of her new direction, she vowed not to leave Luc. At this moment, he needed her more than her children did.

Farley had to be stopped. Left free, he would drain every magick on Earth.

She glanced at the thick, dark clouds above them. The snow hadn’t stopped and showed no signs of change soon. Much like Farley at first glance, it appeared beautiful but in truth, with its icy, enveloping cold, it killed in silence.

With a smile at Rice, she gestured to Luc. “Help me get him up. We need to return to the cabin. Over the past year, I’ve learned these mountain roads become impassable when a blizzard hits.”

“Where do you think you’re going?

CHAPTER 7

One look at the short, stubble-faced, dark-haired country boy and Luc shoved Allana behind him. “Who the hell are you?”

“You knew me as Earl. I’m now Joe Burts.”

Rice whipped out his obsidian blade from beneath his coat. “Fuck, a Fomorii. Should’ve known. He was easy to kill.”

The man before them morphed into a hulking, seven-foot creature with squat legs the size of tree trunks. Muscled simian arms hung low with sledgehammer fists brushing the ground. His face was a mass of squid-like tentacles. Shark’s eyes peeked out of the moving feelers on stems like mutated Black-eyed Susans.

Luc swallowed hard. Shit, now what did they do? Sure, Rice had dropped his glamour, but he wasn’t much taller than Luc’s six feet. They wouldn’t be able to get close enough to use the knife, and if they did, they’d never survive the crush of the arms.

Saw an axe in the woodpile. I’ll stall him while you get axe. Have Allana teleport to safety
, Rice ordered on an open telepathic channel.