Shades of Avalon (4 page)

As Guardians, we had a more feral nature than humans—our base animal instincts amplified when in danger. It was part of the reason for many tales of supernatural creatures that sprang up across the continents. The nearest to reality being the fae—fairies. Oh, not the tiny little winged creatures that lived at the end of yards or sprinkled magic dust everywhere they went. The darker stories, the ones about beautiful magical creatures descended from gods, the people of the mounds or Daoine Sídhe, as we were once called.

Right now every instinct in my body told me to protect: my blood pulsed through my neck and throbbed behind my eyes. The doctor’s pen scratched across a chart. The smell of coffee lingered on his breath and adrenaline laced his blood. His own instincts must have kicked in, and he suspected something amiss in the room he was about to enter.

“Where’s Caleb?” she demanded, her voice still weaker than I expected it to be. “Where is he? Is he hurt? Is he…Is he…” The words caught harshly in her throat as if she couldn’t bear to finish.

The tears of frustration that were only threatening in her eyes moments ago gathered and overflowed. Lewis’s head flashed to the right. He coughed and looked back to Annice. She turned to me before quickly wiping away the tears from Triona’s face with a linen handkerchief.

“Tell me,” she commanded.

For all intents and purposes, Triona was queen of all Guardians. We both carried the royal bloodline, but it was obvious from day one Triona didn’t want the title. However, technically she
could
order Annice to tell her.

“Shush child,” Annice murmured, bringing herself nearer to Triona, almost to her ear. “The doctor knows you’re awake. It’s vitally important when he comes in that you don’t mention Caleb.”

“What? Why?” she said, completely incredulous.

“Please, Triona, do what I ask. Caleb is my son, and I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.”

She stood up straight, leaving Triona gawping at her. Both Annice and I held her arms immobile by her side in a vice-like grip. To human eyes it would look to be no more than the comforting grasp of a concerned relative. Annice’s face became a perfect mask of serenity. I turned to the door, my mouth pressed into a rigid line.

The doctor previously standing outside approached, chart still in hand—Triona’s chart I presumed. He was an older man, tall—late fifties I guessed—with thinning, gray hair that had once been dark. His wide shoulders slumped a little, giving the impression he suffered from a back problem, maybe from a life spent working on his feet. His eyes surveyed the chart with intent despite the fact he had already spent several minutes looking it over. We turned toward him, as if waiting for confirmation of her injuries. We knew the broken bone in her arm would already be well on the way to mended.

“Hello, Triona.” His eyes shifted briefly to the chart in his hand to confirm her name. He moved past me to the heart monitor, his eyebrows pulled down to a frown, and he glanced toward me although he said nothing.

My stomach somersaulted so violently it should have been audible.

“Well, you’ve had a very lucky escape.” The doctor looked at each of us in turn, as though measuring us. Lewis looked away, not as accustomed to acting out these faked human scenes.

The doctor repeatedly glanced at her chart, a deep line forming between his eyebrows.

I stared at him blankly as all the possibilities sifted through my mind. If he suspected something was amiss, he could keep Triona here. I squeezed her arm gently, reminding her she should say something.

“Yes, yes,” she forced out. “When can I go home?”

The doctor smiled indulgently and took a deep breath. He hadn’t given his name. Was this an oversight or just incompetence? Incompetence could play to our advantage if we had to manipulate this man to get out of here so we could find out what really happened.

“We’ll just have another look.” He pushed me aside again.

I released the pressure from Triona’s arm and stood slightly back, still within hovering distance. I could prevent her from bolting at less than a millisecond’s notice.

Triona played her part as the good patient to perfection. She allowed the doctor to prod and check her skin for contusions, take her pulse—which had calmed to a reasonable pace—and check her chart again. Then he held a pen light and had her follow his index finger as he passed it in front of her eyes before checking her pulse a second time.

This whole procedure was necessary to preserve the pretense of being human, but already my patience had worn thin with each of his excruciatingly slow movements. Always with the pretense—it appeared to be all anyone cared about. I had much more important things to figure out. All this façade meant nothing if we couldn’t find Caleb. For Triona’s sake, we needed to get to the bottom of this and get him back.

Triona must have been watching me. As soon as the thought flittered through my head, her heart rate spiked and the still nameless doctor didn’t miss it.
That’s it, I’ve held back long enough. It’s time to use my mojo.

“I’m sorry,” Triona lied seamlessly. “Examinations make me nervous.” Then Triona smiled. The doctor’s expression eased, and his stance visibly relaxed. “I’d like to go home now.”

Triona had beaten me to it and used her influence over him. Something I’d never seen her do intentionally.

He blinked a couple of times, dazed, and shook his head. “Yes, of course. You’re just fine. I’ll have one of the nurses come in and get you ready to leave.” He beamed a smiled at Triona and promptly signed off on her chart. Nodding a quick acknowledgment in my direction, Annice’s, and then toward the others, he left.

As soon as he was gone, Triona’s heart began to race, and she reached up to snatch my hand. Her face scrunched up, and the tears she’d been holding back began to flow down her cheeks. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Amanda leading Carmel and Lewis from the room. Carmel’s hand pressed to her mouth, and Lewis had to practically push her across the threshold.

“Just hold it together another few minutes, and then we can get you released,” I pleaded with her. I hoped my words were getting through, while at the same time I experienced an irrefutable sense of pride in my sister. So far she was proving herself stronger than I’d given her credit for. I just hoped her strength endured.

Annice left the other side of the bed, no doubt to rejoin Samuel and await the arrival of Joshua, Caleb’s brother.

Triona grasped my hand and attempted to draw me closer although she didn’t speak. Her eyes looked haunted, pleading.

“What is it?”

She yanked at me again, and I eventually realized that she didn’t want to speak out loud. She didn’t want anyone else to hear. She reached up and grabbed the collar of my sweater, tugging it sharply and pulling me down.

“I can’t feel him,” she whispered in a voice betraying every emotion simmering beneath her surface.

“Huh?” My face tightened, my eyebrows pulling together.

Her voice was so low I was positive she didn’t want to share with anyone besides me. “I can’t sense Caleb. I can always feel him near, and I can’t now.”

Her emerald eyes grew wide and desperate, searching for some hope, her eyelashes damp from tears. The golden skin of her face paled, but I didn’t know what to tell her. With a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, I realized what she meant and why she didn’t intend Samuel and Annice to know. The connection between soul mates was so strong it bound them and made them complete. It was something the individual didn’t know they were missing until they experienced it. Some even sensed their mate near before they knew them—almost as if they shared their life force. There was emptiness without it.

That pretty much described how I felt the day Amanda was taken to the Otherworld—such an intense loneliness even surrounded by people—that I imagined my heart bleeding.

I gripped Triona’s hand so tight I discerned the bones beneath her skin. I wanted to say something…anything, but words totally failed me. One of the reasons Triona never let go of Caleb when we thought he had died was because his presence always surrounded her. I hated to think what it meant that she couldn’t feel him now.

When he’d left before, it was after he had made sure Triona was safe. It looked more likely by the moment that my assumptions were way off base and that someone had taken Caleb against his will.

A nurse swept into the room before I could say anything else. Words were pointless anyway. Only finding Caleb would make any difference now.

Chapter 3

Chasing Shadows

“I T
HINK
I S
HOULD
L
EAVE
,” Eila, Joshua’s mate, suggested. In fairness to her, she had complete awareness of her presence making us all a little jumpy, being a life-sized lie detector. She stood up and skimmed long elegant fingers over Joshua’s shoulder to indicate he should remain behind.

“No,” Triona said, holding her hand up, palm out in front of her.

Eila halted immediately. Her head tilted, and her golden eyes widened ever so slightly at Triona’s forceful request. It was a first for Triona to want Eila to remain near longer than necessary. A tiny crescent formed on each side on Eila’s full lips, and curiosity sparkled in her eyes. Her white blond hair hung in blunt, straight sheets of gossamer to her chin. Of all of us, Eila was by far the most ethereal. Her tiniest movement seemed as fluid as pouring cream. Despite her contemporary clothing, a long cashmere sweater over soft, fitted jeans, Eila appeared most like what I imagined the old Sídhe to be.

“Please,” Triona continued softly, “if you don’t mind, I would like you to stay.” Her hand fell by her side. She seemed to lack the strength or desire to keep it up.

Eila nodded and retook her seat beside Joshua, sliding her fingers through his. He smiled weakly, but his jaw remained too tight to give it any authenticity.

In contrast to Caleb, Joshua favored his mother in appearance with finer features and a slightly narrower face, although his coloring was as dark as the other men in his family. I liked Joshua much more than Caleb. He possessed an unassuming and dignified nature, and he made a great pepperoni pizza.

As the most recent ex-member of the Council, Eila could have some insight into what we were about to discuss. I had a nasty feeling that wasn’t why Triona wanted her to remain. More likely it had to do with the fact no one could lie when asked a direct question in Eila’s presence. The truth came out regardless of intent.

Triona stayed by the door in living room of Lewis and Carmel’s house, scrutinizing everyone. “Who is going to start?”

“Perhaps you would like to?” Samuel said back to her quickly.

“I really don’t want to.” Triona’s eyes flickered toward Eila, appearing not entirely comfortable with the way the truth came straight from her unconsciousness.

“It would be best for us to hear exactly what happened,” Samuel pressed.

Carmel came back into the room, carrying a tray with mugs and coffee. None of us needed caffeine, but I couldn’t fault her for wanting to keep busy. She laid the tray on the coffee table—neutral territory. Lewis stood up, allowing her to take his armchair by the fire and sat on the armrest next to her.

So much of Triona and me was embedded in this house—as though we were a part of it just like the foundation. I had built the kitchen cabinets with Lewis one summer. Both Triona’s name and mine were scratched into the wood behind the books in the bookcases on either side of the fireplace. We had sat on the rug watching Saturday morning cartoons and eating Froot Loops, and been measured each birthday with a nick in the frame of the pantry door. We even had a tree house with a rope ladder out back. Growing up, this house seemed gargantuan—a happy castle where we became a family again after we had lost our parents.

Yet with every seat occupied and the brocade curtains drawn on this secret meeting, it felt claustrophobic.

Carmel wrapped her fingers around a coffee mug. She leaned toward Triona, inching off the seat before settling back, twisting the cup in her hands. Like me, Carmel probably wanted to comfort Triona, but my sister had made it clear she didn’t want to be treated like a coddled child anymore. Triona had enough of that growing up when everyone around her was unconsciously drawn to protect her—an innate guarantee for the safety of the queen.

I threaded my fingers through Amanda’s and tightened my grip on her hand, needing to connect to her physically. Our life together was unexpectedly tentative once more, dangling above a void. The decisions made in this room had the capacity to alter everything.

Triona swallowed thickly, as if she might vomit. Her skin remained the same pasty shade it had been at the hospital. I thought it had been the artificial lighting there. But even in the ambient glow of the flickering log fire, she appeared drained of vitality.

“We reached the outskirts of town, and I was telling Caleb it would snow soon…Of course he argued.” She smiled sadly, twisting her hands in her lap.

Amanda didn’t hesitate to move from my side on the couch. She stood and went to Triona’s, placing a hand on her forearm. It wasn’t in Amanda’s nature to hold back when she saw someone in pain, especially not her best friend. She cared little if a person wanted to borrow her strength or not, only if they needed it.