Black Heart (33 page)

couldn’t walk, but he didn’t let that stop him from going to his wife.

Squinting, he moved forward, crawling as he struggled to remain conscious. He couldn’t

see anything so he moved towards the sounds of Marty’s cries. Someone had her, was

hurting her and he was helpless to do anything to stop them so he did the only thing that he

could think of before he lost consciousness.

“Protect……..her, Shayne.”

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-

“Tristan!” Marty screamed, watching helplessly as Tristan dropped to the ground. She

moved to help him when the voice that she’d come to think of as her protector spoke,

drawing her attention to a large and very handsome man with short black hair and killer

green eyes. Then again, all the men in the room, seven the last time she counted, were

handsome with jet black hair and killer green eyes and no doubt related.

“Was that really necessary?” the familiar voice demanded with a put out sigh as he

moved to Tristan’s side.

“Aye,” the large man, who’d wrapped her up in a sheet and carried her into the

bathroom only moments earlier, replied flatly.

When Marty tried to walk past the man to go to Tristan, she was surprised that he didn’t

try to stop her. She learned the reason for that barely a split second later when four of the

large men who’d been leaning against the wall suddenly vanished only to reappear by

Tristan’s side before she could blink.

“Oh, come on now, lads!” the man who’d been looking Tristan over snapped as two of

the men grabbed him by his arms and yanked him to his feet and away from Tristan.

“Bring them downstairs.”

“Wait!” Marty said as she rushed to go to Tristan, desperate to make sure that he was

okay. Before she could reach him, two of the men reached down, grabbed him by the arms

and disappeared, leaving her stumbling forward as her heart skipped a beat and she forgot

how to breathe. The rest of the men quickly followed until she found herself alone.

“When you’re ready, we’ll be downstairs waiting for you, Macha,” the large man who’d

helped her to bathroom said softly from behind her, making her realize that she wasn’t as

alone as she’d thought.

“That’s not my name,” she found herself saying as her mind struggled to grasp what just

happened.

“Everything will be okay, Macha,” he promised softly with a sympathetic smile that

struck her as vaguely familiar.

She wanted to point out that everything had been fine before he’d showed up, but at that

moment her stomach decided that everything definitely was not okay.

-
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“What’s she doing?” Liam asked as Quinn materialized in the kitchen, his glare never

leaving Tristan who sat slumped forward in the kitchen chair with his hands cuffed behind

his back.

“Still getting sick,” Quinn said with a sneer of disgust. Shayne knew that if they’d still

been human that Quinn would have been joining Marty. He’d always had a weak stomach,

something they used to taunt and tease him about constantly. It was a pity that he couldn’t

use that against Quinn right now, Shayne thought with a sigh.

“Find something to settle her stomach,” Liam ordered as he folded his arms across his

chest and leaned back against the counter.

“What were those things that she liked the last time she was pregnant?” Declean asked as

he moved into the kitchen.

“Apples?” Finn suggested with a frown as he moved to join his brother in the search for

something that would settle Marty’s stomach.

Aidan nodded as he joined them. “Aye, the lass has always been partial to apples.”

Fergus shook his head as he left Shayne’s side to help with the search. “She doesn’t like

the green ones, lads, unless they’re the sweet ones.”

Shayne rolled his eyes as he pulled up a chair next to Tristan, who was still unconscious,

and said, “She can’t stomach raw apples when she’s pregnant. They have to be cooked.”

The brothers stopped mid-search to look his way.

“Are ye sure?” Fergus asked, frowning.

“Aye. Don’t ye remember the last time that she was pregnant? We had to take turns

stealing pastries from the baker after Tadgh was killed,” he reminded them. In retrospect,

that was probably a bad idea considering the fact that he’d broken their agreement after that

incident and helped Tadgh, again….and again…..and this last time would make three times

he’d helped Tadgh since he’d promised not to.

“You mean when we were all forced to watch Macha die from a broken

heart……..again?” Liam asked, his glare moving from Tristan to him.

“He tricked me this last time,” Shayne bit out, which was true.

Tadgh had tricked them all into believing that he’d finally had enough and was going to

leave Macha alone and give her the peace that she rightly deserved, but he’d lied. He’d led

them all to believe that he needed time and space to get through finally letting her go and

they’d all foolishly given it to him. Not that they’d quite believed him.

They’d kept a guard on Macha’s soul as best as they could and when they’d felt that she

was ready to be born again they’d followed her soul. Once she’d successfully made it into

the unborn fetus, they’d searched for Tadgh. They expected him to try and follow after her,

but they never found him. For a couple of years they’d watched over Macha until they felt

that the likelihood of Tadgh trying anything was slim.

The last time they’d checked on her, she’d been three years old. They all loved her and

agreed that the temptation to interfere in her life and protect her was too much. To be

honest, none of them had been able to stomach the idea of seeing her with someone else.

She belonged with Tadgh. The problem was this goddamn curse that kept them all trapped

in this never-ending cycle of bullshit.

Somehow they managed to walk away from Macha, wishing her the best and praying

that Tadgh wouldn’t do something stupid like torturing himself by watching over her.

Shayne couldn’t imagine being forced to watch over his soul mate and not being able to

touch her, take care of her, and having to be forced to watch as another man took his place.

Then again, he avoided his soul mate like the plague, so he really didn’t have to worry

about torturing himself. Tadgh on the other hand….

Couldn’t stay away from Macha and they should have realized that their younger brother

would have found a way to get past them. Shayne still wasn’t sure how Tadgh managed to

pull it off without any of them finding out. It was only by pure luck that Shayne had

discovered Tadgh living across the street from Macha all those years ago.

He still couldn’t believe how fucking stupid Tadgh had been to do it. What the hell had

he been thinking? He knew what waited for him and he still did it, uncaring about the hell

that he was going to put himself through. Eleven years without any type of protection or

buffer from spirits too desperate for the lives that they’d lost to care about what they put a

young child through was a dangerous way to live. To be honest, Shayne was still surprised

that Tadgh hadn’t been killed or found himself locked up in a mental hospital by then.

“I’ll go get her some apple pastries,” Declean offered, stepping away from the counter to

do just that.

“She’s partial to apple fritters,” Shayne suggested absently as a thought occurred to him.

Then with a sigh and a muttered, “I’ll be right back,” he left the room.

When he materialized in Tristan’s room a few seconds later, he wasn’t entirely surprised

to find Marty dressed, armed, and seriously pissed off. He wasn’t even surprised when she

raised the large gun in his direction and aimed it directly where his heart had once beat.

What did surprise him, and apparently Marty as well if her high-pitched squeal was any

indication, was the bloodied spirit of a man stumbling through her bedroom wall.

With a muttered, “Oh, shit,” Marty swung the gun in the direction of the spirit.

“Oh, my God! Don’t shoot!” the man cried, throwing his hands up into the air as he

stumbled back away from Marty and making Shayne shake his head in disgust.

“Yer already dead, ye dumb bastard!” he snapped at the man as he turned his attention

back to Marty, who he noted was turning an interesting shade of green.

“Don’t….d……don’t mo-“ she struggled to get out.

“Move?” Shayne finished for her with a helpless shrug.

He really wasn’t too shocked when she opened her mouth, definitely to tell him to fuck

off, but instead clamped a hand over her mouth, muttered, “Oh, shit,” and ran to the

bathroom. With a sigh, he followed her.

As Marty struggled to keep the gun aimed on him as she lost what was left of her dinner,

he couldn’t help but smile. It had been a long time since he’d had the chance to spend any

real time with her. Granted, having a gun aimed at his balls while her dinner made a second

appearance probably wouldn’t qualify as quality time to most people, but he’d gladly take it.

He missed the nights they used to spend by the fire, long after everyone else had fallen

asleep, talking and laughing while they pretended that everything would work out. If it

hadn’t been for Tadgh, he probably would have made her his own. Their union wouldn’t

have been based on romantic love, happily ever after and all that bullshit, but one of respect

and friendship. There was no doubt in his mind that he never would have made her as

happy as Tadgh could, but he would have kept her safe. Considering everything that had

happened, maybe he should have done just that.

Chapter
27

“Stay where you are,” Marty said as she struggled to keep the gun aimed on the man in

front of her when all she wanted to do was lie down, close her eyes and curl up into a ball

in Tristan’s arms until the nausea and dizziness went away so that she could pretend that

none of this had ever happened.

“How are ye feeling, lass?” the man asked softly, acting unconcerned about the gun

currently aimed at his family jewels and probably for good reason, Marty realized.

“And if I shot you…..” she prompted, already having a good idea what the answer would

be.

“It wouldn’t affect me at all, lass,” he said with a careless shrug.

With a sigh, she lowered the gun, noting that he didn’t seem to care one way or the other

that the gun was no longer aimed on him, further confirming her suspicions. The man could

disappear, move through walls and God only knew what else, so it didn’t exactly take a

genius to figure out that her one and only weapon would be useless against him.

“Where’s my husband?” she asked, trying to mask her fear for Tristan.

She still couldn’t get over the sight of him being thrown across the room and slamming

into the wall like that. He shouldn’t have been able to move after that, but somehow he’d

managed to crawl towards her before he passed out. He had to be okay, he had to be, she

told herself as she tried to remain calm.

“He’s downstairs with my brothers,” the man said slowly, sounding as though he was

choosing his words carefully.

“I see,” she said absently with a small nod as she tried to wrap her mind around

everything that had happened in the last few hours. Not only wasn’t she crazy, but

apparently she could see ghosts. She wasn’t exactly sure what she was going to do with that

information so she decided to focus on getting them to leave. She raised her gun and pulled

the trigger, taking him by surprise.

“What the bloody hell did ye do that for?” he demanded, startled, but in no way harmed

by the bullet that passed through him.

“Would you have allowed me to use the phone?” she asked, dropping the gun on the

ground so that she could tighten her hold on the sheet wrapped around her.

Frowning, he shook his head. “Of course not. Ye’d only call for-“

“Help,” she finished for him as she headed for the door, shooting him a glare that dared

him to stop her. Ghost or not, she would kick his ass if he tried to stop her from going to

Tristan.

“Ah, hell!” he groaned, disappearing before she reached the door.

Knowing that this might be her only chance, she didn’t bother stopping to change her

clothes. She rushed towards the bedroom door, praying that she got to Tristan before they

could disappear with him. She just hoped that the gunshot did its job and that her father and

Tom were on their way to-

“Please, you have to help me!” the bloodied man that she’d somehow forgotten about

demanded as he grabbed hold of her wrists. Seconds later he made her pray for death as

pure dread and ice cold fear shot through her.

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“Calm the fuck down, lad!”

“Get the cuffs the fuck off me, Shayne!” Tristan snapped, gritting his teeth and slamming