BlackWind (17 page)

Bronwyn groaned. Though the tale was nothing more than an old talespinner's yarn, a legend from a time when faeries and banshees and the Green Man held sway over the Celtic people, the thought of any creature—mythical or otherwise—suffering so touched Bronwyn's heart.

She cried for the Bugul Noz's loneliness. She cried for her own heartbreaking aloneness, and she cried for Sean and the solitude he, too, had been forced to endure because of her parent's narrow-minded, bigoted beliefs.

She pressed her face into the starched stiffness of her pillow and screamed as loudly as she dared. Not because she was afraid of the bogeyman who had visited her in the dream. Not because of the hopelessness that was hers from sunup to sundown.

It was for the years of such wretchedness she knew would be hers to bear.

The ages-old Nightwind stirred, snatched from his centuries-long slumber by the Call of one more powerful than he. He listened, frowning at the intrusion. His name on the tongue of He Who Calls was a long, low wail of command as it wove its way to him once more.

Sighing with impatience and bone-deep weariness, he lifted himself from the warm nest he had made from driftwood and petrified-forest branches and floated in the darkness of his lair. The smell of sulfur drifted under his nostrils and he inhaled the aroma as a connoisseur of fine wine will smell a cork. He opened his eyes and surveyed the barren cave he called home.

The rough, thick walls dripped with noxious fumes he found comforting to the senses. No light made its way this deep into the cavern system, but no light was needed. His nocturnal vision was as sharp as ever.

Once again, He Who Calls made bid for his attention. The awakened sleeper growled with annoyance. As he did, the air within his lair—as chill as the deepest reaches of the megaverse—became laced with a heavy blanket of fog. The mist surrounding him took on a pinkish cast from the crimson glow of his angry eyes.

With one last snort of disgust, he levitated up to the ceiling and passed through. His corporeal body transformed to pure energy as he sped into the ebon limitedness of space. Like a shooting star, he sped through time and millennia, weaving his way to He Who Calls. Though his black heart was not in the summons, his blood began to stir.

Sean hurried behind the guard the next afternoon, eager to talk to Brian O'Shea. He had not slept, and was bleary-eyed and tired, a brutal headache making him wince at loud sounds. He thought the headache might well be because he hadn't eaten much since his incarceration. His jailers had laughed at his request to have vegetarian meals, and it seemed the vegetable servings were smaller than they should be and the meat portions larger. As a result, he had lost ten pounds.

But the headache might have come from the odious stench that had nearly suffocated him. Yet when he had asked his fellow inmates if they smelled the ghastly odor, no one seemed to know what he was talking about. They looked at him as though he had lost his mind.

Realizing he had been alone in his perception of the being, Sean decided to say no more about the nocturnal stench.

Opening the door for him, the guard stepped aside. Sean entered the visitor's room.

Brian was seated at the table, a Styrofoam container in front of him. “Hello, son,” he said with a smile.

Sean took Brian's proffered hand. He could not seem to think of the man as his father and wondered why.

“It's all new to you,” Brian said with a laugh. “You'll get used to it in time.”

Sean sniffed. “You brought food?” He spied a paper bag on the table.

“I went by Mama Vivian's. I heard the food there was decent.”

Sean straddled his chair and sat, reaching eagerly for the container. When he opened it, his eyes widened. Fried okra, Crowder peas with boiled okra, rutabaga, fried eggplant, and fried summer squash—all the vegetables he loved. He looked up. “Thank you,” he said, his voice breaking.

“Eat.” Brian reaching into his pocket for a plastic fork and extended it to Sean. “Enjoy it, although for the life of me I don't see how anyone could! Give me a rare steak and a hunk of bread any day and I'm content.”

Sean dove into the food with relish, eating as though he were starving. When he looked up and saw Brian's ugly frown, he stopped eating, the fork halfway to his mouth. “What's the matter?”

“Gobshites have been starving you, haven't they?”

Sean shrugged, forking the rutabaga into his mouth. “They just won't cater to someone who doesn't eat meat.”

Brian's jaw clenched. “You've only another day or two here and you can eat what you damned well please!”

Sean sighed as he chewed. “I miss Ma's cooking.”

“I drove up to see her this morning.”

Sean blinked. “They
let
you see her?”

Brian arched a thick brow. “You think they could have stopped me, lad?”

Grinning, Sean shook his head. “I guess not, if you had your mind set on it.” He ladled some peas into his mouth. “How is she?”

“As well as can be expected. I told her I would be seeing to you from here on out.”

Astonished, Sean lowered his fork. “Seeing to me in what way?”

Brian put his elbows on the table and threaded his fingers together. “I told her I'd be taking you back with me to Fuilghaoth.”

A shiver ran down Sean's spine. “Ireland?”

“Aye, lad. To Ireland.”

Sean swallowed. “My lady is there, Brian.”

“And I know you won't be able to get to her no matter how hard you try.”

“Don't underestimate me.”

“Don't go looking for trouble until its time to meet it head on, then,” Brian countered.

“What does that mean?”

Brian drew in a long breath. “You'd best let me finish my tale before you decide if you'll be going after that little gal in Belfast.”

Sean put his fork in the container and closed the lid.

“Why aren't you finishing your food, lad?”

“Let's get something clear between us,” Sean said, pushing aside the container.

Brian folded his arms over his chest. “What is it you feel we should be clear about?”

Sean locked gazes with him. “Bronwyn,” he said, his tone hard and unyielding, “is my bondmate. I—”

“I am aware of that. I'd have it otherwise, but that wasn't my choice to make.”

“No, it sure as hell wasn't!”

“Lad,” Brian said in a warning tone, “don't read meanings into my words that aren't there. There is a good reason I said what I said.”

“I intend to marry Bronwyn McGregor.”

“That may or may not happen. Only time will tell. But for now, she's as far out of your reach as are the stars.”

“That may be true for
now
, but they can't keep us apart forever. She is my lifemate.”

“Again, I am aware that she is, and I am also aware that she will be the only one for you for as long as you live.”

“Don't patronize me!” Sean snapped.

“I wasn't! I know you took her that night up at the creek. I'd venture to say her parents will learn of it soon enough. That will make them all the more determined to keep you away from her.”

Sean threw out an angry hand. “She won't tell them. We will be together. No one will stop that from happening.”

Brian sighed. “Would you be so anxious to be with her if you knew you would be putting her in grave danger?”

“From what?” Sean scoffed.

“From you.”

“I would
never
hurt her!”

“Not intentionally, no. But you don't know all there is to know about you, yet, do you? About your heritage and genetic makeup.”

“I—” Sean stopped. His eyes widened. “Are you trying to tell me Dunne put one of those things inside
you
?”

A slow nod was Brian's reply.

Pure terror drew its sharp nails down Sean's spine. He stared at the man, his heart suddenly pounding. “Before or after you got my ma pregnant?”

Brian stood and walked to the mesh-covered window. He turned his back and looked into the parking lot. “Before, though I didn't know the deed had been done until after they sent your mother away.” He glanced around. “And what is in me is also in you. The spores of the parasite are passed through the sperm.”

Horrified, appalled, Sean couldn't speak. His chest felt as though a ton of weight pressed against it, and he felt cold, colder than he had ever been.

“Your ability to read minds, your quickness, your strength, all of it comes from the parasite.” Brian turned back to the window. “I haven't tried to read your thoughts about your night with the McGregor girl, but I hope and pray you used protection.”

Sean's breath caught in his throat. “What if we didn't?” he asked, his question barely above a whisper.

“Then you had best hope your seed didn't take within her. If it did, pray the seed was a girl child, because the spore would kill that before an embryo could form.” He chuckled mirthlessly and faced Sean. “The revenant worm wants only male offspring.”

Sean stared at his father, watching the man's eyes narrow and a crease form in his forehead.

“Ah, Seannie,” Brian sighed. “This is not good.”

Sean buried his face in his hands. “What have I done?”

“That was a grave mistake.”

“I didn't know.”

“This is why you might want to think twice about the girl you've chosen as your mate,” Brian said gently.

Sean shook his head. “Bronnie couldn't have gotten pregnant.”

“Let's hope she didn't, lad. Had I known what Dunne did to me, I would never have laid a hand on Dorrie.”

“How did they implant you without you knowing?”

“As best I can figure, someone slipped something into my food or drink one night at supper. All I remember was waking up one morning feeling like I'd been run over by a lorry. My back hurt so bad I could barely climb out of bed. I stumbled into the bathroom, gagging and heaving like a man coming off a three-day drunk, but all I had was dry heaves and a terrible thirst water couldn't satisfy. There is a reason why that was, but I'll go into that later.

“When I glanced into the mirror, I looked somehow different. Oh, no physical changes, but I just didn't look like the man I'd been shaving for all them years. My back was paining me so badly I turned around, tried to see it in the mirror, but it didn't look any different. No cuts, no bruising, no welts or the like. I just thought maybe I'd slept crooked and pulled a muscle or two.

“I took my shower, then decided I'd do a few laps in the pool, hoping to work the kinks outta my back. I swam every morning, never missed a day, and I was looking forward to relaxing for thirty minutes or so before I had to report in to work.”

Brian shuddered, then flexed his shoulders, as if to throw off a feeling that had overtaken him.

“When I got down to the gym and got a whiff of the chlorine in the pool, I started getting this strange feeling. It was a dread unlike anything I'd ever felt before, like something bad was about to happen. The closer I got to the water, the worse the feeling got.”

His words trailed off as he stared at the table. Sean said nothing, giving his father time to gather his thoughts. After a moment, Brian shook himself and looked up. Misery filled his eyes.

“I could not make myself get close to the water. The more I tried, the more intense the feeling of dread grew. I stood shivering, wondering if I had suddenly developed an aversion to water. I knew that was possible, but having grown up on the seacoast, living my life like a porpoise in the waters of Galway Bay, I couldn't fathom not being able to jump into the pool.” He sighed. “I finally left, not understanding my fear at all.”

“Did you talk about it with anyone?”

“I was too ashamed of my weakness to make anyone privy to it. I just kept going back, trying to enter the water, but every time, the same terror overcame me. By then, I had seen your mother, and my obsession with her replaced any thoughts of the pool.”

“How did you find out what they'd done to you?”

A mirthless laugh hissed from Brian's tightly clamped lips. “On the day I transitioned for the first time.”

“T—transitioned?” Sean muttered, his voice trembling.

“Changed. Into a semblance—although not as drastic—of the creature they found in the bog.”

“I don't believe that.”

“Believe it. It happened, and
will
happen again.”

“How is it possible? It's against the laws of nature!”

“Nature as you know it, aye, but not the place that creature came from. I won't candy-coat it, son. The first time scared me something fierce. I didn't know what was happening. No one told me I was going to become like the bog man, and if they had, I'm not sure I would have believed them. You see, I didn't know Dunne had decided to implant humans with the parasite, and sure as hell didn't know I'd be the one receiving it.”

“Oh, my God. What did you do when you...when you...” He could not say the words.

“When your ma was taken from me, I went a bit crazy and tried to leave Fuilghaoth. I wanted to stop her marriage to Cullen, to get her back. They locked me up in one of the containment cells, and it was while I was so furious that the full Transition began. I'm sure Dunne knew it might happen and that was why I was caged. As soon as the godawful pain began in my back, I knew what they had done to me. I nearly went mad with the thought of that evil inside me. The terrible thirst water couldn't quench was satisfied by the beakers of blood passed through a small door into the cell. I guzzled the stuff like it was nectar!”

Sean covered his mouth with his hand.

“When I reverted back to being human, Dunne sent for me. He was curious to know what I had felt during the Transition.” Brian ground his teeth. “I'd never wanted to kill anyone as much as I wanted to kill him that day. I demanded to know why he'd done this terrible thing to me.”

“What did he say?”

Brian flung out a dismissive hand. “He said names were drawn and mine was the first. On the luck of a draw, I was the lucky recipient of the revenant worm. How, he asked me, was he to know I'd impregnated a village girl with my tainted sperm? As soon as he said that, I knew I'd fallen right into his plan. He knew, Sean. He
knew
what Dorrie and I had been doing and he knew I'd more than likely get her with child. He could have put a stop to it, but didn't. It was the impregnation that fascinated him. He wanted to see what would happen to the babe when it was born. He knew I'd created another like myself.”