Deceiver's Bond: Book Two of A Clairvoyant's Complicated Life (49 page)

BOOK: Deceiver's Bond: Book Two of A Clairvoyant's Complicated Life
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Eyes wide, I gasped. “That’s why you don’t want the demons invading Earth. It’s not just because you enjoy coming here for the scenery. They’ll deplete Earth’s magic, leaving none for the Otherworld.”

“Yes. But even before that happens, Azazel will destroy all of the sidhe’s portals. Now that most of the emissaries have been eliminated, its next move will be to eradicate the half-blood guardians. After that, nothing will stand in my master’s way, unless you act to prevent it.”

I stared at him, mouth agape, and then sputtered, “Who? Me? Are you kidding? And just what the hell do you think I’m going to do about it? I don’t know the first thing about fighting demons. They’ll squash me like a bug.”

“They will try, but you have the power to do something Azazel and its minions cannot. You can move unhindered between worlds and—” He snapped his mouth shut and studied me as though he’d just discovered he was speaking to a Neanderthal. “Has it not occurred to you that you can move objects as well, not just your lover?”

I made a face to tell him what I thought of his tone. “Well,
duh
. I had my purse, and Kieran and I were wearing clothes at the time. I didn’t leave those behind.”
Because that would have been awkward.

“I’m sure he was grateful,” Tíereachán replied acerbically. “But perhaps more pertinent is the fact that, although it’s a magical construct, a portal is also an object. It can be moved and manipulated by one who has the power to do so.”

“So … what are you saying? If I can find the demon’s gateway, I can … what? Move it over a boiling pit of lava? Stick it in the Between? Flush it down the toilet?”

He cracked a smile. “Closing it altogether might be a better strategy. A portal adept can also repair a gateway or create new ones.”

“That’s why you want me to go to your mother. You think she can teach me to do those things.” I realized, at some point during our conversation, I’d gone from dubious consideration to believing him.

“Yes.”

“But first I need to get to the Otherworld.”

“Yes.”

I frowned and bit my lip. “I … I just don’t see how I can possibly do that on my own. I don’t speak Silven. I wouldn’t have the first clue where to go. And then there’s the whole matter of getting to the Otherworld in the first place. Tomorrow, we’re going to deal with the Invisius telepaths, so I guess it’s possible we could get our hands on another draíocloch.” I looked at him warily. “Could … Kieran take me?”

“No!” he barked, glaring as though he’d like to throttle me. “By the Oracle’s right eye, will you not heed me? Kieran serves Maeve and the King. He is using you! Even if by some miracle he wished to accompany you, his past deeds will not have been forgotten.”

“Look, I know he’s got this dark secret, this dishonorable thing he did. But I also know he regrets it, deeply. And he’s not as devoted to Maeve and the King as you seem to think. Maeve declared Kieran outcast for refusing to follow her order to take me for his mate. She’s sent her second, a warrior named Lorcán, to claim me. Kieran has sworn to keep me safe, even if it means killing him.”

He narrowed his eyes dubiously. “He explicitly pledged his oath in this?”

I blinked. “I, uh … you mean those very words, like some medieval knight?” I shook my head. “He didn’t get all formal about it. But he did promise that he’d not allow Lorcán or anyone else to take me by coercion. He was … you could say he was very forceful about it. And he’s told me, more than once, that he’ll not allow Lorcán to harm me. That’s why he glamoured me. I asked him to do it. I wanted to prepare for dealing with Lorcán. I wanted to know if I could resist it. And with your help, I can.”

Tíereachán rubbed his hand over his jaw and paced the patio, in front of me. “He may not be outright lying, but I don’t believe for one moment that Kieran is without an ulterior motive in all this.”

He folded his arms and stopped to scrutinize me. “He’s made no attempt to sway you into bonding with him?”

“No. At every turn, he’s argued against it. Kim, the King’s last emissary, and her mate Brassal have been the ones pressing for it. Kieran’s made it clear he’s interested in me, but he doesn’t want me bonding with him just because it would make it easier to deal with Lorcán.”

Tíereachán’s jaw muscles twitched as though his unspoken words were jostling for position. Finally, he said, “If Kieran begins pressing his advances, be sure to ask him about his prior mate, Nuala. Ask him why he so vigorously pursued her, even though she was far beneath his rank. When he answers those questions, with no evasions, you will understand my concern. Until then … please,
Lire
, be on your guard.”

Somehow, it was his deliberate use of my name, instead of an annoying endearment, that sent a shiver of alarm down my spine.

He forced out an angry breath and let his arms fall to his sides, hands clenched. “If only I could be there to help you. I could escort you to my mother and—” He pressed his mouth closed and shook his head. There was no point in finishing the thought.

It hurt to see the longing that overtook his expression. He’d always appeared so cocky and self-assured. Without thinking, I grasped his hand. “It’s not fair. Maeve is the one who should be punished, not you.” I thought of Vince being bound to her for life and my voice cracked. “She’s taken so much.”

I searched his lovely eyes as if they held the answers to all of our problems. “If only there was a way for you two to trade places. Life would be so much better.”

His melancholy smile was the last thing I saw before I awoke to the darkness of my bedroom. With the solid weight of emotion pressing heavily on my chest, I pulled in a great, quaking breath and immediately realized two things. My cheeks were wet with tears and Kieran was awake.

His body spooned me from behind, his right arm draped over my waist. He pressed the flat of his hand against my stomach and pulled me tight against the curve of his body. He kissed my temple. “Bìdteine.” His concerned voice rumbled next to my ear, coarse from sleep. “My love … you’re crying? What’s wrong?”

I rolled over and burrowed my way against his chest, hooking my left leg over his thighs and holding him close. “It’s … Maeve,” I hitched out and forced my face into the crook of his neck, my tears wetting his skin. “She … betrayed … him.”

He shushed me, stroking my back. “Who? Vince?”

I shook my head against him and sniffled. “No. Tíereachán. She betrayed … Tíereachán.” I choked back a sob at uttering his name, at the memory of his yearning expression. “Kier … it’s not fair. What happened to him—it’s not right. We have to find a way to help him.”

At the mention of Tíereachán’s name, Kieran went ominously still. His hand froze on the back of my head, mid-stroke. “Where did you learn that name? From the demon?”

I wiped at my cheeks and calmed myself. “Not a demon—
Tíereachán
. He was enslaved by Azazel. Maeve tricked him … tricked him into trading his soul in return for her safety. Tíer … he … he tried to save her. But she was in league with it. Kieran, Maeve’s in league with Azazel!”

He shushed me and resumed his gentle petting. “Love, this is a demon telling you this. It’s lying to you. You can’t possibly believe a Princess of the sidhe would sink to such impossible—”

I jerked out of his embrace and scrabbled to a sitting position. My body trembled both from the sudden chill against my skin and the emotions that bubbled inside of me. “You don’t understand. Back when I first encountered him, we touched. It’s how I learned his true name.”

“Then it deceived you,” he replied, also sitting up.

“No. I touched his soul.”

“Trickery,” he scoffed. “Such a thing is impossible without binding.”

“That would be true enough, on Earth. But we weren’t on Earth. Our essences met, in the Between. I took his measure, Kieran. Trickery wasn’t possible.”

Even in the dark, I could see his gaping mouth. “This whole time, you believed him to be the Amhaín’s only son and yet you withheld this?” His harsh tone bit through the air.

“No. Calm down. Until now, his past had been hidden from him. I only knew his true name. You never mentioned the Amhaín’s son, so how was I supposed to know? The only thing I knew was that there was something … I don’t know … something that just didn’t jive, but I didn’t know why. Back when I touched him in the Between, I sensed his longing for Earth. At the time, I figured he harbored a secret wish to be human. But I was wrong. He doesn’t want to be human. Yes, he wants to visit Earth, but what he wants most is to go back home, to the Otherworld. He wants to be sidhe again.”

“A sidhe! Lire … consider the source. Even if—”

“He’s never lied to me, Kieran. Not once.” I stressed the words.

He skated his hand over his jaw. The sound of his stubble rasping against his palm echoed around me.

I continued to press, desperate for him to believe me. “He said Azazel is about to set its plans into motion. It knows I’ll play a key role in how the future unfolds. Tíereachán wants me to go to his mother—to the Amhaín. He says she’ll teach me what I need to know in order to become an adept.”

“Of course that’s what it wants!” he exploded. “It plays you right into the demon’s hand! Destabilize the Otherworld. Further disrupt the balance of power.”

“No—to fight the demon invasion. There’s more going on than just sidhe politics. But,
whatever
. If not the Amhaín, then … what is it you think I should do instead?” I asked, exasperated. “Stay here and wait for one of the King’s loyalists to finally abduct me? Maybe even kill you in the process. Yeah, that sounds
loads
better.”

“I am quite skilled,” he said, voice tight. “No one is going to kill me.”

“You got that right,” I growled.

He snorted, clearly pleased by my ferocity and what that implied. After a momentary pause, he reached out to snag my arm. His voice gentled. “Bìdteine, come here.”

He tugged me toward him and enveloped me in his protective embrace. He kissed me tenderly and caressed my back, soothing me until I relaxed against him, and then he nestled us under the covers. “Sleep now, love. We’ll talk about this tomorrow.” He continued to stroke my skin, feathery touches that comforted me. “Don’t worry. The truth will come to light. If this creature truly is Tíereachán, I assure you, I’ll not allow my cousin to continue suffering. We’ll find a way to help him.”

I took a deep breath, nodded, and then allowed him to roll me over so he could spoon me again. At the moment, there was nothing more I could do. And, unless Kieran suddenly executed an about-face and started pushing for us to bond, there was no sense obsessing over Tíereachán’s ominous warning about Kieran’s motives.

I thought sleep would evade me, but it didn’t. The comfort of Kieran’s hand pressed possessively against my stomach and the warmth of his solid chest at my back lulled me to sleep in just minutes.

 

That morning, Kieran and I lingered together in my shower for a long time. The anticipation of dealing with the telepaths weighed on me. I couldn’t stop thinking that every touch, every tender kiss, had the potential to be our last. I set about to savor each moment, to commit every breathless sigh and gasp of pleasure to memory. All my kisses felt desperate. I clung to him under the hot spray, reluctant to pry myself away but knowing at some point we had to move on to other things.

Kieran took my head between the palms of his hands and stared into my eyes. “I’ll not allow anything to happen to you. You have my word.”

I wasn’t worried about myself, but I couldn’t open my mouth to tell him, for fear of bursting into tears. Why the hell was I so maudlin?
Ohh.
I did the mental calculation. Just five or six days before that time of the month came around. That explained it. Even those saccharine eHarmony commercials left me soggy-eyed the week before. Certainly, the previous night’s revelations hadn’t helped my already troubled mindset. I sighed. It wasn’t as though I didn’t have enough to worry about.

We still had no idea whether Brassal had succeeded in his political endeavors. Even if Kieran received a pardon, I doubted Lorcán would simply turn around and go back home. No doubt Maeve had planned for this type of contingency and given Lorcán orders to do whatever he could to provoke Kieran. Or worse.

I was definitely having a glass-half-empty kind of morning.

Saying nothing, I hugged Kieran one last time before shutting off the water and leaving the warmth of the shower to get ready. Fifteen minutes later, hair dried and skin moisturized, I stood in the middle of my walk-in closet.

With no fashion manual covering what a girl should wear to a showdown with evil-doing telepaths, I decided freedom of movement and dark colors were the way to go. I shimmied into my stretchiest skinny jeans and favorite long-sleeved yoga tunic. Backpack in hand, I forced myself to trudge downstairs.

I knew I should eat something, but my stomach lurched at the thought. Instead, I transferred my purse’s contents—wallet, keys, cell phone, tiny flashlight, extra gloves, and the depleted draíocloch—to my nylon backpack’s roomy interior. The fact that I added my first-aid kit to the mix probably said a lot about my state of mind.

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