Druid Knights 02: Knight of Rapture (22 page)

Her brow wrinkled in confusion. So she had gone that deep. “It’s amazing what you revert to.”

“What do you mean?” He took a seat next her, his eyes closed, his back against the tree.

“My father used to sing a healing chant to me when I was sick. It calmed me so I chanted it to Bill. When I did it calmed him, too. When I stopped he got restless. So I went deeper and kept on chanting.” She glanced at Arik from the corner of her eye. Her heart was pounding so loud she was surprised he didn’t hear it. Her eyes shifted past him to the damaged mill.

“I’m glad Alfred can’t see this.” She kept watch to record the moment he realized she’d remembered his miller’s name.

“Beka?” He turned and his warm breath brushed across her face, sending shivers across her back. She brushed his hair off his forehead.

“Yes?” She gazed into his eyes and hoped he saw she was there, all there.

“How—”

She couldn’t wait any longer. She covered his mouth with her lips, leaving her mouth burning as if on fire. Her emotions whirled and skidded.

He pulled away to look at her. There it was. The moment it registered with him. He captured her lips with fierce, hot possession. She burned hotter and hotter, hungering for him. His moan was her undoing. She was lost to an all-consuming rush of heat.

He held her tenderly while her body calmed. She was in his arms. That’s all that mattered.

“The chant. Of all the chants this one demands your full concentration. I wouldn’t fail Bill. The deeper I concentrated, the clearer my mind became.”

“You must be exhausted.” He drew her closer.

“I wanted to speak to you, to tell you. I was afraid if I slept…I wouldn’t remember.” She reveled in his warmth and wanted him closer. “I love you.” She stretched her neck and kissed him lightly. “At first I believed my dreams were just that, dreams, until I understood…you’re here. That’s when I refused to stop chanting even though Bill was asleep. If anything, I was more determined to keep it going. I needed to tell you I love you. I wanted to hold you and look at you one more time. Even if it was to say good-bye, I—”

“Shhh.” He kissed her forehead. “Rest. I’m here with you. I’ve come a long way to bring you home, so it’s not good-bye. It will never be that. If we have to, we’ll both sing the chant, every day. I have no intention of losing you again. Do you understand? I love you. I won’t let you go.”

“Arik.” With his arm around Rebeka, he turned to see George rushing toward them with something in his hand. “One of the students found this among the supplies.” A gasoline can, the letters
FM
stamped on the bottom, was in his hand. “Before you ask, we didn’t bring this here.” He held up the can and wiggled it. “We had no need for gasoline. I’m certain if we inventory the cans by the manor generator we’ll find one missing.”

Arik bit the inside of his cheek. “The mill room had a distinct odor. It wasn’t until I got Bill out that I recognized that the smell came from his clothes.” Yes, it was gasoline. There was no question that treachery was involved.

He held her close, not willing to let her go. He would’ve preferred to be alone with her, loving her, but now was not the time.

“I’ll take this to the fire chief. He’ll want to see it.” Arik nodded as George left to find the man. He glanced around the mill yard littered with the remnants of burned wood and roof tiles. Patches of grass still smoked. The door to the mill stood open as firemen came out with axes over their shoulders. All was in order here.

“I want to ask Bill some questions. He may be able to give us some information.” He and Rebeka picked their way through the debris and headed to the triage area.

They arrived at the emergency team’s station. Firefighters were loading their trucks. His bedraggled men were gathered around Cora, who was giving out coffee and water.

He passed among his men, spoke to each one, thanking them for their help and asking about their injuries. He laughed with some and comforted others. But with each conversation his anger grew until he was furious. He hadn’t seen this coming. He hadn’t protected them.

George and Cora met him and Rebeka by the stocky redheaded attendant who was bandaging the last causality. “If you’re trying to find Bill, he’s waiting by the ambulance. We took the bandages off his hands and expected to see severe third-degree burns.”

“You sound surprised.” Arik was confused. He knew what he had seen. Bill would be lucky to ever use his hand again.

“His hands are burned, but not that bad. They’re red and some areas are blistered. We downgraded the diagnosis to moderate second-degree burns.” He turned toward his last patient. “We’ll be taking you to the hospital as a precaution…”

The four of them left the medic and headed for the ambulance and found Bill. “You appear much better than you did the last time I saw you,” Arik said. Bill’s face brightened with a trace of a smile.

“How do you feel?” Rebeka asked.

“Lucky.” He held up two mittened hands. “I didn’t think I’d ever use my hands again. I’m glad I was wrong.”

“You have any idea how the fire started?” Arik squatted next to him. He needed to get answers while things were still fresh in Bill’s mind.

The other men gathered around them. Arik wasn’t surprised they wanted to listen. Everyone wanted to hear how the fire started.

“I headed to the mill after dinner to check that we had everything we needed for tomorrow. The plan was to lay the rest of the floor in the morning. Once we were done we were going to set the pit wheel and connect the mechanism. There were noises coming from the second floor. A day or two ago the noises turned out to be two of Dr. Tyler’s students, Marle and John, trying to find a private spot.” Bill shook his head and chuckled. “I must have scared them. I saw their bare backsides running into the woods—carrying their clothes. Tonight I heard voices. I suspected they were back. I decided to scare them good.

“I snuck up on them, jumped out and yelled. When they spun around I flashed my light in their eyes. I got a clear enough look to see it wasn’t Marle and John. It was two blokes I’d never seen before. That’s when I smelled the gasoline. One of them was still spraying it.” Arik caught a tight note of panic in Bill’s voice. “We fought and wound up on the ground level. I wanted to maneuver them away from the mill but when we got outside one of them got behind me and held my arms while the other one had a field day.” He stared at the ground, lines of concentration deepening along his brows. “All I could see were little ladders.” He picked up his head. “He had them tattooed up his arm.”

“Does that mean anything to you?” Arik asked Rebeka.

“No, not at all.” She turned to Bill. “How’d your hands get burned?”

“They must’ve heard something or someone coming. They dropped me and torched the mill. As soon as they left I tried to put out the fire.” Bill blew out a breath. “I knew it would take too long to get to the manor for help. The top floor was on fire.” The words rushed out of Bill like the water cascading down the flume. “I climbed up, pulled off my jacket and beat out the flames. I tried, I tried,” Bill rushed on, “to move the flume. It was the only thing I could think of to stop the fire.” Bill leaned forward and struggled to get up. All his men stood and listened.

“It was a good plan.” Arik helped him sit back. “You saved the mill.” The two men locked eyes. Arik knew that stare. It was the haunted expression of a man who’s been in battle and thinks he hasn’t done enough. “You saved the mill,” Arik repeated softly.

“I tugged on the flume,” Bill whispered, “but my hands hurt so much. I lost my balance. I grabbed on to the bricks and I found a niche for my feet and started to work my way down but my hands stopped working. The last thing I remember was falling into the pit.”

“It was a brave move, one not many would have made. You have my gratitude.” Arik scanned the sooty, scratched faces of the men around them. “You all have my gratitude.”

“Sir, I should be thanking you,” Bill said, a certain determination in his voice. “I stumbled into this. Frank told me you went into that inferno and carried me out.”

“As you would for me.” His response was low and even. The men around him nodded their agreement.

“We’re ready to take this man to hospital.” He turned to the attendant who spoke. Together they helped Bill onto a gurney.

“We’ll see you tomorrow,” Arik said. Jaxon came out from the crowd and stationed himself next to Bill.

“I’ll go with him.” Jaxon followed the gurney and jumped into the back of the ambulance.

With the fire out, the firefighters packed their gear and returned to their home base. The Fayne Manor men helped each other to their cars and headed toward the manor.

“How bad is the damage?” Arik glanced at the mill, the question directed at George. The man reeked of smoke. George’s bright white shirt was torn and black with soot. A lock of hair tumbled across his forehead and his eyes were red and irritated, all in contrast to his usually impeccable presence.

“The roof and all the wood on the upper level will have to be replaced. We were lucky the fire didn’t get to the bottom floors where we stored the gears. They weren’t touched. The waterwheel was damaged and we’ll have to bail out the pit.”

The major approached them and waited.

“Yes, Major?” Arik asked.

“Everyone is accounted for and has started back to the manor. I’ve put two men on watch here. I’ll have a report on the necessary repairs for you tomorrow.” The major saluted. Arik watched as the last of the men left the mill yard. There was a familiar spirit about the man who led his men and anticipated his needs—Marcus.

“Bill’s burns were much worse than what we just saw.” Arik returned his attention to George. The four of them started toward the waiting vehicles.

“I heard you chanting to him when I came by to see if you needed help.” Cora’s matter-of-fact expression softened and her voice trailed off into a whisper. She glanced at Rebeka. “You…you healed him.” They stopped at the edge of the yard.

“Yes.” Arik stood behind Rebeka. “I sang my father’s healing chant and helped Bill…” She peered up at him.

“And remembered my husband.”

Her words sent something right through him. The months of torment, the endless days and sleepless nights he researched and tried to find her. And when he finally found his way through time, the days and weeks he watched her and knew she didn’t remember him. They all became unimportant.

George broke the silence. “It should never have happened. I was responsible.” George’s distraught voice was low and thin. “I should never have let her go into the estate alone.” He saw the man’s pain and said nothing. George would have to find his own peace of mind. “I failed my responsibility.”

“You couldn’t stop me. I would’ve gone without you one way or another. But I do know that I couldn’t get away from Bran myself. You pulled me to safety. No, you didn’t fail me. You saved me.”

He was pleased with his wife’s response. Rebeka stepped in front of George. “And my family.” Rebeka glanced at Cora. “You both did. If it hadn’t been for you, I never would’ve found them and Arik wouldn’t be here. You must know that.”

“George worked hard to find you and fulfill Lady Emily’s request.” Cora glanced from Rebeka to her brother.

“It hasn’t gone unnoted.” He was grateful to George. “We still need your help. We can’t return until things are set right here. I don’t think we’ve heard the last of Bran and we’ve got to find the proclamation.”

“And don’t forget who did this.” Rebeka stood with her arms spread wide. She was right—there was more to resolve before they could return.

The crunch of gravel caught his attention as the major’s patrol passed. Streams of sun filtered through the trees and filled the mill yard. “We’ll meet back at the manor. Rebeka, ride with me.” He was already halfway to the Triumph.

He threw his leg over the motorbike’s seat as if he had been riding it for years and gave her the helmet. She slipped behind him as the engine rumbled into life. Her hands fanned out over his chest, her touch a familiar sensation. It was a sweet torture but at last he would have her to himself.

He followed the shortcut through the forest. The trees flashed by in a blur. The fallen leaves billowed up around them. With her body warm against his back and her arms holding tight around him he was content.

They came out of the forest and crossed the small field with a weeping willow. They passed through the tall pines and into Oak Meadow.

She tapped him on the shoulder. He came to a stop.

Before he killed the motor, she was off the bike and on her way toward the oak tree. His long strides had him by her side quickly.

The early morning April air warmed as the sun rose. The oak tree welcomed them. He could almost hear the tree sigh. She pulled him along until they stood under the oak branches and the canopy of leaves that sheltered them.

His rough hand cupped her cheek and held her face tenderly. His heart pounded as he lifted her chin and drank in the passion he saw in her eyes. At last, after months of searching and weeks of wanting, she was his.

“Hold me. Don’t let me go,” she said as she nuzzled his neck and sank into his strong embrace. “Love me,” she whispered in his ear and felt him shiver. She wanted to feel his arms around her, his lips touching hers—she wanted him to bury himself deep inside her and shout her passion to her world and to his.

They sank to the ground and held each other close. She was afraid to let him go, afraid the emptiness would find her, afraid of losing him, again. With an unending thirst, she focused on his mouth, the shape of his lips, the kisses that they promised.

His hand stroked the side of her body from her breast to her thigh, claiming it for himself. She stretched and molded her body to the contours of his, the way he liked. One stroke of her breast and she tugged on his shirt. He didn’t hesitate. He obliged her and pulled it off. Her hand played down the familiar hard planes of his chest. Her eyes widened when she saw the marks. His back and chest were covered with intricate symbols. How hadn’t she seen them before? “These weren’t here.” She traced them with her finger.

He stopped her hand and brought it to his lips. “For six months I tried to find you.” He tilted her face to his. She closed her eyes and felt the tingling traces of Dark Magick that thrummed around him.

She moved away, a concerned expression on her face. “What have you done?”

He pulled her back into his arms. “I did whatever was necessary. Now be still and let me hold you.” She settled against him.

“I’ve tried to remember holding you, feeling you before I love you, reliving every moment with you.”

She put her head on his shoulder. He opened her nightshirt and stroked the top of her chest then, with trembling hands, touched her breasts. A low moan escaped her lips. She tipped her face to see his eyes.

“Why are your eyes closed?” she asked.

“I’m seeing if you are as I remember.” He laughed softly.

“And?”

“Better,” he said as he bent and kissed each breast.

She pulled his head away and kissed him. He ignited a flame inside her that set her on fire. A delicious shudder pulsed through her.

The muscles on his chest danced as her fingers lightly traced the runes. “This rune is for the Great Mother.” Her finger poised over the sign. “Thank you, Great Mother,” she said as her lips brushed against his skin. She watched it deckle in gooseflesh. Her finger moved on. “This is our sign.” Encouraged by the hooded passion she saw in his eyes, she kissed the rune and moved on. The tips of her fingers traced down his chest. “Here it is again.” The rune was below his navel. Another kiss. Her fingers trailed down further.