Read Warrior of the Isles Online
Authors: Debbie Mazzuca
Warrior of the Isles (30 page)
He ran to her. “Syrena!”
She raised dazed eyes to his. Blood streamed from a deep gash on her forehead. “Bloody hell, I'm no' lettin' ye do this.”
“There's no other way.” She leaned against him, then using his arm to hang on to, she rose slowly to her feet.
“Wait,” he said, fighting the urge to drag her from the dais. He took her chin in his hand to examine her wound, gently dabbing the blood from her face with the edge of his tunic.
She took hold of his wrist to stop him. “Aidan, I have to do this now. Stay back.”
“Ye think I can just stand by and watch whileâ”
She pressed a trembling finger to his lips. “Please. I will heal, you won't. I can't worry about you and battle the magick at the same time.”
Everything inside him warred at the idea of releasing her. Never in his life had he done anything as difficult as letting her go. His chest tightened as he watched her square her slender shoulders and lift her sword. She turned and took a step toward the wood table where the leather-bound tome lay.
Within a foot of the Grimoire, she let out a pain-filled scream. Holding her head, she dropped to her knees.
“Syrena!” His heart wrenched in his chest and he lurched toward her.
“No!” She staggered to her feet. In a barely audible whisper she murmured words he could not make out then her voice grew stronger, more powerful. Gripping her sword with both hands, she raised it above her head. With lethal force she brought it down on the Grimoire. A blast of heat and flame threw Aidan off balance and he fought to remain upright.
Syrena stood within a cloud of black smoke. A disembodied voice filled the chapel, speaking words in an unknown language. The smoke along with the voice faded until all that was left was Syrena, standing before the ash-covered table with her head bowed.
Some of his panic eased. “Syrena?”
She turned slowly, a triumphant smile curving her bluetinged lips. His own faded as he took in the singed tendrils that framed her blackened and bloodied face. The muscles low in his belly knotted painfully at the sight of her blood-spattered tunic, the fabric melted into her arms. What he could see of her flesh was seared to a fiery red, bubbling with weeping sores.
“I did it,” she said, coming toward him.
“Aye, ye did.” Trying to conceal his alarm, he carefully folded her in his arms, afraid to hurt her any more than she already had been. “Ye're badly burned, angel. Let meâ”
As though she sensed his fear, she pulled back and touched his cheek. “I'll heal.” Her gaze scanned the chapel, and she gasped.
“Did I hurt ye?”
“No . . . no, it's Davina,” she said, looking in the direction of the altar.
Aidan turned. Naked, curled on her side with her hand clutched to her belly, Davina lay at the base of the altar chained to the stone. He released Syrena and strode from the dais to one of the men Connor held. Stripping the black robe from his bony white shoulders, he returned to Davina and draped it over her. Once he had her freed from the chains, she crawled into his arms and whimpered. He stroked her back, dreading the thought of telling her John Henry was dead.
He looked up to see Syrena watching him comfort Davina. “Callum, take her to Bess, but . . .”
Callum nodded. He understood what could not be said aloud. He would make no mention of John Henry. Aidan would tell her himself. He disentangled from Davina and came to his feet, taking in his brother as he did so. Lachlan twitched in his drug-induced stupor, grimacing in pain.
He went to his brother's side and bowed his head. Aidan felt the warmth of Syrena's hand on his back, offering him comfort. “What have I done, Syrena?”
“You are not responsible for this, Aidan.”
Aye, he was. He unlocked the chains that bound his brother. They fell away, clanging against the stone, but for each one Aidan released, another tightened around him. He would never be able to look at Lan again without seeing him like this, pale, emaciated, his flesh burnt, chunks of skin cut away, open sores raw and oozing. There was not an inch of his body unmarked. “How did he survive?”
“I know how bad it looks Aidan, but he will heal.”
“On the outside, mayhap, but what about here?” He brushed the long, thick waves of matted blond hair from his brother's face and touched his head. “Or here?” He placed a palm over the shallow drum of Lachlan's heart.
Her hand fell away from his back. “I don't know.”
“He will come to the Isles, where he belongs, where no Mortal shall ever harm him again,” a deep voice intoned.
Chapter 26
Aidan reached for his sword and Syrena put out a hand to stop him. “It's King Rohan, Aidan. He's my uncle. They come in peace,” she explained quietly, wishing somehow she could have put this moment off.
“My niece is right. Put your sword away, Mortal. I bring with me Uscias, the Wizard of the Enchanted Isles, Syrena's good friend Evangeline, and King Gabriel of England's Fae.” He gestured to each of them in turn.
“I'm Aidan MacLeod, Lachlan's brother.” Syrena waited for him to add “your niece's husband,” but he didn't and a chill settled over her. She glanced at him but he stood stiffly erect, his attention focused on her uncle.
King Gabriel said, “I owe you a debt of gratitude, Mortal. With the help of your men, we have released mine from the dungeons.”
Aidan nodded, keeping an eye on King Rohan, who stepped onto the platform and put a finger to Syrena's singed hair. “I see you retrieved your sword. The Grimoire?”
“Destroyed.”
“You did well, Syrena. For your part in helping both Fae and Mortal avoid what in all likelihood would have been a catastrophe of great magnitude, the charges brought against you have been dropped.”
“What the hell do ye mean by charges? Whyâ”
Syrena caught Aidan's eye and shook her head. “Thank you, Uncle.”
King Rohan's gaze swept over her, and he arched a brow. With a flick of his wrist, he clothed her in shimmering robes of gold, her crown of precious gems coming to rest on top of her head. “There, more befitting your station, don't you think?”
Aidan stared at her as though seeing her for the first time. She clenched her hands, her nails biting into her palms, and forced herself to hold his gaze. Lachlan awakened and struggled to sit up. Aidan abruptly turned away from her, a muscle in his jaw twitching. He rested his hand on his brother's chest and gently ordered him to remain still.
“Who are ye?” Lan rasped, his heavy-lidded gaze on Syrena's uncle.
“King Rohan, your uncle.” With another flick of his wrist, the black robe fell from Lachlan's broken body, to be replaced by robes the same as hers.
“You don't have much imagination when it comes to robes, Rohan.” King Gabriel chuckled before he addressed them, “I must take my leave. My men are anxious to be gone from this realm.”
“Gabriel is right. Let us leave here. The stench of evil lingers.” Her uncle went to lift Lan from the stone slab, but Aidan held up a hand. “What do ye think ye're doin'?”
Rohan arched a brow. “I was going to carry him outside.”
“I'll do it.”
“As you wish.”
Aidan gently lifted his brother into his arms, and Lan released an anguished moan. Her stomach lurched at Aidan's tortured wince. She took a step toward him but he gave an abrupt shake of his head, warning her off.
“Syrena.” Her uncle offered her his arm.
“If you don't mind, Uncle, my wounds are painful, I'll walk down on my own.” She stepped out of the way so Aidan could go down first.
“Can ye no' do anythin' fer her?” he grated out angrily.
“If it was in my power, Lord MacLeod, I would, but it is not. Do not worry, Syrena will heal quickly.”
“And my brother?”
“Will take time, I'm afraid.”
Aidan grunted then walked ahead of them.
“The Mortal cares for you, Syrena,” her uncle said.
“I thought he did,” she murmured, not certain how he felt about her now that he was faced with exactly who she was. She swallowed the knot of emotion, assuring herself that he just needed time.
“Is there something I should know about your relationship?”
She bowed her head. She couldn't keep her marriage from her uncle, not if she wanted to have a life with Aidan. “He's my husband.” She chanced a look at King Rohan to gauge his reaction. Noting the hard set of his mouth, she quickly added, “I love him.”
“I see,” he said as they stepped into the cool night air.
Evangeline came toward her with a blanket. “Here, your highness.” She glanced over to where Aidan stood in the center of his men with Lachlan in his arms. “It might be less painful for your brother if he lies down.”
“Thank you, Evangeline.” She took the blanket and walked over to Aidan who was speaking to Lachlan. The two men were deep in conversation and she hesitated, not wanting to interrupt them.
“I heard him. They want me to return to the Fae realm with them. Do ye wish me to go?”
“Nay, but I was almost too late this time. And I doona ken how many have learned of yer Fae bloodline,” Aidan answered Lachlan, keeping his voice low.
“I'll go. Mayhap if I do, ye can finally have the life ye wanted. No brother to protect. No brother to be ashamed of.”
“Nay, 'tis never been that way,”Aidan protested, and the pain Lachlan's words caused him was etched on his face.
She wanted to intervene, but knew instinctively her interference would do more harm than good. Instead she knelt down and spread the thick blanket on the ground. “Aidan, perhaps you should put Lachlan down.”
He nodded, but he didn't look at her. King Rohan motioned for everyone to stand back. Not knowing what to do, feeling like an outsider, she touched her brother's cheek then rose to her feet. She stepped away to give them some time alone together. She could only imagine how difficult it was for Aidan to let his brother go.
“Fer once be honest with yerself, Aidan. If it wasna fer me, ye'd be off with Iain, yer father would be alive, and so would Janet. Fer Christsakes, admit it. I canna do this anymore, pretend I'm someone' I'm no'. I'm half-Fae, and 'tis no' somethin' I had a say in. If our mother had no' been whorin' with a bloody faery, I wouldna exist, and I wouldna ruined yer life.” Lachlan twisted his body to look beyond Aidan, grimacing with pain, sweat dotting his brow. “Get me out of here!”
Syrena covered her mouth with her palm, fighting to contain an anguished sob. She wanted to comfort them both. She knew how much pain Lachlan was in, but could only imagine how hurtful his words were for Aidan to hear.
Aidan crouched beside him and reached for his hand. “Lan, no, doona go like this.”
Lachlan brushed his hand aside, and Aidan staggered to his feet. Syrena reached out to him, but he waved her off.
“Let me, princess,” Uscias said gently.
He went to Aidan and laid a hand on his arm. “I'll look after him, Lord MacLeod. Do not let his words wound you. It is the drugs, the abuse that he has suffered making him say such things, but time heals all. When you are ready to see him, come to the Callanish Stones.” He walked past Aidan and knelt beside Lan. Taking her brother's hand in his, they disappeared within a shower of twinkling lights.
Her uncle came to stand beside Syrena. He gave her shoulder a comforting squeeze before saying to Aidan, “Uscias is right, Lord MacLeod. Your brother will heal. And after what you've done this day, you will always be welcome in the Fae realm. Aidan, if I may call you, Aidan?”
Aidan scrubbed his hands over his face. “Aye.”
“There's something I feel you must know. Especially after the disparaging comments your brother made about your mother. She does not deserve his contempt, nor yours if you harbor any. It is my brother who must be held accountable, and I'm afraid that is no longer possible. What I'm trying to say is my brother Arwan used magick to enchant your mother. It is against Fae law, but that never stopped Arwan before. Your mother would not have been able to resistâ”
“He raped her?”
“Harsh, but yes.”
Aidan took an angry step toward Syrena and she swallowed a startled cry. Heartsick at the rage she saw in his eyes when he looked at her, she was afraid that in that moment he'd forgotten everything they'd meant to one another. His nostrils flared, and he lacerated her with the contempt in his cold gaze. “Ye kent this all along and ye kept it from me?”
“No. I mean . . . yes I knew, Aidan, but I didn't keep it from you intentionally. I had no idea how you felt about your mother. If I ever thoughtâ”
He balled his hands into fists, the muscles rippling in his arms as though he wanted to shake her. She almost wished he would. It would be less painful than the disgust she saw in his eyes.
“No idea! Yer father raped my mother! She bled to death hearing my father curse her! Died knowing she left a bairn no one wanted. A god-forsakenâ”
Her uncle grabbed him by the arm. “That will be enough, Lord MacLeod. You've had a shock. And since I'm aware how well you know my niece, I'm certain when you've had time to think about it, you will recognize she's innocent of any wrongdoing.”
Reeling from the ferocity of Aidan's attack, she barely noticed the high-pitched keening until Davina Hamilton burst through the stunned onlookers.
Throwing herself into Aidan's arms, she wailed, “John Henry's dead, Aidan. He's dead. What am I to do?”
Aidan held her. “It will be all right, Davina.”
“But the bairn,” she cried.
“Ye doona have to worry. I'll take care of everythin'.”
Evangeline came to stand beside Syrena. She took her hand in hers and squeezed. Syrena nodded. Her chest ached from holding back tears. She should've known; she had seen it in his eyes earlier when he'd been confronted with who she was. She'd hoped she'd been wrong, but she wasn't.
“If we're through here, I have much that requires my attention,” Aidan grated out.
“I can see that,” King Rohan observed, his deep voice tinged with sarcasm. “But there is one more matter which requires your attention here.”
Aidan narrowed his steely gaze on her uncle.
“No, Uncle, please don't,” she pleaded desperately, certain she was the matter to which he referred.
“Quiet,” Rohan ordered.
Aidan's mouth flattened. “What would that be?”
“The matter of your marriage to my niece. Iâ”
“It was a sham, nothing more.”
Her legs buckled and if not for Evangeline's arm around her waist, she would have crumpled at his feet in a devastated heap. She'd lost him.
“So be it. I will tell you, though, that I would've been hard pressed to allow the marriage. I have never approved of a union between Mortal and Fae. But if I did, I certainly would not allow my niece to wed a man foolish enough not to recognize the treasure he throws away. A man not able to get past his pride and his misconceptions to fight for a woman whose value is beyond compareâ”
“Uncle, please.” She begged in a tortured whisper. She couldn't stand by while everyone watched the man she loved with all her heart denounce her.
“Are ye finished?”
“Yes,” her uncle said then nodded when Evangeline leaned over to whisper in his ear. “Right. Thank you. Lord MacLeod, considering what has gone on this night, Evangeline has offered to wipe the minds of all those here.” Noting Aidan's distrustful expression, her uncle added, “It is neither painful nor harmful, and is in some cases a benefit to a person suffering guilt or emotional distress. The one somewhat annoying side effect is that the person can lose several years of memories.”
“I accept the offer. Thank ye,” Aidan said to Evangeline, his gaze skipping past Syrena. “There are several people I will leave to make the decision on their own. But as to the rest, I'd ask ye to remove their memories of this night.”
“Would that include yourself, Lord MacLeod?” her uncle asked, his tone silky.
“I'll have my memories wiped, if possible, the last two years.” Aidan looked directly at Syrena when he said the words that shattered her heart. A muscle pulsated in his jaw, and he held her gaze, searching her face as though to memorize it, then he said, “Good-bye.”
He turned and walked away, Davina clinging to his arm.
“I'm sorry, Syrena,” her uncle said quietly.
She nodded. She couldn't speak. Her throat hurt too much from swallowing her sorrow.
Samuel and Bess wove their way through the crowd of curious onlookers to come to her. The older woman took her hand in hers. “I'm sorry, my lady, I doona ken what else to say. Samuel and I just wanted to tell ye we wouldna be havin' our memories wiped. They're too precious to lose. And . . . and we won't forget ye, we doona wish to.” They hugged her then walked away.
Syrena hadn't said a word. Her tears were too close to the surface. And if she started to cry, she didn't think she would ever stop.
Callum came over and awkwardly patted her back. “I never thought Laird Aidan a fool until this night. Ye take care, my lady. Doona ferget yer promise to wee Alex and Jamie. They'll be expectin' a visit from ye, as will we all.”
Other books
The Vanishing Game by Myers, Kate Kae
The Blue Mountains of Kabuta by Hilary Wilde
Ghosting by Jennie Erdal
The Seven Sisters by Margaret Drabble
Confession at Maddleskirk Abbey by Nicholas Rhea
Flannery O'Connor Complete Short Stories by Flannery O'Connor
Wayward Dreams by Gail McFarland
Keepers by Gary A. Braunbeck
Dual Desires by Shyla Colt
