“You didn’t have to tell them that!” Treena jabbed Brigid in the ribs. “I volunteer for clean-up duty,” she said. “What about you Quillon?”
“Sandwiches and omelettes are my only specialties.”
“That figures,” Treena grinned. “Sounds like we’re covered.”
Quillon eased the van into a long driveway. The van lights swept over a graciously proportioned brick house with a wide veranda. A second story balcony was supported by round columns. The tired travelers had reached their destination.
“As a precaution, keep the conversation general until we’ve swept the house,” said Quillon. “It should be safe, but I don’t want to take any risks.”
He switched off the van and they tumbled outside, their legs cramped from the long drive.
“Welcome to Greensburg and my home,” said Quillon as he inserted a key into a heavy oak door and then pressed a keypad beside it. The door swung open into a wide foyer; a vibrant floral arrangement perfumed the air from its placement on a mirrored side table.
“Point me to my room,” Treena groaned. “I’m beat.”
Brigid decided she would explore the house in the morning. She too wanted nothing more than to lie down. Quillon suggested they grab their bags because he intended to park the van in the garage later. He briskly led them up a curved stairwell to the second floor.
There were more than enough rooms for everyone. Symba claimed her usual one and the others quickly chose theirs. As they brought their gear inside, Symba and Quillon did a sweep of each room. All agreed they’d like to sleep in late after their journey. Brigid closed her door and was walking toward her en suite bathroom when she heard a firm knock. She turned around wearily.
“Come in,” she said.
Evander entered and strode across the room to her. He swept her into his arms for a gentle but passionate kiss. He leaned his forehead against hers. “Sleep well,” he whispered, and then he slipped away.
Brigid staggered to the bathroom, and then collapsed into her bed, falling asleep immediately. Her dreams were inhabited by a tall, dark, sexy man whose caresses sent sparks flying between them.
***
Light gently filtered into the room when Brigid awoke. She stretched in the warm cocoon of her bed. The mattress was firm but molded around the contours of her body. Her stiffness from the night before was gone. There are some advantages to the technologies of the Human Earth, Brigid thought. She stretched again, then bee-lined for the bathroom. Looking in the mirror as she washed up, she decided the tired bags under her eyes weren’t too noticeable.
A light tap sounded on her door, and Treena stuck her head in.
Brigid stepped out of the bathroom and beckoned her in. “I wondered who else might be up,” she said.
“The others are down in the kitchen. I just finished my routine and thought I’d see if you were moving yet,” said Treena.
“I’m the last one up? They must think I’m a lazybones!” said Brigid, as she rushed to her pack to dig out clothing.
“Relax,” said Treena as she plopped into a chair. “They’re just getting food started. We all crawled out within the last half hour.”
Brigid felt somewhat better. She slowed her motions slightly as she continued to get dressed.
“Soooo,” Treena drawled, “how did your evening go?”
The heat rose in Brigid’s cheeks as she replied. “The dress was as effective as you thought it might be. My final dance with Quillon pushed Evander’s buttons even more.” Brigid paused as she stepped into the bathroom to brush her hair.
Treena stepped over to lean against the doorjamb. “Don’t stop there,” she said. “Details, Brigid. Details!”
Brigid’s eyes met Treena’s in the mirror and she smiled wickedly. “It was like nothing I’ve felt before.” She described the fiery sparks and their conversation.
“Not rush it,” exclaimed Treena. “The man wants to go slowly? We could die tomorrow. What’s he thinking?” Treena stomped back to her chair.
Brigid followed her back into the bedroom. “I appreciate his cautiousness when I feel the power of what stirs when we’re together. We’ve also got to be sure our attraction doesn’t get in the way of our mission.”
“That’s fair,” Treena sighed understandingly.
Brigid sat on the side of the bed.
“I’m scared,” she said. “You know my history with relationships. Other than my brief fling during our Dunrovin trip, I haven’t been intimate with anyone else. Dates usually feel like another healing session where I pick up on their emotions and try to make them feel better about themselves—like with Jackson, who just wasn’t worth it.”
“I don’t think Evander’s looking for you to stroke his ego,” said Treena, grinning. “He seems a fairly confident and well-balanced person.”
“Exactly—which is why it feels like he’s trying to be respectful of what’s emerging between us. It’s not just physical.” Brigid’s restless fingers worked to weave her hair into a braid.
Treena nodded her head. “I believe a little physical release never hurts,” she said. “But you have to play this in the way that’s right for you. Come on, let’s go for breakfast. I’m starving.”
“Thanks for the support,” said Brigid. She linked her arm in Treena’s as they headed to the door. “Speaking of physical release, what about you and Symba?”
Surprisingly, a faint blush stained Treena’s cheeks. “Nothing there to talk about,” said Treena and she quickly changed the subject.
Brigid deferred to her friend’s desire to leave that topic alone. As they climbed down the stairs, Treena described some of the features of Quillon’s house. There was something called an entertainment center and an exercise room where Treena had done her practice routine.
Brigid could smell the aroma of bacon wafting toward them from the kitchen and she realized she was ravenous too. She wondered if it would be as tasty as the meat she cured for herself back home.
Quillon was at the stove scrambling eggs. Evander was standing at a center counter, opening a machine and spooning batter into it.
Symba was setting a table in a turreted area with windows looking onto a back yard. She looked up as they entered. “Good morning. Did you sleep well?”
“Wonderfully,” replied Brigid. “The bed was so comfortable, I couldn’t bring myself to leave it. What’s the mattress made from?”
“A memory foam material that forms around your body and prevents any pressure points. It’s one of the many products Quillon’s dad has developed and been successful with. He’s a business tycoon and travels all over the world.” Symba grinned and placed the last plate on the table. “Don’t worry about sleeping in. It means we can leave you two clean up.”
Brigid leaned over to observe Evander. “What are you making?”
“Symba showed me how to use this machine called a waffle maker. It’s great. I just spoon the batter in, close the cover and, in a short time, it dings to let me know it’s cooked.” He opened a warming oven in front of him. Inside were golden waffles and a tray of bacon ready to be served.
“Looks delicious,” said Brigid as she licked her lips in anticipation.
Evander’s gaze fastened on her lips. The waffle maker beeped. Evander didn’t move. It continued to sound.
Brigid reached around him to open the cover. “Mmm, I can’t wait to taste one,” she said while smiling at Evander and discreetly squeezing his hand. “Is there anything I can do?” she asked.
Evander shifted into action and lifted the waffle out to place it in the warming oven.
“We’re just about ready,” said Quillon. “Could you take the coffee and tea urns to the table? They’re on the side counter, over there.”
Brigid gathered them up.
Symba joined her with the milk, cream, and sugar. “Enjoying yourself?” she whispered to Brigid with a grin.
Obviously, Treena wasn’t the only who had noticed the attraction between Brigid and Evander.
Brigid poured a cup of coffee for herself and answered honestly, “Yes, I am.”
“Good,” Symba replied. “It’s important to have joy to balance the darkness we face.”
Brigid sensed there was more to Symba than the lighthearted person she presented herself to be. Before anything more was said, the men joined them, bringing the platters of food. Everyone dug in.
“Quillon, what I’ve seen of your home so far is absolutely beautiful,” said Brigid.
“Wait until you see the gardens out back,” said Symba as she poured a generous amount of syrup over her waffle. “Then, you’ll truly be in awe of this place. It’s not in its full glory because we’re just entering spring, but daffodils, crocuses, and early tulips are abundant right now. You’ll also see some flowering bushes.”
“I’d love to take a look at it after breakfast,” said Brigid. “Maybe I can find a few healing herbs to add to my supplies.”
“My father had an entire section devoted to herbs when he was exploring healing options for my mom. He always shared with close friends,” Quillon said. “You’re welcome to use any of it you want.”
“Speaking of your father,” Evander asked, “any risk of him showing up?”
“My family owns properties in most regions of the country,” Quillon said. “This was my mother’s favorite place, and I grew up here; Dad has avoided coming here since her death. My sister’s studying on the east coast, so she’s using one of our homes there. We shouldn’t have any unexpected visitors.”
“Is the garden sheltered from outsiders?” Evander asked.
“Yes. There’s a six-foot high wall that surrounds the two acres of the property. As an extra precaution, I’ve created a holographic projection around the perimeter so that anyone looking in thinks they’re seeing a pleasant gardenscape. Sometimes, I might be depicted as reading there or sipping coffee; in reality, we can be doing something quite different. I developed it when we needed a safe place for Symba or any other visiting fairies to re-charge their wings.”
“You know about that?” Treena said.
“I never had to worry much about charging my gift when I was growing up,” Symba said. “Living integrated with the human population, I was more concerned with hiding my gift than developing it. I attended occasional moon ceremonies and learned the practices because my mom wanted me to know my heritage. Quillon attended once.
“When Quillon started researching and getting involved, he asked me to help. I began to hone my gift, which meant I had to keep restoring my energy supply. It was then that he developed the holographic field.”
“I checked the weather forecast for this afternoon,” said Quillon, looking up from a small pad in his lap. “It’s supposed to be warm and sunny. I need to get on the computer, but it might be an opportune time for you to charge up. The next full moon isn’t for another ten nights.”
“Meditation also helps renew our power and I suspect it’d help restore human reserves as well,” Treena said to Quillon.
Symba turned to Brigid. “You were awesome, leading us yesterday. I think we should practice daily together.”
“We felt more coherent after that meditation,” agreed Evander. “Continuing to practice together will strengthen our individual resolve, as well as the prophecy working through us as a team.” He paused. “We also need to assess our fighting capacity in case that need arises. Treena, we’ll need your leadership in this area.”
Treena nodded her agreement, but her face reflected some hesitation. “We need to focus on protection, yet be careful not to do this with an intent to bring harm. That goes against our essence. I’m trained in sword, knife, bow, and hand-to-hand combat, but I don’t know the weaponry used in this world.”
“Guns are used at a distance and knives sometimes for close encounters,” Quillon said. “Guns are dangerous and highly destructive. They tend to escalate violence. I suggest you avoid using them.”
“Quillon’s a crack shot, so he can guide us in that line of defense if needed,” Symba said. “But he hasn’t trained in anything else. He may be taller and heavier than me, but I can flip him in an instant.”
“Why don’t we all work together on defense this afternoon? You and I can compare hand-to-hand techniques then,” Treena said.
Brigid lifted her empty coffee cup. “You and I are on clean-up. Let’s get to work.”
The group agreed to meet in the gardens in half an hour, except Quillon. He was anxious to catch up with his computer contacts. He wanted to know the latest reports.
***
Team Building
Brigid wandered out to the garden. She meandered along its walkways, drawing in the delight of flowers in bloom. She discovered the herb garden and noted items she could use. The knife from Asa would be perfect for harvesting. The thought of using it helped her family feel close.
Brigid saw a clump of evergreen bushes ahead and followed the path into their midst. She caught her breath at the sight of flowering azaleas which encircled a bubbling fountain. It flowed into a pool of exquisitely blue water. The sun seemed to be drawn to its force; Brigid knew she’d found the perfect place for recharging their wings. Butterflies and hummingbirds darted in and around the azaleas. She was eager for the others to arrive. She lifted her face, feeling the sun’s warm caress.
Drowsily, she savored the warmth. She didn’t hear anyone approach, until strong arms encircled her, and the form of another body contoured along her back.
Heated breath tickled her ear as Evander spoke. “Good morning, beautiful.”
She turned in his arms and sunk into a blissful tangle of lips and tongue.
Aware the others wouldn’t be far behind, Brigid eased back and whispered, “Good morning.”
Rather than the hot flash of their previous encounters, a warm glow pulsed and filled her with well-being. Even the stones of her necklace seemed to be emitting an extra shine.
Evander smoothed a finger over the topaz and continued to lightly hold her. “You sense it too?”
Brigid nodded shyly.
They could hear the murmur of Symba and Treena’s voices.
Evander put additional distance between them, but firmly held one of Brigid’s hands. “I can’t seem to let go.”
The rumble of his voice thrummed inside her and she squeezed his hand in acknowledgement.
“What a splendid place,” said Treena as she and Symba came through the opening in the bushes. As she took in the enclosed area and noted the fountain, an appearance of peace swept over her usually serious visage. If she observed Brigid and Evander’s joined hands, she didn’t make mention of it.
“The sun seems to concentrate here,” Symba said. “With the flowers, fountain, butterflies, and birds, the energy seems extra pure, somehow. This is where I’ve been coming to charge my wings.” She pulled a bag from her back. “I’ve brought a few blankets to keep out the damp, so we can sit on the ground.”
She shared them around and everyone found a comfortable spot.
Symba cleared her throat. “I know we can offer our own prayers to the sun but, Evander, I’ve never had the privilege of a priest’s blessings for our recharging. I expect that’s nothing special to all of you, but it would mean a lot to me if you could say them for us today.”
“It’s always an honor to share with others in prayer,” said Evander. “Are you all comfortable holding hands?”
They nodded and moved closer together. Symba reached out to clasp Evander’s hand on one side and Treena’s on the other. Brigid extended one hand to Treena and the other to Evander.
Evander encouraged them to begin with slow deep breaths and to gradually unfurl their wings. He began the prayers. “The circle of life connects us; one breath of life flows through us. The earth below supports us. Flowers and trees, birds and all creatures share their energy generously. Water refreshes; hear the rush of its cleansing ability. The sun sustains us. We feel its warmth and renewing power. We’re open to all that we are and
all that we may become. With gratitude, we receive what is offered this day.”
Silence descended. Wings opened wide. Faces tilted to receive the beat of the sun’s rays. Minutes passed as wings absorbed wave after wave of energy. Yet, something felt incomplete.
Evander opened his eyes. His gaze fell upon Quillon, seated a short distance away, his head bowed. Evander spoke again. “The circle of life connects us; one breath of life flows through us. Fairy and human, we are one. Apart broken. Together strong. Quillon, join us.”
Quillon looked up, startled.
Brigid looked up, smiling. Symba gestured with her chin for him to move over. Treena nodded. They’d all felt the incompleteness of their circle.
Quillon rose up and moved to sit between Evander and Symba. As their hands connected, a low hum sounded. Their wings began to emit a soft white light. They stayed together a short while longer, until the hum stopped and the light faded.
Evander continued to lead them. “Hands raise, eyes open.”
They responded as directed.
“We see each other. We value the gifts we each bring to this life we share. We see the sun, the earth; we feel the air. We take nothing for granted. We give our lives for the good of all. Blessed be.”
They released hands. Each took a personal moment to complete their worship. Gradually, they gathered up their blankets.
Quillon spoke first. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. I finished my computer research early. I felt drawn to find you.”
Evander clasped his shoulder. “You didn’t interrupt,” he said. “You’re part of us.”
“The circle felt incomplete without you. We won’t make that mistake again,” said Treena.
“Your wings are so beautiful,” said Quillon. “I didn’t realize they’d each be different in color and shape. I’ve only ever seen Symba’s opened. May I touch them?”
“I guess our wings are as individual as any other body part,” Treena said. “They’re highly sensitive with all the energy they store. Mostly, we share them in worship for the sun and moon to touch, and with our intimate other.”
The Prophecy Page 11