Visions of Triumph

by Anne, Meg

  “You going to kill me now?”

  “Not yet, I still have use for you.” He waved a hand and both her arms shot out to the side. Another wave, and her legs straightened. As useless as a puppet, Skye sat pinned against the wall, unable to move as the Druid lifted half her tattered shirt, revealing the rune he’d carved into her skin.

  “Runes truly are remarkable, aren’t they, Seer?”

  Skye took advantage of the only power she still held over her body and slammed her eyes closed as the cool blade ran across her skin.

  “One small flick of the wrist, and it becomes something new entirely.”

  The blade bit into her skin, and Skye cried out.

  “There we go,” he said with a grin. “Now, it will only be a matter of time.”

  He released her, and Skye glanced down to see a small line carved into the corner of the rune. Warm blood dripped down her side and added itself to the smeared pools she’d already left on the concrete.

  Forcing herself to look away, she swallowed back a wave of nausea. Pressing a hand against her side, she gasped around the searing pain, “A matter of time before what?”

  He simply stared at her as if she should already know the answer before turning away.

  If his plan was to lure Lucas and then kill her, she might as well already be dead. Tired of being a victim in this bastard’s game, Skye sneered. “Lucas is going to slaughter you, you worthless piece of shit.”

  The Druid whirled on her, his face twisting with rage. “Me? What about you, Seer? The only power you possess is to bear witness to death that you cannot stop. Nothing you offer is worth anything, and yet you say I am worthless?”

  He closed the distance between them faster than her eyes could track, simultaneously crouching down and cocking his arm back. His hand cracked across her cheek, and her head slammed back into the bricks. Stars exploded in her vision, each tiny supernova bringing a new wave of molten pain. Skye didn’t think her brain could handle many more of these blows, no matter what twisted magic he used to piece her back together. Her body was covered with invisible scars, the remembered pain lingering even after her injuries faded.

  Spitting blood on the floor, Skye tilted her chin up defiantly. “Then I guess we’re both worthless. Lucas, though, is anything but.”

  “We will see, won’t we?”

  Reaching down, the Druid used magic to release her chains. He lifted her by an arm and began dragging her across the floor. She struggled violently, panic chasing her pain, but all the frantic movements did was tear open more of her skin where it rubbed against the ground.

  “Where are you taking me?”

  “I want you to have a great view of the show, Seer. It’s going to be a good one.”

  He hauled her through the doorway and down a barely lit hall. The farther they got from the room that had been her cell, the more terrified she became.

  Lucas would come for her, guns blazing. No matter how angry or hurt he was by her words, he was too good of a man to risk the Druid hurting her. If he only knew…

  Certain of his victory, Lucas might not consider the fact that it was a trap and she was the bait. If that was the case, there was a very real possibility that the man she loved was going to die.

  Tonight.

  Chapter 8

  Lucas

  Lucas rocketed out of his chair, sending it flying back into the wall behind him. He pressed his fingers to his temples with an agonized groan as a fresh wave of pain rolled through him. He’d been combing through maps, trying to figure out where his grandfather might be hiding Skye, when sweat had started to drip down his face. That was concerning since he’d hardly been exerting himself, but before he could even process what was happening, a searing pain started to simmer just below his skin. It was like his blood started to boil and set him on fire from the inside out.

  On its own, that was already more than enough of a mind fuck, but even so it was only the easier to explain half of what was happening to him. On top of feeling like a human inferno, blinding pain tore through his mind, one endless roar that was drowning out everything else.

  He couldn’t breathe. It hurt to suck in air, even as his lungs ached for it. Each new breath felt like a living flame burning its way through his tortured body.

  As quickly as the sensation started, it vanished, leaving little aftershocks of pain but also glorious emptiness in his mind. If he hadn’t still been mostly upright in the middle of the kitchen, Lucas would have sworn he’d just been burned alive. Was this some new present from his asshole grandfather? It was the only explanation for why he could still feel the anguish of the death as if it had been his own.

  “What the hell, man?” Matthews shouted, trying to pull the papers he’d been skimming out of the way of the coffee Lucas knocked over. The dark liquid was already soaking the table and everything on it.

  Lucas stared down at his hands, trying to put into words the strange sensation that overtook him. Panic, terror, pain. He could feel each emotion as if it were him experiencing it. An image of a bloody Skye popped into his head, and Lucas stumbled back against the counter.

  “Lucas!” Lizzie cried out, jumping to her feet as she tried to steady him.

  “Skye,” he wheezed as bone-chilling terror filled him.

  Lizzie’s eyes widened. “Skye? What’s going on, Lucas?”

  Matthews moved around the table to stand on the other side of him.

  “I can feel her.”

  “What do you mean you can feel her?” Lizzie released him and straightened.

  Lucas shook his head, trying to push back the feelings that weren’t his own. “I don’t know how to explain it,” he said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I can feel what she's feeling right now.”

  “How is that possible? Were you trying out a new spell?” Lizzie scanned his face as she sought to make sense of his words.

  “No, I mean, I was thinking about her, but I wasn’t actively trying to find her.”

  “We need to call Giles,” Matthews decided, standing up to grab the phone from the counter.

  “What is she feeling?” Lizzie asked.

  Lucas looked at his sister. “Terrified. And in a hell of a lot of pain.”

  Lizzie gasped, her hand flying up to cover her mouth. “Do you think he’s going to kill her?”

  “He won’t. At least not until he gets to me first.” Lucas’ words were grim but certain. If nothing else, he was sure of that.

  “Giles is down the street, he was already on his way over,” Matthews informed them, taking his seat back at the table.

  As if he hadn’t spoken, Lizzie continued with her interrogation. “Do you think you can use whatever it is you’re feeling to find out where she is?”

  The idea sparked a welcome flare of hope. Lucas closed his eyes and tried to picture Skye. Bright whiskey eyes, dark hair, a smile that lit up any room she entered. He focused on everything he loved about her and tried his best to pinpoint where her fear was coming from. Searing pain shot through his entire body, and Lucas’ knees buckled, he had to place both of his hands on the table just to remain standing. All of her suffering, and every bit of her terror, barreled into him like a freight train. Whatever she’d been going through, it was something no person should ever experience.

  “Fuck!” Frustration coursed through him as he opened his eyes with a defeated growl. “I can’t see anything about where she is.” He began to pace.

  Lizzie stood and wiped the spilled coffee off the table before turning to pour her brother a fresh cup. She placed the steaming mug in front of him.

  The door opened with a crash, and Giles rushed in, red-faced. “What do ye know?”

  “Not much,” Lucas admitted. “I know she’s alive, terrified, and in pain.” He ground his teeth together. The fucking bastard is going to pay for hurting her.

  “How did ye sense her?”

  “I don’t know. I was sitting there reviewing some maps and drinking coffee and she just popped into m
y head. Well, first it felt like I was being burned alive, then I could feel her.”

  Giles made a face at Lucas’ description.

  “What?” Lizzie sputtered. “You didn’t mention anything about that part. Don’t you think that was a pretty big detail to leave out, Detective?”

  She used the title with so much sass and exasperation that he couldn’t help but think of all the times Skye had done the same.

  Giles began to pace, his clipped steps mirroring Lucas’ own. “Ye weren’t actively trying to find her?”

  Lucas shook his head.

  “It’s a trap. It has to be. He had the lass blocked until he wanted ye to find her.” Giles removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. His green eyes were bright when they met Lucas’. “Ye can’t trust the instinct to go to her, not yet. As hard as it is, ye have to ignore it.”

  “I don’t give two shits whether it’s a trap or not. I’m going after her,” Lucas insisted, anger rising in his chest.

  “We,” Lizzie automatically corrected.

  Lucas shot her a grateful smile before glaring back at the old man.

  “I’m not suggesting we leave her to the wolves, but we have to be smart about it. If ye go now, the only thing ye guarantee is a quick death.”

  “Alright, fine. So, what’s your smart plan, Giles?” Matthews snapped. “No matter how we approach this, we’re all dangling at the end of that sick bastard’s mercy.”

  “We leave her there much longer and she’s the one that’s going to die.” Lucas folded his arms across his chest. “That’s not an option, as far as I’m concerned. So, fine, we account for it being a trap and plan from there. Either way, I’m not wasting any more fucking time. We’re doing this.”

  Giles narrowed his eyes on Lucas’ face. “Ye aren’t strong enough, lad. He’s had decades to cultivate his power. Ye’ve had days.”

  “Maybe, but didn’t you say we share the same amount of power? It’s split between us as the last remaining Druids, right? He’s not as powerful as he thinks; everyone’s got a weakness. Besides, I have something he doesn’t, and no amount of power in the world is going to change that.”

  “And what’s that?” Giles asked.

  “You guys. I have a team; he’s alone.”

  “That’s great for sentiment, but in terms of an actual fight, ye know as well as we do that we won’t be adding much assistance.”

  Giles ran a hand through his thinning brown hair, causing it to stand on end. He looked like a flustered hamster in a tweed vest. Definitely not the kind of man Lucas would think to bring with him in a fight, but Giles’ knowledge made him a powerful, albeit infuriating, ally.

  “Listen, I’ve made my stance clear, we’re going after Skye whether you’re in or not. Since you are still huffing from running over here, I can’t help but assume you want to help us. So, do it. Help me. Help me beat him. Help me get my girl back,” Lucas begged, his voice earnest and thickening with the emotion he was trying so hard to keep in check.

  Giles narrowed his eyes at Lucas, his stern face softening slightly around the eyes after a moment. “Ye’ll get yourself killed. What good will ye be to her then?”

  “I’m not arguing with the fact that this is a trap. All I’m asking is that you help us plan around it. Is there anything you can tell us that might give us the upper hand? Any idea about what might be waiting for us?”

  The Scot’s face fell, his eyes going glossy with unshed tears. “We all know what’s waiting for ye,” he finally said, his voice defeated. “It’s the same thing everyone who goes up against this bastard finds: death.”

  “Well, that was helpful.” Lizzie stepped out onto the back porch and joined Lucas in one of the large wooden armchairs.

  “Tell me about it,” he responded dryly.

  “What are we going to do?”

  “I don’t fucking know, Lizzie. We go after her, we might fail, leaving her in his hands forever, but if we don’t go, she’ll die.”

  “Sounds like a win-win, if I’ve ever heard one.”

  Lucas glanced at his sister, who was doing her best to cheer him up. She hadn’t bothered getting dressed yet, and still wore her pajamas. Blonde hair hung down in loose waves, framing her face in a way that made her look more like a teenager than the adult she was.

  “Look, you’re Lucas fucking MacConnell. You always come out on top, so why can’t we tap into some of that arrogance that annoys me and make this work?”

  Lucas let out an empty laugh. “I wish it were that easy, but it’s not just my life at stake, Lizzie. If I fail, you all die.”

  His sister patted his arm gently. “Let us worry about our own lives, Lucas. The bottom line is that we have to get Skye. We can’t leave her to face that guy all by herself.”

  Despite her forced bravado, Lizzie’s eyes filled, and a fat tear rolled down her pale cheek.

  Lucas’ heart clenched. He wasn’t the only one hurting. Sighing, Lucas covered her hand with his. “I know that. I just need to find out how to do this so we come out with the least amount of collateral damage.”

  Chapter 9

  Skye

  It took a moment for Skye to recognize the living room. Only two lights were on, but they shone through the hallway, casting oddly elongated shadows against the floor. Once her eyes adjusted, she rose and walked around the couch, curious about the sprawl of paper and maps on the table. Before she could dip down to inspect them, the soft murmur of voices pulled her focus.

  “Lucas, you have to get some sleep.”

  “We’ve been over this, Lizzie. I’m not sleeping until I find her.”

  Drawn to him like a moth helplessly pulled to the flickers of a flame, Skye followed the sound of his voice. When she found him, he was sprawled in a chair on the patio, a mostly empty glass of scotch at his side.

  His jaw was coated with the day’s stubble, and his hair looked like he’d ran his hands through it more than a few times. Deep purple smudges spoke to the state of his exhaustion and darkened the blue of his eyes, turning them a deep shade of violet. Any other time, it would have been a devastatingly beautiful effect. That was, if they weren’t also bloodshot and if the look in them wasn’t utterly tortured.

  Her superhero was hurting. Worse, he was losing hope.

  The need to comfort him overwhelmed her, and Skye drifted closer.

  As if he could sense her, Lucas glanced over his sister’s shoulder and stared hard at the place Skye stood. She froze, hope and anticipation making her heart flutter wildly in her chest.

  He frowned deeply, his brows knitting together.

  “Lucas,” his sister called, pulling his attention back to her. “Seriously, you’re no good to her drunk or exhausted. You can barely keep your eyes open. Go to bed. We can pick this up in the morning.”

  “Fuck off, Lizzie.”

  She scowled and crossed her arms, not backing down. Skye smiled even as her heart ached. It was such a typical Lizzie reaction.

  “I should have figured this out by now… she’s counting on me. We can’t just leave her there.”

  “Lucas.” His sister’s voice was gentle, even mildly apologetic. “You don’t even know where there is.”

  Lucas glowered, his eyes heating with a hint of his power. When he spoke again, his voice was barely more than a growl. “This is what I do, Lizzie. I solve the unsolvable cases. I always catch my guy. I have done this a hundred times for a hundred families. This time, I need a win for me.”

  “Oh, Lucas,” Skye murmured, tears filling her eyes.

  If this was a dream, it was cruel. These stolen moments were all she had to break up the monotony of torture and pain that filled her waking hours. If it was a vision, why was she seeing it? To see how badly her friends were suffering? That they had no clue where to start the search to find her? That she had royally fucked up by not going with them that day? She didn’t need that last reminder; it ate at her every waking moment of every day they were apart.

  The change
s in her gift caused nothing but confusion. It made relying on what she was Seeing and the accuracy of the details impossible. She could no longer tell the difference between visions and dreams because she wasn’t familiar enough with the nuances to understand them.

  A frustrated huff left her lips. Even if she was no help to them, at least she could see them.

  Skye took the last remaining steps that separated her from the chair Lucas sat in. Without conscious thought, she lifted her hand and ran it along his hair, loving the feel of it beneath her fingers.

  Lucas froze.

  “Lucas?” Lizzie asked, her eyes concerned. “Is it happening again?”

  Skye couldn’t see his face from where she was standing, but she could hear the wonder in his voice as he whispered her name.

  “Skye?”

  “I’m here, baby. I’m with you.”

  When he didn’t speak again, it was obvious he hadn’t heard her.

  His shoulders dropped, his head falling forward. His heartache was evident in the quivering of his indrawn breath.

  It was too much.

  Skye bent down and threw her arms around him. “Don’t give up. Please. I can’t keep fighting him if I know you aren’t out there doing the same. I know I don’t deserve it, but please don’t give up on me.”

  Lucas tensed, his muscles turning to rock.

  He may not have been able to hear her, but he could feel her.

  Pressing her lips to every inch of his face, she peppered him with ghostly kisses.

  Lucas lifted a shaking hand, reaching for the place her face curled into his neck.

  “Lucas, you’re scaring me!” Lizzie cried out, her voice bordering on hysteria.

  He ignored her.

  “Skye,” he whispered, turning his face toward hers.

  The thought of him knowing she was here with him was too irresistible to ignore. Skye ran her nose along the length of his and pressed her lips against his.