“Damn you.” She threw her arms around his neck and wept.
Her grief tore at him. Gods, this love thing was painful—and joyful. She filled his soul. Even knowing they had so little time left together, holding her now was worth every ache he suffered. “I suppose pity sex is out of the question?” he whispered into her ear.
She laughed through her tears. Taking his face between her hands, she studied him as if she meant to memorize his features. Drawing his head down, she kissed him.
His insides melted. After everything he’d put her through, how could she be so giving? Women were a mystery. Nay, a miracle. Rising from the chair, he moved toward the bed without breaking the kiss and laid her down gently. “Are ye certain?”
Sidney nodded. “This isn’t pity sex. I need this. It’s…” Her eyes filled.
“I ken what you’re trying to say.” He stretched out beside her. “This is farewell.” Dermot caught her tears with his kisses. He wanted to lose himself inside her and forget for a few hours that his life would end tomorrow. Nuzzling the warm, tender spot beneath her ear, he drew her honeyed scent deep into his lungs. Sidney had been an unexpected gift in an otherwise desolate existence.
“Sidney,” he whispered into her ear, “I want you.” He ran his hands inside her robe and under her T-shirt, reveling in the velvet warmth of her skin. “I need you.”
Her breath hitched at his touch, igniting his blood. She tugged at his shirt, pulling it out of his jeans. Unbuttoning the top few buttons, she brought it up over his head and tossed it on the floor. She drew his face down for a kiss, and he stopped her.
“I wish to unwrap you slowly,” he rasped, cradling her face between his hands. “You’ll never know what a gift you are to me, mo anam. I mean to show you. Let me.”
“This time belongs to you. Whatever you want, just tell me.”
He pulled her tight into his arms. Burying his face in the crook of her neck, he hid the tears blurring his vision. Breathing hard, Dermot fought to gain control over the emotions churning inside him. Love, regret, bitterness. He lamented the things he would never have with her.
Sidney held Dermot as tight as she could. What must he be going through? The injustice of his circumstance shredded her heart to ribbons. Oh, God. This is too hard. How would she live through tomorrow? Should she tell him she loved him? No. Knowing how she felt would only add to the burden of guilt he already carried. She’d keep the words to herself and show him how much she loved him with her body.
He took a deep, shuddering breath as she cradled him. Whatever torture he suffered passed. Loosening his hold, he undressed her, one garment at a time. Kissing and nibbling her into a fever as he went. His touch was so tender her insides turned to liquid heat. She felt as if she were being worshipped. He took her breath away. This day would be etched in her mind forever. Nothing and no one would ever compare.
Dermot slipped her panties off and rubbed his cheek against her belly, sending frissons of electricity spiraling through her. Covering her with kisses, he moved up her body to take her mouth, plunging his tongue in to dance with hers. His bare chest against hers radiated heat. Sidney reached to unfasten his pants, pushing them down his hips. She wanted all of his skin against hers, wanted to trace every contour of his perfect body with her fingertips. He helped her tug the pants off and kicked them away.
Dermot studied her with an intensity that made her blood rush. “I want you to be happy. You deserve more than…” His jaw clenched. He rested his forehead against hers.
“No more talking.” She rolled him over and straddled his hips. “We have more important things to do.” Sidney leaned down and circled one of his nipples with her tongue. His breath caught, and she ran her hands down his torso.
This is goodbye. She’d make his last day on earth worth it. Loving her way down his incredible body, Sidney did a little worshipping of her own.
At least he’d die knowing what heaven felt like. He sighed and drew Sidney’s warm, sleepy body closer to his side. They’d made love until neither of them had any energy left. She stirred enough to place her cheek over his heart.
“I never thought much about reincarnation before I met you.” She played with the hair on his chest. “It’s real.”
“Aye.”
“Do you think we’ll meet again in another life?”
He didn’t miss the hopeful note in her voice, and his own hopes flared. “Would you like that? Even after all the hell I’ve put you through, you’d want to know me?”
“Despite everything—most of which was not your fault—yes, I would.” She raised herself to grin at him. “You’re really good in bed.”
He smacked her bare bottom. Her laughter went straight through him. “Is that all I’m good for?”
“Of course not. I’m sure you’re good at other things.” She shrugged. “I just haven’t had the chance to find them out.” Sidney planted a kiss on his cheek. “I hope we meet again. I hope your next life is filled with all the things that bring you joy. I think you’ve earned a few lifetimes of happiness.”
Dermot couldn’t speak. All he could do was hold her in his arms. She embodied all the things that brought him joy.
“Well?”
“It’s a date, lass. Count on it.”
“How will we know?”
“It’ll feel as though we’ve known each other forever. There will be an instant attraction and soul recognition. We may no’ remember who we were, but we’ll sense we’ve known each other.”
“That’s exactly what Zoe said about Thomas when they first met.” She propped herself up on his chest. “There’s something that’s been bugging me. How is it that Mairéad could take the antidote for immortality and live, while you and your men—”
“I thought we’d already been over this. There is no way around it. As much as I wish there were, tomorrow I die. Tonight I want to hold you in my arms and forget all about it.”
Her chin quivered, and he regretted his harsh words. “Och, lass. I’m sorry. Perhaps it’s because Mairéad was half Tuatha Dé Danann.”
“More likely it’s because Áine is an amoral bitch without an ounce of compassion in her cold-blooded body. She’ll probably lace it with some kind of poison.”
“I can see you need distracting.” He nibbled his favorite spot on her neck. She sighed and turned her head to give him better access.
“I’m going to make you forget all about tomorrow. Now is all we have.” He ran his hand down her body to the junction of her thighs. She opened for him. Dermot intended to make love to her until she fell asleep in his arms.
She’d asked him to come back to her. Warmth spilled out of his heart into his anguished soul. He’d find a way. His Druidic training would finally be of some use. Whatever it took, he meant to arrange the life together they’d been denied, even if he had to wait another sixteen hundred years. For the first time in his long life, Dermot had something to look forward to.
It almost made turning to a pile of ash tomorrow bearable. Almost.
Chapter Twenty-One
“Dagda Mór and Áine are here.” Zoe walked into Sidney’s room and started pacing.
“I know. Dermot left a few minutes ago to gather the men. He said he’d send someone for us when…”
Zoe stopped in front of her, a stricken expression on her pale face. “What are we going to do?”
She shook her head. Hopelessness turned her insides to lead. “What is there to do?” Images of Iselda flashed through her mind, a lovely young woman who’d done nothing to deserve the agony she’d suffered. They’d all been robbed—twice. “I don’t know. Maybe all we can do is be there for them at the end.”
Though she couldn’t bear the thought of watching Dermot disintegrate, he needed her. Zoe needed her. When the hell had she become the strong one? “I’m so sorry for all of us.”
“Don’t say that. I can’t handle it.” Zoe paced again. “Thomas won’t take the antidote, that’s all there is to it.” She wrapped her arms around her m
iddle. “Maybe we could appeal to Dagda Mór.”
“The Tuatha Dé Danann aren’t like us. Appealing to the king is more likely to annoy him than do any good. They don’t look at life the same way we do, and Dagda Mór doesn’t get involved with humans.”
“He got involved with you.”
Sidney sighed. “Only because Áine brought her mess into his backyard. Her actions have upset their whole political equilibrium.”
Zoe picked up one of the coffee cups from the table and hurled it across the room. The sound of shattering china split the air. She picked up another, threw it to crash over the first and crumpled to the floor, sobbing into her hands. “I…I can’t stand this. It isn’t fair. Thomas and I were supposed to get married, have children and grow old together. We didn’t have the chance sixteen hundred and fifty years ago, and it’s not fair we can’t have it now.” She lifted her anguished eyes to Sidney. “Isn’t there anything you can do?”
Sidney’s eyes widened. “Me? Why me?”
“Because you’re Mairéad, Áine’s frickin’ daughter, that’s why. Not to mention the high king’s granddaughter,” Zoe cried. “Do something. I’m begging you.”
“Áine tried to kill me. Believe me, she doesn’t see me as her long-lost daughter. If anything, she hates me because I managed to survive.”
“But—”
“I know what you’re going to say. Forget it. Dagda Mór doesn’t care about any of this. Our problems don’t even register on his meter. He only saved my ass from Áine because she broke their laws.” Sidney sat on the floor and gave Zoe’s hand a squeeze. “I can try to talk to him, but I’m not getting my hopes up. Neither should you.”
“I have to keep my hopes up. Don’t you?”
Sidney shook her head. “If you’d gone through half the things with Áine that I have—”
“Don’t you love Dermot?”
“Yes, I do. Remember a few weeks ago when I told you about the voice in my head saying it’s not him? Well, it’s screaming at me now. It’s him. He’s the one. The weird part is, now I recognize the voice. It’s Mairéad’s. Even though he didn’t love me then, and he doesn’t love me now. I’ve been in love with the same damned man for almost two thousand years. How pathetic is that?”
“Oh, Sidney.” Zoe put an arm around her shoulders. “A person would have to be blind not to see the way Dermot looks at you. Hasn’t he spent the last two days and nights with you?”
“He never said he loved me, only that he wanted me. It’s not the same, and it’s not enough. All Mairéad ever wanted was to hear Dermot say those three little words. He never did. Not even while she died in his arms.” She swiped at the tears trickling down her cheeks. “He told me romantic love is for fools and weaklings.”
“I’m sure he—”
“What difference does it make? It’s too late.” Sidney laid her forehead on her knees. “Dermot wants to die. He’s determined to go through with this—if not for himself, then for his men.”
Zoe sat up straight and grabbed Sidney’s arm. “What if we take Thomas and Dermot far away from here?”
“Dermot wouldn’t leave, and I doubt Thomas would either. Besides, where do you think we could go that Áine couldn’t find us?” Sidney looked askance at her best friend. “Did I forget to mention she’s a supernatural faerie with a vendetta and a nasty disposition?”
“Shit,” Zoe muttered.
“Shit is right.” Desperation clawed at her insides. Losing Dermot was the hardest thing she’d ever had to face. She’d been through every angle of their situation in her mind a thousand times and couldn’t find a way out.
“Wait. If you have all of Mairéad’s memories, don’t you know what’s in the antidote to immortality? Maybe living or dying is a dosage thing. You could make it yourself with Dermot’s help…”
Sidney shook her head. “Only the king’s most trusted mages know the formula for the elixir of life and the antidote. Mairéad never had any interest, and she didn’t have access.”
“God, I wish Dermot had never appealed to Dagda Mór after they were cursed.” Zoe reached for one of the saucers from the table above her and threw it across the room to shatter against the wall. “Thomas could spend lifetime after lifetime with me. If we just keep getting reborn, he could wait for me each time, right? We could share our lives over and over forever. I’d adjust to the whole wrinkled, saggy thing for a chance to be with him.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean I’d grow old and wrinkly while Thomas stayed young and gorgeous, duh.” Zoe put her face back into her hands.
Sidney gave her an exasperated nudge. “No. I mean the part about Dermot appealing to Dagda Mór.”
“You already know about that,” Zoe mumbled into her kneecaps.
“No, I don’t. How would I know?”
“Because you’re frickin’ Mairéad. That’s how. Try to keep up.”
Sidney took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “When did this appeal happen?”
“A few days after Áine cursed them.”
“After Mairéad’s death.”
“Oh. Right.” Zoe wiped at her face with the linen cloth hanging over the table. “I’m sorry, Sid. I’m losing it here.”
“Me too. It’s okay.” Sidney stood up and searched for something to throw. Her hand trembled as she reached for the plate from yesterday’s sandwiches. Memories of her time with Dermot played through her mind while her heart broke into a million pieces. She needed to break something. She threw the plate across the room and watched it splinter into pieces. “What was the appeal about?”
Weeping into the tablecloth, Zoe mumbled, “I don’t see what difference it makes.”
“Tell me anyway.” Sidney’s chest tightened, and she couldn’t get enough air into her lungs. “Maybe there’s something I’ve missed, something important we could use to appeal to Dagda Mór for mercy.”
Zoe sniffed and wiped her eyes. “When Áine cursed them with immortality, she didn’t give them an out. Dermot appealed to Dagda Mór, who agreed to listen to both sides and render a final judgment. If it weren’t for Dagda Mór, they’d remain immortal forever.”
Sidney’s mind reeled. Why had Dagda Mór insisted that Dermot return her to the scene of the crime? There had to be a reason she’d been forced to relive Mairéad’s death. She searched through Mairéad’s memories for a clue.
“Well?”
“I don’t know. I’m thinking.” Sidney walked over to the window and stared out into the bleak gray morning. “Dermot and Áine both presented their sides. So what? It’s not like the king couldn’t have figured out what happened without their testimony.”
“Thomas said Áine claimed she never heard Dermot’s call for help.”
“She didn’t lie about that.”
“How can you be so sure Áine didn’t lie?”
“Because I’m frickin’ Mairéad, that’s why. Dermot isn’t the only one who called Áine for help that morning. Mairéad did too. Áine truly couldn’t hear anyone’s pleas. She was drunk on her ass and passed out cold.” Sidney shook her head.
“If Dagda Mór knew, it explains why he gave Dermot and his men an out, but it doesn’t explain what he hoped to achieve by forcing me and Dermot together.” She traced a path through the condensation her breath caused on the window. “At least he showed them a little mercy.”
A knock on the door turned Sidney’s insides to ice. “Come in.”
Lachlan walked through the door—a sadness so deep it stretched all the way back to the fifth century clouded his features. “Everyone is gathered in the dining hall. It’s time.” He frowned at the china shards covering the floor, then studied her with an intensity that brought fresh tears to her eyes. “I want you to know how grateful we are to you, lass. You’re setting us free.”
“It’s the least I can do, since it’s Mairéad’s fault you’re cursed. She never should have—”
“Nay.” Lachlan shook his head. “None of this is Mair�
�ad’s fault.” He thrust his hands deep into his pockets as if he didn’t know what to do with them. “I hope you ken how much we all loved her. We all grieved her loss.”
“I remember,” Sidney whispered. “She loved all of you too.”
“You do no’ have to come downstairs, Sidney. None would blame you if you decided no’ to watch the end.”
“I’d regret it for the rest of my life if I weren’t there for all of you.” She helped Zoe up and kept her friend’s hand clasped with hers. She forced herself to move, one foot in front of the other. Time slowed to a crawl as they followed Lachlan in the corridor and down the stairs. She became hyperaware of every detail along the way—the color and texture of the stone walls, the sconces lighting the way, even the faint scent of lemon wax from the oak floorboards. Each step took her closer to a loss so great she knew she’d never recover.
The moment she and Zoe entered the hall, the room reverberated with the sound of chairs scraping against the floor as the men pushed them back and rose. Their expressions grave, they placed their right hands over their hearts and bowed to her. Sidney sucked in her breath and leaned against Zoe.
Dagda Mór and Áine stood by Dermot near the sideboard. An earthenware pitcher and thirteen pewter goblets sat in a semicircle on the cold granite surface. Everything had been arranged in a precise and orderly manner. Almost clinical—like death.
All the blood left Sidney’s head. Zoe’s hand slipped from hers, and stars flashed before her eyes. Just as her knees buckled, strong arms caught her up. Dermot held her close, and she dropped her forehead onto his shoulder. She didn’t have the strength to face this. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“Ye’ve naught to be sorry about.” His voice gruff in her ear, Dermot led her to a chair against the wall and helped her sit. He knelt in front of her and took her hands in his. “Ye dinna have to stay, lass. It’s enough for me to ken ye came.”
“I’m not leaving.” She leaned over. “Just…just give me a minute. I need a minute.”
Dermot cradled her head on his shoulder while she recovered. This is the last time I’ll feel his touch. She swallowed hard and fought the tears. Inhaling his scent for the last time, Sidney straightened, only to lose herself in his clear gray gaze. “I’m better now. Thanks.”
Heart of the Druid Laird Page 25