The Compass

by Cindy Charity

  All her ire was gone, replaced by vulnerability. As much as he wanted to—needed to, Finn couldn't answer her. His body was dealing with the force of her touch. The leather of his jacket could not protect his skin, it burned where her fingers clutched. It was like thousands of tiny living barbs were digging their way into his flesh, anchoring themselves there. And while they were digging, pulses of energy shot into his system. In his mind he saw bright lights in various colors. They pulsated and flashed with frenzy.

  Finn!

  Cian’s voice, filled with panic, reached him. He sounded like he was millions miles away. Through the torment Finn responded. Her touch, it scorches. I cannot stop it—the lights, there’s something in the lights but I cannot see what it is. He felt Cian’s attempt to interfere, but all it did was strengthen the connection, and pain unlike he had ever known cleaved a bellow from him. To put it in mortal terms, it was like sticking a fork into a light socket. He knew he had to remove Ali’s fingers, but his brain wasn’t listening to his commands. It was though they were fusing together, her energy and his.

  Her eyes began to drift close. Ali fought against it. She still hadn't told Finn what she thought of him. He needed to hear it; he was too bossy, and way too sexy. She rarely lost her temper so completely, but she sure had now—the gorgeous oaf. She moved her mouth, tried to form the words. Frustration had her growling. Then, just as suddenly as it had happened, everything stopped, like a switch being flicked off. Her hand slipped off of his arm and fell limply to her side. She was so dizzy. Why was she so dizzy?

  Finn doubled over and struggled to get air into his lungs. His body was racked with spasms. Raising his head, he saw Ali. She weaved a bit. Her eyes were cloudy. He immediately dismissed his own condition and focused on her. “Ali, lass, look at me, concentrate on me, on my voice.” He saw her try, and for a brief second, he believed she gained clarity.

  “I’m so going to kick your ass when I wake up.” She crumbled to the ground, her bones like liquid. Finn was on her in a flash. He gathered her limp body into his arms, ignoring the stench that wafted off of her. He bent his head to her chest and breathed a sigh of relief. She lived. Cian’s voice came to him.

  Get her home Finn—there’s nothing more we can do this night. We will provide all the protection we can.

  Staring down at Ali’s face, he committed every line to memory. The curve of her cheeks, the way her nose tipped ever so slightly at the end. Her lips were slightly parted, Finn found himself fixated on them. Unlike most mortal women, Ali wore no color on her lips. Ever so lightly, he traced a finger along a cheek, marvelling at the softness of it. A smile tugged at his mouth. She looked so peaceful, but he had been subject to her temper.

  Rising, he held her close to his chest, jolting when she curled inwardly into his embrace. Her brow wrinkled and she murmured something he couldn’t quite decipher. However, he got the feeling that it had something to do with him. Shifting her slight weight, Finn collected her purse, and then brought the address of her building to mind. He felt Cian’s boost and soon, he and Ali faded from the alleyway.

  Chapter Eight

  With a mug of steaming coffee in his hand, Finn watched as the sky gave way to the new day. He had spent the remainder of the night—well, the early morning really, dissecting what had happened. After leaving Ali in her apartment, he had returned to the alley to try to find any trace of Lugus. He had found nothing, not one single thing to prove Lugus had been there. Irritation clung to him. There should have been something left behind. Though his attacks had lacked luster, Lugus had used energy to seek out Ali. Energy left a mark.

  Ali had certainly left hers, on him. He had wanted to have Cian erase her memory of their whole encounter. But Tristan had interfered, explaining that she had touched him of her own freewill. By doing so, she had unwittingly united her connection to him. The pathway that had been so fragile before was now strong and clear. Tristan went on to assume that it had been Agrona’s doing in order to protect the Fragments. To wipe out her memory could possibly damage the connection.

  Sighing, Finn ran his free hand through his hair. He hated how cryptic those with magick tended to be. It had been one of the reasons he had leaned towards the blade rather than his birthright. It had disappointed his parents, but they had honored his choice, and maybe even had been proud. He would never know. They perished when their world had sunken into war.

  Cursing, Finn shored up the wall he had erected long ago. Dwelling on it now would serve no purpose other than cause him new pain from an old wound. The air of his apartment snapped as Cian, Tristan and Drake appeared. They had stayed out to see if they could detect what he could not. It took only a glance to know they found nothing. “How could there be no trace of one as powerful as Lugus?” He questioned no one in particular. It was Tristan who gave an answer.

  “Mikel would expect nothing less of his top lieutenant.” Walking over to the wet bar, forgoing the coffee, he helped himself to some of Finn’s finest scotch, and continued, “The dark one can’t risk the chance of us tracking back to him.”

  Made sense, of all his followers, Lugus would be the closest to Mikel therefore; the risk of being followed was high. Letting the topic drop, Finn moved on to his current conundrum: Ali. He rubbed his arm absently; it still carried heat where she had touched him. He knew she had an energy that, once combined with the others, would end the darkness of his world as well as all others. But to have this kind of effect on him, well, that baffled him. A feeling he was neither used to having, nor liked. His thoughts were interrupted by Cian.

  “Having one such as Lugus out on the battlefield, tells us that Mikel is aware that Fragment has awoken. If her energy affected you so strongly, the other Fragments will no doubt react the same way. We’ll have to approach the woman soon, before her mind can rebuild its defenses.”

  Finn scowled at his cousin’s clinical tone. “Her name is Ali, and I shouldn’t have left her alone.” Shrugging a shoulder, Cian saluted him with the glass Tristan had poured for him. If they kept this up, he’d be out of scotch. He knew Cian had known Ali’s name, his cousin just found enjoyment in harassing him.

  “Her destiny was decided long ago Finn. Stewing over the best way to go to her, to explain, only gives Lugus time to locate her. The safeguards we have provided will not prevent her energies from drifting out entirely. As for her being alone, I have a feeling finding you in her apartment would not have gone over very well.”

  His scowl deepened, but Finn knew that what Cian said was true, both about her not wanting him in her home, and about her energy. Ali would be like a beacon. It wouldn’t be long before Lugus could, and would, descend upon her. He shared this thought with the others, adding: “The first of the Fragments has been discovered. Things are going to start moving quickly now.” There was a grunt, followed by the enthusiastic declaration of Drake.

  “It’s about damn time.”

  Finn turned to him, a retort hot on the tip of his tongue. But Tristan beat him to it.

  “Feeling restless Drake?”

  With his long legs stretched out in front of him, Drake was the picture of relaxation in one of the oversized chairs. Smirking at Tristan he replied, “You bet your designer ass I am. We’ve been here for years. Engaging in petty battles, and killing unworthy opponents. Mikel has been playing us. I bet he’s been laughing his sick ass off watching us destroy the puppets he sends us.”

  In spite of the mood he was in, Finn found himself amused by Drake’s bluntness. However, he felt the need to point out that though their opponents had been unworthy, they were replaced quickly. “They were many in number, and took many forms.”

  Drake scoffed. “So, give the whack job points for creativity, just don’t give him time to scoop up the woman.”

  *****

  Lugus stood tall, his head bowed. Within the safety of his lair, Mikel had no need for a disguise. Time here had ravaged the high wizard’s body. What once was a man of impressive size and muscle was no
w no more than skin and bones. But, Lugus knew that even in this state, Mikel was still lethal. And he could still slice down those he felt were unworthy, or worse—betrayers. When they had been out on the street, the charade of a well dressed, successful mortal had been just one of Mikel’s many illusions. With his eyes steadily downcast, Lugus delivered his news. “The Fragment has been awakened. She has no idea what she is, and was quite—belligerent to my commands.”

  Mikel stared at his second in command, his black eyes burning. He had felt it when Lugus descended on the woman. Through his connection with him, he had been able to experience a small fraction of her power. And it was thrilling. “What of Agrona’s warrior—was your encounter—informative?”

  Raising his head, only giving the barest of flinches, Lugus chuckled softly. “He still relies on his blade and parlor tricks.”

  The news amused Mikel. “Ah yes—how disappointing Finn O'Shea has turned out to be. So much potential wasted, wielding steel for a woman who foolishly thought victory could be hers.” Mikel took in a deep breath. “It is time to call in the demon.”

  Lugus curled his lips back in a snarl. “Do you think that’s wise my lord? Demons have no loyalty.”

  Mikel gave the question little attention. He knew of Lugus’ disdain for the chaos demon. However, Lugus was not in charge. While it was true that demons were a fickle race, he had ensured that his demon understood her rank.

  Vega had been trapped in bindings of the Light magick of a certain warrior’s people. Her sentence had been set for all eternity. Her crimes had been ones of unholy devastation. She set about parasites to render crops useless; she prayed upon the natural urges of men: one look at her stunningly dangerous beauty, and they fought to do her biding. After which she consumed their souls, leaving behind empty shells that roamed aimlessly, their existence continued merely for her entertainment.

  She could use her voice to manipulate and destroy. Entire villages were brought to their knees, people quivered at the mention of her name. Wherever chaos went, peace could not exist, and, she was no slouch in the magick department either.

  Vega was indeed very unique and dangerous combination. Of course, she was no true match for him. Nevertheless, Mikel had found a kindred spirit in the demon. In exchange for her freedom, she had pledged her loyalty to him. To guarantee her cooperation, he had performed a binding ritual. As long as he was merciful, and she obedient, she would remain free.

  Mikel dismissed Lugus’ concerns with a flick of his wrist. “Your trepidations are noted Lugus. True, Vega can be—unstable. But much like you, Vega craves the one thing I can provide her. Handling her should be simple for one of your ilk.”

  The compliment was a veiled threat. Lugus buried his resentment. When he had defected to the dark side, not only had he been promised revenge, but also the return of something precious. Instead, he had been no more than an errand boy, scout, and now—a babysitter. His fist clenched, but he managed to keep his true feelings from showing. Mikel was not known for his compassion, “As you wish, my lord.”

  Pleased with the ready agreement, Mikel steepled his fingers and smiled. “Now, on to other business; the mortals I recruited will have the new location ready for our arrival soon. I have taken what I could from those milling about on the streets, but I need stronger energy. For too long I have lain on the sidelines.”

  “I will send out our best.” Lugus backed out of the room, before fading from sight.

  Alone, Mikel pondered over the exchange that had just taken place. He could taste Lugus’ hunger for more power. Though he portrayed a loyal servant now, Lugus had once been a leader. Providing him with an army of puppets wouldn’t keep the former protector of the Light satisfied for much longer. It had been in the throes of grief that he had managed to sway the righteous warrior to the dark side.

  It had been easy to feed Lugus falsehoods on what had really happened the day his son had died, grief had a way of blinding one to everything else but the pain. He provided Lugus with images of a fictions battle, had shown him how Agrona, and her warriors, left the adolescent venerable in the thickness of war. He twisted it until it became Lugus’ truth, making the transition to his side easy. Nevertheless, he was going to have to keep a closer eye on his commander. Mikel knew well the hunger that grew inside of him; it was just as strong as the need for vengeance. Having Vega near would certainly help keep him in check.

  Rising from his chair, Mikel glided over to the clothed mirror that hung on the wall. With a wave, the material floated to the ground. His reflection stared back at him, but he was no longer appalled at what he saw. Yes, his skin still looked sickly and his hair, once healthy and long, was now just mere patches, but, the changes were happening. He could see the improvements. His cheeks were no longer sunken in, and he could feel his body grow stronger. Soon, he will be as he once was, he wouldn’t need to rely on illusions. Standing straight, he once again covered the mirror. It was time to plan.

  Chapter Nine

  Ali flailed her arms and legs, her eyes screwed shut as she struck out at an unseen assailant. Fear, and her instinct to survive, had her clawing her way through the fog, pushing through for the light. Caught between the realm of sleep and consciousness, she fought. Not until the smell hit her did she waken. Her stomached rolled. “Oh, my, God; what is that?” She pitched her body to the side, and fell, hitting the floor hard. “Ouch. Damnit.” she rolled over and struggled to sit up.

  Slowly, she scanned her surroundings. She was in her living room, her body sagged with relief—she was home. Just how she got here, well, that was a bit fuzzy. Furrowing her brow, she tried to clear her head. Using the support of the couch, she pulled herself up, and stood on shaky legs. The slight throbbing in her ankle brought the events of yesterday flashing back, like a flip book she remembered having as a kid.

  It was like receiving a punch to the gut. The phone call with her mother, the visit to the precinct, the headache, the voice, she closed her eyes as things began to clear. A bar, she had gone to a bar and someone spilled beer on her. Then he was there. Her eyes snapped open, “Finn.” Just saying his name made her stomach flutter, and brought on a perplexing sensation of acceptance, which was completely bizarre. The man had grabbed her, and then manhandled her.

  More and more of the night’s events flooded her brain. She remembered feeling pain, and fear, but not from Finn, more for the unknown. There had been another man, a scary one. He and Finn got into a battle, she had crawled behind boxes. Next, she remembered she’d fallen, and her boot broke, and she had hurt her ankle. There had been lights, bright, flashing lights, and pain. The stench hit her again, shoving its way into to her recollection. A shower was in order, then, she would try to figure just what had happened last night—and what it could possibly mean.

  Slapping on the light in her bathroom, she counted to ten before looking at her reflection. The scream gathered in her throat. Holy Mary mother of God, she looked like she’d been dragged behind a truck, through the city dump. Her hair was matted with something she didn’t even want to hazard a guess at. Her face was smeared with dirt. Her shirt was torn in several places, and was stained beyond the capabilities of Tide. There was a faint discolouration on her collarbone. She pulled back the tattered edge of her blouse and winced. The sickly yellow hue told her that she was going to have one heck of a bruise. All at once, her body ached—all over. She couldn’t wait to sooth it under the hot spray of the shower, and maybe—just maybe, last night would wash down the drain.

  *****

  Finn sat in the cafe across the street from Ali’s building, an untouched coffee in front of him. He’d known the instant that she had awoken, having stayed connected to her to keep watch while she slept. He’d felt every emotion. In hindsight, he wished he’d taken the time to find her bedroom rather than leaving her on the couch. It had been difficult to leave her, to stay away from her—still was.

  Finn sighed and ran a hand down his face. He had to view her for what she was: a
Fragment, he believed that now. He didn’t want to venture into the deep waters of feelings, they were too dangerous. Yet, the fact that she was his Fragment, complicated things. The air rippled around him just before he heard the impatient tone of Drake’s voice.

  “What are we waiting for—an invitation?”

  Finn grimaced at the interruption. Not the least bit surprised that both he and Tristan had shown up. He felt Cian lurking in his mind as well, and cursed his cousin’s enjoyment of his situation. Pushing him out, he addressed Drake. “We are not going to just pop into her apartment.”

  “And knocking on her door is going to get us inside?” Drake snagged Finn’s coffee and proceeded to drain the contents.

  Tristan, knowing this exchange could take awhile, singled for the waitress and ordered a latte, shrugging a shoulder when Finn gave him a questioning glance.

  Finn released a heavy sigh. Ali’s last words came to him. A smile tugged at his mouth. “She threatened to kick my ass upon waking.”

  Drake shouted with laughter, reached across the table, and slapped him on the shoulder. “Damn, can’t wait to meet her.”

  Though he knew it was in jest, Finn felt irritated at Drake’s overzealous statement. Glancing over at Tristan and seeing that all knowing look, he swore. He cursed again when Tristan gave him that look, and then voiced, in his calm, matter of fact way, what had to be done.

  “We can’t afford to wait. She needs to know what’s coming. I can go to her if it would make it easier.”

  Finn didn’t need the reminder. He had to find a way to convince Ali that what she had seen, what she had heard—was all true, and that the safest place for her was with him. It was going to require more finesse then he possessed, but the idea of sending Tristan didn’t sit well with him. He was just going to have to do the best he could without suffering physical injury. Decision made, he made sure the other two understood. “I will go—alone.” He gave both of them a snort of derision and sent the same message to Cian mentally. “One sight of the two of you is likely to send her screaming to the authorities.” Not that he thought he’d fare any better, but at least Ali knew him—sort of. Leaving Tristan and Drake to wait, he faded out of sight.