‘That’s not true. You’re the best of mates.’ She stroked his face. He leaned into her touch.
‘You’re both overextended,’ Jason said. ‘You’ve not truly left this room since Ostara, and that’s not good.’ He looked at River. ‘It’s not good for your wolf.’ He turned to Bron. ‘And it’s not good for your powers. You need not only rest, but time spent out in nature, recharging. You can’t do that properly in here. Cordy wouldn’t thank you for it and neither would Adam.’
‘Pot, kettle, black.’ Bron gave him a look. ‘You’ve been here as much as I have. But you’re right.’ She straightened, took a deep breath and waved her hand. ‘We all need to take a break. I as your healer command it.’
‘But …’ Jason began.
She smirked at him. ‘Uh-uh-uh. You know in instances of pack health that my word outweighs yours.’
‘That’s my mate,’ River said, lips twisting into a smile. ‘Put the Alpha in his place.’
Jason glared at him, but then softened it with a smile. ‘Okay. You’re right. I’ll call June. She and Alistair and Ingrid can organise a roster to come sit with Adam and Cordy for the next twenty-four hours while we get some R and R.’
Bron lifted her finger and waggled it at him. ‘No sneaking back.’
‘Same to you,’ Jason said.
‘I’ll make sure she doesn’t come back until tomorrow.’
‘And I’ll call Skye and make sure she keeps you away until then as well.’ Bron crossed her arms, a satisfied smile on her face.
Jason brightened. ‘Skye should be back from Melbourne by now. I wonder what the doctor said about her tummy bug.’
Bron snorted. ‘I think you’re dreaming if you think she went to the doctor.’
Jason sighed. ‘You’re right. Can you check her out later if she didn’t?’
‘Sure, but you’ll owe me a big drink after. We all know she’s the worst patient on the face of the planet.’
‘She might be a little more malleable now she’s had some time checking on her business and is bringing Tom back up here,’ River suggested.
‘Have you met your sister?’ Bron asked.
River chuckled and Jason said, ‘I’ll bring two bottles from my own personal collection.’
‘Nice,’ Bron said.
Jason made the call. Ten minutes later, June and Alistair arrived, ready and more than willing to take up duty looking over their loved coven leader and the man who was felled fighting alongside their Alpha.
***
Adam watched Jason, Bron and River leave. A few of the other spirits went with them, including Adeline, who seemed to spend a lot of her time hanging around Bron. Marcus, of course, stayed. He’d been there every time Adam came back to check if the mysterious lady had come back yet. Adam could understand that Marcus didn’t want to leave Cordy’s side, even if it wasn’t their way to hang around after death. He rather thought he’d do the same. He even understood why Marcus’ attention was solely centred on Cordy and he had ignored every attempt Adam had made to communicate. Not that Marcus would be useful to him anyway. There was no chance he knew anything about the ancient witch Arianrhod said had the answers he wanted about what was going on. No, he really needed one of the older spirits.
He turned back to the room. There were fewer spirits here than the last time he visited. Maybe they’d been attracted by the excitement, the death, and now that was gone and things were quiet, they had gone to find amusement elsewhere. Maybe they’d gone to find Shelley—although there hadn’t been many spirits around her lately either, which was why he’d come up here at her suggestion because she still hadn’t found anything in the diaries that could help them heal him or about who this ancient witch might be. He wished he could ask one of the spirits here if she’d been back or not, but if wishes were fishes and all that. Shelley would have to come up here sooner rather than later if they were to find any useful information. He’d been trying to save her from that, but it looked like there was going to be no other alternative.
Pain. In. The. Arse.
He’d had such high hopes today. The spirits had been a little agitated when he’d arrived. He’d thought maybe there was a special reason. But no. They were just chattier than usual. With each other. Not with him.
A big grade-A bummer of a wasted trip. Especially as he didn’t like to be away from Shelley. It had already been too long. He needed to get back to her now.
Just the thought of her made the world around him change and then he was standing in a bathroom.
The bathroom in Shelley’s house. There was a noise behind him and he turned. The air left his lungs in a whoosh.
She was at the basin, nothing but a towel wrapped around her as she dried her hair with another towel. His mouth went dry and he could do nothing but stare—and hope to god the towel dropped a little lower. Her skin was the most amazing golden shade, smooth and silken and calling to be stroked. His fingers itched just at the thought. Water drops glistened on her shoulders. He wanted to lick those up like nectar, little laps before sweeping his tongue up to her ear, rimming that perfect shell then making his way back down her neck to where he could see her pulse thrumming under her skin. His teeth ached with the need to bite down on that spot, to claim her, just as he’d wanted to claim her the first time he’d seen her in that bar up at Mt Buller the year before.
She picked up a hair dryer and started blow drying her hair, the thick, golden-honey strands blowing away from her face, just like in those ridiculous shampoo commercials she always laughed at. The whir of the hair dryer and the constant wind around him wasn’t enough to cover the sound of her voice. It came through as clear as a bell. She was humming a tune. It was slightly off key, but he recognised it. ‘Suicide Blonde’.
His lips curled. That was until he looked at her face in the mirror. She was crying.
Holy hell! Was she crying over him? He knew his Kitten had teeth—she rarely showed anything but those teeth to him—but right now he saw nothing but soft vulnerability, an eternal sadness darkening the startling violet-blue of her eyes. Hand stretched out to touch, to comfort, he took a jerky step forward.
Her gaze collided with his in the mirror. ‘Adam!’ she shrieked, dropping the hair dryer. ‘What the hell are you doing here?’ The noise of the hair dryer as it whirred around the basin echoed around the bathroom, almost obscuring her words. With a curse, she turned it off, swiped the tears from her face and turned to him, eyes narrowed, crossed arms securing the towel firmly in place—damn!
‘Adam!’
He blinked and looked up from staring at her crossed arms. ‘What?’
‘How long have you been standing there?’ She blushed as she saw the answer on his face. But the embarrassment only lasted for a moment. ‘You can’t just pop into someone’s bathroom. How many times do I have to go over this with you morons? There is such a thing as privacy and I need you to respect mine.’
‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to. I just thought of you for a second and then I was …’ He stopped, backtracking over what she’d just said. ‘You morons? Plural. So not just me.’
‘Yes. Not just you.’
A hot curl of anger burned in his lungs. ‘Spirits have watched you while you’re in the bathroom?’ He looked around, couldn’t see any. Which was just as well, because he’d have to find some way of smacking their faces for seeing what even he hadn’t seen yet, and invading her privacy in such a way.
She threw her hand out. ‘Well they’re not here now, because they’ve learned not to come near me when I’m in the bathroom, or on the toilet or getting dressed.’
‘They’ve dropped in when you’re on the toilet?’
‘Yes. They have. Worse than that though, they’ve popped in when I’ve been with a man. It’s a passion killer when you open your eyes and see someone staring at you from across the room.’
‘Spirits have seen you having sex?’ His fingers clenched, itching to hit something. ‘Bloody peeping Toms.’ There was nothing to hit, so
he kicked at the bath mat on the floor. It flew up and sailed through the air.
Shelley’s mouth dropped open. ‘How the hell did you do that?’
He looked surprised. ‘I didn’t know I could.’
‘Try to touch something else.’ He raised his hand towards her. ‘Not me, you idiot. Lift the hairdryer out of the basin.’
She moved out of the way, careful not to touch him as usual. Ignoring that little curl of hurt, he reached for the hair dryer. His hand went through it. He tried again. Again. Again. ‘Bloody fucking shit.’ He swiped at it. His hand connected with the handle, sending it flying out of the basin, skittering over the bench to crash onto the floor. A large piece of the plastic nose broke off and scooted across the floor. He looked up at her sheepishly, the anger dissolving. ‘Ah, sorry about that.’
‘You were angry then.’
‘Yes. Well, more frustrated than angry, but a little angry too.’
‘And you were angry when you flipped the bath mat up.’
‘Of course I was. The idea that ghosts have invaded your privacy like that …’
She lifted her hand up. ‘So, it seems you can touch and move things when you’re angry.’
‘I guess.’
‘You’re angry when you touch me?’
‘No!’ He took a step towards her, horrified she might think that. ‘No. That’s something else entirely. I don’t know why I can feel you and you can feel me. I’ve tried to touch others at times, but apart from the odd occasion, it hasn’t worked. Not like with you.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘A few of the others have responded to me like they heard me or sensed me and occasionally, felt my touch. But they couldn’t really see me, and what little they felt or heard wasn’t enough to hold their attention.’
‘Who have you tried touching?’
‘Bron. Iain and Eloise. Jason.’
‘I thought you didn’t want him to know you were like this.’
‘I don’t. Not yet. Although, given we’re not having any luck with finding out information, we might have to tell them soon.’
‘Why? What’s changed?’
He shrugged, but her gaze narrowed on him, head tipped to the side like she could see into the heart of him. ‘It’s horrific being invisible to everyone and not being able to talk with any of them.’
‘I see you. I talk to you.’
‘Yes, and that fact has kept me sane.’ She blanched at the word and he wished he could pull it back. ‘I’m sorry.’
She shook her head. ‘It’s okay. I know what you mean. It’s not nice to feel like you’re alone in this world.’
‘No.’
They stared at each other for an age, or what could have been seconds, until Shelley finally broke the moment by taking a step back. ‘I need to get dressed.’
‘You look fine to me.’
She rolled her eyes, took a step towards him, stopped. ‘Well?’
‘Well what?’
She gestured towards the door. He was blocking it. She could squeeze past, but the bathroom wasn’t big enough for her to do it without brushing right up against him. Given her apparent aversion to touching him, he stepped back and gestured. ‘After you.’
He followed her into her bedroom. She went over to a large, dark wood chest of drawers and pulled out some underwear from the top drawer, then a soft wool top from the one below it and a pair of jeans from the bottom drawer. Turning around, the clothes bundled against her chest, helping to pin the towel in place, she moved back to the bathroom. ‘Stay here. I’ll be back out in a minute.’
The ensuite door closed behind her and he was alone. In her room. Shelley’s room. He’d often imagined being in here. Of course, in those dreams she was here with him, getting undressed, not dressed behind the closed door of the ensuite. And the circumstances were completely different. In his imagination, she begged him to touch her rather than avoid it at all costs. And of course, in his imagination, he hadn’t been a not-shade spirit-thingy. ‘Whoever said dreams come true was a great big fucking liar.’
‘What was that?’ Shelley asked as she came back into the room.
‘Nothing. Just talking to myself. I seem to be doing that a lot now given you’re the only one who can hear me.’
‘And that other spirit woman.’
‘Yes. Speaking of which.’ He began to tell her about his visit to the McClune caves and what he’d discovered there. As he spoke, her eyes widened and she sank to the bed. When he was finished, she sat there in silence for a little while, then looked up at him. ‘So, I really am going to have to go up there to speak to them.’
‘Adeline should possibly be your first port of call and she won’t hurt you like the others.’
She snorted. ‘That’s if she doesn’t try to take me over again.’
‘I don’t think she’d do that.’ She arched her brow at him. ‘Well, I hope she wouldn’t do that.’
‘Hmm.’ She caught her bottom lip in between her teeth and looked pensively into space for a long moment. ‘If I go up there, you’re right, I will have to tell Jason and the others about you.’
Adam swallowed slowly. ‘Yes.’ He wasn’t looking forward to it. But he hoped, if they did it the right way, then his brother would be relieved rather than feel more grief. At least, that’s what he was hoping for.
Shelley pulled her boots on. ‘What are you doing? You don’t have to go now.’
She looked up at him. ‘No. But before I do, I want to read more of the diaries. I want to face him with some reasons why this might be happening, and if that’s not possible, I want to be able to ask Adeline about a few things and I just want to double check my understanding before I do.’ She stood. ‘One way or the other, Adam, we’ll have some answers soon. I promise.’
She was so sincere, the tigress he loved sinking back behind a world of sadness and worry. ‘I don’t want you to hold yourself responsible if you can’t find a solution for me.’
‘I won’t.’ He knew she was lying, could smell it on her as she headed to the door. She would blame herself. Was already doing so. She’d been crying over him.
He wouldn’t forget that. Couldn’t. Even though he’d been blocked from the bond with his wolf, he still felt the echo of it in his soul—and it was howling at the pain all this was going to bring to her. He had to find some way of making her okay with all of this. It was essential to more than his equanimity—it was essential to her well being.
Chapter 8
‘Will you stop pacing. I can’t concentrate when you pace like that.’
Cain stopped and swivelled to face Morrigan. She hadn’t even looked at him. She was still sitting in the same position she’d been in for the last few hours, hands on either side of the basin, staring at the clear surface within. ‘Can you see anything?’
‘Not yet.’
‘But you’ve been looking for hours.’
Her eyelash began to flicker, like she had a tic. ‘Sometimes it takes hours. Magic isn’t always easy. Sometimes, we have to work for it.’
‘But you usually scry with no problems. At least, you haven’t had problems in the past.’
‘No, I haven’t. But then, I haven’t been up against four powerful witches who are on guard against me.’
‘You can hardly blame me for that.’
The tic got stronger. ‘No? And who else should I blame?’
‘Yourself.’
Her lashes stopped flickering, and then slowly, so slowly, she lifted her head to look at him.
In the past, that look would have sent him scrambling away in terror after apologising profusely for disturbing and upsetting her. But now he straightened and met her gaze. She might be older and know more spells, but she wasn’t more powerful than him. Not anymore. Not now the voice of the Darkness whispered in his ear, directly to him, not just to her.
Don’t let her talk to you like that.
He lifted his chin. ‘You made me become a Shade. Made me force Eloise to bring m
e back with her blood.’
‘I didn’t make you do anything. You agreed with me.’
Did you? You tried to argue against her. Don’t let her only tell her side of the story.
‘I was afraid of you, so I would hardly call my doing as you bid “agreement”. We were hardly on equal ground then, were we?’
‘And we’re on equal ground now, are we?’
‘Yes. Neither of us got what we wanted that night.’
Her brow cocked, her fingers twitching next to the bowl. The water began to bubble. ‘Really? The fact that you got an extra charge of power when your twin came into her own—that wasn’t something that you wanted? I would think you would be grateful for that, at least.’
She didn’t give that to you. You got that for yourself.
He let a smile twist the side of his mouth. ‘I am grateful, but it wasn’t what you promised. Not even close. My sister was supposed to be with us now. Her full powers were supposed to be twined with mine, making me even more powerful.’
‘Making us more powerful.’
‘Yes. Us. But it didn’t work, did it?’
Her lips twitched and the water in the bowl began to boil. ‘Nothing worked as it should that night. How was I to know that your sister actually had a spine? That she’d fight you? There was no way I could have known that would happen.’ She tilted her head to the side, her eyes completely black now. ‘She is your twin. You should have known. You should have guessed that might have happened and told me.’ Her fingers twitched and the bowl began to rotate, faster and faster, lifting off the table, the water bubbling over the side.
‘That would be more impressive if I couldn’t do this.’ He flicked his own finger. The bowl exploded. Water flew into the air, shards of pottery flying everywhere, but before it could hit her, it turned into steam and the pottery itself turned into nothing but a blast of dirty sand that flew around her.
You’re both so powerful. More powerful when you let your anger rise. Even more powerful if you come together. Especially today at the height of Beltane. It is the night of the bright fires. Light the spark that’s in you both. Use the power of this day to create something special between you. Allow it to augment what you still have from your twin. I promise that something will grow from the spark you ignite tonight that will help to give you both what you long for. You have always hungered for her. Reach out and take what has always been yours, my child, my brother, my father.
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