Black Heart

by R. L. Mathewson

  His brothers were badly injured, but determined. The King’s smug smile froze on his face as his eyes quickly darted around the clearing and whatever he saw had him dropping his hold on Macha’s hair, but he didn’t move the blade away from her neck.

  Using his sword as a staff to support his weight, Tadgh quickly looked around and saw the reason why. All of the King’s men were either dead or dying. Months of running and hiding ended tonight.

  Keeping his knife firmly against his daughter’s throat, the King reached into his robes and pulled out a smooth disc shaped grey stone. Holding it over his heart, the King locked eyes with him.

  “Ye will all pay fer this, this I swear! Ye will never know peace or true happiness. Ye will forever walk this earth as slaves, never knowing a moment of peace! Ye will pay for stealing from me! Ye ruined me over this nonsense of soul mates and true love, so I curse ye all to hell and back and ye soul mates along with ye! May ye only know pain and suffering for eternity and ye soul mates suffer fer what ye did to me this day! Ye will always meet with death!” the King shouted, but none of them heard him. None of them cared for the nonsense that he shouted.

  Finn placed his hand over the stone, ripping it out of the King’s hand. “And ye as well, ye dumb bastard!”

  Quinn quickly reached down and placed his hand around the blade, separating it from Macha’s neck and taking the slice that would have ended her life too quickly. As it was, she’d only had a few precious moments left. He was about to lose her and their child, he realized. Raw agony ripped through him, tearing an unholy roar from his throat as he picked up his sword and swung, slicing the King’s neck open from ear from ear.

  “Macha,” he whispered, his heart breaking as he released the sword and dropped to his knees before her.

  “It hurts,” she cried softly as she fell to her side.

  He reached for her when his strength finally left him and he couldn’t do more than to fall to the ground. He reached for her, but couldn’t quite reach her. The inches that separated them felt like miles.

  “I know, mo shonuachar,” he said softly, welcoming the cold numbness that spread through his body.

  “Hold on, lad,” Shayne said, pulling him into his arms and further away from Macha. He tried to fight, but he didn’t have any fight left in him.

  “Do something!” Shayne demanded.

  “I’m s-scared,” Macha admitted as Finn dropped to his knees beside her, tears rolling down his blood spattered face, he reached out with trembling hands and did what Tadgh couldn’t. He took her into his arms and held her.

  “There’s nothing ta be scared of, mo shonuachar,” he told her, wishing that those were his arms wrapped around her. “I’m gonna be coming for ye.”

  “Ye promise?” she sobbed softly as her breathing became labored.

  “Aye, I do,” he said, smiling as his vision dimmed out.

  Chapter 39

  “Everything will be fine,” Beth said softly to herself, to her or the men looking like the rug had been pulled out from beneath them, she didn’t know.

  She also couldn’t hold it together for a minute longer if she had to sit here. She needed space away from the oppressive grief that threatened to overwhelm and destroy her. There was a way out of this and she needed to figure it out quickly and she wouldn’t be able to do that if she stayed here a minute longer.

  “Where are you going?” Denny asked, looking worse than the last time they’d all gathered in this room while they’d waited for the surgeon to tell them that everything would be fine.

  “I need to use the bathroom,” she mumbled, trying to give him a smile and failing miserably.

  Denny nodded as he stood. “I’ll go with you.”

  “I’ll be fine,” she said, grabbing her purse.

  Quinn, Finn, and Aidan shifted their circle of protection, widening it as they prepared to move with her. She was glad that they were here and that they’d refused to let her out of their sight. It made getting them alone so that she could question them about this curse easier. She needed to know exactly what was said, who said it and what they were doing when they said it. She needed-

  “Oh, fuck no,” Finn groaned softly, drawing her attention to him.

  Frowning, she looked past him to see a very large and handsome man with short, slightly wavy jet-black hair, and beautiful green eyes walk down the wide hallway towards them. She was about to ask what was wrong when she realized something.

  Those were Tristan’s eyes.

  “No, no, no,” she said, shaking her head as she stepped back away from the truth and heartache that was heading straight for her.

  “Marty?” Her father reached for her, but she shoved his hands away, desperate to get away.

  “Macha,” the man coming for her said with an Irish brogue that confirmed her fears.

  “No! No! No!” she cried, stumbling back as her father, Tom and Denny tried to grab her, but she shoved them away. “Please, God, no!”

  “Shhhh, mo shonuachar,” he said soothingly as he reached for her.

  “Calm down, Marty!” her father pleaded, his voice breaking as he wrapped his arms around her. She fought him, needing to get away from the man watching her with kind eyes. If she could put some space between them and keep him from touching her then this wasn’t really happening.

  Tristan wouldn’t be dead.

  “Shit!” her father snapped when she kicked and struggled to get away from him.

  “Can we get some goddamn help here?” Denny snapped as he grabbed Marty by her legs and helped take her to the ground.

  “Relax, sweetheart,” the man with Tristan’s eyes said softly as he reached out and cupped her face.

  She closed her eyes as she shook her head, tears ran down her face as the first sob broke free. “Please!” she begged softly.

  “Yer okay, mo shonuachar,” he said as she felt his lips brush against hers. “It’s not yer time yet.”

  “Please don’t leave me, Tristan,” she sobbed softly. “Please don’t leave me.”

  “Never.”

  *-*-*-*

  “What the fuck is that beeping?” Fergus demanded even though they all knew what that meant.

  Not even a minute earlier they’d all watched as their brother left his body. Those kind, too goddamn forgiving eyes had locked with his. With a sad smile and a small flicker of his hand, Tadgh had covered his naked form with clothes and walked out of the operating room in search of his young bride.

  “He’s dead,” Liam said flatly as they watched doctors and nurses race around the room, shooting drugs into Tristan’s IVs in between shocking him and pushing air into his lungs in the hopes that they could restart his heart.

  No one said anything else as they watched the men and women work in vain to save Tristan’s life. There was no point really, the curse had him and would soon have his wife. They’d be forced to watch her die once again and at that moment he wanted to hate Tadgh, but he just couldn’t.

  This wasn’t his fault. It was the fault of the murderous bastard who had gotten off too easily so long ago. They should have made his death last for days before they allowed him any release. They should have-

  “They’re keeping his body alive?” Declean asked, sounding curious and cutting into his thoughts.

  “Aye,” He nodded, having watched enough television and movies to know that was exactly what they were doing. It wouldn’t help, not in Tristan’s case, but he appreciated the effort nonetheless.

  “Tadgh died, right?” Declean asked, sounding thoughtful.

  “Aye,” Liam said with a slight nod.

  “Then……then the curse claimed him?” Declean asked, starting to irritate him.

  “Aye, lad! Do ye really need to have this explained after all this time?”

  Declean simply shook his head. “I don’t, but a thought just occurred to me that’s all,” he said with a shrug.

  “What’s that?” Liam asked, his eyes never leaving Tristan’s face.

&nbs
p; “It’s just that he died and the curse claimed its due for this life. They’re keeping his body alive, so what’s to stop us from putting Tadgh back inside? I don’t think the curse can claim him twice in one lifetime, can it?”

  Shayne looked up and met Liam’s gaze. “Is it possible, do ye think?” he asked, trying not to hope for the impossible.

  “There’s only one way to find out,” Liam said with a determined glint in his eyes before he disappeared.

  “Guard him,” he told Fergus as he followed after his brother, damn near feeling giddy at the prospect of finally getting one over on this curse.

  *-*-*-*

  “How are you still here?” she asked, remembering what they were told last night. He wasn’t supposed to be here. Once he died he was supposed to be ripped away from her.

  “I’m not sure, mo shonuachar,” he said with a kind smile, his hand continued to caress her stomach. “But it might be best not to speak to me, lass, or they’ll think yer crazy,” he said with a wink, trying to tease her into smiling, but it didn’t work and she didn’t care.

  She wanted Tristan back. She wasn’t ready to say goodbye to him, to live even a single minute without him. They still had time left, she could feel it down in her soul.

  “There has to be a way,” she said, ignoring the concerned looks of everyone around her.

  “There’s not, lass. Believe me, we’ve tried everything,” he gently explained. “The only thing left to do is let ye go now, Macha.”

  “No! Please!” she said, trying to reach for him, but she couldn’t move, not with her father’s arms wrapped tightly around her.

  “It’s the only way,” Tadgh said with a sad smile. “I can’t keep putting ye and our child through this, mo shonuachar. This has to end now.”

  “No! Just one more time! Please! We can do this!” she cried as she felt her heart start to shatter and break.

  “I need ye to be strong, lass. I need ye to go on without me for this child,” he said, giving her stomach a gentle caress.

  She tried to speak, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t go on without him, didn’t want to and she knew at that moment that the curse had its grips on her. She wouldn’t last long without him and there was nothing that she could do about it.

  As her father held her in his arms, rocking her gently as he swore to her that everything would be okay, she numbly watched as Liam and Shayne appeared on either side of Tristan’s soul and with a firm nod, grabbed him by the arms and disappeared, leaving her with the grief that was swallowing her whole.

  *-*-*-*

  “Let me go!” Tadgh shouted as they materialized in the operating room.

  “Sure thing,” Shayne murmured, praying that this worked. With a nod, they picked Tadgh up and slammed him down into his body.

  They watched him for several minutes, praying that something, anything would happen. This had to work, needed to work. Hell, he didn’t know what he would do if it didn’t work. A tiny beep was the only warning that any of them received before one of the most terrifying things that he’d ever witnessed occurred.

  Tristan’s body arched off the table, startling everyone working on him, but the unholy roar that he released as he slammed back down on the table terrified them. Seconds passed as everyone stared at the body in shock, the solid beep quickly becoming separate sounds as Tristan’s heart started to work on its own.

  Shayne watched with amusement as a nurse’s eyes rolled back into her head seconds before she swayed and dropped to the ground. The other humans barely spared her a glance, their gazes remained locked on Tristan’s still body.

  “What the hell was that?” his surgeon asked, looking stunned as he stood over Tristan’s body, the paddles he’d been about to place on Tristan’s chest still clutched tightly in his hands.

  “That was us kicking this fucking curse’s ass,” Shayne said smugly, butting fists with a grinning Declean as he made his way out of the operating room.

  He needed to tell Marty that everything was going to be okay and he meant to do just that, but he couldn’t. He needed a moment to….

  He just needed a moment.

  He wanted to go home, throw on the television and blast it to help clear his head, but he couldn’t leave the hospital. Tristan and Marty were too vulnerable right now and his brothers were going to need help keeping them safe. He needed noise, lots of it and preferably cries of pain or pleasure, it didn’t matter. Both would work, always had.

  “Aye, that’s much better,” he sighed as the screams of the drunk arguing with the triage nurse reached his ears. The rest of the background noise was like music to his ears.

  It wasn’t as loud as he preferred, but he’d take what he could get at the moment. They weren’t as good as porn movies, but they would have to do. The fake groans, moans, screams of pleasure and horrible music were the perfect substitutes for the sounds of the old war camps.

  The noises of fighting, arguing men getting into drunken shouting matches and the sounds of the camp whores screaming in pleasure once served as a sort of lullaby for him. While some men lost themselves in their drink or between the legs of a woman, he’d lost himself in sounds, loud, unpredictable sounds.

  He’d always done his best thinking in loud places. They comforted him, probably because pure silence scared the living shit out of him. It always reminded him of-

  “Oh, fuck,” he groaned, grabbing his side as a cramp shot through his lung.

  Another cramp, and then another more powerful cramp shot through his lungs, dropping him on his ass as he struggled with some unknown need. His lungs were on fire and felt like they were going to explode. Something wasn’t right. Something was really fucking wrong.

  The curse.

  Shit!

  He needed to get to Tristan. He needed to figure out a way to spare his brother anymore pain. He needed to-

  “Hey, buddy, you might want to put some clothes on.”

  Chapter 40

  “W-what?” the rather delicious male specimen said, adding to his sex appeal with an Irish brogue that nearly distracted her from her purpose here, almost.

  She allowed her eyes to run down his rather impressive body, lingering here and there before finally looking up and meeting killer green eyes. “People are starting to stare,” she said with a shrug as she reached past him and grabbed a folded white sheet off a cart and shook it open. “Not that I can blame them,” she added with a wink as she laid the sheet over his lap.

  Gasping for air like he’d just run a marathon, his brows curled up in confusion as he looked around the busy waiting room. “Ye can see me?” he asked, making her sigh in disappointment.

  Minus ten points for insanity.

  “Yes,” she said, wondering if she should help him to the emergency room or up to the lockdown unit upstairs for the mentally challenged.

  “Ye shouldn’t be able to see me.”

  Locked unit it was then. Decision made, she stood up and looked around the busy waiting room until she spotted what she needed by some frat boy pressing a bloodied towel to his face. She made her way over to the wheelchair, ignoring the way the frat boy leered at her ass and rolled it over to the poor, hot nut job currently trying to stand up.

  “Have a seat,” she said, gesturing to the wheelchair.

  “I can walk,” he ground out, leveling a glare on her as he moved to prove just that, but he didn’t make it very far before his legs gave out on him and he almost fell back on his very fine ass.

  With a sigh, she wrapped her arm around his waist and helped him to the chair. She really didn’t have time for this good Samaritan crap today, but what choice did she have? He was too screwed up in the head to take care of himself and the only hospital staff manning the ER waiting room was the triage nurse too busy arguing with some jackass in an expensive suit who was demanding that he be seen immediately, to help. That left it up to little old her to drop this insane hunk off at the psych ward.

  “I could have walked,” he grumbled irritab
ly as she pushed him down the hall towards the elevators.

  “Yes, I’m sure that you could have,” she said dryly.

  “Sarcasm?” he growled out, earning two points, because really that voice of his was really delicious and if she didn’t need to be somewhere, soon, she’d probably push him down to the gift shop and buy a romance novel. She’d sucker him into reading all the really naughty scenes to her, but alas she didn’t have that kind of time.

  “Me? Sarcastic? Never,” she said distractedly as she studied the hospital directory.

  “What are ye looking for?” he asked, sounding suspicious.

  “The lockdown unit,” she murmured, wondering if it was labeled under a codename because she couldn’t for the life of her find it listed on the hospital directory.

  “I’m not insane,” he bit out.

  “Uh huh.”

  “I’m not!”

  “No, no of course you’re not. It’s perfectly normal to stroll around the emergency room buck naked and thinking that you’re invisible.”

  “I am not insane!” he snapped, moving to climb out of the wheelchair, but one well placed shove from her had him sitting back down like a good boy, a good boy who grumbled and bitched, but that was fine with her as long as he behaved himself.

  “Uh huh, doesn’t matter anyways, because it looks like it’s the emergency room for you,” she said, moving to turn the wheelchair around and take him back to the ER.

  “I’m not hurt, lass,” he said, moving to get up and this time when she tried to keep him in the chair, he shrugged off her touch and climbed out of the chair, a bit stiffly, but this time he managed to stand on his own two feet.

  She shrugged as she pushed the wheelchair away and pressed the up button for the elevator. “Then you’re on your own, cupcake. I have someone that I need to talk to.”

  “I don’t need help,” he grated out as he looked around and when he saw a cart filled with folded blue scrubs, he dropped the sheet, giving her a beautiful memory.

  It really was a shame that he was insane, she thought with a sigh as she watched him pull on a pair of scrub bottoms that were a little too short and a bit snug around one of the best asses that she’d ever seen. Glaring at her like this was somehow her fault, he grabbed a white tee shirt and pulled it on. The shirt was tight, encasing perfectly sculptured muscles and making a girl wish that she could forget that he was insane.