“Lawrence, I’m reporting from Unst. With me on satellite is Inspector Ritchie of the Unst police. Hvitmar is the northernmost point in Shetland, unpopulated, and until now fairly quiet. It has now been closed to the public due to last week’s violent quake. Archaeologists had been excavating what was thought to be a Viking ruin on Hvitmar, and authorities say there were a number of deaths. Inspector Ritchie, what can you tell us?”
“We’re continuing to investigate at this point, Madeline. We know of three fatalities, but we have no further information at this point due to the island’s instability. We intend to keep working until we’ve fully completed the investigation.”
“Thank you, Inspector. Back to you, Lawrence.”
Lawrence buzzed on like a nagging mosquito. Sara woke fully, blinking in the glare of fluorescent lights. The hospital room came into focus, but the blind spot hadn’t gone away. Her headache had dulled to a persistent heaviness behind her eyes.
She was alone in the room with her grief.
It choked her.
She angled her head, and saw the television mounted on the wall. A polished, suit-clad news anchor glanced down at his stack of papers. The view cut to a smiling photograph of Ian. She couldn’t bear to look at the image, but neither could she wrest her eyes away. “...In related news, American biologist Ian Waverly is thought to have discovered a nesting pair of endangered Eurasian peregrine falcons on Hvitmar—”
“Thought, nothing.”
Ian’s voice. She stopped breathing for a long, suspended minute.
Ian balanced in the doorway, panting, on a pair of crutches, then adjusted a brace on his knee. She closed her eyes, unable to stand the hollow ache. A dream, she told herself, heartsick.
But when she looked again, he was still there. She gave a strangled cry and pushed into a sitting position.
When he saw her awake, the joyous expression that flooded his face left no room for doubt. He flung his crutches down with a clatter and staggered to the bed. His leg gave out and he dropped beside her, smothering her in a hug and pressing his face hard into her hair.
“You’re alive,” she said on a sob. “You’re alive! Oh, God, Ian.” Anything else she meant to say dissolved into tears. She hugged him close, willing it to be true, terrified to let go of him and find out otherwise.
He drew a shuddering breath against her ear. His hands came up to thread into her hair as though he, too, wanted to be sure he wasn’t dreaming. “I love you, Sara. I always have, and always will. Marry me. Now, right now, before anything else happens.”
Crying, she kissed him everywhere she could reach, then cupped his face in her hands to look at him to be certain it was really him.
“You didn’t answer me,” he said, then smiled. “Our baby needs a father, doesn’t she? I want to be there for her...and you.”
Sara’s heartbeat did a quick flutter, and she raced to absorb the impact of his words. “She? You know?” She didn’t even know what it would be.
His smile twitched. Ian slid a hand between them to rest on her still-flat belly. He kissed her. “I don’t want to lose either of my girls.”
Sniffling, she hugged him close. “You never will. I love you, Ian Waverly, and I can’t wait to be your wife.”
****
Four weeks later, Sara stood in her office studying the newly hung wedding portrait on her office wall. She angled her head first one way, and then the other. She’d never get rid of the blind spot, but she didn’t need to. Not with the range of senses her powers gave her. A tiny price to pay for what she had now.
The wedding hadn’t been large on such short notice, but a simple ceremony in Central Park had been more than enough. “I think you look fine in a tuxedo.”
Ian’s arm came around her waist from behind. “We all know who the pretty one was, honey, and it wasn’t me.” He pushed aside a lock of her hair to nibble at her earlobe.
“That way lies trouble, mister.” She giggled and batted at his roving hands.
He chuckled.
Someone knocked at the door. “Sara?” came Faith’s voice through the heavy oak.
Her new husband gave a reluctant sigh.
“Come in,” Sara called.
The door swung open and her sister ducked in. “Lamb’s here to see you. Hi, Ian.”
“Hey, Faith.” Ian kissed Sara on the cheek. “I have to drop off some of these pictures to Mom. Want a sandwich for dinner tonight?”
“Stick around,” Faith said. “This concerns you, too.”
Ian shrugged and sat in one of the office’s armchairs.
Sara watched him sink back into the plushy chair. Good grief, he looked cute, just sitting there. He wanted to honeymoon in Yellowstone when his knee healed.
She wanted to lock her door and honeymoon right there in her office.
Lambertson strode in with Becky and Holly in tow. Faith came in and closed the door behind them. Lamb maintained a businesslike air, but Sara caught the affectionate gleam in his eye and returned it in kind. She sat on the arm of Ian’s chair. Ian took her hand, and she threaded her fingers through his.
“I’ll get right to the point. Here is what we know,” Lamb said, setting a briefcase on her desk. “Nicholas Flintrop, Alan’s father, has been arrested for conspiracy to commit murder. Shetland and Scotland police have been tracking a series of cultlike murders for the past few years, and Nicholas and Alan finally left enough tracks for them to follow.”
Sara nodded. Robert Markham had only been the first of a string of victims who couldn’t be made to cooperate with the plan to rebuild the druid order. Ian’s father, and at least two other men, had paid with their lives for standing against the Flintrop family.
Lamb sat on the desk, looking grim. “What these arrests mean to you all is that Flintrop, L.L.C. is back under direction of the grandfather, Elliott. He’s lost a grandson, and now his son, and he’s not getting any younger. He’s going to be at odds with Gemini, and he’ll be looking for an heir to run the business. I expect whoever replaces him to be equally hostile. Elliott was never known for his leniency, and he’ll handpick the man to follow him. I suggest you watch yourselves.”
Sara exchanged a concerned look with Ian, and then her sister.
“Now, on to the next point of my trip,” Lamb added. “Alan Flintrop left an encrypted file at the Flintrop offices containing the names and whereabouts of two gifted individuals. We need to find these people. Becky has already located one in Kentucky, a young girl. Eurocon’s contact at the Flintrop offices has found the other in Australia. Faith, you’re on the Australia project. Sara, I know you and Ian have other things on your mind right now—”
Faith snorted. “When don’t they?”
“—but,” Lamb continued with a mock-stern glance at Faith, “I’d like you to go there, and contact the girl. She’s living on the streets, and the sooner you find her, the better. These people need to know we’re here to help them if they need us. I’d rather not find out if Elliott has plans for them before we get to them.”
“We’re on it,” Ian said, squeezing Sara’s hand. “I have the rest of my vacation before I start teaching in the fall.”
Sara smiled down at him, and her heart swelled with pride. Once they’d discovered the truth behind his father’s death, Ian had vowed to protect others from the same fate, if he could.
He’d become quite a celebrity in wildlife circles, too. His publication on the Eurasian peregrines had helped him toward his tenure, and several naturalist groups were now calling to turn Hvitmar into a wild bird sanctuary. Shetland bird enthusiasts had even reported Horus and Hathor’s first chicks.
He’d gained his dream and given her so much more. He had turned her life upside-down and made her believe in the power of love and acceptance. He’d changed everything.
He must have seen the loving look on her face, because he hooked his arm around her waist and rubbed the barely-there swell of her abdomen. They’d already begun discussing names and baby furnit
ure. Whatever happened next, she knew they had each other to see it through.
For once in her life, she truly felt a sense of belonging. People who cared about her knew what she was, and accepted her in spite of it. She and her sister weren’t alone.
Now, she could pass that sense of sanctuary on to others who needed it every bit as much as she had. She looked across the office at Faith and grinned.
Gemini had a whole new sideline.
A word about the author...
Nicki Greenwood graduated SUNY Morrisville with a degree in Natural Resources. She found her passion in writing stories of romantic adventure, and combines that with her love of the environment. Her works have won several awards, including the Rebecca Eddy Memorial Contest. Her first book, EARTH, debuted in 2010 through The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
Nicki lives in upstate New York with her husband, son, and assorted pets. When she's not writing, she enjoys the arts, gardening, interior decorating, and trips to the local Renaissance Faire.
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