A Shift in the Air

by Patricia D. Eddy

  The idea of staying in a house where everyone wanted her gone didn’t sit well. “I should go home.”

  “Please stay. I’ll take ya if ya insist, but,” he cupped her cheek and brushed his thumb over her lips, “I want ya in my bed.”

  The rough edge to his voice sent a shiver down her spine. With her hands on his broad shoulders, she rose up on her toes and kissed him. Hours of worry poured into that single kiss, and he caged her against his firm length until she pulled away to catch her breath. “Hurry back,” she whispered.

  He shut the door behind him, and she explored the space, needing to know more about the man who’d sworn to protect her. A case against one wall housed two-dozen models: some cars and planes, but mostly boats. They carried the faded paint of age, and she wondered if they’d survived from his childhood. The intricate details mesmerized her. How did such a strong man maintain the delicate touch required to stencil designs on a ship the size of her hand?

  Moving on, she raked a gaze over his workbench. The scent of new leather lingered, and she lifted a delicate braid of brown, red, and black. A flat square bore an embossed Celtic design, and she ran her fingers over the indentations.

  Everything she learned about Liam brought her closer to loving him. A stack of contracts and receipts toppled over as a bit of her element stirred, and she quickly piled them back on a small filing cabinet next to a photo of Cade, Mara, and Liam together next to a lake. She’d seen a variation of the picture in Mara’s home, and she knew now Cade and Mara had married a month ago.

  His bed beckoned her. Shit, she couldn’t remember ever being this tired. Fergus’s hold on her burned—a low simmering flame that never died. She rubbed at the spot between her breasts where she’d always envisioned her element living, for the pain concentrated there whenever Fergus called to her.

  Shedding her shoes, pants, and sweater, Caitlin burrowed under the blankets, waiting for Liam to return. She couldn’t count on another chance to sleep in his arms, in his bed. Either she’d die by Fergus’s hand, or he would.

  Chapter Twelve

  He didn’t want the dream to end. Caitlin slept in his arms, her sweet scent filling his nose and her silky locks spilling over his chest. Arousal stirred his cock. The mirage of her hand splayed over his pectoral muscle, and her fingers brushing his tattoo brought a smile to his face. Sunlight splashed over her shoulder and haloed her body in an ethereal glow.

  A tiny whimper escaped her lips and shattered the languid silence. Shite. Not a dream. Caitlin lived, and when he’d come to bed the previous night—morning—she’d curled her body to his, finding his mouth with a searing kiss. The coupling barely sated his desire; the mating call strengthened with each minute they spent together. Soon, his wolf would try to claw his way free, desperate to claim Caitlin as his own, and Liam feared he wouldn’t be strong enough to control the beast inside. He’d spent hours with his pack the previous night, begging for their assistance. In the end, Cade had to order Peter to join Liam and Caitlin in Ireland. “Do this, and I’ll release you. Consider it your last duty to your family,” Cade said, and Peter reluctantly agreed. Despite his injuries, he was a fierce fighter, and he’d explored Ireland on his own quite a bit in the months the pack hid from Katerina.

  Liam glanced over at the clock. “Caitlin?” He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “We’ve slept half the morning away, luv.”

  “I wish we had more time.” Caitlin blinked up at him, her eyes bleary with exhaustion. “I love this bed. Are you sure we have to get up?”

  He chuckled, pulled the blankets up around her shoulders, and cocooned them against the unknown looming on the horizon. “We’ve a few minutes yet. Do ya want coffee?”

  “I do, but I don’t want to let you go.” She wriggled until her forehead touched his. “Please reconsider.”

  Liam linked their fingers under the sheets and brought their joined hands to his heart. “I won’t. I’m not letting you face him alone.”

  “He’ll kill you,” she whispered.

  “Let him try.”

  Her eyes sparkled with tears, so beautiful but so sad. “He’s destroyed everything I’ve ever loved. My mum, my home, even my element. Every time I call on my air, I feel the absence of what he took from me. If he takes you too…”

  “We’re goin’ to find Farren, and then we’ll have help. Her pack, Peter—“

  “What?” Caitlin pushed up, the sheet falling away from her breasts. Her hair tumbled down over slim shoulders, and her wide eyes glowed with silver shards of ice. A breeze swirled around them, bringing her comforting, sweet scent to his nose. “He hates me. And he should.”

  “We need him. He knows Ireland almost as well as I do. Explored the whole of the western lands when we lived there. If anyone can help us find Farren…”

  At the mention of the alpha wolf, Caitlin captured her lower lip between her teeth and scrambled from the bed. Before Liam could extricate himself from the sheets, she’d pulled on her bra and panties and reached for her jeans.

  “What’s wrong?” He stilled her movements and drew her against him. Stiff in his arms, she shook her head. “Caitlin, talk to me.”

  As he slid his hand up her back to thread fingers into her hair, she melted. “You talk about her like you love her.”

  The laughter exploded before he could stop himself, and she jerked away, glaring at him. “Oh, luv, are ya jealous?”

  She snatched her socks off the hardwood floor.

  “Caitlin, look at me.” He waited for her to lift her gaze and reached out to cup her cheek when she held her breath. “I’d no sooner bed Farren than Peter. She and I have a history. Her father led a pack outside of Dublin—my da joined before he mated with my mum, and I spent my childhood runnin’ around the countryside with Farren and her beta, Colin. Thick as thieves, our folks said. And about as much trouble. She’s like a sister to me.”

  “Oh.”

  “We’re new, luv. Old and new, I suppose. But ya feel somethin’ with me, yeah?”

  “I want to love you. If I’m ever free…from Fergus…I think I’d love you.” Her voice cracked. She turned away, her shoulders hiking up to her ears, and a shudder rocked her slim frame.

  Liam slid his arms around her waist and dipped his head to nuzzle her neck. “I love ya, Caitlin. Last night, seein’ ya face the pack, the fire in your eyes when ya tried to convince me to let ya go alone to Ireland…ya have such strength now. Ya have no idea how sexy that is. We’re goin’ to stop the arse, and when ye’re free, I hope ya feel the same pull to mate as I do.”

  “I can’t walk away,” she whispered, turning in his arms to lay her head against his shoulder. Light kisses feathered over his tattoo. “I want to protect you. I want to charm you and make you forget all about me, just to keep you safe. But I can’t imagine my life without you anymore. I’m not sure I ever could.”

  They stayed locked together, neither willing to leave the refuge they’d found in each other, until the knock at the door drove them apart.

  “Liam?” Peter’s deep voice carried through the thick wood. Liam tugged on his jeans and then hurried to the door.

  “What is it?”

  Worry tightened Peter’s face, bags under his eyes weighing down his cheeks. “Cade called. They’re almost to the elemental camp, but Tierney texted him a few minutes ago. Another one of Farren’s pack disappeared.”

  “Fuck. Who?”

  “Brian Duffy. The youngest. He went out to run this morning, or—fuck, I can’t keep the time zones straight—six hours ago? He never came back. The rest of them are too scared to leave the house.”

  “Three of them left, then. Tierney, Abagail, and Ewan, yeah?”

  “Yes.”

  Caitlin pressed to Liam’s back, shaking. “We have to find a phone number for Fergus. Some way to get in touch with him. Between the flights and the layovers, we won’t arrive in Ireland for almost twenty-four hours.”

  “None of Farren’s pack—those left—have any ide
a how to find him, and they’re too scared to try,” Peter said. “But Ollie’s calling the local Garda offices. Maybe they’ll know something.”

  When Liam shut the door, Caitlin pulled away and dropped onto his futon with her head in her hands. “How many more?”

  “We’re doing all we can, luv. Fergus has to realize ye’re not in Ireland, yeah? He can’t keep killin’.”

  “There’s no logic in him when he’s off on one of his benders. He won’t care that I’m half a world away. We’ve never been this far apart before, so he might not even know. I never escaped Ireland before I ‘died.’”

  “Will he know when ya get closer? We’ve a layover in New York.” Liam linked their fingers as he took a seat beside her.

  Caitlin shrugged and tightened her grip. “I don’t know.”

  The silence stretched between them like a raging river, drowning out everything but Caitlin’s pounding heartbeat, her ragged breaths, and the scent of her fear. Liam ached to comfort her, but he feared nothing he could say would make a difference. So he rose with a final kiss to her knuckles and retrieved his suitcase from the closet.

  As he packed, Caitlin sat at his workbench and fiddled with one of the strands of leather strewn over the surface. “What do you do with this?”

  Heat crept up the back of his neck. He’d intended to give her the cuff the previous day, but he’d never found the perfect time. Now, headed off into the unknown, he gave up waiting and snagged his leather jacket off the bedpost. “Come here, luv.”

  He sat on his bed and withdrew the paper-wrapped pouch from his jacket pocket. In his ears, the rush of his own heartbeat drowned out coherent thought until he could do nothing more than thrust the package into her hands.

  “Liam?”

  Forcing a deep breath, he rubbed his hands on his thighs. “When I thought I’d lost ya last week, I couldn’t think straight. This…eased the pain. I’d have left the package outside your door, but ya wrote me that daft note about not lovin’ me, and I had to see ya instead. Open it.”

  Caitlin slid her finger under the tape, careful not to tear the paper, and unfolded the precise corners and thin layers. “Oh.”

  The sweet, rich scents of leather wafted around them as her element stirred. She lifted the cuff and dragged a fingertip over the braids, traced the lock engraved on the interior, and stroked the amber stone winking in the weak sunlight that filtered into the bedroom.

  “You remembered.”

  “That ya fancied amber as a lass? Yeah.”

  Caitlin handed him the cuff. “Will you…?” She offered him her wrist, and he lifted her hand, pressing a kiss to the soft skin, her heartbeat fluttering under his lips. With a quick flick of the delicate buttons, he secured the cuff and then released her.

  “Amber protects the wearer from pain,” she said and turned her wrist to catch the light. “You have no idea what this means to me.”

  With a quick glance at the clock on his nightstand, she laid her head against his shoulder. “I wish we had more time.”

  “We’ll have the rest of our lives, Caitlin. I’m not givin’ up on us. Not for a moment.”

  ***

  An hour later, Caitlin finished packing while Liam texted Cade and paced her small living room.

  How’s Mara?

  The phone buzzed almost immediately.

  With Eleanor. No one wants us here. I’m worried. A group showed up a few minutes ago, and they look pissed.

  Shite. If Cade and Mara couldn’t figure out how to break the charm that bound Caitlin and Fergus together or learn how to keep Mara safe, would their quest fail before it even began?

  Be safe. You’re on the first flight in the morning to Ireland?

  Cade confirmed their plans as Caitlin emerged from the bedroom, showered and dressed in a pair of black leggings and a purple sweater. Though her shadowed eyes reflected pain, she smiled when he stilled his restless movements and raked his gaze over her body.

  “Are ya ready?”

  She glanced down at the passport in her hand. “Bella Pond is.”

  “When ye’re free of him, we’ll find out who to talk to in Dublin to get papers for ya again.” Liam slid his arm around her back and let her lean against him.

  “I’d like that.”

  ***

  Caitlin accepted a second bottle of whiskey from the flight attendant and poured the amber liquid into her glass. Her thoughts wandered as Liam dozed beside her, his long legs cramped in the tight seats. The rumble of the airplane engines put him to sleep within minutes of boarding the flight from New York to Dublin—though her charm had helped him along. Peter sipped his own whiskey across the aisle and occasionally glanced at the two of them, glaring at their joined hands or the leather cuff around her wrist.

  A boy in the next row laughed at something on the in-flight entertainment system, and the tenor sounded so much like Fergus as a child that Caitlin had to peer around the seat to see the young lad’s face. He’d been kind once. Growing up together, they’d laughed, and played, and made silly childhood plans. “We’ll have a castle,” she’d said.

  “With a moat,” he’d added.

  Caitlin leaned against the window and closed her eyes. She could see him. Thick locks of black hair fell over his face. A toothy grin, desperate for braces. Lanky, awkward arms and legs, knobby knees, and hands two sizes too big for the rest of his body. They’d had such fun together before the darkness settled within him. An angry father, his mother’s death, and Caitlin’s element all tangled together to send him plummeting over the edge of reality and into madness. And he’d taken her with him.

  I can survive this.

  Fergus’s hold on her strengthened with every passing hour, and the flickering flames crackled against raw nerves, consuming her happy memories, her hope, leaving nothing but fear. Not even Liam’s unwavering strength reassured her. Caitlin’s element flourished in the skies, and unable to calm her racing mind, she wracked her fractured memories for any clue to breaking the charm, but every idea that held promise slipped through her grasp.

  Unable to keep still, she eased herself over Liam, brushing a kiss to his lips when he stirred. “Just stretching my legs,” she whispered in his ear, then sent a charm fluttering over his skin, urging him back to sleep. He settled into the seat with a groan.

  On her third trip back up the aisle, Peter stepped into her path. “Back of the plane. Now,” he hissed and jerked his thumb towards the galley.

  Liam had tried to draw Peter into conversation during their layover, and he’d done nothing but grunt one-word answers. Caitlin leaned against the wall of the fuselage, arms crossed, staring down at her boots and waiting for Peter to speak.

  “Does he really have a chance of surviving Fergus?”

  She met his dark gaze. “None of us do. Not unless I can break the charm. I’m defenseless against him—he has total control of my element when we’re close. He’ll call me, and I’ll resist for a few hours, perhaps a day, until he tracks me down and forces me to go with him.”

  Every time Fergus had caught her, the scene played out like a script. Resistance. Capture. Pain. Fear. Surrender. Then the insanity would pass, and he’d apologize, disappear for weeks or months, ashamed of his own actions, and the cycle would start again.

  Peter grabbed her arm, his fingers digging in as he leaned close enough for her to feel his alcohol-soaked breath across her cheek. “Then find a way to break the fucking thing.”

  “I’m trying! Do think I want to put Liam in danger? You? Mara and Cade?”

  He shoved her back against the wall, and his eyes flashed with the gold of his wolf. “I don’t think Bella gives a shit about anyone but herself. I just don’t know who you are anymore.”

  “I’m Caitlin,” she spat. “I’m never going to be able to make up for what happened to you. I don’t know why I went along with Katerina—other than the damn crystal she gave me, but I didn’t burn down your apartment building. I hurt your neighbor, yes, and I’ll never s
top trying to make up for that. I tried to protect Katerina in the park the day she died. But I didn’t maim you. I didn’t torture Cade or Mara. And I’ll be damned if I’m going to let you scare me into giving up on the best man I’ve ever known. If I thought the charm would work, I’d make Liam forget me and go after Fergus alone.”

  “Why can’t you?”

  “Because he loves me. Because I think he’s my mate, and that bond can’t be broken. I’ll die before I’ll let Fergus hurt him. But if I can’t take Fergus with me, then I’m depending on you to protect Liam.”

  Peter released her, and Caitlin rubbed her arm, trying to ease the throbbing pain. The ire in Peter’s eyes faded and he shoved his hands in his pockets. “He’s my brother. I’ll do my part, if you do yours.”

  With his words hanging in the air between them, Peter turned and headed back to his seat. Caitlin sagged against the galley counter and ran her fingers over the supple leather around her left wrist, offering up a silent prayer that she had the strength to escape Fergus and reclaim her element. If she could do that—if she could save herself—she might be able to save Liam.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The moment the plane landed, Liam pulled out his phone to check his messages. As he listened to his voicemail while they taxied to the gate, his lips pressed into a thin line, and his shoulders gathered with tension. His hand resting on Caitlin’s thigh curled into a fist.

  “What is it?” Caitlin whispered, panic skittering over her skin. She sensed Fergus now, stronger than in the States, but he hadn’t called to her yet. Probably still asleep. Darkness blanketed the country, with only the city lights casting the sky in a pale ethereal glow.

  Liam passed her the phone. “Press nine.”

  Cade’s strained voice chilled her. “Liam, the elemental elders tried to kill Mara. We barely got out of there with our lives. Shawn’s booked us on a red-eye to New York tonight. We’re less than eighteen hours behind you. Don’t trust anyone.”