“No, I didn’t,” Cara said. “I have no idea how to do that. I’ve never even heard of that!” And she hadn’t. Not once had her mother ever mentioned that kind of power. Even in school, when she’d gotten a little bit of banshee history, she’d never heard of such a thing.
“Banshees release screams. That’s what they do. They can’t shut them down… That goes against their very nature!”
Tobin glanced at her. “It is very rare, but yes, it can happen.”
“You’re sure,” Duncan whispered.
“It’s in the book. Of course it can happen,” Tobin said.
“Just because it’s in this damn mandate doesn’t mean—” Reese snapped.
Duncan cut him off. “Can she get it back?”
“It doesn’t say,” Tobin said. He glanced at Cara, and the dark look on his face seemed a bit too much like a doctor delivering a death sentence. “I’m sorry.”
“So I will no longer be able to speak?” Cara asked, the idea strangling her thoughts.
Tobin closed the book. “It doesn’t look like you will be able to again. Unless you find some way to release the hold on your voice.”
She’d never be able to speak again. Never be able to talk. To release a cry? A powerful grief flooded her, rivaling the pain of the scream that begged to get out of her.
“So she’s just going to die? Explode?” Duncan asked, his face stony white. His fingers held hers, tense and hard. Or maybe that was her squeezing his fingers.
“I don’t think there’s any way to reverse this. Not that we can do, in any case,” Tobin said.
Reese glanced at her, then at Duncan. “Maybe she just needs to relax, and it’ll come back.”
“How the bloody hell am I supposed to relax?” Cara answered. The very thing they wanted her to do she had no control over, because she couldn’t speak. She couldn’t calm down…
The cry remained in her chest, rolling around, and she winced, the pain aching, and she started to see spots before her eyes.
“So this is it. This is what dying feels like,” she thought.
Duncan’s gaze snapped to hers. “Do not think like that.”
“What else is there to think? I am going to die.”
He shook his head, and glanced at the other two fairies, his expression still stony. “Is the danger squared away?”
“The Brothers had apprehended the suspect after you left with her. Whether they figured out what was going on, I don’t know,” Reese said. “We came with you to help for now.”
“There is no suspect,” Cara fired off. “My cousin Norton did this. He’s crazy. Wanted to take over the human world, reveal mythical existence.”
Regardless of what Norton thought, revealing the existence of mythical creatures to the humans was not a good idea. Everyone knew this. Any other day, she’d probably shudder at the idea. Though today, that whole scream-begging-to-burst-out-thing prevented that.
But it was common knowledge—humans would not do well if they knew that mythicals walked among them. Any time humans had an inkling of the mythical world, it led to all sorts of issues. Salem witch hunts, anyone? Spanish Inquisition? All mythicals kept their differences as private as possible, and it was an unwritten, respected rule among anyone who wasn’t human.
Well, except for her kooky cousin, who tried to use her as a bomb. But that put everything about him in perspective, now didn’t it?
Duncan glanced at her. “I figured Norton was responsible, but I wasn’t sure about his motivation.”
“He thought he could rule the humans. Rebuild an empire and all of that.” Cara ran her hand through her hair and pulled it over her shoulder. She rooted around in the pillows to get a more comfortable position and hoped that sitting up would make the pain ebb.
Didn’t they always say that fetal position was better for internal cramps and stuff? She pulled her knees to her chest.
Reese burst out laughing, jarring her from her internal debate.
Cara wondered what had made him laugh. Was there a starfish stuck to her butt or something? “What?”
Reese’s laughter was getting heavier, and even Tobin joined in. Reese had to take a breath before glanced at Cara.
Gah, was he on something? Cara wondered.
“He wanted to rule the humans?” Reese snorted, his hand over his stomach. Evidently this was the funniest thing he’d ever heard. “That’s hysterical. Because humans will be so cooperative. They hate each other. That’s like a goldfish trying to rule a zoo.”
While Cara had considered Norton’s plan absurd, she’d never actually thought it was funny. Especially since her explosive death was pinnacle to his success.
Nonetheless, Reese’s analogy did amuse her a bit—she smiled.
Duncan, however, didn’t find it funny. His gaze met hers, and it was dark. Angry dark. Like he could rip Norton’s face off. Or maybe punch Reese for laughing. But his gaze remained pointedly on her. “You were the catalyst in his plan.”
Cara nodded and clenched her stomach as the scream rocked around inside her. It felt like it tried to rip through her internal organs to find its way out. Sweat broke out in earnest on her brow and she hugged her knees even tighter.
She must have winced, because Duncan stroked her hair again. Cara could see the frustration painted on his face. So upset, Duncan’s thoughts were barely shielded—she could practically hear his anger at her pain, and the little he could do to stop it.
And it wasn’t Duncan’s usual controlled thoughts—this was something else, deeper, more primal.
A side she’d never seen—or felt, for that matter—from her dear friend.
Duncan leaned down and kissed her brow, and wiped away the sheen of sweat. The soft touch of the kiss bloomed under her skin, a sweet sensation contrasting against the scream inside her.
The pain in his eyes, along with the worry, marred Duncan’s usually handsome expression.
And more than his soothing gesture, something stirred inside her that wasn’t the cry begging to get out—though how she registered it, she wasn’t sure. Only that whatever it was, it connected to Duncan.
A cleared throat broke the moment between Cara and Duncan, and she blushed when she realized that the other two fairies were staring at them as they stared at one another.
But as soon as she made eye contact with Reese and Tobin, they glanced away, then at each other.
“We better go back, see if The Brothers have everything under control,” Reese said.
“Right,” Duncan replied and stood.
Cara stretched back out, since the curled up position wasn’t helping. The three men walked out, and she tried to center herself. She took a few calming breaths—and it didn’t have anything to do with the way Duncan had been staring at her. Nope, not a bit.
Okay, maybe a little.
It was just so odd to see such a play of emotions on his face, directed at her. They’d been friends for years. He helped her practice her telepathy, he even taught her about the Fairy Realm—things that weren’t in the classroom texts.
They were friends.
Even that one time when he’d kissed her. That was all friendship.
Nothing else.
And nope, she wouldn’t admit she remembered every bit of the sensation of his lips on hers, even fantasizing about it after for weeks. Okay, months.
Heck, she could probably draw the memory up now, if she wanted to.
But it wasn’t that big of a deal. It was just…well…it was one of those things that had happened.
Inside those protective wings.
Right?
Yeah, right.
So why did she have such rumblies in her tummy—that weren’t from the scream begging to get out—as she watched him and the others outside discussing the merrow?
It’s the exhaustion. That
whole “he saved me, my hero” thing, Cara chided herself. It had to be that. Nothing more.
It couldn’t have anything to do with any feelings she had for Duncan for as long as she knew him.
Nope.
The other two fairies disappeared and Duncan came back inside the tent. Silhouetted in the dark, his shoulders were broad and tapered into his hips. In his navy blue wetsuit, he looked quite dashing. Flickers of light danced over the small knives and other pieces of metal he had strapped to himself.
He started removing the weapons and laid them on a low table in the corner of the little cabana. She watched him move, mesmerized by the way his simple actions were so graceful and purposeful.
And surprisingly erotic.
She blushed at the thought.
Whether he noticed, she didn’t know, but he didn’t acknowledge her probably red-as-an-apple cheeks.
“They’re going to keep us informed about what’s happening in the kingdom,” Duncan said as he took a seat next to her.
“And what are you doing?” Cara asked. Shouldn’t he be making himself scarce? This cry could erupt at any time.
If she could figure out how to release it, anyway.
And if it didn’t, then, well, there would be this big boom, and he’d be caught up in it. He’d be one more casualty in Norton’s sick plan. It was bad enough that she was a victim. Not Duncan too. If she had to die, then so be it.
If this was her destiny, then she’d live with that, but she couldn’t allow her friend to be a part of it too. It was weird—she didn’t understand why or how, but at some point, in the last few moments, she’d accepted the fact that she was going to…
Well, die.
Okay, so maybe she didn’t completely accept it yet, because it made a big lump in her throat. But maybe more that she’d resigned herself to the inevitable?
All the more reason she didn’t want Duncan here—she didn’t want him to tie up his fate with hers. He deserved more than that.
Unaware of her inner turmoil, he waved his wand and a platter of cheeses, meats, and fresh fruit appeared. “I’m hungry. Aren’t you?”
“No. Why are you still here?” Cara asked.
He held a piece of cheese. “Because I’m not leaving you.”
Chapter Twelve
Cara stared at Duncan, her brow furrowed as he swallowed the piece of cheese.
“Why would you stay?” Her words echoed in his head, a complete thought, yet he could feel so much more—confusion, anger, frustration. So many of her emotions were laced with the words, he took a breath before answering.
“I have to see this through,” he replied. And how else could he articulate it? Just being here, next to her, in the desert of all places.
Alone with her. Truly alone with her. Not where someone would stumble upon them, not at a café where they were chatting over coffee, or even at her parent’s house where her mother or father might come in.
No phone to answer, no nosy neighbors, nothing.
Just the two of them.
For the first time in eternity.
It hit him hard how beautiful she had become, how much she’d matured both physically and mentally. The wetsuit she wore hid nothing from his gaze, and he took in the curves of her sides, of her hips, as the curves moved in one fluid motion, those lines that made the gods stand up and take notice. She truly was a work of art.
He’d realized when he first met her that she’d be attractive—her eyes and face shape already alluded to it, but it wasn’t until now that he could truly see how she’d matured into a great beauty, since he’d first met her.
Such a change.
Such growth.
He smirked at how she’d grown up, the differences between her now and the young lady he’d met so long ago.
“Why are you laughing? You heard him, I barely have an hour left,” Cara said. Tears formed in the corners of her eyes, and she brushed them away.
Seeing her tears sent a shockwave of ache through him. This was the last time he’d ever be around her.
The last time he’d ever get to see her.
“Do you find this satisfying? Watching me die?” She pulled her knees to her chest again, the wet suit groaning as she moved, and she laid her head on her knees, looking away from him.
He felt like a jerk—who knew what she thought he’d been smirking over. “I’m sorry. I was just remembering.”
She turned and looked at him, her eyes glossy from tears unshed. “Remembering what?”
“When I first met you.”
“Glad I can still amuse you in my final moments.” She crossed her arms and looked away. “You don’t have to stay if you’re just going to laugh at me.”
“And I said I’m not leaving. I won’t leave you alone to die.” He scooted into her and put his hand on her shoulder.
She twisted back toward him again. “I don’t know if that’s the nicest thing I’ve ever heard, or the most demented.”
“Here,” he said and waved his wand again. This time, he materialized a cup of Fairy Tea and handed it to her.
She sniffed it, and a bit of a grin spread over her face. “You sure you want to give me this?”
“You remember the last time, then?” He would never forget saving her that day.
Cara hesitantly took the cup. “I remember not being able to sleep for almost a day, I was so wired.” Yet as she thought that, something else made her cheeks turn several shades of pink.
A thought he couldn’t hear.
Intriguing… He’d always been able to hear most anyone’s thoughts whenever it suited him. To see that Cara’s learned to shield things from him—that was very impressive.
Her warm cheeks, along with the bit of her dimple from whatever that secret thought was kicked him hard in the gut. And lower places.
Stars, she was beautiful. Her black hair was almost dry and it fluttered around her face as the desert air flickered through the two open walls of the cabana.
He tried to keep his own wandering thoughts under control and pressed the cup into her hands.
“It might make you feel better.”
Cara took a sip. He watched her throat move as she swallowed—which made him feel like a heel, because he wanted to taste that bare skin.
Again.
He’d tasted her once—a long time ago. It had been impulsive at the time—fun that turned intimate. He hadn’t meant to let his guard down around her like that—to show her how he felt, but when the chance came, he’d taken it.
In the moment, he’d felt a connection, a need for her, something he’d not felt for anyone in a very long time.
Yet after, she shifted—her attitude was almost blasé about the kiss.
It must not have affected her as much as it had him, because kissing her had turned him into a confused mess.
She hadn’t been a charge of his, or in any way under his protection, so there truly was no reason why he couldn’t be attracted to her, yet he felt so strange about it. She’d only been twenty at the time—very young compared to his almost three-hundred years.
The emotions had been so strong he hadn’t known what to do. So he’d avoided Cara for nearly a year. When they finally saw each other again, whatever it was that had left him so flummoxed obviously had not affected her, because she’d greeted him with her usual enthusiasm.
Like nothing had happened.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t that way with him. Even now, knowing what was likely going to happen to her in the next hour, the urges came back—his wanting as strong as ever.
Not to mention his desire not to leave her. He would not let her die by herself.
“Do you remember that day?” Cara asked.
“Which day?” he asked, jarred from his warring thoughts.
“That day, when you read my palm?”
“It said it would be eight years until I was with the person I’m supposed to be with.”
“Yes,” he whispered again and mentally started counting backwards to when that was. He had a sneaking suspicion the anniversary wasn’t that long ago.
“That was eight years ago, last week.” Cara confirmed his mental math.
Duncan’s stomach dropped. Had someone new come into her life? Was there a boyfriend he knew nothing about? Someone who would miss her when she was gone?
Duncan would. Their friendship was so special to him—he had nothing to compare it to. No one he’d dated in the last fifty years had as much of a connection to him as Cara. When he woke, he wanted to talk to her over his morning cup of tea. Every day.
More than that, he wanted his own Happily Ever After. Like his brother Ewan and his sister-in-law Christy had.
Yet the one person he felt closer to than anyone in the Realm was this banshee who was about to explode. And here she was, having found someone that he’d predicted would come to her. Her own Happily Ever After.
He should be happy for her. He knew that. Nonetheless, a pain built in his chest that felt like it would rip him apart. One that grew worse when he thought about her with someone else than losing her all together.
He coughed down the pain. “Is there… Do I need to, uh, contact someone for you?”
Her shoulders slumped and she shook her head. “That isn’t why I bring that up.”
“So why?” If she didn’t have a new boyfriend, why would she mention that palm reading?
“You said I would find my destiny in eight years. That I would be with the person I was supposed to spend my days with in eight years.” She met his gaze, her eyes dark, her lashes lowered as she clenched the cup.
“I’m sorry I was wrong, Cara.”
“I don’t think you were.” She nested the cup in a crook between two of the pillows and tilted her chin down. The wafting aroma of the tea wrapped around them—both sweet and tart at the same time, distinct and unique, like this moment between them.
Saving Her Destiny Page 10