“Guys, I know what I am doing. Believe me.” She finally turned to face Ryder again, without malice on her face, “What do I need to know about this particular Immortal?”
“Roane has an odd way of speaking. Most find it unsettling. I do not trust him. He has kept to himself in a monastery for the past four centuries or so. Roane does not have a friend among the Brethren though he has a seat upon our council.” Ryder wanted to say more, wanted to tell her of his mission, tell her how he felt and how badly he wanted to take her to bed and make love to her in every way he could think of. He did not. He could not. “Miss Sullivan, I believe we should all accompany you for this meeting.”
Storm looked at him with utter indifference, “Very well. I think we should lay protections on the study for all of us. We can’t have my father popping in again.”
Ryder found this take charge side of her to be even more appealing. His jeans were feeling rather snug at the moment and focusing on the situation at hand became increasingly difficult. How did she affect him so thoroughly? Storm sent Dan and Shane to gather some herbs and roots and he caught something about gathering red wine from the kitchen. Right, he needed to get the wine and meet her in the study. Ryder willed his feet to move, to leave the erotic images in his head behind, and reminded himself of the danger still lurking.
Storm nodded at him impersonally, “Tell Lucian to give us ten minutes and then bring the Immortal through the front doors.”
Storm
Pac Man joined up with her from out of nowhere. He must have been sleeping in one of the guest rooms, silly dog. The sound of his chains seemed a small comfort as they descended the stairs. She focused on their sound to suppress her cravings for Ryder. It would have been so easy to grab his hand and sneak back to her room. When she woke to him at the foot of her bed, Storm thought for a second he might make love to her then and there. But he addressed her so coldly, “Miss Sullivan.” It nearly broke her. Aunt Trin must have been very wrong about his feelings.
Once in the study, Storm tucked the journal in her waistband, under her shirt near the small of her back. Pac Man followed her in and curled up at her back as Storm sat cross-legged in the middle of the floor. She didn’t actually know if she could lay a protection spell over the Immortals but it seemed possible with a few minor alterations to the incantation. It’s not like they could die, Storm just didn’t know what talents the new Immortal might have, or when her father might decide to drop in again.
Ryder emerged first, two bottles of red wine in one arm and a bottle of water in his other hand. He handed her the water and placed the bottles of wine on the floor in front of her. She thought he wanted to say something but the Immortal remained silent for once. His presence was distracting enough but if he started to lecture her again Storm would certainly lose control. Her body seemed to be responding to him again, even though her mind worked to turn it off. She vowed to find a way to bind her emotions again when this whole mess ended. They were really nothing but trouble.
Dan and Shane walked in just then, thankfully, their wings tucked away again and their boyish smiles quite intact. At least something remained unchanged, Shane seemed to be itching for a fight and Dan appeared wary yet determined. They laid the supplies at her feet and sat on the couch behind her.
“Alright, babe, work your mojo. We’ll float you a little extra power.” She knew without looking that Shane smiled so broadly his dimples would be showing.
“Lucian will be here in a few minutes, is that enough time?” Ryder sounded skeptical. Nothing like some healthy skepticism to piss her off enough to amplify that inner glow. Storm smiled at him, not the most pleasant of grins but a knowing one.
Storm wound some of each herb together and lit them in a decorative glass bowl her mother had always loved. Oh well. She called on the powers of the ancients, whispering the rites of protection and adding in a block in illusions, finishing up with a surge of power from her glowing hands that reverberated through the room and vanished. Storm stood, blew out the flame, and moved the bowl to the desk.
“That’s it? What’s the wine for?” Storm smiled before she turned to face Ryder who just looked perplexed. Good. Ha, that will teach him. She made a show of rolling her eyes. “Really, I can’t be a bad hostess. The wine is for us to drink, Immortal. Grab some glasses from the shelf and start pouring.”
Shane began laughing and Storm found herself stifling a chuckle as she settled on the sofa beside him. They heard the front doors open and within moments a knock at the door. Storm muttered a few words and the doors swung inward allowing their visitors to enter. Lucian approached first, followed by a strange man who could only be the mystery Immortal. Two kilt-clad Immortals followed him. Storm allowed the doors to slam shut behind them. Ryder stood over her, a glass of wine in his hand.
“For you, Miss Sullivan.” Of course, the epitome of stoicism. Still, the familiar heat flared in her abdomen. It required a lot of control to force a tight nod and suppress her desire. The Scots stood behind the couch and waved off Ryder’s offer of wine. Lucian declined as well but the seraphs accepted gladly. Ryder offered wine to Roane last. Clearly a power play on his part. Storm fought a scowl and instead smiled genially at the new arrival.
“Welcome, Roane of the Immortal Brethren, to Willow Wood Manor. What is your business with me? As you can see, I am well protected so choose your words well.” Storm allowed a slight golden glow to rise in her fingertips.
“Miss Sullivan, it is a pleasure to meet you. I am grateful for the audience and hope that we can reach an agreement.” Ryder had not been kidding, Roane’s voice grated on her nerves, quite possibly the most irritating sound next to the emergency broadcasting system alert. Still, Storm fixed a pleasant smile on her face and worked to listen intently. “I know who hunts you and wish to offer my assistance in your protection detail.”
She opened her mouth to respond but Ryder beat her to it. “How do you know who hunts her? Why do you seek to protect her now when you ordered me to extinguish her earlier?” Storm turned to Ryder who had squared his shoulders and moved forward, his fists and jaw tightly clenched. “Why are you really here Roane?”
Roane turned to Ryder, his face a strange mixture of indignation and sorrow. “I do not have to convince you, Ryder. Though I understand the source of your animosity toward me, I had to know you bore her no ill will before I could trust you.” Ryder tensed further, Storm looked from her lover to her guest and back again. Roane turned to her and smiled warmly. “Miss Sullivan, I have some key information that will help you in your plight and convince you that I could never harm you.”
“Very well, Ryder, sit down. I wish to hear him out. If you cannot contain yourself then you can leave. This man is my guest and you would do well to remember that.” Ryder looked at her, shock and awe blanketing his face. It stung a bit to have him look at her in that way, as if she’d wounded him somehow. Well, no more than he’d done to her. Dammit, now she sounded childish.
Roane’s grating voice dropped to a soft whisper, “You are my granddaughter, Miss Sullivan.”
The room fell silent as everybody turned to face Roane. He in turn stared directly at Storm.
“I’m sorry, what did you just say?” Shane broke the shocked silence. He stood and moved closer to Ryder in an effort to obstruct Roane’s view of Storm. While Shane and Ryder possessed very nice derrieres, she did not want to be eye level with them at this point in time.
Lucian chimed in; she recognized his voice though she couldn’t see him either. “I believe Roane thinks Storm to be his granddaughter, if I am reading this situation correctly.” Sarcasm, nice touch. She could definitely get along with him.
Shane and Ryder separated and turned to face her, in fact, when they moved, she realized all eyes were on her. Dammit. This could not be happening. How much more had Aunt Trin failed to tell her? Would she even find a family tree in the journal? Could things possibly get more complicated?
“She is my granddaughter if she
is the child of the anomaly.” Roane’s voice took on a different quality when he spoke softly; Storm could hear emotion in it that was absent when he spoke normally. It seemed a strange thought, to be looking at her grandfather who looked younger than her father did, but somehow it fit.
One of the Scots spoke up, “How is that possible? Immortals cannot reproduce.”
“That is why my son is the anomaly, and quite dangerous.” Roane looked to Ryder, “You do not know my story, though you scorn and fear me. I once was a part of the world, once fought in wars and trained other Immortals, much like you. I took many wives in my long life, loved each of them in their own right. Then I met Damarra.”
That name seemed familiar. Storm flashed through her history lessons. “Wait, Damarra as in the Celtic fertility goddess?” Storm remembered reading about her as a teenager. Celtic lore had been one of her passions and she’d spent a good deal of time in Ireland and Scotland on her travels.
“Yes. She and I were together for a century. Then Damarra decided that she wanted a child. Of course she knew the limitations of Immortals but would not hear reason. Damarra, sweet and innocent and gentle spirited, sought aide from the witch, Morgaine, and unbeknownst to me found a way to counteract the infertility of Immortals. When I found out she was pregnant I became angry and worried about interference from the brethren. That’s why I joined the council and went to live with the monks. I had to know everything about our history and potential outcomes of what Damarra had done. I saw to Morgaine’s punishment myself when I weighed in with Arthur in his conquests and Damarra fled to the safety of the Tuatha de Danann. I heard nothing of her after that.” Roane took a deep drink from the wine glass, emptying it, and stared into the glass. “About fifty years later, I came across a village Seer, a woman with true sight. I still had not located Damarra and was desperate for answers. You see, the Tuatha de are a shifty race and they became more isolated as the world changed. So, when I found this Seer I recognized the depth of her Sight and asked for a reading. She knew me for what I am and obliged.” Roane paused. “I am sorry, could I possibly get a glass of water? I am unused to speaking so much.”
Storm stood and made for the door but Ryder took her arm and spun her around. “I will get it. You should rest, it has been a long day for you, Miss Sullivan.” He looked down at her meaningfully, his eyes flared silver for a moment and she remembered the dining room. Dammit. How could she stay mad at him when he looked at her like that? Storm forced a nod and Ryder released her arm. He strode out of the study and she sat back down on the sofa beside Dan. Again the room fell to silence. Storm tugged on Shane’s arm, urging him to sit down, in an effort to diffuse some of the tension while they waited.
“He cares for you deeply, child.” She felt Roane studying her again. As an afterthought, he added, “As do the seraphs.” Storm felt her face flush. Dan reached over and squeezed her hand. Apparently things could get worse. Mortification abound. Fortunately, Ryder returned with a glass of water and thrust it unceremoniously at Roane before settling on the arm of the sofa next to Dan. A few drops spilled out onto his pants but Roane paid them no attention. He simply took a gulp of water and returned to looking at Storm.
Roane took another drink before continuing, “The Seer’s name was Celine O’Sullivan, a fiery redhead with four young girls when I first met her. She had three more and a score of granddaughters before her death. I am certain you see where this is going. Your ancestor predicted the birth of the Emerald, a Seer of the Sullivan line with unusual power and enough talent to end the line of Immortals. Celine predicted that the Emerald would come from my son and a Sullivan woman. Unfortunately, my familiar was outside her cottage and heard that part of the prophecy. He raced off to the council and told them about my son and the Sullivans.” Roane hung his head. Storm wanted to comfort him, she couldn’t pinpoint why, she just had the overwhelming urge to do so. Shane placed a hand on her leg and squeezed. The urge passed and she listened as Roane continued. “The council couldn’t prove I had fathered a child or exile me for any wrong doing, but they wanted me close after that. I was unanimously voted into a seat on the council and removed from the traveling lists. Of course, at that point I knew my child survived and I had heard the entire prophecy. I did not trust anyone other than the monks who were bound to the brethren so I went to live among them spending my days and nights in the archives researching the Tuatha De and Morgaine’s magic. I visited Celine a few more times before her death and I smuggled her daughters out of Ireland. Since then, I have been secretly helping the line of Sullivans, waiting for my granddaughter.”
“That is an excellent story, but I am afraid it is simply not possible.” Ryder stood and glared at Roane, if looks could kill, well, more like, if Roane could die. Storm’s mind reeled with the onslaught of information. Questions formed and then were replaced with new questions, so many that she didn’t know where to begin. Her head hurt all of a sudden and she really needed time to process this. It felt true to her. But Ryder seemed skeptical. Even Dan and Shane were eyeing the Immortal suspiciously. She really wished their lie detection worked on Immortals.
Ryder
Ryder could not believe his ears. No way had Roane been aiding the Sullivans this whole time, not once had Ryder come across him on any of the assassinations. He never even heard of Roane having a child, an utter impossibility for Immortals, and this Damarra woman, how convenient that she went missing hundreds of years ago.
“It is true. And, there is more. It would not make sense without the history, but I know so much more. I can help.” Roane looked from Ryder to Storm and back again. “Ryder, I swear on the brethren that what I tell is true. I have been cursed for my knowledge and I came to town the instant I heard of Trin Sullivan’s death.” Roane seemed to be doing a smashing job of playing to his audience. Ryder folded his arms over his chest. He stared down Roane who looked, well, he looked sad. No, not possible. This could not be possible. Ryder looked to Lucian who met his eye and seemed just as suspicious. Kell and Pollux shrugged when he looked to each of them in turn.
“Why?” Storm’s voice broke through the tension. Ryder turned to her, confusion and frustration marring her lovely face. Her eyes blazed and her fingertips glowed just slightly. Not a good sign. Ryder sat back on the sofa arm and nudged Dan who then noted Storm’s fingertips as well. He took one of her hands and began massaging the pressure points in her wrist.
Roane finished off the last of the water and looked back to Storm, “Because, Trin Sullivan bound your emotions and with them your powers rendering you useless as the Emerald and deflecting the brethren’s assassin, that would be you Ryder. She was very good, the best of your line since Celine. Unfortunately, my son grew up with the Tuatha De and possesses some of his mothers’ powers. Your aunt was never meant to carry your power, though, she was merely mortal and her shell could not take it. Even the small portion she could use ended up being too much for her. In the end, it was rendered useless and Trin Sullivan knew it. She destroyed her would be assassins in one fell swoop, disintegrated them actually. I saw the wreckage. I cleaned up the mess to protect our world. To the police she was just another victim of gang violence.” Roane continued to study Storm. Ryder watched, alert and ready to move if necessary. He stole glances at Storm from the corner of his eye. She chewed on her lip for a few minutes and blew that stubborn strand of hair from her eyes. Ryder clamped down on his arousal and focused on Roane.
“So I am part goddess and my magic is what killed my aunt because she tried to use it to protect me from my father who is trying to capture me to kill me for some reason. Is that what you are telling me?” Storm looked so small sitting on the sofa between the seraphs. Ryder wanted so badly to carry her away from all of this until the others could dispose of Jasper. He sighed. She would never leave. His stubborn Storm. His. Gods he wanted her to be his. Every part of his body wanted her. Have to save her first though. The words popped in his head and he looked over to Lucian who smiled knowingly. G
otcha. Lucian winked and turned back to watch Roane.
“For the most part, yes. Your father wishes to harness your abilities to rule the supernatural world. He thinks it is his true place, the son of an Immortal and a Goddess. I believe that he has gone a touch mad.” Roane trailed off and then focused back on Storm, “wait, how did you come to think he wishes you dead?” Roane actually seemed perplexed. Something the mighty Roane had not figured out? Ryder wanted to interject a snide comment but thought better of it when he chanced another glance at Storm. Her brows were furrowed and she seemed just as confused.
“Well, when he had me earlier I told him about why I left home at seventeen and he became real interested in it. I actually used it to anger him enough to break down his magic. I am not a complete idiot so I put two and two together and voila! My father wants me dead.” Storm sounded so matter of fact. Ryder marveled at how collected she remained under the circumstances.
“You told him why you left?” Ryder could not be sure which seraph asked since his eyes remained on Storm, but it did not really matter he supposed. She turned to Dan, must have been him.
“Yes, I couldn’t help it. Honestly, I couldn’t stop myself. The words just came out.” She looked ashamed. Ryder wanted to comfort her, tell her it would be alright. He did not quite understand what the big deal was but apparently it had been bad for her to reveal that to him.
“You never told us. You never told Trin.” Ah, that was the reason. Ryder felt himself growing increasingly irritated with the seraphs. They clearly wanted her. He would not share her. Ever. A strand of hair fell in Storm’s face. He wanted for her to blow it backward as she had before. Instead, she glanced at him briefly, pain in her green eyes.
Storm looked at Dan, then Shane, then lowered her eyes and answered; her voice barely audible, “I saw my own death.”
The Storm Sullivan Saga: The Emerald Seer Series Box Set Page 13