by Sierra Rose
Roarke scowled at his back, took two more puffs before tossing it away and heading for the stable.
He could recall his father building this new stable when he’d been a boy and how he and his brothers had loved playing in it or watching the horses. Stepping in, the smell took him back and he just stood there for several minutes taking it in before the soft sound caught his attention.
Listening, he recognized the old Irish lullaby in his native language as one his mother had sung to them as babies. Following the sound, Roarke found Jessica singing softly as she gently brushed the nose of a beautiful black stallion with a full flowing white mane.
He stood back to watch his friend and thought on his brother’s words. Even as children, Jessica had been his best friend. The one he could tell anything to and not be afraid. Lord knows he knew she had saved his life, even at times when he wanted die, and together they had been through bad times and he feared the times to come would be worse.
Watching her with the horse, Roarke began to look carefully so she would not sense him yet. He could read her physical weakness, how tired she still was but he also caught how uneven she was emotionally. Being tired himself and weak, he couldn’t see the physical injuries without being closer.
Jessica sang softly to the horse as she brushed its silky coat, needing anything to keep her mind off recent events. She knew she needed to keep it together for Roarke’s sake so she couldn’t break down in front of him or appear afraid even though she often was scared with his blackouts and especially with how he’d been lately.
“You’re a pretty boy, aren’t you?” she spoke to the horse as she went to put the brush aside to scratch its ears, but winced as her ribs and the slight burns the hospital attack caused pulled unexpectedly and she nearly faltered until strong hands encircled her waist.
“Just like most Irish males, all that attention will spoil him for life,” Roarke spoke in her ear as he caught her from falling, not letting on when he felt her tense as he did so often.
Startled at her friend’s voice, Jessica turned on instinct and found herself encircled by his arms. “Roarke, how long have you been out here?” she asked, thoughts scattered at his sudden appearance and fighting to shield as much as she could as fast as she could.
His smoky gray-blue eyes were calm as they looked down since he was several inches taller than his friend was, and saw what she couldn’t hide. “When was the last time I told you that you sing wonderfully, a gra?” he countered her question, feeling her shake as he eased her toward a hay bale to sit on.
“Did Mac or Peter say you could be out here?” Jessica ignored his question, frowning as he sat her down but didn’t step away as he normally did.
“Kerry said we needed to talk,” Roarke replied, lightly running a finger down her cheek and instinctively moved her hair aside and saw the marks on her neck. “Want to pick the topic or should I?”
Jessica shook her head, figuring why Kerry would need them to talk, and more confident that she could get him on a topic that was safe. “No, it’s fine. All we need to do is…” she had started to push up when his hands moved to ease her back. “What?”
“Tell me how you got these?” he touched her throat and saw her eyes go wary. “New Orleans, I can guess, so skip the bloody easy remark and tell me how and who. Did I do it?”
“No!” she seemed shocked at the idea but avoided his eyes, which could be too intense at times. “Roarke, I expect to get hurt when I deal with evil power. It’s nothing.”
Doubting that, he let it go for then, moving to sit next to her and knew she was struggling to hide things. “What did I do at the hospital?” he asked, cutting her off when she went to shrug. “Ryan says I hurt you and Kerry won’t say which means I did something, so what?”
Knowing her friend didn’t need this right then, Jessica tried to get him off the subject. “Roarke, it’s fine. I’m fine. Let’s go inside and…Roarke?”
This time he heard the mild fear when he held her arm still and hated that he could cause her that fear when he had sworn he would never hurt anyone he loved…he swallowed suddenly at the thought and finally sighed. “I hate when he’s right,” he muttered, letting go of her so he could scrub both hands over his face.
“You hate when who’s right?” Jessica asked, concerned he would slip under again.
“Ryan,” Roarke answered sourly. “I hate when Ryan’s right about anything because he never lets me live it down.”
Jessica knew this and hesitantly touched his arm. “I figured that out when you punched him earlier.”
“Is that how his face got to be bleeding?” he lifted a brow at that and wondered what had caused it then figured he knew. “He was flirting with you, wasn’t he?”
“Ryan was being Ryan and didn’t mean anything,” she swiftly sought to explain, needing him off this subject.
Roarke felt her fear building, which caused him to turn to look and saw her shields had dropped a good deal, and he could see the paleness, the weakness and… he could sense the injuries.
“I haven’t been the best friend to you lately, Jess,” he spoke slowly, watching her closely but he stepped away, needing the space.
“You’ve been through too much, luv,” the girl smiled, wanting to reassure him but not knowing how. “It’ll all be fine.”
Not knowing who she was reassuring more, he smiled for the first time in days. “Promise me if I ever hurt you in any way you’ll let Ryan burn me.”
Seeing her eyes shoot to his told Roarke what he wanted to know, but as he started to turn away her hand shot to his arm without thinking.
“Roarke, I know you’d never hurt me intentionally,” she quickly spoke but as he stopped, she wondered silently.
Looking over his shoulder, he could read the fear and concern and made a choice. “From New Orleans to today, show me what’s happened.”
Knowing that was a bad plan, Jessica tried to refuse but his hands were on her shoulders gently, his eyes plaintive.
“Show me, a gra (my love),” he murmured, feeling her hesitance, but his power was slightly stronger as he looked past her shields. He then saw the attack in New Orleans with the shadow creature, the airport attack, to his possession at the hospital in Killarney where the demon who took over his form attacked the girl and his brothers to everything else.
Only Roarke’s speed kept his friend from collapsing to the ground as the images died away and she went limp in his arms.
“No, stay with me, luv,” he spoke firmly as he eased her back on the bale of hay and quickly took his jacket off so he could ease her head back on it. “Jessie?”
Briefly considering calling for Mac, Roarke sighed and took a leap that he prayed didn’t doom them both.
Knowing it was just the stress of reliving everything and using the energy that she didn’t have yet that caused her to collapse, he knew how to help that; at least he hoped he did.
Gently rubbing her cold hands between his, Roarke waited a minute before pressing his lips to her forehead and closing his eyes. “Rest, muirnin (sweetheart),” he murmured softly, easing his friend into his arms fully and waiting again until he could hear her soft heartbeat in his mind. “Take what you need from me,” he whispered. “Take my strength, my warmth.”
The horses in their stalls stirred to Roarke’s gentle voice as he closed his eyes and sang softly the songs his parents had taught him.
He was unaware of the soft glowing light in the barn as he held his friend against him, knowing that both Mac and Kerry would yell about this since he wasn’t at full or even partial strength yet to do this.
A light touch on his face caused him to look down into tired blue eyes as Jessica rubbed her eyes before settling on him. “None of it was your fault,” she told him, shivering suddenly.
“You can’t always be my savior, Jess,” Roarke was careful when he said this so she wouldn’t misunderstand. “There comes a time when I have to protect us both.”
“I’ve always been t
here for you, Roarke,” she argued, starting to draw tighter to herself. “I haven’t been too good at protecting you this time but I will from now on if…”
Frowning, it took a second for him to realize what she was saying. “No, a gra. That’s not what I meant,” he broke in, gently laying a finger on her lips.
“Jess, for as long as we’ve known each other most of the time you’ve been the one riding to my rescue,” Roarke tried to explain but knew he was messing up. “I have to fight this battle alone but…” Gently lifting her face up to him, he went on softly. “You will always be there with me and for me as I will be for you.”
Pausing to take a shaky breath, he let his fingers touch her face in the way he always had, feeling the silkiness of that skin. “You’ve been more of a friend than I deserved.”
“Best friends, luv,” she replied softly, knowing he didn’t like to be touched or get too close at times so she went to move and was surprised when his arms tightened just slightly. “Roarke?”
“I swore a bloody long time ago that I wouldn’t ever doom anyone else ‘cause of what happened to me as a lad to everything else, I believed what they said,” his voice was soft but he held her eyes and gently brought one hand up to kiss it. “I was afraid to doom anyone by letting them love me or loving anyone.”
Jessica’s eyes narrowed as they did when he talked like that, still mad about his childhood, but this time she tried to stay calm. “Your brothers love you, Roarke. Even Ryan, though he is a huge pain in the ass at times. It’s safe for you to love them.”
“Yeah, gotta agree about Ry though we won’t tell him,” Roarke chuckled, and then his eyes turned serious. “I do love my brothers, Jessica but there’s something else,” he said a quick Irish prayer to him self then went on. “I love you, Jess.”
The girl stared at him for a long time, not sure if she had heard that right. “Roarke, you don’t have to say anything you don’t mean or…”
The words that she was fighting to get out past a hammering heart were cut off with a gentle kiss.
This wasn’t the first time he’d kissed her, as they’d been friends for years, but this kiss he felt the change in it, the deepness, and the desire that flamed as he deepened it only when he felt her not resist as he feared she might.
“Ta me chomh mor sin I ngra leat (I love you so much),” he whispered against her lips upon breaking the kiss. “Been in love since we were probably sixteen, luv, but I was scared if I told you then something bad would happen,” he coughed in the silence. “You could say something, Jess.”
“I’ve loved you since you were eight, you dumb bloody moron,” Jessica finally replied, meeting his eyes with a shy smile. “Why do you think Ryan enjoys flirting with me? Because he knows it would annoy you to no end.”
He stared at her then let his fingers touch her face. “I’m scared, luv. If I lose you or them…”
“You aren’t alone this time, Roarke,” Jessica replied softly, easing closer as the fall chill closed in. “Open up to your brothers and it’ll be alright.”
Knowing what she meant by this, he sighed. “I’ll try.” Seeing her shiver again, he reached for his jacket to wrap around her. “Let me take you back to the house, luv. You’re too cold.”
Jessica didn’t want to go in yet as she knew her friend still had issues to resolve, but was still too tired to fight so she nodded, unaware when he lifted her in his arms to carry her back.
“Can I say I love you?” she asked sleepily, resting her head on his shoulder.
Feeling some of the tension in his chest leave him, Roarke lightly kissed her on the forehead. “Yes, Jess. You can say that you love me and I do love you,” he murmured, stepping onto the path that would go back to the house, and was talking softly so his friend would fall to sleep fully when the he caught the first sense of evil nearby.
Slowing his steps, he looked around slowly, but knowing this land had always been safe from evil began to think he was just imagining things until he heard the first growl.
“Roarke? Something’s wrong,” Jessica yawned, blinking as something buzzed in her head.
Easing her to the ground but behind him, Roarke gently nudged the British girl. “Go to the house,” he ordered quietly, looking with his powers even as the massive black coated thing stepped onto the path between them and the house.
It looked like a huge dog but its body was three times the size with black matted hair, glowing red eyes and snarling teeth that was growling dangerously.
“No,” Roarke breathed, eyes narrowing as he saw the creature and feeling his heart nearly stop as he recalled the last time he had seen something like this.
He had been eleven years old on Skelling Michael Island after spending a near perfect day with his parents, they had been waiting on Kerry to come with the boat when the creature attacked.
One of the few things he could remember about that event was his father telling his mother and him to run and though he knew it tore at her to do so, Brenna Fitzgerald had run with her son but only so far as to get him to the steps leading to the beach.
“Run to the beach and stay safe, my little boy,” she told him urgently, lightly ruffling his hair. “Your Da and I love you, Roarke, but this is what must happen. Tell Kerry to protect you and your brothers and never doubt that you will always be safe.”
With that, she had gone back to help his father and though he had followed, to this day Roarke still blocked what he had seen.
Seeing this beast today was bringing it back but feeling Jessica’s fingers on his arm snapped him back to the present.
“Run,” he told her, knowing she could go through the stable and take the long way to the house. “Go find my brothers or the Mavericks.”
“I can’t leave you to fight this thing alone,” Jessica argued, feeling his fear but also feeling his determination. “Roarke, no. I can’t…”
Seeing the beast hunch its back, Roarke grabbed Jessica’s arm and pushed her back toward the stable. “Go, Jessica!” he snapped, his fear making his voice hard.
Hesitating a second, she finally nodded and began backing away when another growl had her whirling just in time to scream.
Spinning at his friend’s voice, Roarke saw the second beast jump from the shadows at the girl and it was his panic and fear for her safety that had him doing something he hadn’t done in more years than he wanted to remember.
Lashing out with a wave of wind to deflect the beast jumping for Jessica, he diverted a portion of his power to search for his brothers and hoped after years apart, one of them picked his call for help up even as the first demon was jumping on his back.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The Fitzgerald Family cemetery was set away from the main house and fields, but was connected with an ancient cobblestone path and lined with rosebushes.
The black gate had an oval trellis that, depending on the season, always had some type of climbing flower growing on it.
Passing the gate there was another feel that you encountered as you stepped on ground that had been a family burial ground since the first Fitzgerald were laid to rest.
There had always seemed to be a strange peace to this part of the manor grounds, and as the four brothers went down a path maintained by the manor gardeners, there was silence until they got to a large double highly polished black marble stone.
Surrounded by the prize winning white roses, the stone read in engraved letters ‘Beloved Husband, Adored Wife and Loving Parents; Toryn Fitzgerald and Brenna Kerrigan Fitzgerald.’
Kerry stared at the stone of his parents and felt the wind blow warm over him as he picked a single white rose to lie in front of his mother’s name.
This would be the first time, he knew, that any of the others had been back to this site in fifteen years, so he remained silent.
It was Ian who spoke first, in a low hushed tone. “I can’t remember them that much.”
“You were three when they died, lad,” Mac replied, letting a hand rest on the
youngest boy’s shoulder when he both heard and felt the pain in his voice. “That’s to be expected.”
Bending down to pick a rose and then toy with it absently, Ryan tried to keep his untouched attitude but it was hard.
“Mum was beautiful and looked like you,” he finally spoke, looking over his shoulder. “She could sing like an angel or yell like the devil if her temper was up. You have her face and hands and you, Mac and Kerry, all got your blond hair from her.”
“They loved each other very much but they weren’t perfect,” Kerry placed a hand on the stone and was surprised to feel the vibration. “No couple ever is. They had fights, and raising five sons who were in the spotlight like we were wasn’t easy, but they made it seem like it and never complained.”
Mac looked up as something pulled him but he brought his attention back to Kerry. “The fights got worse toward the end though.”
“Mum knew how she was looked at from our grandmother and Kathleen and Da was fighting a lot in those months,” Kerry agreed, wishing he had seen it more then. “I think that Mum knew the threat Da’s Mum was to her children, which was why they were discussing her taking Roarke and Ian up to Clare that summer to see her folk.”
“But it never happened,” Ryan frowned, wincing as pain shot through his head for no reason. “They died two weeks later.”
Ian looked between them as he felt his claddagh medal getting warmer under his shirt. “What did happen to them, Kerry?” he asked.
Knowing this was the heart of it, Kerry accepted his brothers needed to know the truth of that time. “We’ll go back to the house and discuss…” he drew off as something from the corner of his eye made him look toward the small gazebo he’d had built in honor of his mother.
Staring hard as he thought he heard the swing in the gazebo squeak as it blew, he blinked at the form he saw.
Always a petite, frail-looking woman with slender hands and arms, Brenna Fitzgerald had a sweet side. However, she could handle her unruly sons easily as well, and had been perfect in Kerry’s eyes.