by Sierra Rose
“No,” Roarke closed his eyes finally, having slid his hand behind him out of sight slowly. “You won’t.”
Sebastian smiled, pleased. “So you will surrender to me.”
“Didn’t say that either,” Roarke returned, bringing his hand back into the open to show the glowing orb. “I’d see her dead myself before that happens.”
“Roarke!” Kerry snapped, starting to move but a firm hand gripped his shoulder, and he spun to see Ryan’s eyes were smoky and he’d removed something from his jacket.
“You wouldn’t try that while I’m holding her, boy,” Sebastian sneered, tightening his grip on her. “Speak, girl. Beg him for your life.”
Even though the spell blinded her, Jessica had a good idea what was happening and what would happen as she remained in his power. She knew what Sebastian wanted her to say but in his doubt, his spell had weakened slightly that she could fight it some.
She couldn’t see her friend, but felt his thoughts weakly and his emotions as she fought against the words to say what she needed to. “I…I love you.”
“I know that, a gra,” Roarke sighed, adding in a whisper he hoped she could hear. “I’m sorry.”
His hand was a flash as the orb flew up the steps, then things seemed to go into slow motion.
“Shit!” Mac snapped, not believing this was happening even as he saw Ryan smile grimly.
“No!” Sebastian, in a panic, yanked the girl to one side more to shield him when a whistle sounded from above them.
Ryan tossed what he had pulled from his jacket out in a careless toss down to his brother, even as the ball of light exploded in front of Sebastian, blinding him. “One shot, brat and don’t miss,” he called in what he hoped was a calm voice, despite the hammering in his chest.
The item tossed landed perfectly in Roarke’s hand to which he quickly aimed and cocked the 9mm Walther handgun. “Sebastian!” he snapped, eyes going black with both temper and power. “Steel and magic routed you once when my father stabbed you with the pocketknife he had, tiny magic then, but a 9mm parabellum round cast in magic is a hell of a lot more effective these days.”
The gun aimed and fired once, striking Jessica once in the upper chest and passing through to hit the wizard who, once struck, screamed as if struck by acid and released his grip on Jessica to grab his chest and face.
“Jessica!” Ian saw the girl fall forward but before any of them could move, Roarke was there.
Catching her firmly in his arms, Roarke still held the gun firmly as Sebastian writhed on the landing. “Born of the Five, to the Five I belong and will swear my blood and that of my kin on it and the Circle that will come,” he chanted, eyes blazing now as the wizard snarled up at him. “You lose and don’t ever touch what is mine because this time I’ll fight for them.”
“There are four more times to lose, little boy!” Sebastian screamed as he began to dissipate, wounds showing as burns. “You won a small battle this day but did you win by selling your soul to beat me, and will she ever recover?”
With those words ringing, the wizard vanished and the house was again silent.
“Guess I’ll cross that bridge when it comes,” Roarke finally whispered, then was on his knees with Jessica leaning against his chest. “Jessie?”
Mac had shrugged Ryan off to take the steps two at a time to get to the first landing, seeing the blood spreading rapidly. “Ian, run and find Cam’s medic!” he snapped, not looking at his brother, but anger was plain. “You shot her just to get to him!”
“I know what I did,” Roarke was quiet, running his hand over the girl’s pale, clammy face and felt it. “His spells still…”
“You should have thought of that before you shot her,” Mac saw both holes and knew she was losing blood too fast.
Kerry and Ryan had gotten there by then and had taken in the grim scene. “Mac, a little less lecturing would be nice,” Kerry saw the pain his brother was in but also knew he didn’t have the strength to remove the spell, so he knelt down to lightly run a hand over their friend’s head.
“Remove the evil that has been done to taint this child,” he spoke the spell quietly and felt it lift instantly even before Jessica jerked against Roarke’s hold.
Her eyes snapped open, blinked rapidly then started looking around even as pain seared, and she began gasping.
“Be quiet, luv, and just lay still,” Mac urged, hearing Peter Daniels arrive in the house. “Single GSW, in and out, and she’s losing blood. Probably other wounds but we deal with this first.”
Peter stared hard. “How the hell did she get shot?” he demanded, knowing Cam wasn’t going to like this.
“Later, just help me get her stable,” Mac shot his brother a look that could have killed and probably would have if Maggie hadn’t come tearing down the steps at him.
“Mac!” she stopped when she saw the blood and felt the tension between the brothers. “My God, what do ye…?”
Shaking his head, he mentally told the reporter what he would need then scowled. “Give her to me, Roarke.”
Peter had a good hunch on what happened from the way their mystic was yelling, but knew there had to be a reason.
“I can…” Roarke didn’t want to let go but felt Kerry ease him away from the girl. “Kerry, I had a reason…”
“I know, but right now let Mac have her and go get cleaned up,” Kerry urged, looking at Ryan, who merely nodded his understanding.
Watching as Peter helped Mac carry Jessica back upstairs with Kerry following, Roarke looked at his bloodstained hands before heading downstairs without a word to anyone.
“Why would he shoot her, Ryan?” Ian felt dumbfounded by this. “I thought he loved her.”
“He does, kid,” Ryan sighed, scrubbing his face. “Mac’s thinking like Mac right now and not asking what he’d have done if little Maggie had been in the same position.”
A snort behind him caused him to see the aforementioned woman coming back up with a bag, towels and Deirdre. “Well, I’d like to think Mac wouldn’t shoot me just to prove a point to some evil witch.”
“Roarke shooting Jessica was the only way Sebastian was going to let go and they both knew it,” he replied, hearing glass breaking from downstairs. “Go help big brother, Maggie. I have to go be big brother again myself.”
Pausing, she looked down at the black haired gambler. “I didn’t think you liked doing that.”
“I don’t, luv,” Ryan returned, motioning to Ian to come with him as he tracked the noise to the living room where the mirror above the fireplace was now shattered. “Well, I’m not sure if letting Mac pull glass outta you is a bright plan right now.”
Roarke didn’t move as Ryan stepped up behind him to see him staring at his hands, which were now bleeding from being put through the mirror. “Did I have another option?” he whispered. “If we had fought him, he’d have killed her or done so much worse than he did.”
“It’s alright, brat,” Ryan assured him, knowing it wasn’t getting through as he put his hand on the shaking shoulder, and then what happened took them all by surprise.
All the emotion, the pain and fear that he had buried that night suddenly came out as Roarke whirled at the touch, but instead of lashing out as both really Ryan and Ian had expected him to, he latched onto his brother like he had never before and all the walls crashed at once.
“I’d never hurt her, Ry,” he whispered, gripping harder as his body was suddenly overtaken with waves of trembling. “I… just…”
Ryan closed his eyes as he felt the emotions swamping his brother sitting on the sofa, and just gave in and pulled him fully into his arms to let him release all the anger, the fears but when the sobs from the past began, he sent Ian out with a sharp look.
“Find where Deirdre hides the hard liquor,” he told him, wanting a drink and figuring one couldn’t hurt his brother.
As Ian darted out, Ryan sat back and stayed silent. Figuring what his brother needed was to vent more than anything right
then.
By the time the youngest of the Fitzgeralds returned with what appeared to be an ancient bottle of something and some glasses, Roarke had become mostly silent except his breathing was labored.
“Okay, before we get you cleaned up and even try to approach Mac, let’s have some of this,” Ryan spoke with his usual tone, taking the bottle as his eyebrows shot up. “Where’d you find this?”
“It was in a locked cabinet in the kitchen,” Ian shrugged, sitting on the coffee table. “Since it was locked I figured there had to be something good inside.”
Turning the bottle over in his hands, Ryan recognized it as a bottle of whiskey his father had kept.
“Ah! A good stiff drink is just what this situation calls for,” the wiry silver haired Irishman who had been upstairs with Maggie announced cheerfully as he entered the room, clapping his hands. “Good year this bottle was. Be a good boy, Ryan, and poor us some drinks.”
Ian blinked at the whirlwind that was the little man even as he saw Roarke pull back at the new voice, wiping his face quickly.
“Don’t want any of…” he started to object when the older man plopped down on the sofa on his other side and laid a hand, slightly weathered with age, on his leg.
“It’s the height of bad manners when any true Irishman refuses to drink with kin, boyo.” His eyes bright as he grinned, took the glass, and held it up to the light. “Especially when that kin is your own grandfather and the drink is an excellent aged whiskey.”
Ryan smiled into his own glass, knowing he’d be answering questions until hell froze over from Ian over this. “One drink, Roarke. It’ll settle things a bit.”
He poured some of the amber liquid into a glass, then while Lorcan Kerrigan kept Roarke’s attention, he shifted his wrist slightly. “Drink up, then we’ll go see if I should toss Mac outta the house.”
“You...” Ian began when a sharp kick shut him up then he blinked at the glass that was shoved into his hands. “I’ve never really…”
Lorcan shook his head, his full thick mane of silvery blond hair moving. “Damn bloody shame too, lad. I had me first drink at the age of two at my own sainted grandpa’s knee.”
Hesitating, Ian caught Ryan’s shrug that meant he might as well, and saw that Roarke had downed the single drink without a wince, so he did the same and then saw stars.
“Should probably have warned the lad this is one hundred fifty year old stuff and will kick like a mule,” Lorcan mused, holding his glass out for a refill.
Ryan shot his grandfather a sour look, then looked to see that Roarke was staying still as the combo of the liquor and the sleeping spell he’d slipped into it started to work, which allowed him to grab Ian before he fell forward.
“Just breathe through it, kid,” he laughed, gently slapping his baby brother on the back until he stopped choking.
“Lorcan!” the sharp accusing tone of his wife had the wiry little man sitting up straight.
Fiona entered the room and took in the sight with one look. “Are we trying to get our grandsons drunk on purpose?”
“Now, Fi, this isn’t what it appears.” He began soothingly but stayed sitting as one brow rose. “It’s a man’s right to have a drink with…”
“I told Ian to get the liquor, Gram,” Ryan broke in once Ian was breathing again. “Though Ian drinking it wasn’t exactly in the cards.”
Shaking her head at both her husband and the elder of her present grandsons, Fiona walked over to look at Roarke who had fallen asleep still sitting up. “This will hurt him more.”
“We’ll see,” Ryan spoke quietly, downing his second drink easily then rising to his feet to pull his brother up with him. “Right now, all the brat needs is to sleep this off.”
Ian, still unsure about all this, decided to help his brother get Roarke upstairs. “You think it’ll be that easy?”
“I make a good chunk of my living off weighing the odds, Ian,” Ryan had just shifted to lift his sleeping brother up over his shoulders to go upstairs. “I never make a wager I don’t think I can win, lad.”
As the boys left the living room, Lorcan Kerrigan lost some of his cheer as he reached for the whiskey bottle again. “They will suffer so much before this is over.”
“Aye, my heart, I fear you’re correct,” Fiona sat on the sofa with a sigh, waving a hand toward the bottle to bring it to her. “I think you’ve had enough of this and it can be put to use elsewhere,” she decided, standing to go see to her other boys. “Don’t be annoying to those lads outside.”
Lorcan laughed as his wife walked out silently and he sat back on the couch, wondering what else he could find interesting.
Maggie Cavanaugh had watched silently while Patrick ‘Mac’ Fitzgerald and Peter Daniels worked to stop the bleeding that was very close to costing Jessica Hadley her life.
Finally, after what seemed like hours, Peter stepped back. “If those stitches hold and she stays stable overnight then it looks good.” He didn’t add that it had better stay that way since they were out of blood to use as replacement.
“Damn bloody lucky that that bullet missed all vital organs and didn’t do any muscle damage.” Mac countered bitterly, slumping back on the floor and accepting the clean towel Maggie handed him.
“Was it luck or skill?” Kerry asked quietly from where he’d been standing by the window all through the operation.
Mac scowled as he got to his feet, temper still on the surface. “Roarke shot Jessica through the bloody chest, Kerry!” he snapped, whirling. “None of us were expecting him to do that and he couldn’t have known it wasn’t a kill shot. No one’s that good.”
“Little brother is that good and I knew what he was planning,” Ryan spoke from the door.
Having taken his brother to his old room and gotten him settled while Ian helped Deirdre wash some of the blood off and treat his hand where he’d slammed it into the mirror, Ryan had gone to change himself, then decided to check on the others.
“You knew he was planning on shooting her?” Mac was livid but Maggie’s slim hand kept him still as his brother came into the room. “Do you have any idea the risk if I couldn’t save her?” he demanded. “She can still die if infection sets in if I can’t heal her totally.”
“Roarke can heal that once he wakes up,” Ryan shrugged, looking at the young woman to see she was pale under the blankets, and felt the low emotions that the painkillers and Mac’s powers hadn’t dulled. “He had reasons.”
“He risked her life!” Mac shot back, all the recent events making his normally calm temper snap as he went nose to nose with his unusually calm brother. “It was plain stupid macho tricks. How do you think she’ll feel if she wakes up to learn her so-called ‘boyfriend’ shot her?”
Maggie was watching this closely, knowing that with the tempers involved, this could get ugly, when Kerry finally stepped between his brothers.
“Relax, Mac,” he urged, looking at Ryan. “You should have told us.”
“If I had, one of you would have stopped it and Roarke needed it to go down like he planned it if he had any chance of pulling the lass out alive,” he shrugged, running his hands through his long black hair as he wondered how to explain this.
Ryan walked around their parents’ former suite, fingering a small photo on the master fireplace as he did so. “He figured out in the cemetery that he had to face Sebastian down and what he’d use against him. The question was how he could get the surprise on Sebastian without Jessica being hurt more.”
“I’d guess shooting her worked,” Mac snorted, turning to walk away when he suddenly felt himself yanked around.
“Go look at him and then tell me he isn’t hurting more by what he had to do,” Ryan shot back angrily. “All this pain, the guilt he’s had has tripled by knowing that he hurt this girl when he’d rather cut his own heart out, but do you think he’d have risked it if he hadn’t found a way to let her know it would happen?”
Several sets of eyes looked at the security expert w
arily, then Kerry sighed. “You were working against Sebastian’s spell on Jessica while his attention was centered on Roarke. That was how she was able to speak to him, but not what Sebastian wanted her to say.”
“Gold star for you, big brother, nice guess,” Ryan smirked; this night’s events had left him rawer than he had been in years. “I couldn’t break the full spell but did allow their link to come back enough that she could feel Roarke’s thoughts. He needed her to understand and trust that he could do it.”
“But will she when she wakes up?” Maggie had to ask, remembering what she had seen and the residual effects she’d picked up from Mac. “That thing hurt her so much, so will she be able to understand all that happened?”
This caused Ryan to frown at his older brothers. “How bad is it?”
“Physically, he molested her,” Mac sighed, suddenly too tired to argue. “Mentally, we’re not sure.”
“Sebastian’s cruel, so it’s a safe bet he hurt Jessica badly,” Kerry felt the mild tension and quickly ran his finger over her forehead to ease it. “Roarke fought him back once but it’s not over.”
Ryan rolled his eyes. “Yeah, we each have to go through this. Joy,” he muttered, and then glared when he felt his brother smack his head. “I wouldn’t.”
“While that’s true, we also have to do something else.” Kerry’s eyes were serious as he looked between his two brothers. “We need to recast our circle.”
Knowing what that meant, Mac looked at his left wrist and the small scar it held. A scar that shared by all five of them.
“It won’t matter if we’re not all on the same page,” Ryan slid an even look to Mac who finally nodded.
“I’m a doctor and healer so I jumped when I saw my brother shoot my friend. Sue me,” he muttered, looking at Maggie. “Sure you don’t want to skip that interview?”
Laughing slightly, Maggie just shook her head. “Nope, I’ll stick it out just to see what other surprises you have,” she looked when the door opened and her fingers closed on his arm. “There’s that leprechaun I told you was digging in your dresser.”