No Time to Cry (Nine While Nine Legacy Book 1)

by Stasia Morineaux

  “Is it because he’s leaving again?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Gideon leaving. He just got back and now he’s taking off again already.”

  “Why would I care? Are you worried I might miss him being mad at me or I might miss him telling me what I can’t do?

  He shrugged. ”He’s meeting with Deimari, our Roghnú.”

  My smile faded, my laughter drained away from me. The Roghnú. The one that delivered the death notices, my death notice.

  “Why?”

  “Don’t know for certain. They’ve had such an odd relationship for so long now though.” He shrugged. “He’s always been so private about it. And now to be away two days with her...”

  He watched me, as if waiting for a reaction. Well…I didn’t have one for him.

  I swallowed a down the lump that was forming in my throat, I had a bad feeling.

  Did Gideon have something going on with the Roghnú? Did he want something going on with her? That would just be great. The one who had delivered my death notice might be involved with Gideon. I felt like laughing. Not one of humor, but irony instead. You know, that ‘doesn’t it just figure, that’s so effed up’ kind of laugh.

  I sighed instead. “I just have other things to do tonight.”

  He eyed me warily. “The other night it just seemed like you…” He shook his head. “Like he…the way you were looking at him. It’s bad enough I’ve had to hurt you. I don’t want to see it from him too. Deimari…she strings him along. You shouldn’t have to go through it with him as well. I thought you should know. Just in case.”

  “There’s nothing to worry about. There are no feelings there. Really, I’m going straight home to write.” I poked at him. I’m pretty sure he was on his way to see Serena, so why shouldn’t I do something that might irk him?

  “Is there a problem?” Gideon cut in just as Liam was giving me that disapproving, warning look of his.

  “Liam, why don’t you go on ahead, be on your way. I assume you have a girl waiting?”

  Ouch.

  Gideon looked at me when he’d said those words. So not cool. He didn’t look at Liam as he left us, but kept his sight locked on me instead.

  Was he waiting for me to break down in tears or something else equally dramatic?

  “So, is there a problem?”

  “Not that I’m aware of.”

  ‘We never got to finish our conversation about your writing.”

  “What’s to say? I’m a writer. I write.”

  “The topic, Draghail. The topic is the problem.” He moved closer to me, keeping his voice low as he spoke.

  “Fiction Gideon. It’s all fiction and fantasy.” Why-oh-why did I have to react to him the way I do? Why did my body and brain insist on defying me? I could feel his hands tangled in my hair, his arm around my waist. It was so distracting when I was trying to be distant. “They’re just dreams Gideon, dreams from a long time ago, and dreams I’m having now. No big deal.”

  I told him everything, more or less, that I’d already told Liam, the contents of the notes on my flash drive and what I was writing about. I told him to feel free to go to the website and read it. “Not my fault if my dreams from five years ago turned out to be reality.”

  “I have to advise you this is most likely not a wise choice.”

  “Maybe it’s not. Maybe it’s therapeutic.” I shrugged. “I need something to balance out all of this…”.” I threw my hands up. “…death.”

  The wind caught my hair and played in it. It drew my attention away from Gideon. I heard it in the trees all around us. I closed my eyes and listened…heard it in a language I didn’t comprehend with my brain, but with my mhésen. It whispered to me, it wanted me to play.

  I opened my eyes to find Gideon closer to me, watching me carefully.

  “Draghail,” he purred deeply in his throat, stirring awake that something in me. I felt my skin ripple with it. And I knew it was time to run, before it surfaced. Before my legs could go weak and I couldn’t move.

  All I could think of is the way he dragged me off Eyvindur, and claimed that kiss. Claimed something in me.

  I backed away from him, looking up at the sky, the light sprinkle of a beginning rain, the nearly full moon peeking from behind parting clouds in the dark sky.

  “Gonna go now Gideon.” I said, still looking up.

  “Let me drive you,” He offered, stepping closer still. I kept backing away. The wind, the rain, the moon were, beckoning me. My spirit soared and I felt the glimmering rising towards the surface. After the night at Allegory I didn’t think it was the wisest thing to let him see it. In addition, my back itched, tingled, felt kind of razed …all very similar to the tattoo.

  “Thanks, nah, I’m just around the corner.” I smiled, tilted my head, gazing at him. ‘It’s a good night for dancing in the rain.”

  I spun, my face turned up to the increasing drizzle. I could feel that radiant power within me wanting released, but I restrained it. It would only pull me closer to Gideon and that was treading waters that were too dangerous for my heart to traverse right then. I didn’t want to feel anything for someone that had a ‘thing’ for someone else. I didn’t need any more complications. I’d gotten over Liam…I would get over Gideon.

  I stopped spinning and met his eyes. There was something there. It had replaced that awful, much dreaded, reproachful look he’d had. Is it wonder? Mixed with puzzlement? A smile, a very tiny hidden smile threatened to escape his lips. Those lips. Why was he looking at me like that if he had interests in another woman?

  My power taunted me, telling me to go to him, claim him right back. But I wouldn’t. I grinned, my cat-that-ate-the-canary smile. “Behind those clouds is a moon nearly full. I wouldn’t miss being out in this for anything. It’s wild and free.”

  An image of me firmly in his arms, out in the woods, under this moon, captive to his kisses and desire, surged through my mind, making me pause momentarily.

  I pushed it away, pretending it was not there, smiled, and laughed. I took two spins with my arms raised in the air, then ran my hands through my rebellious and loose long curls, and danced away down the sidewalk, waving to him.

  “See you soon Gideon.” I turned away, kicking fallen leaves on the sidewalk playfully.

  Feeling the moon, the wind, and the night all through me.

  Feeling his eyes on my retreating figure.

  Which made me smile even more.

  ~ Chapter Twenty-Nine ~

  Gideon’s near a cottage at the edge of the woods. There is a woman with him, but not the one from before. This one appears to be younger and she has long silky blond hair that reaches her lower back, and a shapely figure…she’s pretty, though she’s not as tall as me. I think she’s kind of on the short side for him, barely reaching his chest.

  She’s reaching for him, in too friendly of a way for my liking, almost as though they have been intimate, there is just that familiarity to the manner in which she touches his arm, lays her hand against his chest. I hate the look on her face. It’s one of seduction. She wants Gideon and I hate her.

  She sees me in the woods, watching them, and gives me a look and a smile of derision that suggests nothing less than contempt and jealousy. But she’s the one with him why should I receive this look?

  And then it strikes me, crashes into my head like a ton of books dropping from the top library shelf. She is the Roghnú. And she was the one in the dream that chased me down and threw me to the ground, tried to kill me.

  I yell to Gideon, to warn him…

  It took me only a few seconds to catch on that I was awake and not in a forest, I had fortunately only cried out within my dream and not in the back room of Elysium. Even though I was the only one in the room, it would have been terribly embarrassing had anyone heard me yell myself to wakefulness.

  I’d nodded off while reading a book in the comfy retro ‘30s armchair…the one Gideon usually sat in. The afternoon sun pouri
ng in the large window must have lulled me to nap-land. What a sucky dream.

  What exactly was I to make of these ongoing dreams?

  I think I’d proven to myself they were real. Gideon had to know something. Must be able to tell me something more by now. It had been almost an entire month.

  Only a month? Had all of this happened in just one month? It seemed like so much longer.

  “Oh bugger,” I sighed, borrowing one of Liam’s phrases. What to do for the next hour or so until meeting up with Erin for some Halloween fun. She had invited me and the others to a feast and bonfire party taking place at the home of a friend of hers who lived near the woods.

  My cull had been at11:00 am and I’d had the remainder of the day to myself—the entire crisp, cool, Halloween day to do with as I pleased. The sky was that brilliant blue you only get in autumn, with a scattering of the puffiest white clouds I’d seen in quite some time. I could feel Halloween in the air or as Michael had informed me, Deireadh an Samhraidh. I’d known of the holiday before, the history, the rituals, all of it—I’d written about it in one of my novels, so I’d done my research—but I’d never personally attended any Deireadh an Samhraidh celebrations, and I’d always called it Samhain in my books. Michael told me in their language it was Deireadh an Samhraidh, meaning Summer’s End.

  At first I’d gone home to write, but was too fidgety, I felt the need to be outdoors in that air, and eventually found myself walking to the coffee house, of course the silly Brom had followed me. Oddest cat ever.

  I had that pins-and-needles feeling again. Maybe a change of venue…maybe I should stop by the pub for a pumpkin ale, since it was on my way home. I was back to feeling restless, oddly impatient. But I wasn’t really sure about what.

  Was it this whole Gideon/Roghnú thing? Obviously if I couldn’t be with Liam, there was no hope of the rules being different where Gideon was concerned, so then what did it matter if Gideon wanted the Roghnú. Though I still had no idea why Liam could be with Halah, but not me. So maddening.

  Or maybe it was just the weather making me edgy. The wind scented with fall leaves and fires burning somewhere in the neighborhood. There was a definite energy in the air that was different than any other autumn day so far. I knew I could contribute that to it being Samhain. It was a day of magic and mysteries and tonight would be even more so.

  As I descended the steps of the coffee house I watched the shadows of the leaves playing across the ground in front of me, so pretty the way the late afternoon sun did that just right. And I stumbled, quite gracefully, off the last step…and right into Gideon. He caught me before I could tumble to my knees, steadied me by my arms. He held me away from him, but didn’t let me go as he walked me away from the steps and closer to the garden.

  “Where are you off to in such a hurry Iliana?” The way he said my name made me shiver. He gave me that all-knowing look of his, slightly disapproving with just a little more than a touch of distrustful.

  Why did that have to send a pang through my heart? I didn’t want him being suspicious of my actions all the time, or always expecting, or waiting, for me to screw up either.

  He’s just my boss…just my boss. Nothing more. Forget the dreams. Forget the stupid Roghnú.

  “I have to leave, stuff to do…” I looked down at his hands where they held my bare arms; the skin felt on fire where they firmly clutched me.

  He was so very close to me.

  “More writing?” And he was angry…of course he was angry.

  I could feel it rolling off of him. His chest was heaving and he was shaking as if trying to contain his rage. Had I really thought that just because we’d had a couple of nice nights out, getting along just fine, that he’d ever not find fault with me?

  I was still looking down at his hands, he had wonderful strong hands, his fingers were long, thick, his palms just the right amount of rough, by no means were they soft.

  I finally dared to look up at his face. His eyes had that measured, almost cold, somewhat furious look in them. My heart was pounding, but at the same time, I so loved when he had that assertive, unyielding power exuding forth…nearly as much as when he was happy, smiling and laughing with me. I just stood there, not sure what to do…just feeling his flesh against mine, breathing him in, breathing with him.

  “No…not tonight…” I trailed off. He was looking at my arm, my tattooed arm.

  “Nice tattoo.” He growled.

  “Oh.”

  “Oh?”

  “Was I supposed to get your permission first for that too?” Something in me kind of snapped. I was the mad one now…or too. I tried to pull my arm away, but he held firmly, moving us further from the house and deeper into the shadows near the gazebo.

  He turned my arm up roughly to view the full piece of ink, his breath hissed from between clenched teeth when he saw the entire design.

  “What is this?” He seethed.

  “A tattoo.” This conversation seemed familiar.

  He shot me a furious look. “Why this? Where did you see this?”

  “The same place I’ve been seeing everything lately, wherever it is I go in my dreams.”

  “And the things you’ve been writing about, dreams as well?”

  “Yes, I told you that already.”

  He dropped my arm. He still looked completely raging, but he was pale now.

  “By the way, where’s my necklace?”

  He shot me a withering look. Why did he appear so conflicted at the same time?

  He paced away from me, running his hand through his hair, messing it up quite nicely.

  “You’re meeting with the Roghnú, the one that chose me to die?” Why did I feel so betrayed by that? I wasn’t sure why I’d asked, he had said that’s where he was going. It would be easier to fall back on the claim that everything we shared was only in dreams, but that was not really true.

  The way he talked to me, touched me, looked at me…there was more to it, than mere dreams.

  The wind picked up ruffling the leaves above me. It drew my attention upward. Brom Tom was stretched out across one of the big branches. The sun painted his pale orange fur a bright sunset hue. It must be around four o’clock.

  That magical quality was taking over the garden; amber, bronze, burnished gold. It connected to that place in me where my power rested. Everything went into soft focus and yet was sharper at the same time. The air became silk and velvet simultaneously, and more tranquil.

  I could hear the crows beginning their echoing conversations. The breeze wrapped around me, held me, spoke to me softly, secretly, soothing.

  And then it dropped the bomb on me.

  “Yes, I am. I told all of you that yesterday.”

  “She was with you in the woods, at the cottage.” I said incredulously. “I saw you with her. The blond woman, long blond hair. She’s the Roghnú. Deimari.” I felt sick.

  “What are you talking about?” I wouldn’t have thought he could become any more drained of color, but he did.

  “You know all about the dreams.” I snapped out a short flippant laugh. “Oh my gods…you know all about them, and yet you stand here and make me detail them all out to you? You know why, how it’s happening, how I’m bringing things back, and that I’ve been driving myself mad trying to figure it all out.”

  He had nothing to say.

  A thought dawned on me, and I’m sure I paled. “So you were there in the dreams. Are they even dreams?” He was there, he knew everything. He’d been in the pool. He’d been in the woods. He’d been the rider. All those first kisses belonged to him. All his passion in the ‘dreams’ was his...not just of my minds making.

  I swayed.

  Steadied myself with a hand against the tree.

  He was livid, infuriated but still pale, as he pushed my entire body against the tree, holding me there with his own body.

  “You were there?”

  “Yes! That’s what I’ve been telling you.” I gritted my teeth.

  His
body was firm against the length of mine; his closeness was nothing but cruelty to me at this point. But that glimmering inside me unfurled and did its thing, reaching through every cell of me, traveling through my limbs and out of my flesh. It wrapped around my heart and reached out to him, I could feel my wings extending from my back.

  His face was so close to mine, searching my eyes, and I wanted him. I still wanted him. My body relaxed into him…but my brain ranted on.

  “She wants me dead; your precious Roghnú wants me dead. Did she tell you that? Is that why the two of you were so cozied up?”

  He made a growling noise deep in his throat and spun me away from the tree, shoving me away from him as he did, leaving me stumbling away from him.

  “What are you playing at little girl?” He snarled at me.

  “I might ask the same of you. What are you doing to me Gideon? It’s heartless. It’s cruel.” I wiped hot tears from my face. Angry at them for being there. “Do you even have a heart?” I spit out at him.

  He stalked over to me, looking taller than his six-feet-five-inches, as if he had increased as his anger had grown.

  I backed a step away. I could feel my wings at my back, no longer spreading toward him to embrace him. The power had receded back into me, coiled back into my mhésen. I hated that I could smell him, that scent of spice and smoke and woods. It made me feel weak, breathless. It took me back to the forest, to his kiss.

  He grabbed me roughly, holding me from backing any further away from him. His breathing was rough, his eyes merciless, whether with denied passion or reined in wrath I didn’t want to know, and didn’t want to stick around to find out.

  “Síos a Tabhair leat an gaoithe, A dúnmharú ar préachán, Le éadóchas, Tar léanta milis searbh...”I spoke the words softly, breathlessly, yet they resonated in the afternoon breeze beneath the shadowy trees.

  A shiver ran the course of my spine and through my bones, as I exhaled those words. And I knew what they meant, but I didn’t know where they were coming from. But I could feel them in me, echoing from deep within me, from the place my own power dwelt. It’s that language...of the Rúnaigh.