The faint glow underneath the door showed the outline of a huge bed, a chair, an open door opposite him that likely led to a bathroom. He scanned the room until he saw her, and it looked like she was still suspended by her arms. He holstered the gun and slid a combat knife out, walking quietly to the bed. He leaned over it, and saw no one. Moving past the bed, Kiernan checked the rest of the room and found it empty.
Why would they leave her alone? Unless –
Kiernan ran across the room, storing the knife as he grabbed her face, his hands lifting her head up so he could see her. She made a tiny sound as she took a sudden breath, and it was the best sound he had ever heard. His eyes stung and his chest ached; she was alive. Everything would be okay. He brushed his thumb over her cheekbone, whispering, “Neala? Neala, are you awake?” Her head lolled against his hands and he gently let her chin rest back against her chest. She was out cold, completely naked, hanging only by her wrists. Assholes.
Tracing his eyes up her arms he could see the rope around her wrists, and that it was looped over a metal hook that could have been a light fixture at one point. He wrapped his arms around her and tried to lift her off the hook, and she gave a weak scream. Kiernan immediately let go, and she dropped slightly.
“No, no, no…” Neala muttered and lifted her head, whimpering, “I won’t. I won’t.” Kiernan reached forward and touched her face, leaving a smudge of red behind on her pale cheek. Looking down at his arms he could see a dampness on his gear, and his hands were smeared with swipes of blood.
Her back.
“Neala, it’s Kiernan. I’m here, mo ghaol, I’m here.” He tried to wipe his hands off on his pants before he touched her face again, lifting her chin so she’d look at him. When her eyes opened she started crying and he thought his chest might implode from the pain of it.
“Are you really here?” Neala’s voice cracked as she spoke.
“Yes, Glowworm, I’m here, and I need to get you down.” He used the nickname and it worked, she woke up a little more. His feisty Faeoihn.
“I hate that name.” She growled the words out and it made him feel lighter inside, to know she still had the strength to be irritated with him.
“I know. I can’t touch your back, so I want you to wrap your legs around me and I can lift you that way.” He spoke with a smile, and a breathy laugh came out of her.
“This is the lamest excuse to get me against you I’ve ever heard.” She was smiling, and although she sounded dazed she let out another soft laugh. A tension in his chest broke when he heard her laugh, only she would be able to joke while bleeding and hanging from a wall.
“I’ll try to come up with even lamer excuses when we’re out of here. Come on.” Kiernan placed his hands at the backs of her thighs and he watched her arms tighten a moment before she swung her legs around his waist, and he held her there. He shifted her higher and secured her while he reached up and unhooked the rope. When she was loose he felt her arms go over his head and she buried her face against his neck, hugging him tight with her whole body.
“You really came for me,” Neala whispered it against his neck and he turned his head to place a kiss into her hair, taking a deep breath as the soft rain smell of her skin engulfed him.
“Did you think I wouldn’t?” If he wasn’t so elated to be holding her again, he would have been insulted.
“I thought you couldn’t.” Neala’s voice cracked again and he heard a sniffle. He brought one hand up to the back of her neck, trying to hold her as best he could without touching her back. Speaking of which…
“Nothing could have stopped me.” Kiernan squeezed the back of her neck, and tried to stay calm as the darkness rose in him again. “Now, tell me, how bad is your back?” She stilled against him, and he leaned his head away from hers. Neala still had her arms around his neck, and when she leaned back he could see bruising around her neck. It made his heart hammer harder in his chest. “Neala, tell me.”
She swallowed, looking down at the zipper of his jacket and not at his eyes, “Marik, Nikola’s son, the new master, asked Butler to show him how to use the whip. So, he did, and they used me for practice.”
“I know, I – I saw. I just need to know how bad it is.” The darkness in him that had temporarily abated on finding her alive grew and overwhelmed the joy he’d felt a moment before, because all of the images he’d seen in the glass were back in full color.
“It’s fine, I promise.”
Kiernan didn’t respond to her obvious lie, he didn’t think he could without screaming, so he lifted Neala and she dropped her legs from him. He leaned down and pulled her arms over his head. Underneath the rope he could see her wrists were raw and he walked with her to the window where he tugged the edge of the curtain back. Slipping out his knife again he sawed through the ropes and dropped them to the floor, clenching his teeth hard against the things he wanted to say. He cradled her wrists in his hands, a bitter bile rising in his stomach. Then he moved a hand to her elbow and started to turn her around so her back would be to the faint light from outside, but she stopped him. “You don’t want to see, Kiernan.”
“I need to.” He could hear the self-loathing in his voice; she’d been hurt because he’d been careless, because he hadn’t checked in. The images he’d seen in the observation glass, even moving fast, had been bad enough. Now, he felt like he should have watched it all in real time, so he would know what he had cost her.
Her hands cupped his face and she kissed him hard – he totally didn’t deserve it, but his hands slid into her hair as he kissed her back. She was brave, and strong, and so incredibly beautiful.
She was redemption.
“You don’t need to do anything. Dawn is a couple of hours away, I’ll be fine.” Her lips moved against his as she whispered and he wished he could hold her to him as tightly as he wanted.
“Neala, I need to see.”
“Kiernan –” she started to argue again, but he pressed a finger over her lips and turned her around. Her back was a bloody mess, and it was impossible to count the number of lashes. He bit down and tried to breathe through the rage inside him. It washed up like a cold tide, tugging at his feet, wanting to drown him in the darkness where it promised blood and vengeance and power and control.
“I’m going to kill them.” His voice wasn’t his own. He could hear the tremor of his rage in it and she turned around slowly in front of him, her wide blue eyes looking up at him. That little wrinkle appeared between her eyebrows, and he knew all of her senses had to be telling her to run from him. She should run from him. He was tainted, ruined, a failure. He didn’t deserve –
Neala slowly slid her hands around his waist and pressed herself against the front of him, squeezing him in a gentle hug that diffused the rage inside him like it was nothing. She was pure light, and as much as he hated himself for it, he let it swallow him. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders, staying high on her back, as he felt her nuzzling against his chest. By the gods, he loved her.
“Let’s get you out of here.” He whispered against her hair. “Hold on tight.”
“Wait! I can’t leave the girls again, you don’t know what they did to them because I left. I can’t do that to them again!” Neala talked quickly, a slight panic filling her voice as she leaned back from him.
“I already met them upstairs, and I swore I’d get them out. But, only after I got you out. I’ll come back right after you’re safe and secure.” Kiernan forced a smile, and she nodded and leaned her head against his chest. He took another breath against her hair and thought of his apartment. He focused and started to shift, but light suddenly burst in front of him and his grip on Neala slipped.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Ráj Manor, Caledon, Ontario
Explosive pain rocked her, and the bands were lit up so brightly that Neala had to close her eyes against it. Her lungs filled with a gasp and she bit down on her tongue to stifle the scream she had started. She realized when the pain first started to eb
b that she was on the floor, and she was on her back, which was likely why the pain was still so vicious. Rolling to her stomach she pushed herself up and shuddered as another surge came from the bands. Dark boots came into her vision and she looked up to see Kiernan gripping his left arm at the elbow where the vines were moving slowly up his skin.
“Apparently that is why we’re not allowed to remove Faeoihn from their masters.” He looked sick as he spoke and lowered himself to the floor next to her, all his weapons shifting around him.
“I get it now.” Neala almost choked on the words, and she felt sick with worry as she looked at the doorway, knowing at any moment Marik or Butler could reappear. Over the next few minutes her bands faded into a ghostly outline, and then slowly disappeared completely. Kiernan’s eyes traced her back and he winced while she maneuvered herself into a sitting position with her legs tucked to one side.
“I’m going to kill them, Neala.” Kiernan’s voice was so matter-of-fact, so cold, that she almost didn’t respond. When she looked at him she saw the pain in his eyes and knew it was pointless to argue, to ask him to leave her there and keep himself safe. He’d never do it.
“Alright, but I’m going to help.” She tried to straighten her back but a muscle spasm underneath her skin stopped her.
“You can’t do anything right now. We’ll wait for you to heal, and then we’ll leave the old fashioned way.” Kiernan had made a decision in his head, and he was determined. He wasn’t thinking clearly, not with his eyes glued to her back and that look of pain and rage in his eyes, but he was determined.
“Old fashioned?” Neala arched an eyebrow at him.
“The old fashioned method of just killing everyone in our way before we walk out the front door.” Kiernan slid one of the guns out of a holster and pulled the top of the gun back until it clicked and slid forward again. “I’m getting you out of here, Neala.” He leaned forward and kissed her again, and she couldn’t put into words how safe she felt next to him, despite their circumstances. He ended the kiss by running his thumb over her lips, and then he moved next to her and let her lay her head in his lap. She was still exhausted from the day, from the pain, and the bands, and as his fingers slid through her hair sleep slipped over her like someone had flipped a switch inside her.
Neala wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but she felt Kiernan lift her head as he suddenly moved out from under her. She started to ask him what he was doing but he quickly covered her mouth, and it was then that she heard the click of a key in the door. He stood next to her and tugged the curtain closed so the room fell into darkness again, and then he was moving towards the door. Neala tucked herself behind a chair near the window and waited. Since he was in all black she struggled to track Kiernan against the wall, and then the door opened spilling dim light from the hall into the room.
“You awake, Fae?” A male voice asked, filled with a sinister laughter. It was Evans who had pushed the door open, slipping the key back in his pocket, and he seemed to pause to wait for a response. “Doesn’t matter. Butler said to make up for your behavior this morning I could have some fun with you before dawn, and that means we’ve still got plenty of time.”
Neala’s stomach tightened as he laughed to himself, and she clenched her fists as anger overwhelmed any fears she had. Before she could move, Kiernan stepped like a shadow out of the darkness to the right of the door. One of his hands went over Evans’ mouth while the other brought a knife to his throat. Kiernan kicked the door shut and Neala couldn’t see them anymore, but she could hear them wrestling for the upper hand.
Desperate to see what was happening she twisted and reached up to rip the curtain back, yelping as she strained her back. She turned to see Evans struggling against Kiernan’s grip, but Kiernan was taller and stronger and clearly not exerting much effort to control him. She saw him lean forward to say something in Evans’ ear and the guard struggled even harder, but then Kiernan dragged the knife across his throat and dropped him to the floor. As he stood over the man and watched him bleed out she knew she was looking at Kiernan the warrior, the Laochra, the cold-blooded killer. He didn’t waver, his breathing was even, and he hadn’t dropped the knife yet.
Neala stood up behind the chair and the edge of her shadow passed over Evans on the floor. She wanted to speak, but she didn’t know what to say. Kiernan stayed still when he spoke, “I’m sorry. I should have killed him slower.”
“He’s dead, it’s -”
“He was going to -” Kiernan made a frustrated growling sound in his chest, “ - he deserved a slower death.” Kiernan spoke through gritted teeth and Neala walked over to him slowly, watching him carefully before placing her hand on his arm.
“It’s okay, will you come sit with me? I’m still tired.” She slid her fingers down his arm and interlaced them with his, tugging him back toward the window, away from Evans. The distraction of needing to care for her worked, and although his other hand tightened its grip on the knife, he let her lead him over to the window where it was brighter.
“I’m sorry, Neala, that I let this happen.” As they sat down Kiernan let the knife drop out of his hand to the floor next to him, and then he shoved both hands into his hair. She didn’t think he noticed the blood he swiped across his temple and into his dark hair.
“You didn’t let anything happen. Marik did this. When he signed that document his lawyers drew up to transfer the estate - he owned me. It was over. Everything else was the curse, and you couldn’t have stopped that even if you’d been standing right next to me.” Neala winced as Kiernan smacked his head hard back against the wall.
“I should have been there, I should have been here the second it happened.” He looked over at her and her heart hurt with how pained he looked; she wasn’t going to be able to convince him otherwise.
“You’re here now.” She squeezed his hand and he dropped his head back against the wall again, even harder. Neala sighed trying to distract him again. “What did you say to Evans?”
“That was his name?” Kiernan’s eyes found the body across the room and the muscles in his jaw ticked as Neala nodded, “I told him he won’t be lonely in death, because the rest of them would be joining him soon.”
“That would explain why he struggled so hard.” Neala muttered, and felt a sick sense of pride that Kiernan had done it. Her warrior.
“My turn for a question.” He pulled his eyes to her, tightening his hold on her hand for a second. “When you were waking up, you said ‘I won’t’… why? What were they trying to make you do?”
“They wanted your name.” She looked down at their hands.
“Why didn’t you just give it to them? You could have avoided -”
“They wouldn’t have stopped with that.” Neala interrupted him and spoke matter-of-factly, “Once they had your name they would have wanted where you lived, how you got me away from here, details of our time together. They would have wanted all of it. And if I was going to be stuck here, I wasn’t going to let them hunt you and ruin your life.”
“I would have enjoyed killing them as they came for me, trust me. But, like you said, I’m here now. You’re safe, and I won’t let them touch you ever again.” Kiernan pressed a kiss to the side of her head and she leaned against his shoulder.
They were quiet for almost an hour as she dozed in and out, until the glow on her skin started. Like always, at first it was as if she were under a spotlight, but then it was obvious that the light was coming from inside her skin. The glow steadily increased, fading smoothly from deep amber to bright gold. It lit up Kiernan’s blood stained hands, bounced off the weapons and clasps on his gear and made his eyes look gold as they reflected it back. A humming ran through her whole body as Eltera’s power touched her – it healed the skin of her back, wiped the bruises away and renewed her energy better than a cup of espresso. Kiernan had a look of wonder on his face that made her smile.
Now that it didn’t hurt to move, Neala climbed onto his lap and pulled his face to
hers to kiss him the way she’d wanted to when she first woke up. His arms went around her and he held her tight, pressing her against him. For a while she had thought she’d never get to kiss him again, never be held by him again.
That would have been a crime.
His fingers pressed against her freshly healed back, but she groaned a complaint into the kiss when her hands met the harsh fabric of his combat gear. No easy buttons, just layers and layers of cloth between her and him. Neala pressed herself against him, rocking her hips against the erection she could feel straining his pants. He groaned as well and leaned back from her, cradling her face. The light from her skin was fading, but the sunlight outside the window had already started to paint the sky a myriad of colors. It was time to go.
“I swear, as soon as we’re safe and alone, we’ll continue this.”
“Kiernan, please?” She grinned at him, the warm pulse between her legs was growing and urged her to strip him, and push him onto his back, and ride him until the orgasm wiped away everything that had happened since she saw him last.
“Glowworm, trust me, I want to fuck you. I want to spread you out and lick you until you’re screaming my name and begging me to stop.” He kissed her again. “But I want to do that when neither of us are covered in blood, and when our enemies are dead.”
Neala’s mouth had opened when he’d described what he wanted to do, a blush burning in her cheeks as memories of the last time he had held her thighs apart as he’d done exactly that. “I’m going to hold you to that promise, Kiernan.”
“You do that.” He grinned and shifted her off his lap, tossing her the little bag of clothes he’d kept on his back. “Those were the smallest we had, hopefully they fit, and,” he reached into a pocket and pulled out the silvery disc he’d made her, “I have this for you as well.”
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