The Reluctant Amazon (Alliance of the Amazons)

by Sandy James

  Artair will help me.

  Rebecca needed his strength and his wisdom. “I need—I need to go.” With a blink, she flashed out of the Stay Inn.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Artair carried Sparks’s body out of the cave. Day had come, and the sun shone bright. The warmth didn’t reach him.

  Johann was waiting with the van as he’d promised. The Amazons were gone, and so he’d probably taken them to wait with Megan at the Stay Inn. His normal cockiness seemed subdued.

  “Helen killed her?” he asked in a reverent whisper.

  “Aye. Rebecca hunts Helen now.”

  What else could Artair tell Johann about what had happened? That Rebecca was now a goddess, perhaps a rogue goddess they might have to one day face in battle? He took a deep breath and tried not to think that way. His Becca would never become what Helen had become. He laid Sparks in the van and covered her body with a blanket.

  “What do you want me to do?” Johann pulled the back door shut, effectively sealing Sparks in her temporary tomb.

  “Watch after the lasses. I must find the child.” Then I must find Becca.

  “Child? What child?”

  “A long story. Helen kidnapped the next Earth and murdered Rhiannon’s priestess who fostered her. I shall find the bairn and care for her until Becca returns.” Artair pointed to the van. “Go. Watch over the Amazons. Rhiannon will send the changelings to take care of Sparks.”

  Johann nodded, slipped into the driver’s seat and drove away.

  Artair found himself alone with his thoughts.

  How quickly could the goddesses restore Avalon so Sparks could have the hero’s burial she deserved? Losing Sparks led him to do something he’d never done for one of his warriors. He wept until he had no more tears to shed.

  Would he even be valuable as a Sentinel any longer? Would the changes, this softening in him, make him less able to train Amazons? Would he be able to make them tough if he’d lost his own edge?

  No. What Rebecca had given him wasn’t causing him to become weak—her love made him strong. He’d promised to stay at her side, and it was a vow he would keep. With his knowledge of hand-to-hand and ancient weapons and Johann’s knowledge of technology and modern weapons, the two would complement each other. Perhaps the two Sentinels would make the Amazons even stronger.

  Artair’s mind was full of Rebecca, full of concern that twisted his gut. She had become to him all he had ever desired. A friend. A lover. A wife.

  But would she return to the kind, caring woman he’d fallen in love with, or would she only be a shell of what she’d once been? Or worse, would she change into another selfish goddess like Rhiannon?

  His heart clenched.

  Come back to me, Becca. Please come back to me.

  * * *

  Standing in the abandoned cabin, Artair held the baby girl in his arms. He felt awkward and feared he would be too rough with her. He’d never handled an infant before. As much as he desired a child of his own, he’d never learned what being a father entailed.

  Was she fragile? Bairns were supposed to be fragile. Weak necks. Soft heads. Delicate bones. Would he hurt her by cradling her against his chest?

  His hands were too big, too clumsy. Surely the child wouldn’t want the attentions of a battle-hardened warrior. She needed a mother to comfort her, not a man who had absolutely no idea what to do. But the beautiful little blonde smiled at him, and she made him smile in return. She felt good in his arms. She felt right.

  He kissed her forehead and breathed in the girl’s sweet smell. It was so different than anything he’d ever known. A mixture of milk and talcum. So soothing. His heart swelled with the need to protect her, wanting to keep her safe and warm. He couldn’t help but appoint himself her champion. She didn’t cry when he hugged her a little tighter. The only sound coming from her was a contented babble.

  His mind reeled from the startling twists and turns his world had taken. It was almost too much to process, so he had simply gone about the tasks needing to be done to help keep his hands occupied and his mind focused. Now that he had nothing to do but care for the baby and wait, his thoughts haunted him like ghosts prowling ancient tombs.

  Rebecca was gone, and he had no idea for how long. The sun had already set. Where was she? With her sisters? By all the Ancients, he hoped so. Perhaps they could help her find herself again.

  A daughter of Gaia. Artair could hardly acknowledge the implications. Gaia was mother to gods dating to the dawn of time. She was mother to the Titans. If he could trust Helen, which he wasn’t sure was wise, Rebecca and the child he cradled in his arms had the potential to become powerful beings, perhaps the most powerful the world had ever known.

  “I love her. I can’t lose her,” he whispered to the bairn.

  Her reply was another smile that he couldn’t even enjoy.

  What would happen to his Rebecca? Power corrupted. Power ruined. Power consumed. Her human heart would be crushed beneath the weight.

  The bairn cooed, and the sound calmed him. He set a pinkie into the palm of her tiny outstretched hand. He chuckled when her fingers closed around it, squeezing it tight.

  “You’ve the grip of a warrior, lassie. What’s your name? What should I call you?”

  Then she cooed, so warm and so bonny she stole his heart forever. A perfect name popped into his head. “Bonnie. Your name shall be Bonnie.”

  The flash of light took him by surprise. He held the infant hard against him, sheltering her from any danger.

  Rebecca materialized in the middle of the cabin, but she wasn’t herself. Winds whipped around her, blowing blond hair in a frenzy and giving her a ghostly look.

  Then the winds suddenly stilled. She stared at the infant.

  “You found her,” she said in a breathless gasp, nodding at Bonnie. She slowly crossed to Artair’s side. “Thank you for protecting her. I need to make sure she’s safe.”

  “Are you well, Becca mine?” Artair’s gaze scanned her from head to foot. She appeared to be healthy, but her face was flushed and he could see the fast pulse in her neck. Her clothing showed the strain of flying with the wind. Bare feet peeked out from her tattered workout pants. Torn and hanging loose over her shoulders, the shirt still bore his brooch where she’d pinned it over her heart.

  He reached out to cup his wife’s face.

  She shook her head, forcing his hand away. “I need your help. I can’t be a goddess. I don’t want to be a goddess.” She covered her ears and groaned. “Make them stop. Please make them stop.” Her brown eyes squeezed shut. “Make them leave me alone. Go away! Stop talking to me!”

  Artair set Bonnie in her crib. Her trusting blue eyes stared up at him. “I’ll be back, lassie.”

  He enfolded Rebecca in his embrace. She kept trembling palms pushed tightly against her ears and pressed her face hard into his blood-stained shirt. Things had gone too far, she was almost lost to the realm of the Ancients.

  Only one being could help her now, and it wasn’t him. “Rhiannon!” he called. “Please, m’lady! We need you!”

  The goddess appeared behind Rebecca. She frowned for a moment and then reached out a hand. “Give her to me, Arthur.”

  He wouldn’t let Rebecca go that easily. “You’ll help her rid herself of the pull of the Ancients? You’ll restore her to what she was?” Rhiannon would be angry at his asking such impertinent questions, but Rebecca was unable to protect herself. “You’ll really help her?”

  Rhiannon shot him a scowl. “Of course. Give her to me, Arthur. I shall restore her humanity and re-create her as my Amazon.”

  Reluctantly, he turned a distressed Rebecca in his arms and gave her a small, gentle push. “Go to her, Becca mine. Let the goddess heal you.”

  Hands still pressed to her ears, she took a few reluctant steps. “Please make them stop,” she begged in a voice ragged and raspy, eyes large with fear. “I don’t want this. I never wanted this. Make them stop. Make the voices stop.”

 
Rhiannon put a palm against Rebecca’s chest, over her heart, and began to chant words Artair didn’t comprehend. The goddess’s hand glowed a vivid red.

  A violent wind whipped inside the cabin, knocking pictures from the walls and causing Bonnie to wail.

  Artair picked the bairn up, held her firm against his chest and retreated to what he hoped was a safe distance. “Shh, dearling. ’Twill be fine.”

  But he wasn’t so sure.

  Lightning stuck so close it fairly crackled the air around them, followed quickly by a clap of thunder that shook the walls. Rebecca’s eyes were closed, her face distorted in pain. She gripped Rhiannon’s free hand as if it was the last life preserver on a sinking ship.

  He wanted to stop this. Rhiannon must have lied. She was selfish enough to use this opportunity to hurt Rebecca. Artair swallowed the lump in his throat. He needed Rebecca. He needed his wife at his side. If the goddess hurt her, he would never forgive himself.

  Still glowing brightly, Rhiannon’s palm left Rebecca’s chest and dropped to her belly. The red flared to orange as the goddess’s chanting grew louder.

  Suddenly, a scream ripped from Rebecca’s throat and she crumpled to her knees.

  Rhiannon’s hand pressed firmly against Rebecca’s chest again, the cadence of the sing-song mantra growing faster as the winds increased. Furniture slid across the shaking wooden floor. The walls groaned as they bowed and trembled. Then the windows shattered from the force of the gale.

  The bairn’s cries were barely heard above the din. Artair had no idea what to do. Two females needed him. His wife and the child. Whom did he choose to help?

  Before the decision had to be made, everything stilled and Rebecca collapsed.

  Artair hurried to her side and dropped to his knees beside her. Balancing Bonnie on his shoulder with one hand, he reached out to brush Rebecca’s tousled hair away from her face. Was she breathing? Surely Rhiannon hadn’t killed her.

  “Becca? Answer me, love.” Her only response was a groan. At least she was still alive. He sighed in relief.

  Rhiannon came to stand beside them. “She will be fine. I cannot imagine how hard it must have been to have powers such as she held wrenched from her.”

  “But she will be herself again?”

  Rhiannon’s hair was in tangles, her demeanor subdued. It was the first time he’d seen any vulnerability in her. She answered his question with a curt nod. Closing her eyes, she waved her hand in a small circle. The goddess’s appearance returned to the cold, serene state he’d always known. Her clothing was immaculate, her hair perfection and her selfishness firmly back in place.

  “Aye, she’ll be fine,” the goddess said. “Now give me the child.”

  Artair narrowed his eyes. Bonnie had calmed in his arms, and he was reluctant to let her go. “Why? She’s nae your daughter.”

  “Ah, but she is. She is Earth. I will give her to one of my priestesses. Helen slayed the child’s mother. It is my responsibility to find her a new one.”

  “Nay. Let her stay with me.” Then the perfect solution struck him, making his heart skip a beat. Why hadn’t he seen it sooner? Bonnie and Rebecca needed each other, and he needed them both. Rebecca had been desperate to ensure the baby’s safety. Even as she battled Helen, risking her own life, she still worried about Bonnie. “Let her stay with Becca. The lass wants a child of her own.”

  Rhiannon shook her stubborn head. “Amazons cannot be mothers.”

  Assured Rebecca was only exhausted not hurt, he rose to challenge the goddess. “I know your rule, but I don’t agree with it. It hasn’t been a problem with these women before. They haven’t complained. But it is a problem now.” He looked to Rebecca. “’Tis a heartache for her. Let her mother this child.” He patted Bonnie’s back. “Who best to teach her? Who best to foster the bairn’s powers as she grows? Becca and I will parent her. We’ll teach her and turn her into a powerful Amazon.” He played to the goddess’s vanity. “She’ll do you proud, m’lady. She’ll outshine the others of her generation. Perhaps those of any generation.”

  “So you say.” The goddess glanced down at Rebecca. “And you think she will make a good mother? This wife of yours.”

  He should have known Rhiannon would find out his secret. “Seems you know about the handfast. Aye?”

  “Silly man. I am the Lady of the Lake. I am the Goddess of the Isle. I am the keeper of Excalibur. I am Rhiannon. I know all.” She narrowed her eyes. “I should part you. I should send her away. I should give that child to a loyal priestess, not to two of those who serve me yet dishonor me, those who marry without my permission.”

  “Don’t blame Becca. She knows nothing of the handfast.”

  “Ah, but she said the words. She pledged herself to you with her own mouth, with her own words. Did she not?”

  Artair drew his lips into a grim line. “Aye.” He didn’t wish to resort to begging, but if that was what Rhiannon required to give Rebecca this child, this beautiful daughter who should belong to them, he would pay the price.

  Rhiannon’s angry features returned to her more customary serene mask. “Perhaps you have need of letting her know you have taken her to wife. The news might cheer her and help her through her difficult transition. You may keep the child for now, but I expect great things of her, Arthur.”

  His heart leaped. “I shall remain a Sentinel?”

  Rhiannon arched a delicate eyebrow. “And what do we tell Johann? That we no longer require his assistance?”

  “Nay. The lad brings much to your service. Can there nae be two of us? Can he be my brother as the lasses are sisters?”

  “A brother?” She tilted her head, considering him closely. “Aye. A brother to replace the one whose life you saved but were forced to leave behind. A sad story, that.” A smile slowly crossed Rhiannon’s lips. “Two Sentinels. ’Twill be amusing. Two alphas battling for leadership. And Johann is such a handsome rogue.”

  Artair almost laughed before he stopped himself.

  Rhiannon’s frown told him she’d caught his amusement.

  “So, Arthur, you will give up your humanity for Rebecca Massee?”

  “Rebecca MacKay. And, aye. I will stay by her side for as long as she lives.”

  “You have no idea how true your words are.” She gave him an amused chuckle. “Nay, you have no idea. I shall send the changelings to Johann to take Frida back to Avalon and prepare her for burial. I will come for you on the morrow.” She disappeared in her usual flare before explaining the little riddle she’d tossed his way.

  Artair was more focused on Bonnie than Rhiannon’s enigma. She’d never assured him that Bonnie would be given over to his care permanently, but he had too much to do to worry about it.

  Laying the now sleeping bairn in her cradle, he hurried to Rebecca’s side. Artair scooped her into his arms and carried her to the bed. Yanking aside the quilt, he gently set her down and smoothed her wild hair away from her face. Watching her chest rise and fall, he took comfort in the easy rhythm. After checking to be sure Bonnie was still asleep, he stripped off his blood-stained shirt, discarded his deerhide boots and stretched out next to Rebecca. He covered them both with the quilt and tugged her into his arms.

  When faced with nothing but quiet, it dawned on him that he’d been dead. He remembered watching his own lifeless body from a distance, hovering over Rebecca as she’d used her powers—the powers his death had given her—to breathe life back into him before his soul had strayed too far to call back. Had the magicks she’d wielded changed her? Had he lost his Becca to the alluring power?

  She sighed his name softly and snuggled a little closer against him.

  He kissed her forehead.

  As he allowed sleep to drug his mind, he realized there was much to be resolved if there was to be a happily ever after for his new family.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  The fussy cries of a baby woke Rebecca from sleep that felt as deep as death. The world slowly came into focus, her hazy vision of
little help. She had no idea where she was. And for a few chilling moments, she had no idea what she was.

  Then she realized the voices had mercifully stilled. Her mind was again her own, but it remained in tangles. The baby’s continued cries forced her to come to her senses.

  The bed groaned as a weight beside her left the mattress. She rolled to her side to see Artair, dressed only in his plaid, walk across the wooden floor. The man could move as silently as a ghost.

  “Ah, you’re awake, Bonnie mine,” he said in a hushed tone. “I suppose you’ll be needing some cleaning up and some breakfast.”

  The cries turned to coos and babbles that touched Rebecca’s heart. She pushed herself up on an elbow, feeling more than a little bit battered and bruised. Her muscles ached, and her joints were slow to bend. A groan escaped her lips.

  Artair turned. His gaze caught hers. He seemed to take a quick inventory of her, then he smiled. “Ah, you’re awake as well. ’Twould seem both my girls have finally chosen to greet the sun.”

  “Both your girls?”

  He nodded, turning back to smile down at the baby as he worked to change her diaper. “How does this unfasten?”

  As she heard him rip at the diaper’s tapes, she had to contain a smile at how unsure of himself he was because she was afraid he would think she was making fun of him. For once, the man wasn’t cocky and self-assured, and his infinite care and concern for the child made her heart swell with love.

  “I’ve decided to keep the bairn,” he announced as if he was talking about something as boring as the price of bread. “Seems as if the lassie needs a family. I appointed us for the job.”

  “Us?” That didn’t make any sense. Rhiannon would want to take the baby away and let another of her priestesses raise her. She didn’t dare believe Artair meant what he said. “You said us. As in you and me?”

  “Aye.” But he didn’t elaborate.

  Although the voices were silent and her mind was again her own, her thoughts still seemed disjointed and more than a bit surreal. Surely she was dreaming. She tried to make sense of where they were.