by J. C. Wilder
“In life there are some things that cannot be measured.” She shrugged. “Who can put boundaries on the gift of limitless knowledge? What price would one pay to have one’s heart’s desire? Anything and everything, Quinn. That is what most would sacrifice for that kind of power.”
How well he knew that. He thought of Maeve and her thirst for revenge. He couldn’t help but wonder if she were quite so eager for vengeance now that she’d spent a day in Mortianna’s company.
“Not all of us are that mercenary.” He spoke quietly. “If I can’t look in the mirror every morning and like what I see, the price is too high.”
“Fool!” Mortianna gave a bark of laughter. “You’re weak just like your father.”
Out of the corner of his eye he saw one of the minions melt into a puddle on the floor. It was a welcome sight.
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” he said. “My father is a good, just man and I’m proud to be like him.”
Her eyes widened then narrowed. Turning, she noticed Alexandre and Val moving methodically destroying the minions by injecting them with water-filled syringes.
“Stop that!” She stalked toward Val then stopped. Her anger faded to shock when she realized she was restrained by the boundary of the circle. “What the—”
“It’s over,” Quinn said. “It’s time to put away your pain and anger.”
“You did this.” Mortianna swung round to face him. “You would betray your own flesh and blood?”
“For the love of my sister, yes.”
“Your own mother?” she shrieked.
“You were never my mother,” he shot back. “You’re nothing to me.”
“You’ll pay for this.” With a mad gleam in her eye, Mortianna raised her hands and pointed in his direction.
Quinn cast a quick protection spell around himself before the first blow fell and white light blinded him.
By the time Maeve reached the solarium, it was absolute chaos.
Most of the midget-demons lay melted on the floor, and the stench of cotton candy and wet copper was overpowering. Val and Alexandre, armed with brightly colored water guns, were dealing with the few that remained alive. One slammed into Val’s shoulder, and he stabbed it with a fat syringe. Seconds later it fell to the ground with a splat.
A tremendous crack rent the air, and Maeve saw Quinn fly across the room as if he’d been shot from a cannon. Her heart almost stopped when his body bounced off the window before hitting the floor.
If it weren’t for her cape, Maeve didn’t think she’d have recognized the witch. Mortianna stood near the casket, looking much older than she had the last time Maeve had seen her. Her eyes glowed with madness. Her gaze was fixed upon her son.
She was going to kill him.
“Make your choice, Maeve.” Val appeared beside her. “Is Quinn’s life worth the cost of your revenge?”
The witch was wringing her hands as Quinn rose from the floor. His movements were stiff, slow as if he were injured. He said something to the witch but she couldn’t hear him over the thudding of her own heart. When Mortianna raised her hands, Quinn did the same. Lightning broke from her fingertips and it was headed in his direction.
A shriek lodged in her throat as the bolt stopped midway between them, curling into a ball of light. As Quinn shifted his hands, the ball changed shape and moved closer to Mortianna. The witch scowled and leaned forward as if to put more effort into moving the ball of light. It inched back toward her son.
“Get more water and worry about your own problems. I’ll deal with Mortianna.” Maeve walked through the sea of flying bodies and melting minions, untouched. When one of the beasts came too close, she kicked it in the head with barely a pause.
“You can’t breach the circle,” Alexandre called from behind her.
A familiar energy pulsed here, at the edge of the pentagram. It was Quinn’s magic, and the knowledge wrapped around her like a favorite sweater.
While she couldn’t see anything, if she concentrated she could detect the edges of the circle. Holding up her hands, she gasped when the energy soaked into her skin. It raced along her arms then into her shoulders before coalescing in her abdomen.
Her head swam as the images, like slides, flipped before her eyes. None of it made any sense, but she took them in like a flower to the sun. When they faded, she blinked in time to see her lover falter and the ball of lightning swung toward him.
Without thinking, Maeve stepped into the circle behind her lover. She had the satisfaction of seeing Mortianna’s eyes widen when she realized Maeve had escaped. With her concentration broken, the ball shot back toward the witch. At the last minute she came to her senses and sent it whizzing back at Quinn.
“I’ll be damned,” Val muttered.
Maeve placed her hands on Quinn’s shoulders. Concentrating on their connection, she envisioned a brilliant white light collecting in her body. Slowly she eased it down her arms and into her hands. Exhaling, she released the light and sent it into him.
Quinn’s body jerked as if he’d been shocked with electricity. Brilliant white light flew from his hands headed for his mother. Blue sparks shot from the ball of light, and she shrieked when she was hit in the stomach. Doubled over, she fell to her knees, her eyes wide with shock and horror. She curled her arm over her abdomen and gasped for air.
Maeve stepped away from Quinn, careful to avoid his gaze. The witch wouldn’t be getting up anytime soon.
“How did you do that?” His eyes were a little wild, and he was also gasping for breath.
“She did it.” Maeve pointed to Mortianna. “She gave me the Knowledge of the Ages.”
“She did what?” His brows shot up, and he gaped at her.
“I know. I don’t get it either.” Maeve met his incredulous gaze. “She gave me the power of the ages before throwing me into the oubliette.” She looked down at her hands. “I’m not really sure what it means though.”
Quinn laughed, and Maeve stared at him, startled. He grabbed onto her arm as he was almost bent double.
“I don’t think it’s that funny,” she muttered.
“S-s-she defeated herself,” he gasped. “I don’t think she realized what would happen to her when she gave you her powers.” He waved his hand at the woman who lay on the floor, glaring at both of them. “Mortianna was the most powerful, and she was the Keeper. It was up to her to safeguard the Knowledge and instead she gave it to you.” He was still breathing hard but now he was standing upright.
“What?” Mortianna hissed.
“You really didn’t know, did you?” Quinn said. “Only one person can hold the Knowledge at one time, and you gave it away.”
“You mean…” Stunned, Maeve looked at Mortianna, then back at Quinn. “I’m a witch?”
He nodded.
“A witch,” she repeated. “I’m like Glinda, only with better taste in clothes.” Her knees sagged, and he slid an arm around her, supporting her with his body.
“Steady now, Glinda. You don’t want to break your wand should you hit the floor.” Quinn teased.
“I—”
An enraged shriek sounded as Mortianna came up off the floor, a lethal Turkish knife in one hand. With murder in her eyes, she dove for them. Maeve shoved out of Quinn’s arms and took a flying leap, barreling into the witch’s side. Mortianna slid on the marble floor as Maeve withdrew her boot-knife. With her attention divided, she landed off balance and the two women crashed to the floor.
Maeve latched onto Mortianna’s wrist, prepared to break her arm to gain control of the knife only to realize her hands were empty. Surprised, she watched as the other woman’s expression turned from one of rage to one of surprise.
Rolling to the side, she sprang to her feet and she could hardly comprehend what she was seeing. Mortianna lay on the floor with both knives embedded in her chest. Stunned, Maeve staggered backward, her feet tangled in the cape once more. She almost fell before strong arms encircled her waist and held her upright.
Quinn.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I killed her.”
“It’s not your fault, Maeve.” He kissed her on the forehead. “You were only a means to an end. Her days were numbered when she allowed her rage to take control of her life and turn her away from the light.”
On the floor, Mortianna struggled to her knees. There was little resemblance between this pathetic creature and the woman she’d first met less than a week ago. Her hair was totally white and limp, and her face was barely recognizable. Even her eyes had faded to an almost uniform white as if she were blind.
Slowly she crept to the casket leaving bloody streaks in her wake. Staring raptly at her daughter’s face, she’d barely touched the glass when her strength gave out. She fell to the floor. Her arm knocked into a small plaster column, and the movement tipped a vase of cream roses. The flowers landed on her body, and the vase shattered beside her.
“Bliss.” Mortianna’s lips barely moved. “Forgive me.”
Epilogue
When Sinjin placed a dozen red roses on Bliss’s casket, Maeve had long given up any attempt to conceal her tears. Conor MacNaughten stood at the head of the casket, his words soft and melodic in the still of the Samhain evening. Jennifer Beaumont stood next to him, wiping tears as he spoke the final prayer.
Alexandre stood next to her with his Armani armor firmly in place. On the outside he appeared stoic, but no one was fooled. His eyes glimmered with unshed tears for the friend and fellow Council member being laid to rest.
Shai and Val stood side by side with their arms wrapped around one another. Her face was pressed into his chest as she tried to contain her sobs. Maeve had seen more than one tear on his face as he tried to comfort his woman.
Maeve stood at the foot of the casket with Sunni to her right. For once she was modestly dressed in a simple black sheath and a massive black hat complete with a net that covered her face.
The last remaining Council member, Fayne, stood with his arm around his mate, Erihn. The massive were-cat stood stone-faced but there was no mistaking the rage simmering in his violet eyes. Erihn laid a slim hand on his chest, and he gave her a look of pure love that made Maeve’s heart ache at the sight of it.
Quinn stood between Erihn and Sinjin. Whatever he felt, it wasn’t reflected on his face. His expression was remote, closed off to all of them. Every now and then she’d see a muscle flex in his jaw, the only sign of his inner turmoil.
After the death of Mortianna only three days before, a whirlwind of activity had commenced. They’d buried the witch in a stand of oaks deep in the woods south of her home. The remains of her soggy, smelly minions were laid to rest with her. Maeve hoped her tortured soul would find peace at last.
Hilton, Sinjin’s long-time butler, had been found dead in the woods outside Aisling Crioch earlier in the day. He’d been laid to rest in the St. James family cemetery only a few short hours ago by a tearful Fayne. Maeve would dearly miss the gruff old man who lived to snipe at those he served. Only a few weeks ago he’d snapped at her for entering the hall with wet boots, yet he’d concocted herbal teas when she felt under the weather the next day.
Here, in Sinjin’s beloved Scottish Highlands, they attended to the first one to die, Bliss. Inwardly, she sighed. So much death surrounded all of them, and she hoped for her friends was that it would end soon. But even she knew better than to think peace was close at hand.
When the men stepped forward to pick up the ropes that lay strung beneath the casket, Maeve’s attention swung back to the task at hand.
“Sinjin says this meadow is filled with heather in the warmer months,” Sunni whispered. “I’ll bet it’s lovely.”
“Yes.” Her words were scratchy. She cleared her throat. “I think she would be pleased.”
Moving as one, the men lifted the casket as Jennifer and Shai removed the wooden slats that had been supporting it. The only sound was the creak of the ropes as they lowered their friend into the rich highland soil. Once that was done, Quinn and Sinjin picked up shovels to complete their task.
Maeve flinched when the first shovelful struck the reinforced glass. She couldn’t bear to watch yet neither could she walk away. Tears streamed down her face as the two men who’d loved Bliss the most did the last thing they could for her.
Once the soil had been smoothed into a neat mound then covered with hundreds of roses, they stood silently for a moment. Nothing moved, not even the wind.
Mac held his hand out to Jennifer, and she took it. He dropped a chaste kiss on her lips and they turned away. He grabbed one of the torches, and they headed down the hill toward the house.
Fayne and Erihn followed. With their arms around each other’s waists, they took their torch and walked down the narrow track.
Alone, Alexandre was next. He walked with his head held high and his spine as straight as a ruler. Maeve caught the look of utter longing Sunni gave him, but he didn’t appear to notice her. Her shoulders slumped.
Val offered Sunni his hand, and she gave him a sad little smile. He gently pulled her toward the path where Shai waited with the torch. Linking an arm around his waist, they joined the procession.
A lump lodged in her throat as she watched Quinn and Sinjin standing on opposite sides of the grave. They were as different as night and day. Quinn was light to Sinjin’s dark. Quinn was the sun while Sinjin was the moon.
She’d had enough time in the darkness, and it was the warmth she now craved.
Turning, she walked to the path with tears blurring her vision. They’d barely spoken since the day his mother died. Then again, what could he say to the woman who’d taken her life?
Oh, he’d said it wasn’t her fault but that didn’t change the outcome. Her first mistake had been to try and force him to cast aside his beliefs and when he’d held fast she’d walked away from him. Looking back, if he had done as she’d asked she couldn’t help but feel it would’ve altered how she looked at him. How was that for irony?
She shook her head. She wasn’t cut out for this.
“You forgot something.”
Quinn’s voice intruded into her thoughts. Hastily, she wiped her eyes before facing him. He stood only few feet away and held one of the torches.
“I did, didn’t I?” She reached for the torch and was surprised when he moved it out of reach.
“Not the torch. You forgot something else.”
Had she dropped anything? She took a quick inventory but everything was as it should be. Puzzled, she looked at him.
“You forgot me,” he whispered.
Her heart leapt into her throat and she stepped back, unsure what to say. Surely he didn’t mean what she was thinking. She had to clear her throat before she could speak.
“I could never forget you, Quinn.”
“That’s good because I have no intention of letting you ever forget me.” He smiled, and Maeve swore the sky became lighter. “Seeing that you and I will be together for a very long time to come, that could’ve been problematic.”
“Together?” She took a step toward him.
“Like peanut butter and jelly.”
“One of my favorite combinations,” she smiled.
“Mine, too. Who knew we had so much in common?” He reached for her and, with a gentle tug, he pulled her close. “It’s hard to forget someone when you wake up beside him every morning.” His head dipped.
“I could see how that would be—” She gulped. “But I killed your mother,” she blurted, seconds before his lips touched hers.
He pulled away. “She was never my mother.”
“You’re splitting hairs.”
“She was trying to kill me.” His head dipped toward hers. “You saved my life.”
“I thought she was immortal. How did I kill her?”
Pulling away again, he gave her a look of exaggerated patience. “The spell that you so desperately wanted? She cast the spell, and the longer it remained active it drained away her powers. Over time she would’ve returned to normal b
ut she gave you the Knowledge of the Ages and there was no coming back from that. You saw how quickly she aged because she’d become mortal.”
Tears overflowed once again as she buried her face in his chest. “Wow, that really sucks.” Her voice was muffled.
He laughed. “You have to admit, it’ll make for some interesting stories for the grandchildren.”
Maeve’s head popped up. “Grandkids?”
“Well, I guess we’ll have to have kids first.” Sliding his arm around her waist, he guided her down the path.
“Kids? You want kids?”
Why did it feel as if she were having an out of body experience?
“Dozens of them.”
“Dozens?” She gaped up at him.
“You heard me. I grew up in a big family, and our kids should enjoy the same thing, don’t you think?” He wiggled his brows in a mock-lecherous manner. “The moment my parents heard about you, they started pestering me about grandkids so I think we’d better get started soon.”
Maeve burst out laughing. Her heart was so joyful she thought it would explode. She didn’t know what she’d done to deserve such a man, but she wasn’t taking any chances this time around. She was going to latch onto him so fast he wouldn’t know what hit him.
“Slow down there, Buck Rogers.” She laughed. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”
He frowned. “What?”
“You haven’t asked me to marry you.”
His jaw dropped, and he gaped at her for a full minute before he managed to speak. “M-m-married? You want to get married?”
“Hell, yeah. If you expect me to breed then I expect a ring, a big fat one.”
“You’re serious?” A silly grin spread across his face.
“Don’t I look serious?”
He dropped the torch.
“We’re going to need that.”
Pulling her into his arms, he kissed her. Maeve wrapped her arms around his neck and clung to him. Her blood raced and when he broke the kiss, she was stunned to see his love for her written on his handsome face.
No one had ever looked at her like that.
Releasing her hold on his neck, she slid her hands down his chest. “Did I tell you that you look hot in a suit?”