Shatter - Sins of the Sidhe (30 page)

Straightening her hair and fixing her shirt, Rowan tried her best to look like that didn’t just happen. Ava smiled like she enjoyed the scene and that was enough to turn Rowan’s face a warm shade of crimson. Some of the books had fallen to the floor, but no one bothered to pick them up.

Stone-face on the other hand, was the one to speak next.

“I believe Lorcan is using the energies from the souls to gain power. That’s why he’s snatching them. It’s the only thing that makes sense about how he’s gained so much. But I can’t help but think he’s got something else.” Thinking it over once more, Adam looked back up at Ro, “How many spirits do you think were in there, Rowan?”

“Thousands,” was her reply.

This was bad news indeed. Snatching the souls for this purpose made a rift in the natural order of things. But Adam couldn’t ignore the idea that Lorcan had something else that was giving him such power. Aye, the souls’ energy would help him survive throughout the ages, but Rowan said she could almost see him in true Sidhe form. He had mind control over her that was for certain. A talent all Fae possess to some extent; but Lorcan was stripped of the gift when he was cast out of the Faelands. Lorcan must have some other weapon in his arsenal, but what, Adam couldn’t imagine.

Morrigan was right: this was a going to be a serious battle, one that Rowan was going to be at the forefront of. Lorcan had to be stopped. They had to find where he was hiding. This was going to call for some serious magic. Adam feared it would be the most powerful and costly kind.

“My dear, you need to learn how to block out others from your mind. We cannot risk you being controlled again. It may have been for Lorcan’s own pleasure last time, but Fae take pleasure in other things as well. He can use you to harm yourself. And others.” Adam flicked a glance to Devlin who was standing next to Rowan leaning back against the large desk, arms folded across his broad chest.

“I would never hurt anyone,” offended, Rowan smacked her fist down on her leg with a quick
slap!

“Aye my dear, and I’m sure three days ago you would have said you’d never get naked and have a go at yourself in front of an audience either.”

His words stung. The truth had a nasty habit of stinging and cutting. Rowan was speechless while she played it all over in her head for the thousandth time. Accepting it as fact, not insult, Rowan said the two words that are so hard for her to say, “You’re right.”

“You need to learn how to filter, open, and block your mind.” Adam got up and walked over to Devlin. “She’s got to do this brother, or we don’t stand a chance. The sooner the better.”

Devlin agreed with a short nod and then grabbed Rowan’s hands, swinging her around to face him. He was never going to have her in such a vulnerable position again. He’d made that vow to himself already. Reliving her tale in his head and knowing how easy it was for Lorcan to take over her mind was still a crushing blow to his heart and pride.
Mine.
Imagining the wee sprite causing harm to herself or someone else was a thought no man wanted to have. ‘Tis a scary and painful possibility though.

“Aye lass,” Devlin’s face turned to stone, “let’s get started.”

This training was the loudest silence Rowan had ever known. It took days of relentless practicing for her to master it. She didn’t give up though, no matter how infuriating or tiring it got. Determined to succeed, Rowan was finally able to connect her mind to Devlin’s for a span of two seconds before it would disappear again. It started out slowly, flashes of thoughts and whispers. It was a decent start, but small things would distract and break her concentration.

“Damnit!” She fussed, losing his voice in her head.

A roll of thunder echoed outside and it was enough to make her lose contact. Again. It had been raining for five straight days, and it was beginning to make Rowan feel some major cabin fever, which translated to serious sexual tension, for which she couldn’t give into until she mastered what she was learning. It was torture.

“Again,” Devlin commanded.

It was a true test of his patience. The wee woman was so hell bent on concentrating; she screwed her own self up half the time. Running out of things to say in his head, he was now reading
The Complete Stories and Poems of Edgar Allan Poe
. This was beyond frustrating. But he had to remember, he’s had centuries of practice, and she had just started. Keeping up the grueling pace of her training, they needed to master this skill before moving on to the next. Neither of them were getting much sleep or doing anything else for that matter. Och, twas torture.

Finally, after working on it for hour after hour, day after day, Rowan finally felt the connection snap into place. It was like a switch flicked in her head – kind of like turning on a breaker to a fuse. And just like that, she could hear him reciting
“The Raven”
in her head.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before…

“Ahh! I hear you! The Raven! You’re reading the Raven!” Jumping up and down with pride and excitement, Rowan jumped into his lap, tossed the book onto the floor and kissed him. He wanted more, but she wiggled out of his grip. No pleasure, this was business.

Grumbling his disappointment, he was forced to agree. Damn the woman, even in her jeans and t-shirt she was a vision from the Gods – sugar and spice, fire and ice. Her determination made her all the more alluring. And equally frustrating.
Ballocks!
He needed to fix his pants again; his throbbing shaft had become a serious distraction all to itself as of late. Devlin let out a low grumble.

“What’s the matter?” Ro hadn’t missed the brooding look on his face and thought she’d done something wrong.

Before he had a chance to answer, he felt a prod in his mind. Rowan was knocking on his mental door. With a devious smile, Devlin opened up and gave her his answer. Thoughts flashed through his head and into hers:
Devlin was laying her out on the moors, thrusting inside her as she raked his back. Ro in the shower on her knees taking him in her mouth. The two of them under his sheets, all senses lost between them.

It was like his hands were already on her, caressing, teasing, pulling, grabbing. Her eyes flashed in response. Ah yes, she remembered it well. Going all warm and gooey, Rowan felt a rush of heat surge between her thighs. Now was not the time for distractions, she thought. This was a test.

“No.” Rowan steadied herself, closing her eyes to focus.
“No”
she repeated, her voice rang loud in his mind.

Devlin smiled. Aye, the lass was catching on.

Once they had a good solid connection, Rowan was having trouble filtering their thoughts. Everything felt like it was on high speed whizzing around in her head. Like a cyclone of images and words. It was exhilarating at first, but then it just got to be too much and she was getting a terrible headache and starting to feel nauseous.

“Stop, Devlin. We have to stop.” Rowan started rubbing her temples, eyes shut and weary. She was exhausted.

“Nay lass, if ye want it to stop, ye have to shut me out. ‘Tis the point.”

Rowan gave him a look that implied just how fed up she was and that he was risking a slap in the face for it.

“I dinna mean to be so harsh,
a stór
, but ye have to learn. No offense, but ye are the type that must learn the hard way. I’ll not be easy on ye, woman.”

It was a challenge. One that Rowan fell for hook, line, and sinker. Mustering up the energy she had left, Rowan was two parts tired, one part pissed, and a gallon of determination. The combo must have done the trick. She snapped her head to the side and
Slam!
a wall went down between them.

“Ye did it!” Picking her up and kissing her, Devlin swung her around in a circle. He couldn’t believe it! She’d shut that door and blocked him easier than she let him in. He was amazed, and the smile of pride he had for her accomplishments reached his whiskey eyes.

“I’m so glad I made you happy!” Rowan was running her fingers through his hair adoringly while he was holding her in an embrace that had her two feet off the ground.

“Aye, ye make me verra happy.” He set her feet back on the ground again. “And I’m not just meaning with what we’re doing here now.”

Looking down at her, his face grew more serious and his eyes didn’t waver from her own. “I’ve never met someone like ye in all my days, Rowan. I meant it before, but I’ll say it again. I love ye, woman. Love ye with all my being. I dinna want to go a day without ye in my arms.”

This was starting to sound serious. Rowan was touched by his words, but made nervous by them too.

“Marry me, Rowan.” It was a hope, not a demand.

Her breath caught in her throat and her mouth went suddenly dry. This was moving fast, at least that’s what her brain was saying. Her heart was saying something else. Rowan didn’t make a peep for several heartbeats. She was trying to stop the shaking that had started in her hands and was slowly traveling down the rest of her.

“Are you sure about this?” Rowan wasn’t a stupid woman, but she was feeling stupid now having asked that question. His look back at her said it all. He loved her. Rowan had a flash of a memory when her dad once said, “One day girl, a man’s going to come along and grab a hold of you. If he’s smart, he won’t let go. When the day comes that you fall in love, don’t hesitate to jump in with both feet. Life is too short not to go for what you want, and time is shorter. ”

“Yes!” Rowan beamed her biggest toothiest smile at him. “Yes! I’ll marry you!”

They were on each other in seconds. Hands grasping, fingers tangled in hair, basking in the love and joy that radiated off their bodies in waves of light. She felt as light as a feather while he swung her in circles. Devlin hadn’t realized he was holding his breath until he let it blow out of him upon hearing rejoice in her answer. The Gods were smiling down on him today. One more kiss, make that two… no three.

“I canna wait. Will ye marry me now?”

“Now, now? Like, right now?!” Rowan was so wrapped up in excitement she sounded like a jittery bird.

She had to calm down enough to think clearly about this. She didn’t plan to ever marry, didn’t consider herself lucky enough, so thoughts of wedding bells and dresses had never entered her mind. The idea of big bouquets and bridesmaids had her suddenly panicked. She wasn’t prepared for this right now. She thought of all the weddings she’d been to over the years, of friends, family, old college buddies. They were different colors and times of year, but the same in ceremony. She wasn’t like that though. Traditions are wonderful, but so is spontaneity. Must be passed down in blood, Ro thought, her own parents got married on a whim one day after dating for just a couple of months. That was 35 years ago. When you know, you know.

“Let’s do it.”

Lorcan drank blood from a cup that was, once upon a time, a skull. It belonged to a woman, her hair long and red with tight unruly curls. His demons had dragged her here for Lorcan to let out some of his tension on. He preferred women. Not for their bodies, although they were nice too. But their screams were so much louder and fear much sweeter than that of a man’s.

He examined the dry bone in his hand, with its two teeth missing on one side. She was gorgeous at one point, until he lashed her body to shreds. She didn’t last long, falling unconscious from pain and blood loss. But once he’d started, bloodlust consumed him and there was no stopping until she was nothing but battered pulp and meat on the ground. Her head was the only thing that remained intact.

Rotating his keepsake, Lorcan took another sip as he looked around the room. He was restless and agitated- a deadly combination that didn’t bode well for anything that crossed his path. His army of shadows and demons had diminished by his own angry hands. He still didn’t understand how Rowan managed to escape. He’d underestimated her willpower and prowess, a mistake not to be made twice.

But thinking of her sprawled out in his bed, creamy skin and long legs, he was under her spell. The woman had no regard for rules, the spine of a warrior, and the body of a Goddess. He loved her. Well, as much as a Sidhe like him can love. He admired her. And he was in her debt.

For truth, she had been a beacon to so many wandering souls. They’d seek her out, ready to give her messages, talk or just be close to her light. And she was always ready and eager for them to come to her. Fools they were, they never noticed what lied in wait. Those wandering, blabbering souls were easy plucking. Sitting ducks. It took them a little while, but soon the spirits realized that to go to Rowan would mean a great risk for them, one most weren’t willing to take.