CHAPTER ELEVEN #3
Allie was about to tell him he was not just her hero, but everyone’s hero, when he said, “Yer brother was here.”
Allie jerked, stunned. “He was here? While I slept?” she cried.
“Aye. Ye may have seen him fighting on the ramparts. He’s dark, an’ he wore red an’ black.” Royce paused, facing her.
Allie suddenly recalled seeing two Masters on the ramparts. “That was my brother?” she gasped, utterly distracted now.
“Aye.”
That had been her half brother. “I want to meet him,” she managed.
“Ye will. He came to take ye to his home, but we discussed it an’ he agreed to leave ye with me. He’s since left.”
A huge disappointment began. Allie sat down on the edge of the bed. “Why didn’t he stay until I woke up?”
Royce shook his head. “He’s young an’ hot,” he said. “He’s a bold, impatient man. He waits for no one. But he’ll come again an’ yer welcome at Blayde, his home, anytime.”
Allie felt her brows rise. Her brother sounded like another entirely medieval man, very much like Royce. An alarm bell went off. “Guy doesn’t sound like he’d discuss very much with anyone, ever.”
“He doesna discuss much, yer right. He fights first an’ talks later, in spite of having a good wife to rein him in.
If yer asking if we fought, we dinna. I wouldn’t fight yer brother.
” He added wryly, “But if ye think me a tyrant, well, he makes me look like a milkmaid. His household wouldn’t please ye much. ”
“Great.” She thought about it. “Thank you. I wasn’t about to leave you now, anyway.”
Royce stared at her.
Allie tensed, sliding to her feet. “You need me—and I need you. I think that’s become very clear.”
His color rose. “I’ll nay deny I need ye in my bed—”
“Stop! I wasn’t referring to sex and you know it.”
Flushed, he shook his head. “Yer a foolish woman if ye’ll start thinking of ways to heal my heart again!”
“Will you ever respect the privacy of my thoughts?”
He gave her a bold look. “Ye like the invasion.”
Her body reacted to his deliberate choice of words. “In a way, I do. It makes communicating with you very intimate. But if you knew that, you wouldn’t be so eager to read my mind all the time.”
“To protect ye, t’is best I ken what ye think.”
“Liar,” she said softly. “You can’t help yourself. You read my mind the way you look at me—you undress my thoughts with a single telepathic thrust the way you undress my body with a single physical glance.”
His face hardened. “Do ye wish to ken why they call me Black Royce?”
She hesitated. “I think you intend to tell me, regardless.”
“Because my heart was blackened long ago.”
“Because of what happened to Brigdhe?”
He paled.
Allie prayed she hadn’t gone too far. “I pried. I asked Malcolm about her. Royce, it wasn’t your fault.”
He had recovered his composure. His eyes were cold. “I willna discuss my wife with ye.”
Allie retreated. “I am so sorry about what happened. And I will respect your privacy.”
He stared and she stared back. Then he nodded. “Good.”
Allie turned away and breathed deeply, in relief. She had better tread with care on that particular subject. She slowly turned and walked over to him, beginning to smile, using all of her feminine power. “Please forgive me?” she asked softly, laying her hand on his chest.
“There’s nothin’ to forgive. Ye like to talk an’ ye like me. So ye spoke to Malcolm. My past is hardly a secret.” He shrugged as if indifferent now.
Allie managed not to sigh. Until Royce gave her his heart, he would always try to turn the tables on her. He probably did so instinctively. “In my time, people talk a lot, about everything, all the time, men included.”
He stepped away from her so her hand fell from his chest. “That must please ye.”
Now she shrugged. “It’s a different world.”
“Ye must miss yer home.”
Actually, Allie hadn’t thought about home at all since meeting Royce at the fund-raiser. Since the moment he’d appeared in South Hampton, she’d become completely and irreversibly caught up in his life and his Fate.
He smiled, pleased.
But now, she thought about her father and Tabby, Sam and Brie.
They had to be worried sick about her! At some point, she had to figure out how to get a message to them.
“I need to learn how to read your mind,” Allie said.
“But I think I can read one thought. You’re not still planning on leaving me here, are you? ”
His smile vanished. “Nay,” he said. “Ye needed me today. Had I left yesterday, ye’d be in Moffat’s hands.”
Relief surged. “I did need you today.” She smiled brightly, a cover-up, for she was trying not to think about Moffat’s lust and what he intended for her.
But her gut roiled. No demon had ever frightened her so before, but then, no demon had ever made her his prey.
She wouldn’t mind never laying eyes on Moffat again.
“Ailios.” His sharp tone made her meet his hard, uncompromising gaze. “Ye won’t be apart from me until Moffat is dead.”
More relief arose.
“He won’t take ye,” Royce said coldly. “I willna allow it.”
Allie nodded. “I know you won’t.”
As she saw his set expression, his warriorlike resolve, a vague image of another woman crept into her mind, followed by the whisper of her name. Brigdhe.
His wife had been captured by his demonic enemy.
And the demons wanted to capture her now.
And Allie saw, in that single stunning moment, the truth.
Royce was afraid for her because of what happened to his wife.
Royce strode past her, shoving open the door. “I’ll take ye to the chapel,” he said, flushed.
And she knew she was right.
ALONE IN THE CHAPEL, Allie reached out to the dead.
Confusion, anguish and sorrow wafted in the air, making it feel thick and heavy.
Having been so suddenly and violently killed, their souls lingered nearby, a tangible presence, clearly uncertain as to whether to leave their loved ones behind, unwilling to move on.
So much energy came from the recently dead and Allie knelt, trying to sort through the various roiling emotions.
She wanted to heal each and every confused soul.
Allie identified the first of the dead, a very young, newly wed man. His name formed in her mind—Thormond—as did his pale, red-haired image. She knew he was afraid to leave his bride, and as she lit a candle for him, she began to pray.
She called out to the Ancients, one by one, asking them to heed her and to help her ease the passage of the dead into the next world. When she felt certain that the old gods had gathered and were listening, she turned her attention back to the dead young man.
She blessed him and his wife, reassuring him and encouraging him to go to the next life.
She could feel his youth, not just in physical years, but in soul lifetimes, and she knew he would soon find rebirth.
Allie prayed until she felt the confusion and uncertainty subsiding, until she felt his swirling energy soften.
A moment later, she felt his presence dwindling, and then it was gone.
She managed a smile and wiped a tear from her face. She would call on Thormond’s wife tomorrow. Then she turned to the next hovering soul, this man far older but just as reluctant to leave his family and friends.
Many hours later, Allie stood, feeling shaky. The chapel was empty now, every soul sent on his or her way; two of the dead had been women, inadvertently killed in the attack. Moffat had to be stopped.
She stepped outside into a blushing dawn. Royce was sitting on the stairs leading up to the ramparts, waiting for her. Her heart turned over hard as their gazes met. As she walked over to him, he stood.
She saw the question in his eyes.
“I’m fine. It took some time to get the gods’ attention—and to send everyone on their way.”
“It took all night,” he said flatly, his gaze still searching. “Did ye try to heal every lost soul?”
“Were you listening to me?”
“A bit.”
“They all needed me, Royce.”
He shocked her by reaching out and putting his arm around her. “Will ye rest now?”
She leaned into his magnificent body, then gave in and turned, wrapping her arms around him, her cheek against the flat, hard lower edge of his chest. He hesitated and then his arms engulfed her. Allie stood still, breathing in his power, his essence, his scent, and relishing being in his arms.
“Does anyone ever pray for ye, Ailios?” he asked softly.
She nuzzled his chest, the linen rough beneath her cheek. “Who on earth would do that?”
His grip tightened.
Allie felt his heart pick up a new, stronger rhythm. “I wasn’t put here for myself, Royce. Like you, I was put here to help others.”
He was silent.
Allie thought about the intimacy of the moment.
They were alone together and she was in his arms, in a silent dawn filled with the light of both the rising sun and the full moon, and his concern was just as evident now as it had been earlier.
I am no longer alone, she thought, and she smiled against his chest.
They had been through so much in such a short time. They had survived so much together. They weren’t quite lovers and they were far more than friends. And no matter what mode he was in, Allie knew she could count on him.
“Tell me about the future,” he said hoarsely.
“What?” she asked, surprised, pulling back to look up at him.
He made a derisive sound, releasing her. He folded his arms across his chest and stared tightly down at her.
Allie felt her heart race. “You want to know about the time we spent together?”
His expression threatened to crack. “Aye.”
She was stunned and thrilled. “Let’s sit,” she said. “I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”