Chapter 28

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

M erc watched Adan crest the hill. He'd come through the mountain preserve portal a few moments before. An hour ago, he'd spoken in Ruth's head, letting her know he was back from wherever he and Derek had been. Catriona had told him what had happened. His voice had been rough, as he told his sister he was on his way.

I'll walk from the portal. I'll meet you at the house.

Ruth had respected and understood, though as she stood next to Merc on the porch, emotions battered her like an ocean against a lighthouse. These past several days, she'd proven her resilience, again and again. She'd set the house to rights with the staff, ordered replacement glass, even flown her plane for a supply run to the mainland and met with William and Matthew, giving her oath formally to Lord Marshall. As an adult vampire, she'd given it to him some time ago, but due to the circumstances, she'd wanted to reinforce it.

Lord Marshall had told her whatever she needed, she need only ask. William and Matthew had offered to come help with the house and sanctuary. So had Nerida and Miah, whom she'd spoken to on the phone. For now, Ruth had said she and the staff had it covered, but she'd keep them informed about the memorial service that would happen, once Adan returned.

The chores associated with loss were never ending. There were loose ends to tie up, things that had to keep being done. Arrangements for whatever death rituals would be observed. Merc knew it helped Ruth keep the worst of the feelings at bay. If she was moving, staying just ahead of them, she felt she could let them inside her in manageable portions. She'd grabbed that to-do list with both hands. She alternated between stoic numbness and manic activity.

He'd let her follow that strategy, watchful for the moments when it escaped her grasp.

As they crested the hill, Catriona was at Adan's side. Adan stopped, giving his Fae a brief but intense embrace, and left the road to detour toward the field of purple wildflowers. After looking after him for a long moment, Catriona continued toward the house.

Ruth's waves of emotion tripled. Merc had his hand on her shoulder. The staff were drawing comfort from one another, but his vampire had learned to handle so many emotions without sharing them, that wasn't comfortable for her. So those few times she'd lost her hold, she'd gone off on her own to deal with them.

He'd told her he wouldn't respect her wishes on that, and he stuck to that promise. He'd follow, and hold her as she wept and shook in his arms, so hard he was afraid her bones would shatter inside her frame, her muscles tear. It made him wonder how Marcellus had been able to bear it, when those seizures had gripped Clara. It was the worst thing Merc had ever experienced, even worse than his childhood.

He did what he knew Ruth needed. He wrapped her up in arms and wings, his support and yes…love, which he was learning was a painful, wrenching and wondrous thing, but the pain of it didn't matter. What mattered was her. He kept her together as she absorbed the shocking loss in the increments she could manage.

Adan's expression was a wall. The siblings weren't that different. He was doing what Ruth had done, when they'd dealt with the kidnapping and then the Council meeting. He'd contain it until there was no one else that needed his care. He'd contain it until he was sure Ruth was okay.

Ruth left the porch and headed for the field.

Catriona had flown toward the house, her brown, green and golden wings catching the illumination from the pole lights around the outside of the house. Her wings weren't designed for altitude as much as to speed her way, so her toes just cleared the road. As she passed Ruth, she circled her, touched her hair and shoulder. Not impeding her forward progress, but offering the brief comfort before she continued. She landed on the steps, the butterfly-like texture of her wings brushing against Merc's arm. He tightened his wings behind him to give her room to stand at his side.

They said nothing as they watched, but Merc felt Catriona's love and pain for her Master. When Ruth reached the field and they were fifty feet apart, Adan's stride faltered, and he stumbled.

The dam had broken.

In a flash, Ruth had closed the distance and had her arms around him, the two of them kneeling in the field together. As Adan buried terrible moans of grief against her breast, she held him with arms so much stronger than they looked.

"He could not bear Derek or anyone to speak of it." Catriona's voice trembled. "He could not bear a comforting touch."

"He had to come here first. To be with his twin. To accept it is real."

They would help each other, and that too, would help them withstand the onslaught of heartache.

"Yes." Catriona laid a hand on Merc's arm. Simple solidarity. Merc looked down into her gray-green eyes. "We will be everything they need us to be," she said.

A comfort, reassurance and mandate, for them both. He saw the steel in her, this seemingly delicate Fae with her pointed ears and a willow leaf tattoo inked along her temples. He thought of Mason's description of Elisa, and his knowledge of Ruth herself. Warrior-like, even when the body was far more fragile than the will.

During the battle with the Trad and Fae, Merc would not forget how savagely the combatants on their side had fought, not just for vampires…but for family.

Pallas's followers were answering to Rhoswen and Tabor for their presumption. But those were matters for others. Ruth was his priority.

Merc put his hand over Catriona's and saw her surprise at the strength and reassurance he put in the gesture, dialing back the disturbing incubus energy so it couldn't interfere with his message. "Yes. We will."

As Ruth held Adan, he held her, too. Her brother, comforting her as she comforted him. They rocked together on the ground, the purple flowers nodding around them in the quiet wind, the night full of stars. There was a crescent moon. When he wound down, he didn't act embarrassed as he might have in front of someone else. They were twins. They were inside one another. He did sit up, and they kept holding one another, her head on his shoulder, his against her temple.

"We had to go ahead and bury them," she said. "But we're planning a service at the grave."

Kohana and Chumani were in the small family and staff graveyard, formed on the east side of the giant tree whose canopy shaded the picnic tables. It was the gathering spot the staff had always enjoyed, on fair weather days and nights. Kohana and Chumani had spent many good hours there, and the staff still liked including them in their conversations. Mal had said Kohana would want to be where he could keep an eye on things, and Chumani would want to be where she could keep an eye on her beloved giant Sioux.

However, for Mal and Elisa, there had been only one place that fit. The overlook, where Mal could see all the fault lines, and how the cats were doing. See his staff and Ruth move about their tasks, caring for the island he'd loved. Elisa's only desire would be to be close to him.

As Ruth showed that to Adan in his mind, she wiped another river of tears from his cheek. "Did you know this field is where Etsi told Da she was carrying us? That she was pregnant?"

"I didn't. She never told me that."

"Women tell one another such things." She paused as a puzzling mix of emotions, shock and uncertainty, flashed over his face. "What? Why is that so startling?"

"It's not…it's just…" Adan released her and drew up his knees so he could prop his elbows on them and scrub his face with his hands. "I'm going to lose it again, Ruth. I'm not sure if I can get this out and hold it together."

She put her arm over his back, her other hand curled around his biceps. Instantly, she shoved her own pain aside as she prepared to fight for her brother, in whatever direction the threat would come. "You don't have to. What is it? Tell me."

"Oh. Hell, no it's nothing bad. Sorry. Just the opposite." He pressed his lips to her hair, cupping her head before he drew back and met her gaze. "Catriona is expecting." His face crumpled. "I was going to tell them…when I got back. She told me just before I left."

"Adan. Oh, Adan." Another flood of tears for them both. She was beginning to think they would never end, that the pain would never ease.

"If I'd come before, I might have been here… They would have had a Light Guardian to defend them…"

"Don't do that to yourself. You can what if yourself all day long. Da and Mum wouldn't want you to do that. Oh, Adan. They would have been so happy with your news."

Her attention went to the house. Catriona stood on the rail, gazing up at the night, her wings fluttering like shimmers of golden and green mist. Merc braced his hands on the rail next to her, listening to whatever she was telling him with courteous attention, even though he was fully present in Ruth's mind.

Adan must have let Catriona hear that he'd shared their news with his sister, because Catriona looked in their direction and raised her hand, a tender acknowledgement.

Ruth touched Adan's face again. "He's right here. She's right here. They haven't left us. They'll never leave us." She told herself that every day. A bittersweet comfort that fell far short of what she wanted, but would help, over time. She had to believe that. "They know, Adan. I know they're celebrating for you, overjoyed."

"I can't let go of the selfish bastard, little kid desire to have seen their reaction when we brought them the news. Etsi would have danced a jig. Made cookies the size of dinner plates. Da would have insisted that Catriona stay here on the island whenever I was traveling, so they could watch over her. No matter how safe she'd be with Keldwyn in the Fae world, you know he never trusted it much."

"No." They laid back among the flowers and stared up at the sky, their hands clasped. "I don't want to go inside," he said at last, in an aching voice.

"I know. It's truly terrible, the first time."

She didn't mean while it was wrecked and bloodstained, which had been a separate kind of horror, one that would take her years to pack into a closet in her mind and throw away the key.

No. She meant when it was normal, restored, mostly back to the way it was supposed to look, yet it didn't look right at all. "And the second, and third. It's too quiet. But it will be better, with you and Catriona here. How long you can stay?"

Adan turned his head to look at her. "Derek said unless he gets desperate enough to need my pitiful efforts, I can take whatever time I need."

"He's a very encouraging boss."

"Yeah. Being too full of myself is never a problem with him. Like Da..." He swallowed. "I can't say ‘was.' I don't want to."

"Then don't. I won't either. As I said, they're still here. I may be too full of pain and anger to really feel it yet, but I have no doubt of it."

Their hands constricted, a flesh and bone knot, reflecting the desire not to let go of the line that connected them to the thought.

"‘Even if our decisions bring us to the end of one life, it's only the beginning of another. And those lives are circles that will link, giving your soul everything it needs. When you most doubt it, it will remind you. Because while a lot of things are hard and cruel, that truth never is.'"

His voice got thick again as he spoke the words. He turned his head to meet her eyes. " Etsi said that to me, that first time Derek and Ruby brought Jem to the island. You remember that day?"

"I do." They looked back up at the stars for a while longer. Then Adan sat up and gazed down at her with their mother's eyes. Ruth laced her hands over her stomach, knowing he was seeing Mal's gazing back at him from her own face. More reminders. The right kind.

"So Merc is here," he said at last.

"Yes."

"You third marked him."

"Yes." Ruth blew out a breath. "I'm going to run the sanctuary, Adan. He'll do things with Marcellus, for the angels, so he'll come and go for that, but when those things aren't needed, he'll be here. He likes it here."

"Really?"

"Yeah. He's never really had a home. The Circus came closest, but even there they weren't all that sure of him. He tended to be on the outside. I think that's changing, but…he sees me as his home."

"That's the way it's supposed to be, isn't it?" He looked up at the stars.

"Yeah. Mum said that about Da. That he was her home."

"I get it. I wouldn't have, before Catriona. But I do now." He glanced at her. "You and Merc?"

"We're a lot newer than you two. Still…yes, I think so. When I third marked him, it was like my soul recognized his. An, ‘oh, there you are,' moment. Does that sound stupid and romantic?"

"Yeah. Doesn't make it less true."

She nudged him, then half-smiled. "He likes helping with the sanctuary chores. He has to cloak his wings so the infirmary cats don't see them; otherwise they try to pull out his feathers while he's feeding or holding them."

Adan managed an answering smile. Their eyes were raw and red, but the smile worked with that. Pain came with the promise of life going on.

No matter how hard that seemed right now.

Adan stayed for two weeks. Then Ruth gently encouraged him and Catriona to return to his Light Guardian duties. They'd set the date for the memorial service, and he'd come back for it, but beyond that, she knew he'd return as often as he could. Grief would be a long roller coaster for both of them, but continuing on with their lives as they were mapped before them, the directions they desired to go and had willingly chosen, would help. It was time for that journey to continue.

Mal and Elisa would want it that way.

Adan's news, that Ruth would soon be an aunt, lifted everyone's spirits. Catriona would be having the first vampire-Fae child since Lyssa, as far as anyone knew. Miracles abounded. Maybe not the one Ruth most wanted, but a reminder that the world kept spinning.

She'd stepped into her father's shoes, taking over management of the sanctuary, helped by Hanska and the staff members who'd loved Mal and Elisa so deeply. For the most part, she handled the jarring daily reminders that they weren't there, but some part of her kept reaching…

She believed what she'd told Adan, that they were still here, a strong echo that connected to whatever afterlife or path they were on now, like a vampire mind link. Elsewhere, but still in touch.

Yet she hadn't felt it the way she wanted to do so. For so many years, they'd been in her head. Within a moment's reach, physically, emotionally. She wanted a reassurance that they had moved beyond those terrible last moments that came to her in too-frequent nightmares.

Sometimes, waiting for that sign, dealing with it all, turned her into a raving lunatic.

On good days, Merc could leave Ruth on the island with no concerns. She wouldn't let sadness take her over.

So today here he was, in Shamain, in a meeting with Marcellus's Legion battalion. In his own mind, he'd started out by "sitting in" on the strategy sessions and briefings, at Marcellus's urging. However, before long, Merc had started behaving as if he were a new but vetted member of their ranks. And they were acting the same toward him.

Unsettling as fuck, but that didn't make it less true.

Though Ruth's more limited range meant she couldn't hear or feel him in her mind at a certain distance, he'd learned how to drop into her mind from almost anywhere. So when he was sitting on the Citadel wall, listening to Jonah, the Prime Legion Commander, discuss a problem about another part of the universe, he turned part of his mind toward his vampire.

The sanctuary's business was done for the day, and it was two and a half hours before dawn. She was in her father's office, leaning against the doorway, her forehead against those knife marks Mal had created. As she traced them with her fingers, her nostrils flared and she tilted her head toward the living area.

The blood is still here. Abruptly she pushed off from the wall and headed up the corridor.

Though uneasy with her mood, Merc sensed she was in no danger, and had to tune back into his present surroundings as the battalion took flight.

Nearly two hours later, the matter was done, but what he saw when he checked back into Ruth's head had Merc winging toward the island at near top speed. They were going to fix this mind link thing so it was two-way, regardless of range, so she could hear him when he asked her what the hell was going on, and did she know how close it was to dawn?

He landed in the yard, just as she emerged with bloody hands and another pile of wood, puzzle pieces for jagged holes in the kitchen and living room floor.

It was so close to sunrise, she was stumbling.

Her parents' room had become theirs, because the giant bed held the sanctuary's nexus, the canopy crisscrossed with strands of gems, the mattress covered with poached furs of spirits that lent their energy to Mal's protection of the sanctuary cats. Ruth now wore the cat pendant that connected and recharged with those energies while she moved through the sanctuary each night or slept in the bed during the day.

She wanted to feel her father's presence through that carved stone. Through that nexus. She didn't. Sleeping in that bed, she'd been sure they would visit her in her dreams. But all she dreamed about was the blood, and the picture Mason had painted of their last few moments.

She couldn't bear to wait for that contact another moment. And she couldn't take that fucking floor another second.

"I can still smell it in there, sense it," she told him as she flung down the wood. "It has to go, Merc. It's driving me mad…I shouldn't rip up the floors. Mal and Kohana put them down together, but if I don't get rid of those boards…it's in the wood, I can't stand it…"

Merc scooped her up, and when she fought him, snarling and hissing, he dealt with it with a sharp, one-word command. "Stop."

She obeyed, but reluctantly. She vibrated with the desire to resist. He took her back into the house, skirting the impressively large holes she'd created, and moved down the stairs to the vampire living quarters. He didn't go into her parents' room, but to her childhood one, deeper in the earth. She was angry, but while just being cradled in his arms, her eyelids were already drooping, the sun doing its best to claim her consciousness.

"I can't…"

"It will be dealt with," he told her. "You're dealing with everything you should. I will deal with this."

"But—"

"The discussion is over," he told her curtly. "If you make a face, I will spank you."

The startling comment jerked her out of her head, her eyes widening. "You would?"

"I would. You know I would enjoy it."

The tired hopelessness returned, but he took heart from the flash of sexual intrigue, albeit brief, and faint amusement that said she would pull it together after she had some rest. Him being here helped, but she hated that she was dependent on him like that.

Her parents had been murdered only a few weeks ago, changing her whole life. He thought she was doing remarkably well. He'd make that point with her, forcibly, later.

"Can angels visit the dead?"

The question burst from her as he laid her down. He knew it had been hovering in her mind for a while, elusive, kept behind a door, her refusing to ask it. Probably because she already suspected the answer, and couldn't handle another disappointment. He hated to meet those expectations.

"Not Legion angels…or one like me. The wall between the living and the dead is there for important reasons. Reasons even I couldn't argue with. Angels have no access to it. The hope for the day we reunite with loved ones, without the concrete assurance of it…even angels are not exempt from that."

She closed her eyes and turned away, curling into a ball. I'm sorry, Merc. I knew that. Charlie even told me…with Clara. I'm better than this. Just not today. That goddamn smell…

He curled his arm around her waist, pulled her closer and lay with her until she fell into the unrelenting arms of daylight sleep. When she was under, he cleaned her hands, checking that they were healing properly. Then he did something he'd never done. He reached out and asked for a favor from Maddock.

Though his communication with Ruth had much deeper levels, Merc had learned an angel had the ability, with practice, to reach out and speak in anyone's mind. It was proving to be a useful tool. And amusing, when Maddock, just rising in his part of the world, started at the unexpected intrusion, sloshing his coffee on his hand. Goddamn it, Merc…

The sorcerer nevertheless came through the portal less than an hour later, with Charlie. Charlie went to check on Ruth in her somnolent state, and Merc and Maddock dealt with the floor.

"It needs to contain the scents she expects. Not a new smell. Not something that stands out as having been replaced for the reasons it's being replaced. No blood or violence from her parents' deaths. Can it be done?"

After a moment of contemplation, Maddock nodded, his expression serious. "I can do it. Mind helping me with the grunt work part?"

"Just tell me what you need."

Maddock might have doubted his sincerity, but an hour later, he no longer did. Merc followed the sorcerer's instruction, starting with bringing the wood back into the living area. It had the scent of her blood on it, too, from where she'd ripped the boards heedlessly off the floor. He laid them back in place, holding them as directed as the sorcerer reversed the damage her strength of purpose had inflicted.

After that, Maddock cast the cleansing smell, lifting out what needed to disappear and restoring to the planks the same scent as what was on the other, unaffected boards. He did the casting throughout the main room and kitchen, everywhere the violence had occurred. When Maddock finished, he had a slight smile on his face.

"Many good memories have been made here. It wasn't difficult to draw on that energy and use it. I'm barely even winded."

Charlie returned. Seeing her sober face, Merc closed in on her. When Maddock shifted between them, Merc brought himself up short and stepped back. "I would never cause her harm," he said.

In the past, he wouldn't have bothered to offer the assurance. He'd wanted to maintain that reserve and distance a dangerous reputation gave him. Connection was more important to him now. Especially if it helped Ruth.

Maddock looked surprised at the obvious sincerity in the admission. He gave Merc a cordial nod, offered in the same tone. "My apologies. You looked a little intense. I'm used to…how you used to be."

Fair enough. Merc looked at Charlie. "How is she?"

"She's emotionally exhausted, stressed and overwhelmed. But only what I would expect for an intense grieving process." Charlie touched Merc's hand.

"You can give her some good news when she wakes. Ruth told Clara that maybe the physical cost of her visions was the Powers-That-Be's way of telling her she'd done enough. After the vampires retrieved Kane and Farida, she let Maddock embed the blocking spell. She's gained ten pounds and looks happier than I've seen her in a long while. When she comes for the memorial, Ruth will see for herself."

Merc had noted Marcellus looked easier, the past couple times they'd been together. Now he knew why. The senior angel hadn't shared the news, perhaps because he thought celebrating Clara's good fortune wasn't appropriate in the face of Ruth's grief. He'd have to let the angel know that wasn't the case. "Good. I'm glad to hear it."

Charlie's expression told him she could see the toll on Merc as well, because of his feelings for Ruth. That awareness and compassion were unexpected, and caused a heaviness in his chest. The last time those two emotions had been directed his way, they'd come from Elisa.

"You're caring for her properly, Merc," Charlie said soberly. "It will be hard for a while. That's all. She's very strong."

"I know. I just wish I could spare her the pain."

"Stand by her through it. That's more important. Pain shapes us and helps us grow stronger, especially when we have someone with us to get through it."