Celtic Evil: A Fitzgerald Brother Novel: Roarke (24 page)

“True enough,” he agreed,
easily getting to his feet and reaching for her hand. “Mac would
say we both need to sleep.”

Rolling her eyes about
medics, Jessica did yawn but judged that it was safe enough to
leave him alone. “If…if you need anything I’m right next door I
guess,” she had to stretch to lean up to lightly kiss his cheek
before starting to turn toward the door.

Recalling what he had been
thinking about before this whole mess had started in New Orleans,
Roarke’s fingers gently curled around her good arm. “Where you
going,
a gra
?” he
asked softly, bringing her back closer to him.

“Next door to bed I
suppose,” Jessica shrugged, looking up into his eyes and was
surprised at how dark they seemed. “Unless you think you may need
me and then I can sit in the chair.”

Chuckling softly, Roarke
leaned down to lightly brush a kiss over her mouth. “I will always
need you, Jessica,” he murmured against her ear, bending to easily
lift her into his arms. “But you will not, while I’m alive, sit up
in a bloody chair all night.”

Startled by this sudden
move, her arms had automatically gone around his neck. “Roarke,
what are you…?”

He heard the unease but
shifted so he could see her eyes as he carried her toward the bed.
“Stay with me tonight, Jess. Let me hold you, kiss you and wake up
with you.”

Wary about this more for
his sake than anything else, Jessica stared at his eyes. Feeling
the emotions rise before slowly nodding her consent even as his
mouth found hers for a deep kiss that distracted her while he was
gently laying her in the center of his bed.

Feeling the bed shift under her friend’s
weight, Jessica’s hand went flat on his bare chest
instinctively.

“It’s alright, Jess,”
Roarke assured her, expecting her fear as he slowly stretched out
next to her. “Nothing happens, my love.”

Seeing her eyes drop slightly, he felt the
instant silent thought and knew he’d phrased that last comment
wrong.

“No,” gently he lifted her
face in his hand to hold her eyes. “I guess what I should say is
nothing happens until you want it to because eventually if you’d
let me, I’d hope we could go farther.”

Moving her fingers
restlessly on his chest, Jessica chewed her bottom lip. “You know
you can do anything…” she stopped at the quick flash in his
eyes.

Reminding him that
Jessica’s assault several years ago in Las Vegas had left her with
very little knowledge on how things should be between men and
women. Roarke knew that despite his past he still knew this was a
touchy area for them both.

“Since I’ve been feeling
things for you for awhile now, it’d be too bloody easy to take you
too far too fast, luv,” he was careful when he spoke to keep his
voice even but the confusion he saw in her eyes made it
hard.

Cursing that confusion and
the shadows he now saw in her eyes, Roarke was gentle as he shifted
slightly next to her so he could run his fingers down her face.
“One day when this is all settled and you’ve gotten used to me
saying ‘I love you’ we’ll go slow.”

“We’ve been close before,”
Jessica yawned, not wanting to close her eyes as she watched her
friend. “Don’t wanna hurt you though.”

“Hurt me?” Roarke frowned
slightly, not fully understanding right away then it clicked for
him and he rested his forehead against hers. “God, you are so
wonderful,” he murmured, feeling the rest of the stress in his body
leave, “you could never hurt me like that, luv.”

Jessica watched his face,
having years of experience with watching the expressions, eyes, or
emotions of friends or enemies, then slowly let her fingers move up
to touch her friend’s face. “Can I…?”

A soft kiss interrupted her
words as Roarke gently let his fingers stroke through her hair and
down over her face and down. “Just let me hold you tonight,
Jessica,” he replied, seeing her eyes drift close then struggle to
open. “Sleep, luv,” he whispered, letting his own eyes close once
he was sure his friend was sleeping, but unaware of the shadows
close by.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Lulled to sleep by his own exhaustion and
the gentle heartbeat next to him, Roarke twisted restlessly until
finally sitting up with the sudden urge burning inside.

Not sure why but Roarke
Fitzgerald, if asked later, would say he didn’t remember dressing
fully or leaving the house of his childhood to go to the cemetery
where his parents were buried, and totally unaware of the danger
lurking inside and out.

Sitting at the kitchen table with cards laid
out, Ryan was scowling at the cards and wishing for something
stronger than coffee to ward off the chill he was feeling.

“Can you cheat yourself?” Ian asked as he
entered the kitchen, unable to sleep as nerves or something
skittered along his skin.

“Some can but cheating
takes the thrill out of winning,” Ryan replied without looking up,
finally tossing the cards on the table. “I thought you went to
bed.”

Ian dug through the
refrigerator before coming to the table with the rest of Deirdre’s
chocolate cake and a glass of grapefruit juice. “I couldn’t sleep,”
he admitted after taking a bite of cake. “Just like nerves running
under my skin or electricity.”

In the middle of frowning
at his youngest brother’s food choice, Ryan’s eyes shifted at that
description as it matched his own unease. “What else did you
feel?”

“Just like there’s
something outside watching.” Ian didn’t see his brother’s
expression but did finally frown as something else bothered him.
“Roarke must have felt it since he’s not in his room.”

“Shit,” Ryan swore, shoving
away from the table. “Go get Kerry and Mac. We should have done the
protection spell before going to bed.”

Ian looked at his snack then shrugged and
went for his brothers, not seeing the shadow in the hall.

Mac couldn’t relax no
matter how hard he tried. Usually a nice friendly fight with Ryan
soothed his stress but tonight it hadn’t done anything. The shower
and the meditation hadn’t helped either. He was about ready to give
in when Maggie Cavanaugh stuck her head in.

“You awake?” she asked the
obvious then entered before he could reply. “Dumb question, but
does your brother have dogs?”

“No, not officially he
doesn’t,” Mac sighed, standing easily and seeing the woman’s
unease. “Something’s outside and something’s wrong.”

Maggie rolled her eyes, for
the first time she was actually uneasy since this all started.
“Gotta plan to deal with it then, Doc?” she asked, nearly jumping
when the quick knock sounded before Ian came in.

“Ryan said to find you.
Roarke’s gone outside and something’s wrong,” he spoke
quickly.

“Stay inside and stay close
to Jess,” Mac told Maggie as he quickly pulled his shirt and boots
on. “Anything happens, yell for me.”

Both men were out the door
before Maggie could reply, then all she could do was shake her head
and try to put aside the odd feelings she had.

“If Sebastian makes a move on him this
soon…” Mac was muttering as he came down the massive stairs to see
Kerry waiting and scowling.

“It’s not Sebastian,” his
temper was on the surface and bubbling that he had been so stupid
as to think they’d be free of the woman’s interference. “She’s
here.”

Mac didn’t have to ask who
‘she’ was, knowing by the tone that Kathleen Murphy Fitzgerald had
finally picked a time and place to react to her grandsons’ snub
earlier.

As the front door shut, the
misty shadow slowly formed into a shape and Sebastian smiled as he
knew that most people had more than one weakness, and if he
couldn’t access one than he would fall to the other.

Maggie was sitting
cross-legged on Mac’s bed reading the battered and worn book her
grandmother had given her when a large heavy book bound in ancient
leather hit the bed next to her leg, causing her to look up, and
she was very proud of herself for not screaming.

Standing not two feet from
her was the image of a man, a tall, slender man with thick
jet-black hair and smoky gray eyes. The scowl on his face looked
harsh yet she didn’t feel any fear.

“Help them, Mary Margaret
Cavanaugh, and never fear him,” Toryn Fitzgerald seemed to glare at
her then his gaze softened. “Patrick needs someone who is an equal
but understands him and his family.”

Maggie blinked once and the
image was gone, but the well- kept leather bound book that was
three times the size of her family’s Book of Shadows remained on
the bed, and it seemed to be vibrating as she reached for it even
when she felt the scream more than heard it. “Oh, bloody
hell.”

The night air held a chill
along with a low hanging misting fog as Roarke slowly made his way
from the house to the family cemetery where his parents had been
laid to rest

Even though he hadn’t been
down these paths in fifteen years he had no problem finding it in
the dark, yet as he passed the gate and neared the stone his head
began to buzz.

A sudden wave of dizziness caused him to
falter, going to one knee just to regain his balance as images and
memories began flooding back.

“God, no,” he groaned,
feeling his stomach flip as images took him back to that barn and
the pain and shame.

“You see the trouble you
still cause?” Kathleen spoke from the shadows where she stood, a
black velvet cloak shielding her from the mist. “Naughty little
boy, you should have died on that island, not your father. Then you
couldn’t even die in Mayo when I told Ida and Felan to make you
their whore, to beat you to within an inch of your life,” she
clucked her tongue as she crossed the grass toward him, eyes
blazing with hatred.

Roarke fought the images,
the pain, to focus on the voice bearing in his ears yet having been
taken by surprise, he wasn’t strong enough yet to combat his
grandmother’s power.

“Why couldn’t you die?!” she screamed at
him, hand lashing out and invisible nails raked his face, drawing
blood.

Body shaking, Roarke
finally lifted his head up to look at the older woman that he still
had nightmares about. “I don’t know,” he whispered, unknown tears
shining. “Why didn’t you do it yourself that night in
Mayo?”

Looking startled, Kathleen
stared hard and bitterly. “Why should I sully my hands with such a
task?” she chided, waving it away. “I assumed that Ida’s lads would
finish you off or one of those strapping lads that worked for them.
I merely took a strap to you.”

“After you cast a spell
that would double the damage done, after you sat and watched what
they did,” he threw back then cried out as pain like a fist hit his
stomach, and feelings that were more familiar took over.
“No…”

“I could kill you with a
thought, lad,” Kathleen snapped, glaring down as her grandson
collapsed on the ground. “But I think before I do, I want you to
recall what those times felt like when you served the only purpose
you’d ever have been good for anyway. Feel what Sebastian will make
that British whore who ruined my plans feel before she
dies.”

Roarke’s mind flashed on that but couldn’t
focus on anything past what he was being made to see and feel as
his body automatically curled in a near fetal position to fight
against the spell that caused the vivid memories to be real to
him.

Smiling as she watched the
boy she hated so much shake under her control, she took a step
closer when a thin bladed dagger landed next to her pointed-toe
shoe.

“Back the hell away from
him,” Ryan’s tone was firm as he stepped from the
darkness.

“Leave this alone, Ryan,”
Kathleen warned, still hoping her grandsons could see reason as she
started around the dagger that flew back to Ryan’s hand at his
will. “He’s an evil boy that cost you and your brothers a father’s
love and you wouldn’t want to associate with all the dirt and evil
he…”

A step sounded from her
left and Kathleen found herself staring into Mac’s cold eyes. “Evil
you caused,” he threw back at her. “You knew what was going to
happen on that island yet you prevented Kerry from being on time.
Now release him.”

“You do not give me orders,
boyo,” Kathleen shot back, whirling to turn back to deal with
Roarke, but bumped into Ian who had come from the right.

“Why hurt him?” he asked,
eyes chilly as he looked at this woman he felt nothing for. “He’s
of your blood.”

Kathleen’s eyes flamed yet
her youngest grandchild didn’t flinch. “He is of her blood!” she
snapped. “That no-good Galway whore seduced my son.”

“So why hate Roarke more
than the rest of us?” Ian demanded more firmly. “All of us shared
the same parents so what did Roarke do to you?”

Silence answered the youngest Fitzgerald as
the only sound heard was the effects of her spell on Roarke.

“Damn it.” Ryan went to go
to his brother but found himself shoved away.

“Leave him!” she snapped,
anger fueling her powers. “Let him suffer before he dies or begs
for death since Sebastian will claim his woman if he doesn’t submit
to him.”