Behind the Veil: 3 (Temptation Unveiled) (14 page)

“The glyph literally means ‘I am a battle-waging spear’. The
dark king that rules winter.” Bear’s eyes seemed to reflect the stone as he
studied it. “Tinne is a complicated rune, like the holly itself. Sharp thorns
pointed outward to defend the fragile beauty inside. In a person, this would
represent someone who looks like they can protect themselves, and perhaps in
many ways they can, but when out of balance, their sensitive spirit can be
affected by outside influences. Affected by the light…or by the darkness.”

She stepped back, bumping into Finn before moving away from
everyone, her back to the wall. “Is this some weird Druid way of accusing me of
something? Are you saying I’ve been influenced by the
Dark
?”

Badger touched Bear’s hand affectionately when he winced. “No,
of course he’s not. But you
have
been affected. Touched. And because of
your gifts, your—let’s call them complexities—that effect has been allowed to
intensify.” She smiled kindly at Sheridan, moving subtly to take a protective
stance in front of Meru. “The good news is you made your own monster, Sheridan
Kelly. Though if you’d allowed it more time to grow, it might eventually have
manifested. But since you have so many other things you have to worry about, we
need to get this out of the way now.”

“I saw it.” Finn’s voice was harsh with warning. As if he
were also waiting to see what Badger would do. Was he concerned? “In her
dreams, I saw it. It was real. It felt like Horde.”

Badger tsked. “I’m sure it did. Don’t feel shame that your
tracking instincts had a hard time discerning the difference. Sheridan is strong.
Meru, Bear and I have all sensed it. Her gift is as well. True knowing alone
can be a powerful tool. To truly know something, on occasion, is to become it.
To walk inside its skin.”

Meru bit her full lower lip, her voice subdued. Thoughtful. “She’s
always been strong. But after…when she came back, the energy around her was
more alive. Intense. As if she’d turned up the volume inside.”

Badger nodded. “She might not have meant to, but I believe
her experience with the Horde was so traumatic that she took some of it inside
her. Knew it completely. Then she allowed it to become her nemesis. It may have
woken her gifts, but it also elevated her fears and doubts about herself. That
only added power to her creation. She doesn’t see it, even now, but her
blinders are starting to become a danger to her.”

Sheridan held up her hands, her body instinctively preparing
for battle. “First of all,
she
is standing right here and wishes people
would stop talking like she wasn’t. Secondly, I don’t see your flaming poi
anywhere, Badger. Are you going to fight it out of me? Or will
Bear
slay
this thing that’s been killing me for months, making me think I’m crazy, or
worse, possessed—taking me away from my family? This thing you say
I
made. If you know so goddamned much, then tell me how to make it go away
instead of analyzing me in front of the class.”

They will fool you. I can’t be destroyed. I will never
leave you. You can’t make something like me. But I can unmake you.

Had it really been her all along? Was she just crazy? If this
was her “power”, she’d gotten a truly shitty gift from her ancestor and she’d
be perfectly willing to give it back. Maybe trade it in for Meru’s talents. Or
none at all. She didn’t want to understand her enemy. She wanted to find that
bloody spear and destroy her enemy with violent and repeated blows.

Badger’s voice broke through the angry buzz building around
her head. “Sheridan, you need to calm down before you hurt someone.”

Another voice swore, muttering. “Is that Hawk’s dagger? How
the hell did she get her hands on that?”

Sheridan didn’t know what their words meant and she didn’t
care. She needed to fight. She was ready to fight. A red haze was descending in
a cloak of pure, unadulterated rage around her shoulders. She heard the angry
screech of a massive hawk…was in awe of its wingspan. She felt its talons dig
into her skin. She knew—as it was happening—she knew what she was. What she
would always be. Something no one and nothing could stop or defeat. Something
isolated and alone and craving carnage.

She was berserker.

“No!” Finn gripped her arm and twisted it behind her back.
She heard the dagger clatter to the floor over her pounding heart. When he spoke
again, it wasn’t to her. “I knew ancient Druids, Badger. Full-blooded and in
their prime. I’ve seen powerful empathy and telepathy in those with this gift.
I’ve never fucking seen this.”

Seen what? She desperately gasped for air, feeling as if a
heavy weight was lifting off her chest. What had just happened?

She could hear Meru crying—had she done something to make
Meru cry?—and Badger soothing her before she answered Finn. “Nor have I. For
now, we know she well and truly has a gift that can aid her investigation…once
she’s calm again. And I can help with that. A little of my tonic mixed with
something special.”

Sheridan looked over in time to see Badger pass the shaking
Meru into Bear’s protective embrace and reach into her substantial cleavage to
pull out a small, silver flask. She made a halfhearted attempt to pull away
from Finn, but his grip tightened, pressing her body against his in a way that
made her moan softly. “What is the something in the special?”

Badger shook her head and unscrewed the top, walking toward
her until she was close enough to hold it up to Sheridan’s pursed lips. “Just
drink, Sheridan. Trust that I would never harm a descendant of Áine.”

She felt her shoulders relax. This was Badger, Linnea’s most
trusted confidante and a loyal friend to Meru. She drank.

As she swallowed, she caught Badger’s whisper. “More
clarity. More peace. More control.”

Finn growled, hearing it too. “Did you receive permission
from the queen to pilfer water from Dagda’s Cauldron?”

“I have permission from the princess and the Guardian
Mother,” she huffed. “And this is an emergency. That will have to smooth your
ruffled feathers for now, Finn.”

“Is she okay?” Meru sounded concerned. Sheridan wanted to
console her. Wanted to be the one to tell her everything was going to be fine,
but she couldn’t. She felt too good. Felt as if she could fly.

A sense of peace and contentment turned her limbs into warm
butter. She was with Finn. She was safe. Nothing could hurt her. She looked up
at him through her lashes and smiled.

Finn’s expression was oddly suspicious. “Why is she looking
at me like that? What else was in that elixir?”

The deep male chuckle behind her only made her smile grow
wider. Bear was nice. “I think our warrior is finally loosening up. She’ll be
no good to anyone but herself until she sleeps it off. Then she’ll be better.”

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.”

Sheridan turned her head with difficulty, unwilling to look
away from Finn’s beautiful eyes. Meru was standing right beside her with a
stern frown. “We always tell each other everything. You didn’t have to go
through this alone.”

“S’over?” Her lips were too thick to move properly. She
should probably wonder why.

Badger seemed to be able to translate. “The clarity should
give you the ability to see the illusion you made for what it is. The control
should allow you to get rid of your monster and to use your gift the way you
want to instead of allowing it to use you.”

That made sense. And it sounded like poetry. Sheridan nodded
in sleepy thanks and reached up to pat Meru’s cheek with her free hand. “Safe
now. M’good.”

Meru’s lips twitched. “You’re good, huh? You sound kind of
drunk to me. But maybe that’s not so bad. You were always a fun drunk. I remember
several Christmas parties where table dancing ensued.” Sheridan snorted and
Meru covered her mouth with her hand, glancing away from her and up to Finn. “You
better not let her go. I’m not sure she can stand in this condition. And don’t
let her near any tables.”

“I’m not letting go.”

Heat flared to life in her belly at Finn’s words. He looked
pained but sounded determined. It was a little bit adorable. “S’at a promise?”

He bared his teeth. “Oh hell.”

She wasn’t sure why that was funny. But it must have been,
because everyone around her was laughing. Everyone but Finn.

* * * * *

He looked down at her as she slept blissfully in his arms in
Ceri and Dian’s bed. He’d brought her here because—well, because he could think
of nowhere else. And because she might want to see Kyle when she woke up.

In Danu’s name,
when
was she going to wake up?

This was Finn’s payback. His torment for not protecting her.
For not thinking of Dagda’s healing waters sooner. It was the queen who
controlled the use of the artifact. She alone chose how best to distribute the
magical cornucopia that was the cauldron.

He should have asked as soon as he’d retrieved her from her
captor. All those months she’d suffered alone… He should have asked.

But Druids with true knowing had never exhibited that kind
of link to their subjects before. Never taken in the essence of something and
made it real the way she had with Eonis. The way she had, right in front of
him, with Hawk’s dagger. Until he’d walked through her dreams, he had no way of
knowing what she was going through.

She’d been a police investigator. She’d profiled criminals.
She’d never become one herself. So why now?

Badger believed it was brought on by exposure to their worlds—Fae
and Archon—and by her trauma. The good instincts she’d been born with had been
a pale reflection of her actual abilities. She would be able to do much more
than imagine what had led someone to commit a crime—now she would be able to
experience it.

It made sense, but still, Finn thought there was something
more. He had been stretching his tracker’s senses as far as they could reach
inside her, looking for an answer. A Fae answer. As far as he was concerned,
that was the only plausible reason for…so many things that were not adding up
about this woman. Up to and including his reaction to her. He’d been hard as a
stone for hours, frustrated and in pain, but he knew if anyone tried to take
her away from him, he would kill them. He would rather suffer beside her. Rather
never find satisfaction or peace than be away from her.

She was his
síorghrá.
His other half.

Her taste, his possessiveness, even his determination to
hold back last night proved it. Despite their deal and the fact that it had
almost killed him, he’d held back. She might be a descendant of Áine, but there
had to be more. So why couldn’t he sense it? It was almost as if there were
something right at the edge of his inner vision. Stubbornly remaining just out
of reach.

But what he felt wasn’t wrong. Sheridan was his. Now she
just had to wake up so he could prove it to her. How much longer would he have
to wait?

“She’s been fighting herself for months. Is it any wonder
she’s tired?”

Finn shook his head with a sigh. “Dian, I didn’t see you
there. Please, come in and enter my thoughts at will.”

Dian smiled and sat at the foot of the bed, pretending not
to hear the sarcasm. “I sensed something strange when I brought her to witness
the claiming, but I wasn’t sure what it was. I suppose it was the remnants of
the Horde she’d been clinging to. Poor girl.”

Finn grew defensive on her behalf. “Sheridan is strong. She’s
a warrior.”

The pale Dweller nodded. “Yes, a warrior. A cop.” He wrapped
his lips around the word with a resounding pop, as if tasting the sound. “Even
harder for
her
though, isn’t it? Growing up with two women whose heads
were firmly in the clouds? She was—if Kyle’s memories can be believed—the only
one around to take care of things. Fix the cars, call the plumber and most
importantly, follow the rules. She became a cop to make sure those rules were
enforced. Myrddin meant well, for an Archon, but to wake Meru, he ripped Sheridan’s
security away. She was storm-tossed. And we know what happened next.”

Eonis.

“She blamed herself.” Dian’s voice was hypnotic. Riveting. “In
her old world with all those rules, someone had to be punished. She blamed
herself, so she punished herself.”

Finn pulled the warm, sleeping body curled up into him
closer, pressing his lips against her sweet-smelling hair. Poor girl indeed. If
anyone understood a need for following the rules, it was Finn.

“Yes, you do have a lot in common.” Dian’s smile was somber.
“I can see why you think she’s your one. You are the only other person I know
who would punish themselves unnecessarily for something you weren’t responsible
for. Something you had no control over.”

His brand. Finn lowered his lids to study Dian through his
lashes. “Stay out of issues that don’t concern you. You are a Dweller living in
the home of an exile. You know nothing about my problems.”

“And you are a prince in bed with a Druid in the home of an
exile. An exile who has done more favors for you in the last two days than you
deserve.” Ceri, carrying a tray loaded with three steaming cups of liquid,
stood over the bed and made a face. “For all our effort, the least you can do
is let my Dweller wander through your deepest, darkest secrets and fears. Other
than pleasuring me, it’s his favorite pastime.”

“Too true.” Dian’s pale eyes were twinkling.

Finn felt the soft bursts of breath against his chest as
Sheridan chuckled. She was awake? For how long? Had she heard what Dian had
said?

“It’s about time you woke up,” he grumbled. Trying to hide
his desires in front of the other two Fae in the room was a waste of time, but
he was willing to try so he wouldn’t embarrass her.

Sheridan’s blonde hair was sleep-tousled, framing sensual
but clear, hazel eyes. She looked better.