Heaven and Earth (31 page)

“I know that. I’m not going to let this happen, Mia. I need you to promise you won’t stop me, however it has to be done.”

“We’ll find a way. Let me tend to those burns.”

“You’ll stop me,” Ripley repeated, taking Mia’s wrist, squeezing urgently. “You’re stronger than I am, and you know just how close I am to the edge to admit that.”

“What needs to be done will be done.” Impatient, Mia pushed Ripley’s hand away. “These are painful. Let me tend to them.”

“For a minute, the burn was arousing.” Ripley took a steadying breath. “Seductive. I wanted it, and what it would do to me.”

“That’s part of its slyness.” But fear, cold and clammy, shivered over Mia’s skin. “You know that, too.”

“Yeah, I know it. And now I’ve felt it. You and Nell can hold out against it, and Nell stands in front of Zack. But I saw what could happen, and I’m not taking any chances. I can’t leave, it won’t work. So Mac’s going to have to go.”

“He won’t.” Mia soothed the welts with her fingertips.

“I’ll make him.”

With her hand on Ripley’s heart, Mia felt the beat that was love and fear. Her own ached in sympathy. “You can try.”

Steps to be
taken, Ripley reminded herself as she approached the yellow cottage. This one, most of all, had to be faced. She didn’t need second sight or a ball of crystal to foresee that it would be painful. More painful than
the raw welts that even Mia hadn’t been able to erase completely from her skin.

He might hate her when she was done. But he would be safe.

She didn’t hesitate, but knocked, then strolled in.

Dressed in a ragged sweatshirt and rattier jeans, he stood in the crowded bedroom. He was reviewing the tape from the night before. It was a jolt to see him on the monitor—so calm, so unruffled, so
steady
—sitting on the bed beside her, gently taking her pulse while his voice reassured.

A jolt to see him glance over at her now, to see the concentration in his eyes, then the easy pleasure that warmed them.

He stood, blocking the monitor with his body, then switching it off.

“Hi. You snuck off on me this morning.”

“Had stuff,” she said with a shrug. “Back at work, huh?”

“It can wait. How about some coffee?”

“Yeah, that’d be good.” She didn’t avoid the kiss, but neither did she respond. She knew he was puzzled, so she breezed by him into the kitchen.

“I wanted to talk to you,” she began. “I know we’ve been hanging out a lot.”

“Hanging out?”

“Yeah. We’ve got a real nice sizzle between us, especially between the sheets.” She sat, stretching out her legs, crossing her feet at the ankles. “But the thing is, it’s getting a little intense for me. Wow, last night especially really went over the top. I’m going to have to back off.”

“Back off?” He caught himself parroting her again, shook his head. “I understand last night’s session was
rough.” He got down two mugs, poured coffee. “You need a break from that.”

“You’re not following me.” Already bleeding inside, she took the mug he offered. “It’s not just the work area—I’ve got to admit, I found it a lot more interesting than I thought I would. Brains are pretty sexy. I’ve never hung out with a really smart guy before.”

She sipped the coffee, burned her tongue, and kept right on talking. “Look, Mac, you’re really a nice guy, and I think we both had a good time. You even helped me clear my head about a lot of stuff. I appreciate that.”

“Do you?”

There he was, she thought, looking at her as if she were a bug on a slide. “You bet. But I’m starting to feel a little, you know, confined. I need to move on.”

“I see.” His voice was calm, just a bit detached. “So, you’re dumping me.”

“That’s a little harsh.” He wasn’t reacting as she’d expected. He didn’t look angry, upset, hurt, shocked. He simply looked mildly interested. “Why don’t we keep it friendly and just say it’s been fun?”

“Okay.” He leaned back on the counter, crossing his long legs at the ankles in a move that eerily mirrored hers, then sipped his coffee. “It’s been fun.”

“Great.” A little sliver of resentment worked through, pricking her heart, and her voice. “Figured you for a reasonable type, which is probably why you’re not really
my
type. I guess you’ll be heading back to New York pretty soon.”

“No, not for several more weeks.”

“I don’t see the point in staying. I don’t want to play anymore.”

“I guess I have to make sure you’re not the center of my universe, then. I still have work to do on the Sisters.”

“You won’t get any more cooperation from me. Look, I’m just thinking of how you’re going to feel. It’s a small world here. People are going to know I broke things off. It’s going to be embarrassing for you.”

“Let me worry about that.”

“Fine. Not my problem.” She pushed to her feet.

“No, it’s not.” He spoke pleasantly as he set his mug aside. She never saw it coming. One second he was studying her with that vague curiosity, and the next he’d yanked her against him.

His mouth was like a fever on hers. Hot, angry, draining.

“Why are you lying to me?”

She was out of breath, and her thoughts had scattered like ants. “Hands off!”

“Why are you lying?” he repeated, and backed her up against the refrigerator door.

Detached? she thought wildly. Had she thought he was detached?

“Where did all this bull come from?” He gave her one quick shake. “Why are you trying to hurt me?”

And it did hurt, a deep, throbbing ache in the pit of his stomach, a slow, twisting twinge in the heart.

“I’m not trying to hurt you, but I will if you keep pushing yourself on me. I don’t want you.”

“You’re a liar. You held me when you slept.”

“I can’t be responsible for what I do in my sleep.”

“You turned to me in the dark.” His voice was relentless. A part of him felt as if he was fighting for his life. “You gave yourself to me.”

“Sex is—”

“It wasn’t sex.” He remembered how it had been. For both of them. His hands gentled, and his anger became
exasperation. “Do you think you can trick me into turning away from you, leaving the island? Why?”

“I don’t want you here.” She shoved at him, and her voice began to hitch. “I don’t want you near me.”

“Why?”

“Because, you moron, I’m in love with you.”

Eighteen

H
e ran his
hands down her arms, taking hers as he leaned over to touch his lips to her forehead.

“Well, you idiot, I’m in love with you, too. Let’s sit down and start there.”

“What? What?” She would have pulled her hands free, but he only tightened his grip. “Back off.”

“No.” He said it gently. “No, Ripley, I won’t back off. I won’t go away. And I won’t stop loving you. You might as well swallow that, then we can work on what’s scared you so much you want me gone.”

“Mac, if you love me, you’ll pack up and go back to New York for a while.”

“It doesn’t work that way. No,” he repeated as she opened her mouth again.

“Don’t be so damn—”

“ ‘Implacable’ is a term I’ve heard applied to me occasionally. It’s classier, I think, than ‘hardheaded.’ In this case, however, I don’t think either applies.” He angled his head. “You get spooked about something, worried about someone, your instinct is to step away. The way you did with your gift,” he continued over her protest. “The way
you did with Mia. I won’t let you do that with me. With us. Ripley.” He lifted their joined hands, kissed her knuckles. “I’m so in love with you.”

“Don’t.” Her heart, she thought, couldn’t take it. “Just wait.”

“I hate to keep saying no to you. I’ll make it up to you later.” And he lowered his head and kissed her until her bones went liquid.

“I don’t know what to do, how to handle this. I’ve never had this before.”

“Me, either. We’ll figure it out. Let’s sit down and get started.”

“I told Zack I’d be back in twenty minutes. I didn’t think it would take that long to . . .”

“To dump me.” He grinned at her. “Surprise. You want to call him?”

She shook her head. “I can’t think straight. Hell, he knows where I am if he needs me.” It seemed as if everything inside her was jumping and twisting around. And yet, at the center of it, her heart was glowing like the moon. “You’re in love with me?”

“Completely.”

“Well.” She sniffled. “How come you never mentioned it before?” she demanded.

“How come you didn’t mention you were in love with me?”

“I asked you first.”

“Got me there. Maybe I was building up to it. You know . . .” He squeezed her arms before he nudged her into a chair. “Softening you up.”

“Maybe I was doing the same thing.”

“Really? Telling me you were done with me is an odd way to accomplish that.”

“Mac.” She leaned forward, and this time she took his
hands. “You’re the first man I’ve ever said it to. You have to be careful throwing that word around. If you’re careless with it, casual with it, it loses power. You’re the first because you’re the first. And for me, you’ll be the only. That’s how it works with the Todds. We mate for life. So you have to marry me.”

His system kicked, a quick boot. “I have to marry you?”

“Yeah. So that takes care of that.”

“Hold on.” Pleasure trickled through him. “Don’t I get a ring or something? Then you get down on one knee and ask, and I say yes or no?”

“You’re pushing your luck.”

“I feel lucky. I’m buying a house.”

“Oh.” There was a tug. Grief, sorrow. Acceptance. “New York. Yeah, well, that’s where your work is. Guess they always need cops there.”

“Probably, but I’m buying a house here. Do you think I’d ask you to leave your heart? Don’t you know mine’s here now, too?”

She stared at him. For one long moment, she could do nothing but stare at him. And saw their lives in his eyes. “Don’t make me cry. I hate that.”

“I put in an offer on the Logan place.”

“The . . .” Big and beautiful and by the sea. “It’s not for sale.”

“Oh, but it’s going to be. I can be very tenacious. I want children.”

“So do I.” Her fingers tightened on his. “It’ll be good with us. Good and solid and real. But you have to do something for me first.”

“I’m not going away.”

“Can’t you trust me enough to do this one thing?”

“That won’t work either. Tell me what’s frightening you. Start with the dream last night.”

She looked away from him. “I killed you.”

“How?” he asked, sounding intrigued.

“What, have you got ice in your veins? I ended your life, your existence.”

“We’ll figure out the solution faster if we don’t panic. Tell me about the dream.”

She shoved away from the table, paced the room three times in tight little circles trying to burn off her agitation. And told him. And in telling him brought it all back so clearly that fear crawled through her like freshly hatched spiders.

“I killed you, and destroyed everything that matters,” she finished. “I can’t carry that load, Mac. Can’t deal with it. It’s why I turned away from what I am. Turned away from Mia. It seemed the right—the only—thing to do. Part of me still thinks that.”

“But you know that won’t work and that you have to face it.”

“You’re asking me to risk you, my family, my friends, my home.”

“No, I’m not,” he said gently. “I’m asking you to protect us.”

Emotion totally swamped her. “God, Mac, that was a big button to push.”

“I know it. I’ll help you, Ripley. I think I was meant to. Meant to love you,” he added, taking her fisted hand, smoothing it open. “To be a part of this. I don’t think my life’s work is a coincidence, or my coming here, or my sitting here with you right now. And I know we’re stronger together than we are apart.”

She looked down at their joined hands. Everything she wanted, she realized, and hadn’t known she was looking for, was right here in her grasp.

“If I kill you, it’s really going to piss me off.”

His lips twitched. “Me, too.”

“Are you wearing Mia’s pendant?”

“Yeah.”

“Don’t go anywhere without it. Or this.” She dug in her pocket. She should have known where it was all heading when she felt compelled to bring it with her. The ring was a complex twist of silver, a trio of melded circles, scored with symbols. “It was my grandmother’s.”

He was humbled, and incredibly moved. Had to clear his throat. “So I get a ring after all.”

“Looks like. It’s going to be too small for your hand. Wear it on the chain with the pendant.”

He took it from her, squinting as he tried to make out the symbols without his glasses. “It looks Celtic.”

“It is. The middle circle says ‘justice,’ the ones on either side say ‘compassion’ and ‘love.’ I guess that covers it.”

“It’s a beautiful piece.” He took off the chain, opened it, and slid the ring on. “Thank you.”

Before he could slip the chain back over his head, she gripped his wrist. “Hypnotize me again.”

“It’s too dangerous.”

“Don’t give me that crap. This is all too dangerous. I want you to take me under, give me some posthypnotic suggestion or whatever it is. Something that will stop me if I start to lose control.”

“In the first place, you’re too open to other energies when you’re in a trance state. You were like a sponge, Ripley, soaking up what others poured into you. And in the second place, I have no idea if any suggestion would hold. When you’re conscious and aware, you’re too strong-minded, too strong-willed, to be influenced in that way.”

“It’s another line of defense. We don’t know it won’t
work unless we try. This is something you can do, and I’m trusting you. I’m asking you for help.”

“That’s a hell of a button, too. Okay, we’ll try it. Not now,” he added quickly. “I want some time to do a little more research and prepare. And I want Nell and Mia here.”

“Why can’t this be just between us?”

“Because it’s not. I’ll try it, but only when you have your circle. Now wait here a minute.” He said it in such a no-nonsense, don’t-bother-to-argue tone that Ripley wasn’t sure if she was irritated, amused, or impressed. But she sat, drumming her fingers on the table, as he left the room.

While she listened to him rummaging around in the bedroom, muttering to himself, she drank the coffee she’d let go cold.

When he came back, he drew her to her feet. “I bought this in Ireland a dozen years ago.” Turning her hand over, he placed a silver disk in her palm. Through its center ran a swirling rise of silver, and on either side sat a small, perfectly round stone.

“Rose quartz and moonstone,” Ripley said.

“For love, and for compassion. I bought it as a kind of talisman, a good luck piece. I always carry it with me. Can’t find it half the time, but it always turns up. So I think it’s been pretty lucky. It has a loop in the back, so I imagine it was once worn as a pendant. Or you can just carry it in your pocket. I didn’t know it at the time, but I bought it for you.”

She rested her head on his shoulder. “This is going to make me mushy.”

“I don’t mind.”

“I have to get back to work, and I can’t be all googly-eyed. I really love you,” she told him as she turned her mouth up to his. “I really do.”

He nudged her along, careful not to behave as if he
was nudging her along.

He had a great deal to do.

Mac wasn’t foolish enough to believe he couldn’t be hurt. Even killed. No, he believed Ripley’s dream was a foretelling of what could be. The cycle that had begun three hundred years before was still in play.

But he was also smart enough to know various means to protect himself, and to believe that knowledge is power. He would gather more knowledge and strengthen the shield over both of them.

He wouldn’t risk putting her in a vulnerable trance state unless he was certain she would be safe.

He got out the copies of his ancestor’s journal entry, and found the page he wanted.

February 17

It is early, before dawn. Cold and deep dark. I have left my husband sleeping warm in bed, and come to my tower room to write this. A restlessness is on me, a worry that nags like a bad tooth.

A mist hangs over the house like a shroud. It presses against the glass. I can hear it scratching—sly little fingers made of bone. How it craves to come in. I have charmed the doors and windows and all the tiny cracks, as my mother taught me before despair swallowed her spirit.

How long ago that was, and yet on a night such as this it was only yesterday. And I pine for her—the
comfort, the strength, the beauty of her. With this chill seeping into my bones, I wish for her counsel. But it is barred to me, even through crystal and glass.

It is not for myself I fear, but for my children’s children’s children. I have seen the world in my dreams, a hundred years times three. Such wonders. Such magic. Such grief.

A cycle spins. I cannot see it clearly. But I know my blood, before and after me, spins with it. Strength, purity, wisdom, and, above all, love will war with what now creeps outside my house.

It is ageless, it is ever. And it is dark.

Blood of mine freed it, and blood of mine will face it. From this place and time I can do little more than protect what is now and pray for what will come. I will leave what magic I can behind me for these beloved and distant children.

Evil cannot and will not be vanquished by evil. Dark will only swallow dark and deepen. The good and the light are the keenest weapons. Let those who come after hold them ready, and end this in time.

Beneath was a charm written in Gaelic that Mac had already translated. He studied it again now, hoping that the message from the past would help with the now.