Love of Her Lives (24 page)

“I fear for her, Finn. Something is not right. I feel it in my bones.”

Finn wavered again as if Calum saw him through gases. His time with Finn was coming to an end. “Bethia summoned me with a request,” Finn informed him. “She wished to return home. I gave her a key to enable it.”

Fear grew scalding hot in his belly. “Did she use the key?” He didn’t bother to keep the low growl from his voice.

“Of course she did. You forced it upon her.”

Bloody fool! “Me? Can neither of you see it’s the last thing I intended? I couldn’t have made it clearer she was to stay here — safe!”

“You’ve not learned much in your thousand years together. It’s disappointing, Calum. Bethia’s will is too strong to succumb to yours.”

At least his will was reasonable. He was about to tell Finn so, when his rebuttal tripped in his throat. Bloody hell, the elf was right. He’d been too riled to notice himself backing Beth into a corner. It’d been easy to do since he’d not known she had the means to retaliate. He released a long exhale of self–reproach, finally stepping into the light of understanding. How many times over their lives together had he driven her to take action, reckless or not, just to spite him? Why had he not seen it before?

Calum groaned. “Where is she?”

“For someone hell–bent on safeguard, you’re not doing so well,” Finn pointed out. “Bethia is in the mountains, in a cabin, not nearly as quaint as yours. She doesn’t have long to live.”

The blood drained from his heart. She’d fallen prey to Matthew. Torturous variations of Bethia helpless under Matthew’s hand stormed his brain. “No, Finn, she can’t come to harm. ‘Twas the deal we struck. You must set me free of this dimension. I will destroy her tormenter and see her safe.”

Finn crossed his arms over his chest. “Yet another request? I’m not your personal genie. It will cost you, human.”

Calum crossed his arms too, but more so for restraint. Any more games and he would throttle the immortal. “Whatever price, Finn. We’ve no time to bicker over this.”

Finn relaxed his stance. “No time? You’re right; your time here has run out. Does it not rile you that in the Upper World, you are long denied the skill to manipulate time? The Old Ones withhold that knowledge while they manipulate the mechanisms behind your very soul. We are alike, warrior, enticed by the forbidden. For that reason, I not only granted your request to rescue your true love, I bestowed you and Bethia with yet another gift — time — three days here while time on Earth hardly moved. You should be thankful. I know humans who would kill for it.”

His muscles stretched taut over bone ready to flee to her. He didn’t care one whit about gifts of time. “I’ll be thankful when she’s safe,” he snapped with more menace than he intended. Damn. Temperance characterises the greater man, he reminded himself, more so when seeking the favour of an elf. “Your gift is greatly appreciated, Finn.”

“You could have her back in the Upper World, you realize. All you need do is nothing. It won’t take long.”

Let her die. Calum felt only a flicker of temptation. Until that moment, he’d not truly recognised the power behind his dedication to safeguard Bethia on her human sojourn until the prescribed time of her departure, and that time was decades away. Every fiber of his being was now acutely alert to that cause. Pleasing himself by cutting her human experience short was not an option. He’d always known that. “Our evolution may be slower than the Alfar, and it’s no secret I oppose the Old Ones’ reluctance to share wisdom. I took an oath to guide and protect Bethia until the end of her journey. She is not meant to return to the Upper World now. I must intervene to prevent that.”

“Ah, yes, a so–called miracle. What if I offered to bring you back to my world? To open your eyes to the Alfar and train you in the
alfatofrar
powers you may only read about in books. What then, warrior?”

What then? The possibilities presented like sweet enticement. He would no longer suffer the frustrating powerlessness that forced him to sit back while humans made grave errors. He could scry their future, intercede, and show them where they were headed. He’d no longer suffer the indignity of having his hands slapped by the Old Ones, no longer be branded disobedient, no longer crave knowledge thus far withheld.

He caught the look of superiority on Finn’s face and glanced away. A guarantee that he wouldn’t end his days in that desolate dimension, but what price would he pay for Finn’s ‘training?’ Where then would his allegiance lie? With Finn, the devious trickster he’d be a fool to trust? With the Alfar who’d exiled Finn? As if they would have him. With humans he could no longer expect to follow to the Upper World? The Old Ones would surely banish him. And what of Bethia? He had gained remarkable insight into their relationship foibles, but was it too late? When she learned the full truth behind his intervention, the little ground he’d gained with her these last days, would come undone — that he sensed clearly. Had he truly lost her now?

Finn bristled and the sky darkened. Calum felt his gaze boring into him. “I cannot accept your offer, Finn, generous as it is.”

Finn vanished.

“Damn it, Finn! Take me to her!”

A boreal wind gusted in over the mountains, rustling up dried leaves, thumping the ax to the ground, clattering through the hardwoods like a squall rising Calum’s hackles. Finn’s silver voice spilled off the mountain, freezing Calum to the ground.

“You will do as
I
order, vassal. You serve, not dictate! You will finish the game by my rules. Do you concede?”

Calum gritted his teeth. He squinted against the dust and dirt thrown up by the wind hitting his face no matter which way he turned. He’d no choice but to chance enraging Finn further by attaching a condition. “If Bethia is safe and free to live out the rest of her days to her prescribed end, then yes, I will abide by your rules.”

The gale slowed to a gust and Finn appeared as a shimmer before him. “Very good. I hate feeble surrenders. Your loyalty to the woman you love is admirable. It always has been. But for true love, Calum, there is nothing nobler than sacrifice, and the time has come for yours. I hope your restoration was glorious. Are you ready?”

Yes, it’d been glorious, everything he knew it would be, a gift, but too short. Better to have had it, than not. He’d pay any price to abolish Beth’s suffering, and that included eradicating her memories of him. For that’s what the Old Ones would do once she was safe. He would not have one moment of her precious life spent pining for him. He would pine until they were reunited, if they were reunited, an insufferable sixty–three years hence.

Calum steadied himself. “I am ready.”

Finn’s golden eyes flashed pleasure. “Good. For Bethia’s freedom, this is what you will do.”

Beth pulled herself awake through a hazy dream thinking it strange she’d fallen asleep so early in the evening. Blinking away the blurriness that coated her vision, she focused on yellowed, water–stained tiles covering a low ceiling. Instead of wood smoke, the smell of mildew stung her nose as if it’d been raining inside the four walls. Sprawled upon a bed, she craned her neck backwards to see her hands were tied to the headboard. Her immediate reaction was to yank at her bonds and scream.

“Go ahead, scream.” It was Matthew. The voice was familiar. The cruel mocking tone was not. “No one will hear you. Not for miles.”

She stopped. Screaming wasn’t doing anything other than tearing her throat. She focused on Matthew who leaned against an ancient refrigerator alongside a short counter in what appeared to be a one–room hunting cabin presided over by an antler head tacked to the wall.

“Untie me, Matthew!”

Matthew gazed at her with cold impatience cloaking what used to be gorgeous dark eyes. He stalked to the side of the bed. She pulled back as far as she could, which wasn’t nearly far enough.

“I wasn’t expecting you to wake up,” he said. “But then again, narcotics aren’t my specialty. Bruce said it would knock you out, but he didn’t have time to expand.”

“What?” Her head felt shipwrecked. The last thing she remembered was … Calum chopping wood, they argued, she used the crimson key and …

“How did I get here?”

“You’re suffering retrograde amnesia. Do you remember learning about that in Psych 101? The drug is from the same family as a date–rape drug — messes up the short–term memory for a few minutes — a side effect, Beth.”

“A side effect? You’re frickin’ insane. What are you doing with a date–rape drug?”

“You can get all sorts of nasty things off the Internet these days.”

Beth’s retort wedged in her throat. The fog in her head lifted, and her attention fixed on something she’d not noticed before. Her stomach convulsed. She was not alone on the bed. The screaming took her again.

“Shut up!” The razor sharpness of Matthew’s voice shocked her enough to still her scream, but not the shudder that rattled her bones.

“M-M-Matthew? What have you done?” Sprawled on the bed next to her, Bruce Hopkins was equally restrained, but that’s where the similarity ended. Cadaverous eyes fixed blankly on the rafters overhead. A white bandage bridged his nose, and he was naked — a sight that debased the dead man.

“I got you a bed partner. Sorry he’s not as lively as what you’re used to. No, Bruce didn’t satisfy you at all — so you killed him.
Tsk
, Beth.” Matthew shook his long, elegant gloved finger at her as if she were an errant child. A noise of distaste erupted from his throat. His eyes were perilous like a man gone off the deep end, so inconsistent from the Matthew she knew, she couldn’t fathom it.

“You killed Bruce?” This couldn’t be real. It was time for the guy behind the camera to pop out and say, “Ha! We got ya, Beth Stewart.” And then Beth would give a shaky laugh and say, “Oh come on, you didn’t fool me. You TV people went way overboard. It was too crazy to be real.” And that would all happen any time now.

But the guy behind the camera stayed hidden, and Matthew kept playing the illusory, lunatic character.

“You remember Bruce’s peanut allergy. It was terrible luck his EpiPen was empty, don’t you think? He couldn’t imagine how that happened.” Matthew’s smile was empty. “We got in the car, but I was so distraught by his impending death, I took a wrong turn and got lost on the way to the hospital. Bruce couldn’t navigate. He was too distracted by his throat suffocating the life out of him.”

Beth now understood the look of horror on Bruce’s ghastly face. It mimicked hers.

“You dumped his medication and fed him peanuts?”

“Yes, Beth, but the police will find your fingerprints on the pen. This is how it will look: You and Bruce were lovers behind my back working together to steal a vast sum of money from your Meals on the Move folks. But you got greedy wanting it all for yourself. He didn’t taste the ground peanuts in the chili
you
fed him, sidetracked as he was. Who knew what kinky games you and Bruce liked to play — securing him to the bed so he’d not escape your kiss of death. But Bruce took you by surprise. He got hold of you, and you didn’t make it — suffocation. Sorry, Beth.”

Okay, this was becoming a bit much. “No one will believe that, Matthew. It’s crazy!” She yelled that last part as if he might believe it at higher decibels. “You’re not a killer, for God’s sake.” But she was still thinking Matthew: lawyer, tennis player, goal–setter, enjoys Thai food and walks on the beach.

“It’s your own fault, Beth. What did you think I was going to do? You ran away with your lover. You have one chance to save your life. Give me back the flash drive and I’ll let you go.”

Flash drive? She stopped herself short of blurting out, what flash drive? Her mind was a mess. “You expect me to think clearly with drugs in my system?”

“You don’t need to think, just tell me where it is.”

“I’ll tell you nothing until you untie me.” If there had been a flash drive in the backpack, it must have been with the money since both she and Calum had searched the backpack and found nothing.

Matthew crossed the room to the window, pulled back the brown–checked drape and peered out. “You have two minutes to think.”

She wouldn’t send him to Janine Miller. A muscle in her arm cramped. She bit back the pain. A story. She needed a reasonable story. The cramp tightened. Digging her heels into the bed, she braced and pulled back away from the bed frame as hard as she could, but gained no ground. Damn! Duct tape. That bloody stuff worked on everything.

No denying the tape was authentic, but Matthew the killer? That couldn’t be real. When you were not in the real world there was only one thing to do. “Finn!”

Matthew turned back to face her. “Be quiet, Beth. Your lover’s not going to save you this time.” He crossed the room in four steps. The quiet tone he used unsettled her more than if he’d yelled.

Beth shot her leg out and kicked hard, slamming into his thigh. The impact knocked him into the wall beside the bed. He looked down at his thigh and then lifted his head and pierced her with eyes aghast. If he thought she was going down without a fight, he truly was deranged. She wiggled her bum back tight to the headboard and braced herself for his retaliation. Fists clenched, he looked ready to strike, but he didn’t move.

“I guess I wasn’t rough enough for you.” He straightened his back. “Is that what you wanted, Beth? Does the mountain man force you into submission? Did he force you to steal my flash drive, sweetheart?” The naked light from the bulb overhead grotesquely emphasized the dark shadows under his red–veined eyes.
Keep him talking.
Give Finn a chance to save the day. She called out to the elf character again, but silently this time.

“I didn’t steal your flash drive. I told you what happened back in Ashbury. Bruce attacked me in my kitchen. I was scared so I ran.” A sick thought suddenly turned her stomach. “You told Bruce I’d found the backpack, didn’t you? That’s why he ransacked the house and threatened me.” Had Matthew ever cared about her? On the flip side, Calum had crossed worlds to save her from a menace he hardly understood.

Matthew scoffed. “You think I believe that? You needed someone to break the encryption, for leverage, for blackmail.”