“She’s pregnant?” My mind whirred. I studied her closely. She couldn’t be much older than she had been in the last scene I had witnessed. My Chosen One can only conceive if she mates with the High Shaman I fashion for her. Memory of the Goddess’s words whispered through my mind. If she was pregnant it had to be ClanFintan’s child.
But the young ClanFintan had yet to be made a High Shaman. By his own admission he could not perform the Change into human form.
My stomach clenched at what her ripe belly implied.
“Drink, my Goddess.” The hypnotic sound of the words made me blink tears from my eyes and refocus on the scene.
The unmistakable form of Bres had entered the room. He was obviously much younger than the man I’d seen recently. I was surprised to note that his lean body held a kind of sculpted elegance. I could imagine him being used as a model for Calvin Klein in those black-and-white photos that show seminaked people lounging on a beach.
Guess he didn’t age well. How tragic.
He held a goblet filled with thick red liquid to Rhiannon’s lips. She drank greedily. I noticed her eyes had a glassy look that suggested she had already done quite a bit of drinking.
Not good for the baby, I thought.
Her head lolled back and Bres moved to the foot of the bier. He put the empty goblet down on a small table that stood next to him. Then he picked up a long, thin, wicked-looking object. It reminded me of a crochet hook, only it was longer and the top of the hook had been carved into a barbed point. He turned to face Rhiannon’s feet, which were about chest level with him.
“Now you must come to me, my Goddess.”
Without speaking, Rhiannon scooted down toward him while she bent her knees and spread her naked legs.
It looked like she was getting ready for a bizarre Pap test.
With leather thongs that I had not noticed before, Bres tied her ankles in place. I could see that Rhiannon’s hands were gripping the edge of the mat so tightly that her knuckles were white.
Rhiannon’s legs had fallen open, and her sex was clearly visible, as was the soft mound of her belly. For a moment Bres’s unnaturally bright eyes studied her exposed body, then with one hand he spread open her labia. With his other hand he inserted the evil-looking instrument deeply into her vagina.
Rhiannon’s body tensed and jerked spasmodically. At the same instant the candles began to flicker wildly, like a vengeful Goddess had just loosed a breath of warning.
“No!” Rhiannon screamed, spittle flying from her pale lips. “I will not be used! I will choose! I will choose!”
As her tirade ended, Bres jabbed the hooked barb far within her writhing body, and in one swift motion he twisted and pulled it back out. With it came a gush of clear liquid tinged with blood. Quickly he wiped his hands clean on his thick robe and moved to the head of the bier.
“Now you will expel it.” Gently he wiped tears and sweat from her face. She buried her shaking head in the curve of his arm. “The juice of the poppy will ease your pain. It will be finished soon.”
The scene rippled and faded into night sky.
Tears were streaming unheeded down my ghostly cheeks. “But you said she couldn’t get pregnant unless it was by a High Shaman. ClanFintan wasn’t a High Shaman yet. He couldn’t even change into human form.”
A High Shaman is not made, Beloved, he is born. As such, ClanFintan was a High Shaman from his first breaths.
“She killed his baby,” I said in disbelief.
As she orchestrated the death of the child, so too died her ability to feel compassion or mercy for others. Ruthlessness and self-indulgence consumed her, and I was compelled to sever the link between us. Soon guilt destroyed anything else left of good within her. And in place of that good, true evil began to take hold.
“So she really isn’t Your Chosen.” I still felt shaky and nauseous.
I withdrew my favor, thus allowing her to exchange herself for you, my Beloved.
“Then why did you let me get pulled back to Oklahoma. Why am I not still in Partholon where I belong?”
Rhiannon and the darkness she dallies with must be stopped. I cannot allow her to loose Nuada’s evil upon your old world.
The night sky rippled again, then split and opened to expose the frigid blackness of the time portal.
“Please tell me how to get rid of Nuada and stop Rhiannon.” I felt panicky as my soul started to move to the tunnel.
When the time comes you will know, Beloved. Remember that Rhiannon has lived her life filled with a hatred of her own making, so hatred cannot vanquish her.
“I don’t understand, Epona! What does that mean?” My voice sounded shrill.
Think of what you have witnessed this night. With knowledge comes wisdom and power.
My spirit body was sucked into the dark tunnel. This time I squeezed my eyes shut and held my terror in check. It will end soon it will end soon it will end soon was the mantra that kept going through my mind.
And I was spit out into the snow-filled sky above Clint’s cabin. I opened my eyes as I drifted softly down through the ceiling of the cabin and hovered silently above the bed. My body was still curled on its side, and I appeared to be sleeping contentedly. Clint lay next to me, still dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. He was above the covers, so our bodies weren’t touching and he had pulled a quilt over himself. His eyes were closed and he was breathing deeply. My heart did a ridiculous little flip-flop at the sight of him.
Allow yourself to love him tonight, Beloved. The Goddess’s voice was back in my mind.
“But I’m married to ClanFintan,” I said inanely.
He is the mirror of your mate, Beloved. He, too, was born to love you.
“But—”
He needs you, My Chosen One…
The Goddess’s words blew from my mind.
CHAPTER 2
I opened my eyes. The fire had burned down to a warm glow. I studied it and thought about Epona’s words. It didn’t take me long to make my decision.
And I rolled over to face Clint.
At my movement his eyes opened in concern.
“What?” he asked, starting to sit up.
“Shush.” I reached out and touched his arm. “Everything’s fine.”
He lay back down, running his hands over his eyes in his habitual waking gesture. “Another dream thing?”
“Kind of—this time I saw the past.”
“What do you mean?” He was fully awake now, and he rolled onto his side to face me.
I grinned at his expression. “It’s pretty bizarre, isn’t it?”
Clint smiled and tapped me on the end of the nose in a gesture that mirrored ClanFintan completely. “It does take some getting used to, but I think we manage. What did you see this time?”
“The Goddess showed me Rhiannon’s past. I don’t think Epona did it to excuse Rhiannon’s behavior. I think she did it so that I could understand her better.”
“And do you?”
“Yes,” I said thoughtfully. “And I feel sorry for her.”
His eyes widened in surprise. “Really?”
I nodded. “It could have been me. Change my upbringing and I think I might have become what she has become.” I laughed without feeling any humor. “It’s actually a little scary.”
He pushed a curl back from my face. “But you didn’t become what she is.”
“No, but don’t judge her too harshly, Clint. She’s much more like me than either of us would have guessed. You have to realize that at one time she was just a kid, a scared kid not prepared to handle what happened to her.”
He snorted a very ClanFintan-like sound through his nose.
I touched his cheek gently, allowing my hand to rest against the rough skin of his day-old beard. Something within me prompted me to say, “Promise me that you’ll remember to pity her.”
He looked a long time into my eyes. “I promise.” he said softly.
Without stopping to think about what I was doing, I leaned
forward and kissed him lightly on the lips. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” His voice had gone deep and his body was suddenly still. I didn’t pull away from him, and our faces were very close.
Again, I leaned forward and kissed him; this time I lingered. He made no move to deepen the kiss, but he parted his lips and let me explore his mouth at my leisure.
“I like the way you taste,” I whispered against his lips.
“Shannon my girl…” The endearment was a moan as I rolled against him, pushing the thick layer of covers down so that I could fit my body to his.
Our legs were entwined, and I loved the way my bare flesh felt against the heat and roughness of his jeans. My hands slipped under his T-shirt and I leaned into our next kiss so I could explore the ridges of his back. My fingers found the long scar that ran almost the length of his back. Consciously I pulled energy from within me and let it snake out through my fingertips, willing pain away from him. I felt the rush of warmth as an erotic tingling of sensation.
In response, Clint’s arms trembled as they wrapped around me and he moaned into my mouth.
“Does that feel good?” I whispered.
“Oh, Goddess—” his voice was shaky and rough “—if only you knew how good.”
I pulled his shirt off and let my lips and tongue roam down his chest to the hard expanse of his belly, all the while running my flaming-hot fingertips lightly along the edge of his skin, stopping whenever I sensed an area of pain or injury.
Finally, my teeth pulled at the button of his jeans, and I looked up into his passion-glazed eyes.
“I think you’re overdressed,” I teased.
“I live to obey you.” He smiled as he quickly divested himself of the rest of his clothes.
“Just one of my faithful minions?” I laughed as I snuggled against his naked body.
“My middle name is Sacrifice,” he murmured as he bent to reclaim my mouth.
I responded to his kiss until the top of my head felt dizzy, then I pushed him back onto the pillows. He looked confused.
“Please let me love you tonight,” I said simply.
“Oh, my sweet girl…” He cupped my face in his hands. “Don’t you know I can refuse you nothing?”
I swallowed back tears, and in answer I moved my mouth down his body.
His breathing was deep and ragged when he pulled me to him. Instead of kissing him, I sat up and slowly pulled his sweatshirt from my body, then I slid my panties down my bare thighs. His eyes were smoldering as he watched me straddle him. Gently, he cupped my heavy breasts in his hands.
“They’re really sensitive right now,” I whispered.
He kissed my enlarged nipples gently. “I’d never hurt you.”
“I know, Clint. I know.” I pulled him against me and wrapped my arms around his broad shoulders.
I began rocking in an ancient rhythm that Clint matched with perfect understanding. As our tempo increased I noticed Clint’s aura begin to glow its jeweled luster. Then the silver of my own aura became clearly visible around me. As we moved toward climax the two auras merged and swelled, causing the feelings that were rippling through my body to suddenly intensify to an almost painful level.
Clint’s eyes shot open and he locked his gaze with mine. His hands found my hips and thrust deep within me, again and again, holding me steady. The night exploded around and within us.
I drifted in and out of sleep circled by the shelter of his arms.
“That’s never happened to me before.” Clint’s voice sounded raw and vulnerable, and wide awake.
I tilted my chin up so I could look into his eyes.
“The thing you did with your fingers,” he continued. “You made the pain go away, but more than that, you…” He shook his head in wonder. “It was…” He traced my lips with his fingertip. “There are no words in any world.”
“And our auras merged.” I hesitated, not really wanting to ask but needing to know the answer. “Did that happen with Rhiannon?”
“No.” Clint’s voice was firm and had a slight edge to it. “None of it happened with Rhiannon. Only you, Shannon. Only you. The things she did to me…” His voice faltered. “She held me with an unnatural, perverse power. It was dark and wrong. I hated myself for wanting her.”
“Shh,” I whispered, pressing my finger against his lips. “It’s over now. That part of your life is over.”
His eyes were bright with unshed tears as he bent and kissed me deeply.
I felt his erection pulse and stir. Slipping my hand between our bodies, I caressed the length of him, loving the sensation of soft skin stretched over hardness.
Then I felt it. The slight indentation of scar tissue running the length of his shaft. I felt myself go cold at the thought of what this scar had to mean. The Chicago park flashed into my disbelieving mind. I saw the glint of light off the sharpened blade, and the crimson drops staining the snow-covered ground.
My eyes flew open in horror to find Clint’s eyes closed in pleasure and peace; a gentle smile curved his lips as a moan escaped from between them.
Heal him, Beloved.
With the whisper of my Goddess’s gentle urging echoing in my mind, I stroked him, willing health and healing and light to pass into him and to chase out the perversity and twisted pleasure and darkness with which Rhiannon had scarred him. In Clint’s healing I found my own joy. Again, I took him inside my body, this time with a deeper gentleness and more complete understanding. I held nothing back from him, and as we made love I felt Epona’s presence as if she was sanctifying our joining. Against my closed lids I could see the magical shimmer of our aura’s pulsing as they merged together, filling the small cabin with light and beauty and the warmth of a goddess’s love.
Much later he held my face within his hands.
“I love you,” he said simply.
I closed my eyes and rested my head on his shoulder. “I love you, too, Clint.” I knew it was the truth. I loved both of them—ClanFintan and Clint. They were two pieces of the same whole. And it broke my heart to think about leaving Clint, just as much as it made me ache with longing for ClanFintan when I thought about being parted forever from him.
Oh, help us, Epona. I breathed a silent prayer into the night.
Sleep, Beloved. The ethereal voice drifted through my mind and I felt submerged in liquid weariness. Through the layers of encroaching sleep, I could feel Clint’s hand trace the same path ClanFintan’s hand had traced innumerable times before. He caressed the length of my body from behind my bent knee, up the back of my thigh, to the small of my back and down. My last conscious thought was that I was no longer going to be surprised at their unerring similarities.
CHAPTER 3
I awakened slowly, and in the first lazy moments of consciousness the entrapping arms that held me spooned against the hard heat of a warm male body confused me.
Then I remembered. Ohhhhh, Clint…
I’m pretty sure I blushed, but embarrassed or not nature would not wait, so I quietly slid out of his arms, found my/his sweatshirt (it was under the bed) and tiptoed across the cold morning floor to use the facilities.
I glanced in the bathroom mirror. I looked disheveled, bed-headed and (quite frankly) well and truly laid. What the hell had happened last night—I mean, besides the obvious? I had touched something deep within Clint, something that cried painfully out to me in its need to be healed. And the mingling of our auras had been utterly amazing. Why had it just happened with us and not with Rhiannon (or, my mind whispered, with ClanFintan and me)?
The Goddess had directed me to love Clint. It was an awe-inspiring thought—that Epona was using me in this world as human balm.
I shook my head at my reflection. I’d just made love, several times, with an incredibly attractive man with whom I had fallen in love because, basically, he was the clone of my husband (who was stuck in another world/dimension). But I wasn’t a divine healer, was I? Wasn’t I still just me? Was anything else bordering
on delusions of grandeur and Rhiannon-like thinking? And shouldn’t I feel guilty? Shouldn’t I go out there and tell Clint I’d made a mistake last night? I am, after all, a married woman.
No. I hated it when friggin women did that kind of morning-after shit. I’ve always wanted to scream at the movie/TV/book/or various messed-up girlfriends, YOU MADE A DECISION, NOW LIVE WITH IT! Please—that’s exactly why I never liked King Arthur’s Guinevere. She screws up (pardon the pun), sleeps with her husband’s best friend, causes the fall of a kingdom, then she doesn’t have the guts to make at least one man happy, so she joins a friggin nunnery and escapes from all of her problems, leaving everyone around her in a slavering mess. How incredibly spineless.
“Well, damnit, I’m not spineless,” I told my mussed reflection. “And Clint needed me. What Rhiannon had broken, Epona let me fix. I won’t be sorry for that, and I won’t second-guess it.”
After my toilette was complete I padded quickly (it was really cold) back to bed. Clint looked young and sexy, with a nearly obscene amount of muscular chest showing amidst our tornado of quilts and comforters.
Well, I may not be as experienced as Rhiannon, but I certainly knew how to awaken a man with a smile. And since I’d decided to love him while I was here, I may as well go all out.
“Oh, God, Shannon. You’re blowing my mind.” Clint’s morning voice was rich with passion.
I wanted to correct him and explain that it wasn’t his mind I was blowing, but my mother had taught me it was impolite to speak when one’s mouth was full…
…Much later I was stretching lazily, and he was nibbling on the side of my neck, which reminded me.
“I’m hungry. Really, really hungry.”
“You’ve certainly worked up the right to an appetite this morning, Shannon my girl.” He kissed me on the forehead and jumped out of bed, pulling on his jeans and shirt. “Why don’t I whip us up a real Oklahoma breakfast while you take a nice hot shower.”