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He gently eases me onto my side and spoons his body around me. A muscular arm slides over my shoulder until his hand finds mine. We hold tight with the need we share—to be close. For reassurance? Banishment of fear?
The pulse in his wrist thumps against my skin.
Not-a-Faerie.
Not-a-ghost.
Sion is a fánaí, wanderer, Veil guide. St. Augustine pushed me to the limits in the unseen belief department, but I can’t discount what the last few hours have shown me. I’ve stepped beyond the fantastic.
Sion’s voice is as tight as his grip. “I couldn’t send her on without you, my blessed Eala. The merciless unknowing over the fate of her son would have consumed her soul forever.” He abruptly shifts onto his back, not letting go of my hand. I hear the thump thump thump as he pounds his chest with his free hand. “I’m reckless and blind.”
I squeeze our joined hands. “If it weren’t for you and Pwyll, Alaina Kennedy would not be saved. You’ve done the groundwork. I merely sharpened your focus.”
“The lad’s last letter to his folks arrived after the bloody chapel murders. Stories of the O’Carroll’s treachery and malice have always driven me to avoid that particular night. The thought of experiencing the agony of so many souls ripped from life was more than I could bear. My cowardice nearly cost Alaina Kennedy her eternity.” He stares at the moon.
“Did the timing of the letter lead you to believe he survived the murders?”
He nods.
My heart aches for Sion, Matthew, and Alaina. “All the time you spent looking—he was already gone.” I roll onto my side to face him, tugging at his shoulder until he turns toward me. Carefully, I gather him close until there’s no space between us as he trembles. My heartbeat reteaches his how to beat at a steady pace.
Our lips are inches apart. Lips that kissed once. Will they kiss again?
“Thank you, my Eala bán.” He pinches one of my flyaway strands of hair, sliding his fingers all the way to the end before he hands it off to the breeze. “’Twas your presence with me in the Veil steering us to the right time.”
The gravity of a crossroads moment presses down on me. If I want to end the continuation of this bizarre trek, the time is now before I’m in any deeper. I took that first step with him and saved Alaina. It’s well within my rights of our bargain to demand we search for Máthair, and then I’ll never travel into danger again.
The Veil Sprites inside me rage with disapproval, sending tiny shocks against my bones. How strange to be a part of the stories I teach of the Daoine Sidhe and Finnbheara, King of the Connacht Fae, known for his penchant for mortal women and enigmatic trickery. There’s a wonder and a horror to it. Even though escape is tempting, the idea of turning my back on Sion and the souls steals my breath.
He stares at my mouth. “When you push your lips out, are you pouting or checking the way of the wind?” Sion braces himself on an elbow, separating our bodies ever so slightly.
I fight the urge to throw my leg over his hip and pull him back to me.
His smirky smile returns. “I hope it’s blowing favorably in my direction.”
I gaze into his vibrant eyes as languid want settles over me, longing for those wanderer’s lips to meet mine again. “Heading that way.” I’m acutely aware of our proximity to each other and the possibilities it presents. My hand slides up the side of his face, learning the softness of skin beneath the stubble. I lean in to dot a kiss on his cheek and linger, wondering if I should cross the small distance to the lips I’ve just begun to know.
I remember listening to a colleague describe the overwhelming need to make love with her husband after they walked away from a terrible car accident. Is that what I’m feeling for Sion right now—survivor’s passion?
A hundred simultaneous surges of heat flash through my body. It’s so intense, I cry out. Damn the Veil Sprites. I can’t tell if my new internal passengers were vehemently in favor or opposed to the idea of a kiss.
Sion clutches my shoulder. “Are you all right, love?”
I lay a hand over my heart. “How do I get the Veil Sprites to take it down a notch?”
He laughs. “They aren’t a bit shy over sharing their opinions.”
I decide to interpret their message as a rush for saving Alaina Kennedy. Their fiery presence flows inside me like a pool of molten goodness.
I nudge Sion. “Are they inside you?”
He scoffs. “I need no reminder that I’m well acquainted with the Veil.”
I may not fully comprehend the power of what I’m meant to do, but I do know I’m not ready to abandon it. Not ready to abandon Sionnach Loho.
Above us, clouds stretch into a feathery dome. Two distinct streaks of light travel side by side along their lower edge. I read the sky as a sign of encouragement, which opens a floodgate inside me, and I’m suddenly ravenous to understand this new part of me, this calling. There won’t be much time for questions before the soulfall begins again, and I need to cocoon inside my arms.
“Are we in the Veil now?”
