Who was she kidding?
It wasn’t hard, it was damned impossible.
“Why?” she asked anyone in the cosmos who would listen. “Why did Jason come looking for me? Why wasn’t I strong enough to tell him no? Why couldn’t Phelan have found me earlier? Why do I have to be his enemy?”
Aisley mentally shook herself. There was no use fighting the inevitable. She was ready to die. Wasn’t she?
Sadly, the answer to that was no. She’d found something good with Phelan, and she wasn’t ready for it to end. Eternity wouldn’t be long enough in his arms.
He was a true hero.
And she was the enemy he would vanquish to save the world.
Because whatever she might think of herself, Phelan had the right answer in killing all
Whenever they succeeded in killing Jason—and they would eventually—someone else would take his place. It might take months or even years, but it would happen.
Aisley loved being a Druid. She enjoyed the feel of her magic, even that smidgen she’d had, race within her veins. Becoming
No longer did her magic give her joy. She could feel the evil inside her, feel it infest her magic and turn it from pure to something grotesque and corrupt.
She finished her shower and shut off the water. As she toweled off, she thought the house seemed quiet, but she assumed Phelan was outside.
With the towel wrapped around her, she stood in front of the mirror, but couldn’t make herself look at her reflection. The anger Phelan would feel when she told him—she deserved a thousand times over.
He had been betrayed again. She might have had a good reason for doing it, but it didn’t matter. A treachery was a treachery no matter what kind of spin was put on it.
Aisley swallowed and made her eyes lift to look in the mirror. She hated what stared back at her. While she combed her hair, she looked anywhere but directly into her own eyes.
Her hand shook by the time she set down the comb. She hurried out of the bathroom to find some clothes. Aisley put on the first thing she found, which was a pair of yoga pants and a thin, oversized sweatshirt she had cut the neck out of.
After all, it didn’t really matter what she wore for her death, did it?
“Phelan,” she called when she walked out of the bedroom.
There was no answer.
Aisley looked all over the house, and then searched outside. Only when she happened to glance at the shed and saw his Ducati gone did she realize he’d left.
It must have been an important phone call. She’d gotten a reprieve, but one she wasn’t happy about. Aisley feared that by the time Phelan returned she would lose her nerve.
“I’m a damned coward,” she mumbled.
All because she was falling hard for Phelan Stewart. A Warrior, a hero, an amazing lover, and all-around good guy.
“Oh, hell. I’m so screwed. I want him.”
She wanted him so badly it hurt to breathe. Because she wasn’t
Completely, utterly.
Totally.
“Oh, dear God. I love him,” she whispered in shock.
When had that happened? How had that happened? Hadn’t she been guarding her heart?
Phelan was charming and seductive, and somehow he’d snuck past all her defenses. Then she had gone and made everything worse by agreeing to stay with him. That couldn’t happen now. She had to leave.
She could run out into the woods, but he’d find her since not only did he know the forest, but he could follow her magic. She’d end up going in circles since she was directionally challenged.
Still, it was better than staying, and she might have enough time to delve into her magic to learn how to stop Jason for good.
Aisley ran into the bedroom and began to toss her few meager belongings into her duffle. She jammed her feet into her tennis shoes, and just as she was reaching for the duffle a shiver of something evil slid over her.
“No,” she said.
She fell to her knees and clutched her head. The voice filled her mind to an earsplitting crescendo as it repeated her name over and over again.
The voice was stronger than before, as if each time it said her name it grew in power.
“Stop it!” Aisley screamed. “Leave me alone!”
This time it seemed the voice whispered right beside her ear. She jerked her head around and saw mist swirling. Dread filled her, freezing her in place.
Was it Jason? Or was it the gray-skinned creatures that she’d barely escaped from?
She had seen how the monsters moved by turning into mist and disappearing. If it was them, it was pointless to use magic. That would only make them attack her sooner.
Aisley watched as the mist grew thicker and thicker. She knew without a doubt that whatever appeared out of the mist was there to kill her.
She scooted back on her hands and feet until she hit a wall. The mist began to fill the room, creeping closer and closer to her.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-THREE
Trepidation and restlessness settled in Phelan’s chest after his phone call with Fallon. Phelan gunned the Ducati as he drove faster, hoping that somehow the speed would dissolve the worry over Charon from his chest.
He put on the brake as he came up behind a car. Phelan saw the Slow Now sign, but the driver didn’t heed it as they reached the almost 90-degree turn.
They were either locals or tourists. The sudden brakes flaring and the car’s skidding of tires told Phelan they were tourists.
He had to come to a stop and waited for them to take the turn at a turtle’s pace. Phelan glanced ahead and saw he had a small portion of road in which to go around them.
It wasn’t something he would chance in a car, but he wasn’t in a car. He was on the Ducati.
Phelan revved the motorbike and squealed his tires before he raced around them. He easily cleared them and got back into his lane right before he saw the Yield sign as he came to the one-lane stone bridge.
He often heard tourists complain about the bridges, but few of them realized they had been built when people used carriages. The bridges were wide enough for one carriage to cross at a time.
When Phelan had gone another ten miles he pulled off the main road onto a dirt road. As soon as he found a good spot, he pulled into the grass and shut off the motorbike.
It wasn’t that he couldn’t sense Druid magic from his bike, but sometimes being on the Ducati when he was searching for someone made things more difficult. It was better if he did his search on foot.
Phelan put the kickstand down and got off the bike. He removed the helmet and placed it on the seat. Just as he turned he spotted a pine marten on a nearby log.
The animal made him think of Charon and how one night they’d had too much to drink and raced to see who
