Chapter 31
A loud, ringing noise clamped like angry bands of bees around Griffin’s head. His vision blurred, and his pulse swished like someone rubbing sandpaper against his face.
Sweat trickled down the raw skin of his face and dropped onto the cheek of a woman staring upat him. She was the express image of a beautiful Irish woman, with large green eyes, dark-copper hair, a milky complexion, and ruddy, red lips. There was something strangely familiar about her, and even though he was holding a knife above her, she didn’t seem frightened.
He worked to recite the lines he’d been told. He needed her blood. It was his job. His duty. Everything he’d been waitingfor. Thousands of years. Ireland.
The voices zipped through him, so real he almost turned around. His grandfather. His father. His buddies. All chanting.
“Bring Brigid back. Bring Brigid back.”
Had he said that out loud?
“Griffin, I’m back. I’m your Brigid.” the woman said, her voice swaying in a seductive lilt. “Don’t you recognize me?”
Was this a trick question?The woman didn’t look remotely like Brigid. She was dressed in black feathers, with a tiara of black thorns, and bits of coal spiking through the waves of her hair.
Another drop of sweat dripped over her visage, but she didn’t blink.
The knife shook in his hand, quivering to slash at her neck and finish the job. The problem was, he had no clue what Brigid was supposed to look like.
“Griffin, put the knife down and let us talk,” the woman said. “I’m your friend. Believe me. I care about you. You had a seizure, and you’re disoriented.”
“I know exactly who I am,” he said. “I’m Griffin Gallagher, Guardian of the Stone.”
“Yes, you are,” the woman dressed in black said. “I am your Brigid. I know you remember me. We spent many lives together. Surely, you knowthat.”
“If you’re Brigid, prove it.” He lowered the knife and placed it near her throat, figuring fear would compel her to tell the truth.
He couldn’t let anyone know how confused he was. Never. To show that would undo him and his family. He was in control, and he would show the world his mettle.
“Tee hee, tee, hee, tsee-hee-he-hee,” the woman’s voice warbled like a tiny bird.She lifted her fingers and stroked his face, lingering at the hollow under his jaw, tickling him. “Do you hear the fairy night songs? The tiny chime, the harp strings tinkling, and the pitter patter of dancing feet? The fluttering of wings and the trickling of water over smooth, shiny pebbles?”
He didn’t want to admit he heard nothing but the rusty grate of his pulse and the dull thud ofhis heart.
“I hear something,” he muttered.
“It’ll help if you close your eyes,” she said. “Relax your muscles. Lie down next to me and put your hand on my side. Feel the rhythm of my breathing and calm your heart.”
“If I close my eyes, how do I know you won’t fly away, little fairy. You’re full of tricks, and you steal men’s souls.”
“I would never steal yours, GriffinGallagher. Yours is too big and strong to fritter away. It’s solid like an immense boulder, immovable and vast, as large as a planet, hard, dense, and yet so full of light.” Her voice was as soothing as cool mist over a raw sunburn.
“I won’t close my eyes,” he said. “But I will lie down next to you and listen. You say you’re my friend. Tell me why I should believe you.”
He set theedge of the knife over her shoulder and held onto it lightly. He wouldn’t let his guard down, but at the same time, he was curious.
Besides, the thought of harming a creature who wasn’t fighting him seemed unfair. Had the other voices really meant for him to shed her blood? Was there a way to do it without cutting her?
He didn’t dare look around, but he couldn’t help noticing a skeletonwearing a torn and tattered bridal gown lying behind the black-feathered creature. The skeleton’s wig was half-off her skull, and a sparkling tiara lay on the pillow.
Was that another sacrifice that hadn’t worked out? If so, he’d better tread carefully. Not kill anyone until he knew the score for sure.
The spritely woman touched his lips and smiled. “Let everything go. There is nopast. No future. No time. Be in the moment. Make this moment count. Calm your mind and draw it out.”
How could he possibly be calm when he had less than fifteen minutes to complete his destiny? To do the only destiny he and his family had guarded? Why was she telling him to draw out the moment, when time was so precious?
“Oohhhahhhhh…” she hummed. “Ooohhhaaaah, ahhh, oooh…”
