My mouth dropped open. “But… how? I thought only Watchers could become Sentinels.”
“The blood of the angels flows through this one, by virtue of his father.” The angel drew closer to Brodie, whose convulsions were growing worse. “It will be done.”
What? Brodie was half-Watcher? My mind spun from the implications, but there was no time to ponder them. “Fine.” I gripped Brodie’s hand, as much for my own comfort as his. “Do it, then. Please.”
The angel reformed back into a glowing orb of light and drifted over to Brodie. It hovered above him for just a moment, then disappeared into his chest. Brodie’s back arched, his mouth opening in a silent scream as the golden light engulfed him. I had to squint my eyes against the brilliance to keep from going blind, but I kept hold of his hand, refusing to abandon him. He had stayed with me through thick and thin, despite my bullheaded attitude and the stupid mistakes I’d made. I would do the same for him, no matter how he felt about me. Because I loved him.
After a few moments, the glow finally faded away. I opened my eyes, then sighed in relief. The black veins had disappeared, and Brodie’s skin had returned to its normal, sun-kissed glow.
“Lass?” Brodie opened his eyes, sounding dazed. He blinked a few times, confusion swimming in those gorgeous green orbs. “What happened? Why is my chest burning?”
“It’s a long story,” I said, cupping his face in my hands as joy overflowed in my heart. Tears stung my eyes, blurring Brodie’s face. “You were saved by an angel. We all were. Lucas is dead.” I’d double check, but there was no way he’d survived that knife to the throat. He was gone. Relief and sadness swelled inside my chest all at once, and I took in a shuddering breath to steady myself. God, was it finally over?
“Saved, eh?” Brodie pushed himself into a seated position, a grin spreading across his face. But then he slapped a hand to his chest, grimacing in pain. “Bloody hell, this hurts,” he complained, pulling up his shirt. He froze at the sight of the angel brand on his chest. A pair of silver wings, emblazoned beneath his collarbone. Just like mine.
“What in Gaia’s name is this?” he whispered, sounding horrified.
“It’s… it’s an angel brand.” My stomach plummeted at his reaction. God, I hadn’t thought about how Brodie would feel about this. I’d just been concerned with saving his life. “You were dying, Brodie. It was the only way to save you.”
“By making me into a bleeding Sentinel?” Brodie jumped to his feet and began pacing. His shirt dropped back down, mercifully covering the offending brand. “Lass, how is this even possible?”
“The angel said your father was a Watcher.” Slowly, I rose to my feet. “He said that since you had Sentinel blood in your veins, that he could bless you to drive the poison out of your body.”
Brodie stopped moving, then. He scanned the room, taking in Lucas’s dead body, my mother’s unconscious one, and the pentagram still on the ground. Slowly, he turned back to me. “I’m a bloody fool,” he said, guilt shining in his eyes. “Here I am, all bent out of shape about this, when ye’ve saved my life. I was supposed to protect ye, but ye were the one who ended up protecting me.”
“No,” I said firmly, closing the distance between us. “If you hadn’t come into my life when you did, if you hadn’t knocked sense into me and forced me to confront who I truly was, I never would have been able to defeat Lucas today.” I grabbed Brodie’s face, then pulled him down to me. “I don’t care if you’re a Druid, or a Sentinel, or a goddamn alien, Brodie MacTaggert. You’re my hero.”
I kissed him, finally giving into the hunger, the relentless craving that demanded I claim him. And when Brodie wrapped his arms around me and kissed me back, the last vestiges of horror and grief fell away. There was only him and me, only the sweet burn of love and desire. He swept his tongue inside my mouth, fingers digging into my ass, and I moaned as heat blazed through my veins.
And, of course, that was when the doors flew open, and the reinforcements barged in.
28
Brodie
By the timeI made it back to my quarters, I was strung so tightly I was surprised I hadn’t snapped already. I’d been poked, prodded, and questioned so often that I was surprised I hadn’t sprouted whiskers and grown a rat’s tail. This damned angel brand was going to be the death of me, I was sure of it.
And yet, it explained so many things.
Sighing, I laid back on my mattress, my body so heavy with exhaustion I sank straight into it. I had half a mind to close my eyes, but I stared at the ceiling instead, sorting through my thoughts and emotions. Having half-Watcher blood explained why my connection with Gaia was so much more fraught than it was for the other Druids. It also explained why she’d chosen me to be the lass’s protector, instead of the multitude of Druids who had more power. Gaia saw my path more clearly than I did, and she knew I wasn’t meant to dwell on the border of the Moorlands for the rest of my life. She wanted me to connect with the other half of my heritage, too.
Still, I was conflicted about the angel branding on my chest. It covered up a goodly amount of the chest pieces I’d already had inked there, and I wasn’t sure how it would affect my Druid powers. Would it enhance them, or interfere with them? And just what gift had the angel bestowed upon me? Arabella had told me it was Lucas’s angel, and I didn’t know how to feel about that. It hadn’t spoken to me once, and though I could feel its power humming in my brand, I had no idea how it would manifest.
Arabella’s father had been stunned to learn I was a Sentinel. He’d ordered the doctor to run tests and draw blood, and had questioned me at length about my parentage. But I didn’t have anything to tell him—only that my Druid mother had died in childbirth, and my father had abandoned us. I had always thought he was a disgraced Druid. Indeed, that was what I’d been told. But what if he was still alive and I crossed paths with him again? The commander had said he would inform the council of this event—to see what could be done about tracing my family lineage. But, honestly, it all sounded like a huge bother. A very large part of me wanted to sketch a current circle on the ground and go back to the Moors. To live wild and free in the Highlands with Agnid, and forget all about this.
But that would mean leaving the lass behind, and I couldn’t do that.
I licked my lips as I remembered the way she’d kissed me back in the warehouse. Fierce and hungry, with more joy and passion than a woman ever had for me before. And I’d held her tight against me and kissed her back just as hard. By the goddess, she’d tasted so good, felt so right, her bonny curves molded perfectly against my hard, aching body. I would have taken her right against the wall, heedless of the consequences and surroundings, if her father hadn’t burst in with ten other Sentinels to interrupt us.
The look on the commander’s face when he’d beheld his unconscious wife on the floor had been priceless—a mix of stunned surprise, grief, and joy. The doctor had been amongst the rescue team, and once he’d revived the mother, she’d been overcome with happiness and relief to see her daughter safe. Arabella hadn’t left her side for a moment since then, and I couldn’t blame her. She was probably still sitting with her right now. It was a beautiful thing to see the lass finally reunited with her parents, after thinking they’d been dead for so long.
A soft knock pulled me from my thoughts, and I glanced toward the door with a scowl. “Come in,” I called, sure it was going to be someone else with questions for me.
The door opened, and I sat up in surprise as Arabella entered. “Lass,” I said as she shut the door behind her. “What are ye doing here?”
“I’m here to finish what we started.” She approached the bed with sure, confident steps, her hips swinging in that mesmerizing way. My mouth went dry as she reached for the hem of her shirt—she’d washed and changed into fresh clothes, a skin-tight tank top that clung to her curves, along with a pair of black sweatpants that hung low on the tempting swell of her hips.
“Wait.” I swung my legs over the side of the bed and settled my hands on those hips before she could pull the shirt up. “We should talk first.”
