Highland Shapeshifter (18 page)

Lenore cupped her hands around her grandmother’s elbows. “But you can get to them—us— tell them—us—what they need to do.”

Sorrow deepened the fine wrinkles in her grandmother’s face and Lenore understood. “You already did. That’s how you knew to find us when the Sifts first attacked us. Because of now. Gabe never called you, did he? Why? Why didn’t you tell us more? We could have—”

Which was confusing since none of that had happened yet for Grandma.

The elevator doors whooshed open into the penthouse suite.

No one moved.

“Lenore, luv.” The heavy Scottish brogue deepened with Judith’s emotions. “I told you…” She smiled sadly. “Will tell you exactly what you need to hear. Everything has happened the way it should.” Her hand dropped from Lenore’s shoulder to take Col’s wrist. “You have to trust fate. Your sister Edeen taught me that. Col Limont, you aren’t finished here. You and my granddaughter have much yet to do.” Her hand slipped up to his heart. “I feel it here. I know it.” She turned to Lenore. “So come inside the hotel suite, remain here until your other selves catch up. Please.”

Grandma stepped into the suite, looking back, her posture imploring them to follow.

The three took tentative steps and a tall figure came out of an adjoining room.

“Grandpa,” Lenore cried, suddenly overcome with the enormity of it all, but somehow with her grandfather being there, it would all end up okay. He always made the impossible possible. In two strides he enfolded her in his arms. “There, there, sweetheart, everything’s all right. It’s a trying day you’ve had, but all will work out, I promise.” He lifted his head and nodded. “Col. Luke.” He greeted them as though they already met.

Lenore pulled back, questioning.

Grandpa smiled kindly and looked back over his shoulder where another Col, another Luke, and herself walked into the room.

“Just let it happen,” Grandpa coaxed. “Don’t fight it, luv.”

Lenore stared at herself. She, she was the other Lenore, catching up to her future self. Everything had already happened.

A great tugging pulled her forward as though a string were attached to her stomach, though she swore she wasn’t moving.

Her entire body tingled. A loud hum throbbed through her head and memory after memory—things that hadn’t happened for her yet—at least to this part of her. All of it in the penthouse suite. Grandma healing her burns, easing the pain in her throat. Luke prowling the suite like a caged lion. She and Col sitting beneath the starry sky, side by side on the balcony, backs to the railing, legs drawn up, hands and arms interlocked. Making vows. Tender kisses in the rain twenty stories above the Seattle streets, her senses on fire in an altogether different manner.

The next thing Lenore knew, she was across the room, crouched on the floor, hands curled into the plush white carpeting and staring into the dearest face she’d ever known.

His palms sank into her hair. “Oh gods, Lenore,” he whispered, and kissed her, pulling her to him. He was sweet and possessive, tender and warm and the kiss was so damn sexy and mind-shattering, this time she knew she heard bagpipes and smelled blossoming heather and her senses were going to explode with how badly she wanted the Highlander and if it was possible for her essence to truly crawl inside of Col, she’d dive right through his chest.
  

He was hers and she was Cols, their souls and essences truly joined.

“Ah peachy, they’re at it again,” Luke’s voice was a tinny irritant miles away. “Three days sharing a suite with this lovefest. Poke me, I’m done. Our Humpty-Dumpty selves are back together again. Can I get my own suite now?”

“Leave them be,” Grandpa said. “They’re entitled.”

“I’m entitled. We’re all entitled,” Luke groused. “I need a drink.”

Lenore and Col pulled back, grinning, foreheads resting together. Luke was so much fun. Memories of the last few days and what a miracle it was to touch and kiss Col whenever she wanted and simply snuggle close and hold his hand while watching TV, while poor bored Luke sat around as a third wheel, tumbled through her brain.

“Welcome back,” Grandma smiled.

Grandpa was tugging Luke up from where he kneeled on the floor. “About that job offer we discussed… You remember that, right?”

Luke nodded.

“Good. Just making sure all memories have settled together. We can go over it again if you like. My department has a keen use for someone of your knowledge.” Knowledge of the future. They’d talked of it at lengths. Grandpa’s associates were going nuts over all the information and new technologies Luke knew.

“I got it. It’s all right here.” Luke tapped his head and waved her grandfather off, crossing to the mini bar in search of that drink.

Lenore looked toward the elevator doors where she had just been a moment ago. Days ago, she guessed. She shook her head. Wow. Merging with oneself was a sensation she wouldn’t soon forget.

She was clean. In different clothes. Her burns healed and memories intact that still had the haziness of dreams, though she remembered going through them, going through it all.

The rain pattered across the balcony, splashing back on their bare toes where they sat side-by-side against the sliding door beneath the awning. Lenore didn’t want to move, didn’t want to get out of the rain or relinquish this quiet haven above the streets where it was just her and Col, no monsters, no urgent demands to run off and save the world. Just them, quiet and together. Truly together. He took her hand within his. She leaned her head against his arm and they watched the slanting rain and waited for their lives to catch up so they could start a new one.

Col stared at their joined hands, sharing her wonder and her sorrow, even with the sorrow and fear of his own, but he reassured her.
 
“Charity will come back and when she does, we’ll be here for her. For her and her son.”

Throat tight and heart breaking, Lenore nodded against his arm. He couldn’t possibly know what that meant to her.

His gaze shifted to the floor, finally speaking what he most feared. It had been in both their minds. “Bekah will kill Shaw,” he confessed his fear out loud.

Lifting her face to him, Lenore cupped his cheek, loving him more than she thought it was possible to love anyone, so grateful he was here with her, and hurting for him. It hurt so bad. “Trust in fate, Col. Trust in your brother. Trust Shaw.”

The End

Look for adventurous conclusion
Highland Moon Sifter
coming Spring of 2013

Learn more about the Highland Sorcery novels at
http://www.clovercheryl.blogspot.com

Also Available from Clover Autrey

Sea Born

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SEA BORN

The green-tinged water was murkier than usual. Paedra could barely see her hand in front of her face and it disappeared altogether when she stretched out her arm. Where was Daire? She hoped he hadn’t forgotten that she didn’t share his strange ability to retain her bearings within the lake. It was easy enough for him to sense the gruppers so he knew how close he was to the submerged hills they fed in—or to feel the sculpies and flat-heads near the lake’s surface, but she had no such scenes to rely on. She felt a tap on her shoulder and Daire’s face suddenly hovered before her, a sphere of white floating in hazy darkness.

They swam close, with Daire barely edging ahead. Though a strong swimmer herself, Daire still slackened his normal pace so she could keep up. His strong kicks produced rhythmic pulses streaming behind him.

He brushed her arm and pointed. Paedra could see nothing but brackish water and tiny specks of darker plant material floating around them. She followed him into a thicket of swaying vegetation. The water grasses streamed silkily over her shirt. Pushing it aside, she saw the pock-riddled rock just before she ran into it. Several slender gruppers darted from holes and streaked by. They must be at the underwater hills. Daire had brought her here before, though never on a day when the lakefloor was stirred so badly precious little could be seen.

Daire motioned her closer. Paedra paddled over, bumped into Daire’s shoulders, their heads close. Light and dark strands of hair swirled together and Daire playfully elbowed her arm.

With great care, he fanned the water near the small recesses of the rock.

Vivid colors erupted around them. As Daire cupped a rich violet fish in his hands, it startled or frightened others surrounding them. Nearly invisible against the stone background before, spiny coddlefish quickly bared the brightly adorned surfaces of wing-like fins in a riot of flapping hues.

‘Twas wondrous.

Paedra’s pulse beat with the rhythm of their fins. Daire’s eyes lit. When he'd told her about the coddlefish, she’d thought he had spun a honeyed tale. How could she know there was such beauty in the dark lake?

Lifting off the pocked wall like birds from perches, the coddlefish spiraled around them. Daire let the one in his palm flutter away, happiness balancing his pleasant features.

Something in Paedra’s heart tugged.

Having his attention, Paedra patted her throat and pointed up. Daire’s nose scrunched, a sure sign of disappointment, and nodded.

They kicked toward the surface, staying in each other’s sight. Little lights of pleasure sparked in Daire’s eyes, making Paedra’s pulse lose its steady rhythm.

Abruptly, he stopped kicking. His mouth formed a harsh line, and he spun in a tight circle as though looking for something. Almost out of air, Paedra continued her ascent. Daire dropped from view.

A dark shadow moved on the fringes of Paedra’s vision, large and hazy. Then another angled past. Icy fingers trailed along her spine, warning of danger.

A stumped gray snout surged through the cloudy water and came straight at her. The great fish bore her downward, a gibbous snout against her chest. The demon of a fish was as long as a man and much wider.

The water cooled with the descent. Paedra’s lungs seared. Water rushed against her back, trailing behind the fish’s tailfin in an angry, streaming wake.

Stay calm. Stay calm
.
It's just a fish.
Bringing fists together, she slammed down on the wide head. The fish thrashed from side to side then rolled away. Paedra pushed through the water. A fleshy body bumped against her. Again. And again. Another.

Several of the giant fish knocked into her, pinning her between their massive bodies. They stroked by, speared around, and came at her again. They neither bit nor cut. Paedra doubted the tough mouths supported any teeth, but she was drowning just as surely.

As sleek and quick as an otter, Daire burst toward her and plunged his blade into the closest fish. Blood swirled around them. There was a tug on her leg before the cold and the darkness and her straining lungs claimed her.

She came to, choking up water as they broke the surface. A wavelet washed over them. Her head was in the crook of Daire’s arm and she felt a leg thump hers while he treaded water for them both. Fat raindrops splashed in the choppy froth.

“You’re crowdin me.” She flung herself forward and coughed.

“You’re not dead, then?” Daire said in a weak imitation of his usual light tone. His voice was depleted of spark and failed miserably in the pretense that he was not shaken.

Paedra started coughing so fiercely she couldn’t answer. Several long terrible moments passed where she felt as though she’d never get air back into her lungs. Finally the coughs subsided and she breathed deeply. She couldn’t keep from shivering. “How did ye find me?”