A Shift in the Air Page 6

  Caitlin met Mara’s emerald gaze. “Please. Nothing makes any sense.”

  “I know.”

  When Mara had settled back on the couch, a shadow—pain or sadness perhaps—passed over her face. With a pale hand, she pulled open her robe to reveal a mangled scar between her breasts. “This is a lasting gift from my sister. She wore a crystal similar to yours. You remember that?”

  “A present from her mother. At least that’s what she told me.”

  “She sent a fire charm for Cade—but I got in the way. The fire burned me from the inside out, and my whole world imploded. Everything changed, shifted. I thought she’d kill me.” A small smile tugged at her lips. “But instead, I twisted the fire around and sent the charm back, even stronger. Katerina’s death should have severed our connection—taken her fire back, sent the energy out into the universe or something, but that didn’t happen. I have two elements within me now: my sister’s element and my own.”

  A memory knocked against Caitlin’s battered mind: someone shouting, cursing. Too frightened, she banished the muffled words with a shake of her head and focused instead on Liam’s steady breathing next to her. She reached for his hand, a spark of recognition quickening her heartbeat.

  “Caitlin’s pendant was like Katerina’s?” Liam squeezed her fingers.

  “Yes. I could feel the charm. My sister…she’d learned some witchcraft, I think. The crystal didn’t only contain a charm; she infused the quartz with power. Her power.”

  “She protected me,” Caitlin whispered. “I remember panicking in the hospital in Mexico because I didn’t know where I’d go or how I’d survive. She took me in. I owe her my life. I know you probably hate her, but I loved her like a sister.”

  Cade’s eyes glinted with gold, and he looked away. “Fucking bitch,” he muttered quietly.

  “Misguided bitch might be a better term,” Mara said, rubbing his thigh. “I understand her a lot better now than I did when…I killed her. I can feel her, inside me. Whatever I did to absorb her fire, there’s a part of Katerina that didn’t die.”

  “What the hell?” Liam sat up, and Caitlin could practically taste his panic. Bitter ire followed. “Why didn’t ya say something before?”

  Cade raised a brow. “You haven’t been around much lately. You’re either working or brooding. I haven’t called you on it because Mara’s needed me. She’s sick, Liam.”

  “Shite. Fuck me.”

  “Hello? I’m right here.” Mara snorted. “I’m not sick. Not like I was before. But Katerina’s fire feels wrong. It’s twisting, swirling, like this vicious snake threatening to squeeze the life out of me. I can’t breathe. Every time I use my fire element, it gets worse.”

  “Oh God.” In Caitlin’s mind, Fergus ranted, his hands around her throat.

  “I need more, Catie! Fire and water will end this perpetual torment. Yer air is suffocating me.” He squeezed, and Caitlin clawed at his arms, pinpricks of darkness obscuring his twisted lips, his haunted eyes. Gasping, choking, desperate for air, her body convulsing in his grip, she prayed this time she wouldn’t survive.

  “Caitlin! Look at me!” Fergus’s dark eyes faded into Liam’s bright green and gold orbs. An arm around her back held her close. “Ye’re safe. Shite. What happened?”

  Something fractured, something deeply broken inside of her ached, as if a piece of her had been cut away, the jagged edges aflame, threatening to consume her and leave nothing but ashes. She had to get away. Liam’s proximity threatened to suffocate her. And Cade…he wanted to kill her for what she’d done to him and Mara.

  Caitlin laid her hand on Liam’s chest. “Let me go.” A calm settled over the room, and Mara sighed. Her eyelids fluttered closed, andCade settled back against the cushions next to her.

  Liam groaned. “No.” The slurred protest shook her resolve, but her throat still throbbed from the memory of Fergus’s hands.

  “I’m sorry.” The words paled against the offense of the charm, but he’d be happier without her. Safer. And that alone was worth hurting the only man she thought she might have truly loved.

  ***

  The charm wouldn’t last long. Ten, fifteen minutes at the most. Her element vibrated, the hum of a tuning fork sending waves of influence outward, over Liam, Cade, and Mara. She ran down the tree-lined street and gave thanks that the rain had stopped before she’d left home. Two bus lines crisscrossed the city, intersecting only two blocks from her apartment. She prayed the sixty-six hadn’t ceased for the night.

  Relief steadied her hands when the bus rolled to a stop half a mile from the pack’s house. Low, resonating tones of her element and the charm she’d cast faded, replaced by another, strident chord that raised the hairs on the back of her neck and drilled a headache into her temples.

  The foreign song strengthened, pulling her, urging her somewhere—not here. The burnt crater deep within her rumbled and cracked open. Pain drove her hands over her ears, but the terrible cacophony rose to a fevered pitch, deafening, until suddenly, silence.

  No warning had ever been so clear. Fergus would find her. Hurt her. And whoever dared help her.

  Chapter Seven

  Liam groaned and shook his head, trying to clear the cotton that clouded his thoughts. Across from him, Cade pulled Mara close. “If I ever see that bitch again, she better kill me, or I’m going to—“

  “I feel…better.” Mara took a deep breath, a smile curving her lips. “I’ve never felt normal this quickly after an attack before.”

  Cade cupped her cheeks, staring into her eyes, searching. “How?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe Caitlin. She set the protection stones around the house, drew the runes. Every time the fire’s threatened to suffocate me in the past few months, I think she knew. She’s not a bad person—not really. She’s confused. My sister’s charm messed her up.”

  “Goddammit, Mara. Bella could have killed all three of us, and we wouldn’t have been able to stop her. I don’t trust her, even if she did somehow help you.”

  “She’s not Bella. She’s Caitlin,” Liam said, running his hands through his thick locks. His bruises, scrapes, and cuts ached. If he shifted into his wolf, he’d heal, but right now, he welcomed the pain. He’d failed her. All those years ago and again now. She’d come to him for help, and he’d let her down. The few minutes sitting next to her, holding her hand, brought back all of his long ago hopes and desires.

  “I don’t care.” Cade rose, stalked into the kitchen, and poured a generous splash of whiskey. “Stay away from her, Liam. Consider that an order.”

  Liam flinched, and his wolf railed. The rumble started deep in his chest, exploding in a feral, desperate sound.

  “Back off. You want to be my beta, that’s the price. That bitch helped kidnap Mara. She hurt Mara. The pack comes first. Always.”

  “Ya didn’t say that when ya mated with Mara.”

  Cade threw the glass of whiskey across the room and surged towards Liam. His fist cracked against Liam’s jaw, sending black spots swirling, obscuring Mara’s horrified expression over Cade’s shoulder.

  Liam took the punishment. If he fought back, let his wolf escape, he’d lose his friend, his alpha, and his family. All for a woman who barely remembered him.

  Cade threw him into the love seat where he rolled over the back and landed with a bone jarring crash on his shoulder.

  “Not in the house!” Mara’s sharp words stilled them both. “I get that the moon is messing with both of you, but take it outside.” With a huff, she grabbed a broom and headed for the whiskey-soaked shards. “I liked that glass,” she muttered.

  Cade’s chest heaved. “You don’t disrespect my mate.”

  “Mara, I owe ya an apology.” Liam shoved his hands into his pockets and examined a burled pattern on the hardwood floor. Caitlin’s scent lingered on his skin, and the memory of her touch prickled the hairs on the back of his neck. “But Caitlin’s alone. Ya didn’t know her before—didn’t see her when she ran from me. I didn
’t keep tabs on the bloke who hurt her, but he might still be out there, searchin’ for her. She needs us. Don’t make me choose between ya.”

  “It’s too fucking late for this tonight.” Cade took the broom from Mara and brushed a gentle kiss to her forehead. “Mara’s exhausted. You look like shit, and I need to run. Go home. We’ll talk more about this in the morning. Pack meeting at ten.”

  Thankful for the dismissal, Liam trudged back to the pack’s house and lowered his aching body onto his front stoop, unwilling to face the rest of his pack. He’d seen Christine’s worried face in the hall for a split second before she’d ducked back into her room. Getting between alpha and beta carried risks. The last time the two clashed, Mara’s life hung in the balance. Liam had offered to leave the pack then and had almost lost his brother—a man he also considered his surrogate father—over disrespecting Mara.

  One text message. Then he’d walk away. Or…not. Shite, he needed her like he needed his next breath.

  I’m coming over.

  Fuck. He hadn’t intended that. She’d run away, used her charms to escape him. He had to try one last time. If she rejected him again, he’d give up. He dug out his keys and headed for his bike. One way or another, he’d have his answer tonight.

  ***

  “Caitlin!”

  She dropped the sweater into her suitcase with a yelp when the knock and subsequent shout sounded. Why? Another hour and she’d have been at the bus station, headed somewhere—anywhere but here. The alpha wolf—Bowman—wanted blood, and he had every right to come after her given what she’d done to Mara and the old woman.

  “Please, luv. Let me in. I’ll stay out here all night if I have to, but your neighbors might get tired of me. Give me an hour. If ya want me to leave after that, I will.”

  She snorted. Her neighbors wouldn’t notice if her entire apartment imploded. As long as the police stayed away and their wild parties went on uninterrupted, no one paid her any mind. But the idea of him staying in the hall until morning didn’t sit well either. And deep down inside, she wanted to see him. Needed to see him. Fine.

  “One hour,” she said, pulling the door open and losing her ability to speak entirely. Windblown hair framed his face, and the fresh bruise along his jaw drew her gaze. Before she could stop herself, she reached up, tentatively stroking the swelling, stubble rasping against her fingers. He turned towards the touch and groaned quietly.

  “Caitlin. Shite. I’ve missed ya. Every day for eleven years.”

  Tears pricked at her eyes, and she sucked her lower lip under her teeth. If she tried to speak, she’d ask him to stay, and she couldn’t. Not after what she’d done. Better to run, to deal with whatever came next alone. If she stayed, he’d end up hurt. Or worse. She didn’t know why or how, but the burning pain she carried would consume them both.

  He wrapped her in a desperate embrace, a hand in her hair and another at the small of her back. The tears fell along with great, choking sobs, and he lifted her against him. “Shh, luv. I’ve got ya.” With a gentle kick, he shut her door and guided her over to the couch. “Let it out. Ye’re safe with me.”

  “N-not…s-safe…anywhere,” she managed and pulled away. “I hurt people, Liam. You, Cade, and Mara. The old woman in Bellingham. I compelled you tonight, hoping you wouldn’t forgive me—knowing Cade wouldn’t. And those are just Bella’s sins. What about Caitlin’s? Every time I close my eyes, I see a man—Fergus—and there’s pain and fear and shame, and I don’t know why or how or even where or when.” She swiped at her traitorous tears, unwilling to look at Liam for fear she’d see the one thing she couldn’t stomach—love. She didn’t deserve it, didn’t deserve him. She’d never deserved him.

  A finger hooked under her chin, and he tipped her head up, covering her lips with his. Chaste, compared to the previous night, the kiss held everything she couldn’t ask for: patience, understanding, and protection.

  When he pulled away, she leaned into him, unable to stop herself from wanting more. “Who am I?” The name Caitlin Brannigan felt natural on her tongue, but she’d found precious little about her former life in her few hours of searching.

  “I don’t know who ya are. But I can tell ya a little about who ya were.”

  Liam spoke for almost an hour. Endearing tales of young love, nights spent in the pubs of central Dublin, days walking along the River Liffey, visiting museums, reading in the central library, sampling chocolates at a shop called Baker’s, pints in Temple Bar. Each story brought a hint of a memory, but as soon as she reached out and snared the feeling, she lost her tenuous grip.

  “Our last day,” he said with a sigh, “we were headed to the pub. Ya changed—like a switch flipped.” He recounted as much of the day as he could remember, though eleven years had muddled some of the details. “When ya left, ya compelled me then, too. I spent weeks searchin’ for ya—and Fergus—but ya hid yourself well. Or he did. When I got your letter, I lost myself. Mike—my alpha before Cade—threatened to kick me out of the pack if I didn’t get my head on straight. Took a year. Took meeting Cade for me to want to live again.”

  Shame forced her up, drove her to pace. “Why are you here? If all I ever do is hurt you, why do you want to be around me?”

  “I loved ya, Caitlin. I never told ya until that last day, but I loved ya. I thought—I hoped to mate with ya.”

  Oh shit. No.

  Liam stilled her frantic movements, stroked his hands down her arms. She could lose herself in the heat of him, the delicious kisses, the taut muscles, his scent. He dipped his head and feathered his lips over her jaw, along her neck, and down to her collarbone. “I can’t get enough of ya. Now that I found ya again, I’m going to do whatever I can to protect ya. Can’t ya see that?”

  “You’re mine, Catie. No one can protect you like I can. Can’t ya see that?”

  She sobbed, cowering against the wall, the stale, unmoving air sapping her strength. “I’m sorry. I won’t run again. Ye’re so good to me, why would I ever leave?” The lie rolled easily off her tongue, though she struggled to force the words out of swollen and bloodied lips.

  “I can smell him all over ya. What did he do for ya that I can’t? Did he fuck ya? Tell me how to find him, and I’ll ease yer pain. What’s his name, Catie?”

  The compulsion charm settled over her, urging her to confess everything. But enough of her own power remained to keep Liam safe, and she stared up at the wild eyes, the tufted black hair, and the snarling, twisted face. He’d been handsome once. Kind. The sweet boy still existed within the madman—but she couldn’t find him now. “There’s no one. No one but you.”

  Caitlin jerked back. Fergus’s angry face in her vision faded, leaving only Liam. Her entire body shook, the terror spreading from her heart like wildfire, consuming everything, stealing the air from her lungs. “Please go. I can’t be with you, Liam. Don’t make me compel you.”

  His eyes hardened, and the wolf escaped in a rumble. “Don’t do this. Not again.”

  With a burst of her element, she flung the door wide and pointed to the hall. “You’ve got thirty seconds. I’m not the woman you knew. Not anymore. Caitlin Brannigan died eleven years ago. Go home to your pack, and don’t contact me again.”

  She didn’t watch him go, couldn’t stand to see the pain in his eyes, or risk him turning one last time to plead with her. When the door slammed, shaking the apartment’s thin walls, she sank down to the floor, broken and alone.

  ***

  Bits and pieces of her memories fell into place slowly at first; then a fire hose opened, and she spent hours huddled in her bed, praying for the agony to end. Whatever Katerina had done to her, the effects faded to leave her a terrified, shaking mess. The true reason for the charmed crystal threatened to drown her, and the feel of Fergus’s fists, the rasping threats, the sweetly crooned apologies drove her to silence her thoughts with alcohol, which then made everything worse. The whiskey lowered her ability to focus on the good memories: her childhood with her mum, co
llege, discovering a passion for calligraphy and letterpress, and Liam.

  She couldn’t bring herself to leave town, though her mostly packed suitcase lay open on the floor, ready to go at a moment’s notice. Liam texted a handful of times, but she ignored him—or tried to. She read each message, usually with tears in her eyes, but stopped short of deleting them. One message contained a faded photo—the two of them at a rugby match, bundled up against the cold, smiling and snuggling close. She typed out a reply: Please stop, but couldn’t hit send.

  Her life—however long she had left, for she still expected Bowman to show up and tear her apart—resumed. Days at her job, nights spent alone, researching Fergus Tharp, trying to discover the one piece of her memory she hadn’t been able to access. He’d taken something from her—a part of her she ached to recover but didn’t know how. When she’d wake, screaming or gasping for air, the memory of Fergus’s fists or his words paralyzing her with terror, she’d focus on Liam. His hands, his voice, his lips. Their last day, their first kiss, laughing, shopping on Grafton Street, and the crowded pub where they’d met for the first time. “I won’t forget…any of this…you…never,” she’d said with his hand in hers, sitting in a coffee shop as she’d prepared to run. And yet, weeks later, she’d allowed Katerina to take her past and lock it away. The guilt chewed at her insides, widening the rift she’d created between her and Liam.

  Her nights stretched endlessly before her; every time she closed her eyes, Fergus came for her. She ached to be Bella again, unaware of the horrors of her past, but even if she could, the few hours spent with Liam tempted her with an impossible future: one in which they loved each other. With a muffled groan, she turned her face into her pillow—the one that still smelled vaguely of him—and let her mind wander towards sleep.

  “Give me yer hands, Catie. When we’re done, we’ll be closer than any two people have ever been. Are ya ready?”

  Breathless, excited, Caitlin held on tight. She wanted this, wanted him. “You won’t leave me?”