Chapter Twenty-Four
The rapid puff, puff, puff, puff of an inflating blood pressure cuff, followed by a gentle squeeze to her biceps, woke Lassi from a deep, dreamless sleep. Her eyelids flew open. She found herself in her bedroom at Great-Whatever-She-Was’s cottage, surrounded by the same bloody mess. The familiar dark clouds hung outside the window, threatening to dump rain at any second. The only thing of note was the absence of battering wind. Maybe it calmed down when the Dearg-Due got locked away.
An IV drip line snaked from the top of her hand, eking some saline cocktail into her system. An empty chair sat positioned by her side. On the other side of the bed rested a handsome guy wearing a blue polo shirt. His light brown hair, flecked with gold, hung to his jaw, giving him a rogue, kind of wild appearance. A stethoscope hung from his ears.
He pressed the diaphragm under the cuff, listening intently. When he’d heard what he needed to hear, he removed the stethoscope and the cuff, and placed them on the side table, smiling. “119 over 75. Your blood pressure’s back to normal. It was all over the place in the middle of the night. We’ll check it again once you’ve been up and around. Good nap?”
She blinked, running her tongue around the inside of her mouth to clear the sludge. “I guess so. I’m still alive.”
“Inspector Conway called me to come to your aid here in Ballynagaul. You and I—we’ve spent most of the night together.” He winked.
“You’re a cheeky one. And yet I don’t remember a thing. It must not have been your finest,” she countered, her cheeks reddening.
“I’ll do better next time,” he said, with a saucy smile. “You’re a sturdy lass, Miss Finn. You were completely drained when your boyfriend let me in.”
“My boyfriend?” Her eyebrows drew together.
“Cillian Ward. He said you were his.”
She shivered with pleasure. “Did he now?”
“He did. He was worried about you. I’m Dr. Stephen Breslin, by the way.” He extended his hand.
She shook it as firmly as she could, given she was still weak as a kitten washed up on the shore. “You’ve got an American accent. Are you from the States?”
“Bingo,” he said, tapping his finger once in the air. “I always dreamed of living in Ireland. I’m from Michigan. I moved to Dungarvan once I’d finished my medical training in Dublin.”
She pushed herself up on the bed, resting her weight on her forearms. “You lived in Dublin? That’s where I live. I’m a labor and delivery nurse.”
“Nice.” He bobbed his head up and down, causing his hair to fall in his eyes. After raking it back, he added, “I studied at Royal House Hospital. Where do you work?”
“Same place,” she said, excited for a comrade from home. Wistful longings of life in Dublin swirled through her heart. They collided with the stirrings of longing for Cillian. What do I do about that situation?
Dr. Breslin grinned, revealing dimples, and held up his palm for a high five.
She sat up and slapped it.
“Well,” he said, rising to his feet. “I’ve got to make rounds back at Dungarvan. You sit tight. Once you get some rest and more fluids, you should be good to go.”
“Um,” she said, hesitating. “What did Cillian say happened?” I hope they didn’t say I exhausted myself by depleting my magic, which I only learned about recently and haven’t a fecking clue how to use.
He opened his mouth to answer, but Cillian and Conway tromped into the room. He turned and smiled. “Gentlemen.”
“Dr. Breslin,” Cillian said. He gave the doctor a quick nod then directed his gaze to Lassi. Dressed in jeans and a soft, linen shirt, he looked nothing like a priest and everything like a hot-blooded male with the power to turn her insides to steaming desire.
She gave him a once over, noting his slim hips, his tight ass, and his broad shoulders. When she lifted her gaze to his, he flashed her a mischievous smile.
“There she is,” Conway said, interrupting their private moment.
This again. Everyone reminding me where I am. “Where else would I be?” she snapped. “Do you think I’d have checked out of this hotel already, without saying goodbye?”
“Hotel?”
“It’s a joke.” She smirked.
“And there’s that sparkling wit,” he said, with a frown.
Cillian snorted. He strode to her side. “How are you feeling, love?”
He lifted her free hand from the bed and kissed her palm. The warmth of his lips spread up her arm like Cupid’s arrow.
“Better than last night,” she said, with uncharacteristic shyness. Her eyelids lowered like a daft schoolgirl.
Conway faced Dr. Breslin and began a low conversation.
Lassi didn’t care. She couldn’t take her eyes from Cillian.
He looked all rumpled, the way she imagined he’d look after a night of wild jungle monkey sex—minus the dark circles lining his eyes and the lines of worry scoring his face.
Cillian stroked her hand with his thumb. “Did you mean what you said last night? Before you fainted?”
Her forehead furrowed as she tried to recall. Something about I think I love you. Her neck and cheeks flushed with heat. “Oh, that.”
His expression grew dark and serious. “Is that all it was? Nothing but an ‘oh, that?’”
He kept stroking her hand, stoking blissful sensation.
She looked at the bedding tucked around her. “No. I’m sure the sentiment was true.”
He brought his finger to her chin and tipped her face up. “Was true?”
She met his steady gaze. “Is. Is true. I... I’ve never felt this way about anybody. Ever.”
She half expected—hoped—he’d say the same about her, declaring some undying love. No. Not mysterious Cillian Ward, the two-hundred-year-old man.
He seemed to tuck into himself, slipping into a place of utter stillness she’d only glimpsed. He withdrew his hand and simply stared at her, with an unfathomable expression of...longing? Repulsion? Considering other options? She couldn’t tell. She wished she hadn’t said anything.
“Well, I’ll be checking back later,” Dr. Breslin said, thankfully interrupting her descent into insecurity. He lifted his hand in farewell.
Conway stepped over to shake his hand.
Cillian gave him a nod.
Lassi said, “Thank you, doctor.”
After he was out of earshot, she hissed, “So what the bloody hell did you say happened to me? All systems were failing when I passed out.”
Conway crossed his arms loosely over his chest. He leaned against the bedroom wall. “Oh, we were right worried, girl, to be certain. You looked to be knocking at death’s door.”
Cillian came out of his coma behavior and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “But Conway, here, told the staff you fainted from exhaustion and low blood sugar.”
Lassi snorted. “With all the crazy symptoms I was having? Even I wouldn’t believe that. What a bunch of bollocks.”
“You’re not the only one who can make up absolute shite alibis,” Conway retorted, adding a chuckle.
“Good to know,” she said.
“I’m afraid you’re going to have to get used to that,” Cillian said.
“What? Almost dying? No to that idea.” She picked at the bedding, finding a few cat hairs. Does Crusty sleep with me? She shook her head. Nah.
“You’ll have to master the art of magic. You manifested more power than you knew what to do with. It got the job done, but almost took you from us.”
Utter heartbreak flashed across his face in jagged lines. He gripped her hand between both of his.
“Well, I’ll add that to my ‘to-do’ list,” she said, not wanting to linger on the topic of her demise.
“You’d best,” Conway said, from his post in the doorway. “From what my mother told me, once the cat’s been let out of the bag, there’s no putting her back.”
“I was exhausted my own self,” Cillian said. “I dove to the bottom of the sea as fast as I could and gathered ocean stones. Once I reached the surface, I hurled them atop the grave and headed back down for more. It took everything out of me to have to do it so fast. I could have dealt with Penny, had I not been hanging onto my reserves.” His mouth bunched up. “I made all kinds of mistakes. I let emotion rule my actions.”
“Cillian, don’t beat yourself up,” Lassi said. “We’re all alive and the bad guys are...” She shuddered, picturing Galbraith’s head, hanging onto his neck by mere threads of tissue, rolling back and forth in the ocean surge. She swallowed. “They’re dead. Although we’ll never know Galbraith’s part in the crime and whether he was a good guy, caught in the middle, or a bad guy, intent on evil.”
Cillian seemed to sink into himself partway, hovering between being present and slipping back into his mystery world.
She didn’t want him to disappear. “So, while I was in here napping, you both were cavorting around town, am I right?”
She smiled and laid back against the pillows.
“I sat right there. All night.” Cillian pointed at the empty chair.
Her heart lurched. “You did?”
He nodded.
“And I just got back from Dungarvan.” Conway swiped his eyes with a thumb and forefinger. “Galbraith and Penny’s bodies were taken to the morgue there. Inspector Brown is back at the station.” He shifted side to side, looking at his feet.
“Are you all right?” Lassi asked
“I... I’ve never had to kill anyone. Shooting Penny in the chest isn’t sitting well with me. But Cillian, here, has found a way to help ease my conscience.”
“How so?” She glanced at Cillian’s beautiful sea-green gaze, kind of glad it was normal, and not in Leviathan mode. That Levia-eye-freak maneuver would take some getting used to.
He gave her a nod, but stayed silent, his face revealing nothing.
“I’m going to resign in Dungarvan and take Galbraith’s old position here in Ballynagaul. I got Brown to agree, given the awful murders and the fact she’s right pissed with me. But, at least she isn’t angry about me letting you two go. She thinks Penny and Galbraith were lovers gone mad.” He snorted.
Lassi’s eyebrows lifted. “She thinks they were in cahoots?”
“Yes,” Conway said. “I might have suggested as much.”
She laughed. “You and your shite alibis.”
He smirked. “Apparently, that’s how it’s done here in Ballynagaul.”
“Ooh, snap,” she said, playfully. Then, she gave him a sympathetic gaze. “You shouldn’t feel you have to move to Ballyna-nowhere to atone for anything, Inspector.”
He gave a slight smile. “A man’s conscience is a tricky, fickle thing, Lassi. This feels like what I need to do.” He straightened, standing taller. “In any case, it’s going to be a sticky few months ahead as the investigation wraps up. There might be reporters, and there will certainly be more questioning. I’m going to be here to help everyone get and keep their stories straight. Besides, now there are five people—Mary, Conway, Cillian, Siobhan, and yourself—who know the story of the Dearg-Due and Cillian, and that’s four more than for what makes a safe secret. I need to be here to do damage control.”
Lassi’s eyes widened. “Siobhan knows, too?”
“She does.”
As if on cue, Siobhan entered, carrying Paul. “I do. Conway told me everything when I questioned him. I was trying to put everything together and I told the Inspector I’d make his life hell if he didn’t help me understand.” She looked absolutely wrung out and exhausted. “It’s good to see you’re alive,” she said.
“Last time we spoke, I wasn’t your favorite,” Lassi replied. She fiddled with the crisp bed sheets.
“Heartache will do that to a person.” She shifted Paul to her other hip. “Turns out my happy marriage was all a mirage. Oh, I think Dylan loved me and all. And, he adored Paul, here. But he had a roving eye, that man. I’ve got some sorting to do. I’m sorry I was so harsh. To the both of you.” She acknowledged both Cillian and her.
Cillian nodded but still stayed mute.
Lassi wanted to shake him. There he goes again, getting all moody and broody and still as a statue. She turned her attention back to Siobhan. “I’ve seen more grief than I care to remember. I know how sorrow can fuck you up.”
Siobhan managed a wan smile. “What will you do with the cottage?”
Paul began to fuss.
She bobbed him up and down in her arms.
“I’ll have to take another week off from Dublin. I need to clean out stuff I should have cleaned. I’ve been a bit preoccupied.”
A loud whistle filled the air.
Lassi blinked.
“There’s your tea kettle. I don’t like to use those electric things. I found Roberta’s old kettle buried in the cupboard.”
Lassi groaned. “Do you mean I could’ve simply lit the flame and had tea when the power was out?”
“You didn’t?” Siobhan asked.
“No! I’m an idiot.”
“Well, let’s set that to rights.” She spun and hurried from the room.
Lassi glanced at Cillian.
He continued sitting stiffly, frowning at her and rubbing his jaw.
“Tea! This is a good thing, Cillian. I’m going to drink tea. At last! It only took three murders, a showdown with a Dearg-Due, and a Leviathan to finally get my tea.” Her mouth seemed to sputter and shoot words without her consent. “That’s a joke,” she said, her stomach twisting into knots.
His frown deepened. He stepped toward her, kissed her tenderly on the head like she was a wee child, and said, “Get some rest.”
“Uh. Okay. What will you do?”
“I have some things to tend to.” He pivoted, said his farewells to Conway, and strode away.
“See you, man,” Conway said, lifting his chin.
Lassi stared at Cillian’s back. “What the fuck?”
“I’m sure he feels responsible,” Siobhan said, returning with her tea. She handed the baby to Conway. “Here.”
He stiffened and took the child.
“You know what? You’re all right, Conway. I think I misjudged you,” Lassi said.
You do have tiny eyes and a ferret’s face, but, hey. One of my friends in Dublin had a ferret for a pet. Cute little thing. Playful and inquisitive and the like.
“Yeah,” Conway said, appearing awkward and uncomfortable holding Paul. “You’re all right, too. I didn’t know how much you knew. I had to fool Brown into thinking you were a suspect.”
She rolled her eyes. “I hated that part.”
“I know.”
Siobhan placed the tea cup in Lassi’s hand. “Drink. This tea will set you right.”
Lassi took the cup. “Thank you.” She listened to Cillian’s retreating steps. Her heart sank. She let out a long sigh. This is not the way I’d wished things would go with him. “Let’s hope. I’ve been missing my tea. I haven’t had a good cuppa since I set foot in this place.” She brought the cup to her lips and took a tentative sip. Swallowing the warm liquid, she sighed. Then, she laughed. “Nothing happened. It’s simply a cup of tea I’m drinking. And, good Christ, does it taste fine.”
“What do you mean?” Conway asked.
“Long story.”
The front door slammed shut.
Her smile vanished.
Conway glanced over his shoulder. “At least the killings have stopped.”
Lassi nodded. “I hope you’re right. But I think my heart will be the next victim.”