AJ stared straight ahead as land slowly came into view. He didn’t bother slowing the boat as he usually would have. Instead he let it sail, full speed, until they were almost at the island. Then, using air and water, he forced them to a stop. He paid no attention to the amount of power that he was using. All he focused on was one thing: what he could do to get his lover back.
That goal burned inside of him, an all-consuming fire. Nothing else mattered. Nothing else was important. He had to save Brian before…no, he wasn’t going to think like that. Nothing was going to happen to Brian. Roth wasn’t that type of person. He wouldn’t just kill him outright. He would want to keep him there, play games with him. Play games with AJ.
He hadn’t spoken a word since he’d told Howie that he was going to make Roth suffer. Despite Howie’s constant nagging, AJ stayed silent. He knew what he was going to do. No amount of words on Howie’s part was going to be able to stop him. Nor did he feel the need to sit and explain every move he was going to make.
“Where the hell are we, Alyck?” Howie demanded, hopping down from the boat after AJ.
AJ ignored him and headed up the beach. He was still wearing the same jeans that he’d been wearing for days; no shirt, no shoes, no socks. Yet he paid no attention to the rocks that dug into his feet as he crossed the sand and moved up the embankment. Behind him he could hear Howie scrambling and cursing to himself in Italian. Howie always said that Italian was the best language for loving and swearing.
“Are you going to tell me where the hell we are or what we’re doing here?”
This time Howie’s words penetrated enough to break through AJ’s haze. He paused on top of the bank, looking out over the lush green hills spread before him. “We’re in Ireland.” He explained. Indeed, that was enough of an explanation. The minute he said their location, Howie froze and turned to glare at him. “You brought me to Ireland?” Howie hissed furiously. “You know I don’t come here. You know that!”
AJ turned to look at his friend. The fire and ice in that look had Howie biting his tongue. “Your petty fight will not get in my way. I need everyone that I can get, Howi. Swallow your pride, or get the hell out of my way.”
Just like that, the moment was gone. AJ turned back to the hills and set off walking again. His magic was still flowing, so he extended his senses further out, searching for what he wanted. They had only been walking for ten minutes before he felt it. A small ripple on the very edge of his awareness. Probing at it confirmed to him who it was. Another sweep indicated no people around except for the one that he wanted.
Safe in that, AJ abandoned all pretense of simply walking, and took off at a run. As he had learned to do so many years ago, he used earth and air to speed his running, covering distance quicker than any man alive could. In no time he was close enough that the person he sought after sensed him as well. Him, and Howi.
Because he’d been watching, AJ was prepared when the wave of magic struck. In an instant he had his shield up, buffeting the attack. Ahead, from the line of trees, a woman strode out, her dress billowing out behind her. With her clothes styled simply, a dress of white that flowed on the breeze, and that fiery hair dangling loose, she was a vision of beauty. Until one caught sight of her face, or noticed the barely controlled anger in each step she took.
“Isleen.” AJ called out in greeting.
The woman held a hand out toward him, not bothering to send her magic. She knew her strength, and knew that anything she tried he would be able to block. But that didn’t stop her temper. “Bí ciúin, Alyck!” She shouted at him to be quiet, drawing close to them now. “What nerve have you, bringing him here to me? I want him off this land!”
“You can’t force me to leave an entire continent, Isleen, just because you’re still mad at me. It’s been six hundred years!” Howie shouted. If AJ’s shield hadn’t been braced for both magical and physical attacks, Howie would have been a bleeding mess on the ground. Isleen threw herself against the shield with a wild shriek, banging her fists into it. “Go hifreann leat!” She shouted. To Hell with you!
There was no time for this. Impatient, AJ used air to push them both back. Isleen spun toward him, her Irish temper spewing forth. One look at his face had her freezing. All signs of temper faded, and she stepped toward him, one hand outstretched. “Mo stór,” she whispered, coming closer to him. “The pain, oh the pain. What has that look to your eyes? What has happened?”
In her own time, before her rebirth into immortality, Isleen had been hunted in her village as a witch. Though she hadn’t been, indeed the lack of magical powers in this life proved how few she had possessed in her normal life, she had been a strong empath. That had only grown wither rebirth.
“I need you, Isleen.” AJ said. His voice was hard and flat. He couldn’t find it in him to drum up his manners, or the easy camaraderie that he had with this woman. Their friendship spanned her entire immortal existence. It had been AJ who had found her, starving in the woods after her village had chased her out. AJ who had taken her home, and healed her body. It had also been AJ who had brought her over, at her insistence. That had created a bond of friendship that no amount of time or words would ever be able to break.
“Whatever you ask, you know that if it’s in my power I will grant it to you.”
“Rothalo has something of mine. Something important. I need your help to get it back. Then, I’m going to kill him.”
She didn’t flinch under his words as most women would have. She simply stared into his eyes, reading his emotions as he spoke. Her answer was instantaneous. “Of course. I shall take you to my house, and we’ll dress you and grab my bag. What are we retrieving?” She gestured for them to follow and then set off towards the woods, leading him toward her home. It wasn’t AJ who responded to her question, though. It was Howie. “Not a what. A who.”
That was enough to have Isleen forgetting her anger long enough to look at Howie and ask “What?”
“Roth stole a new one. Just barely turned, and almost as strong as Alyck.”
Isleen muttered something in Gaelic. She allowed herself to fall back a few steps, letting AJ lead. She could feel the emotions radiating from him, chilling her soul. At that moment, the man needed to be left alone. Her house was visible in the distance now, a small cottage nestled at the bottom of a hill. “What does Roth want with this one?”
Howie stared at AJ, ignoring the feelings that burst to life in him simply by having her walking next to him. “What else? To find a way to destroy Alyck.”
“So this young one is important to Alyck? A friend?”
“Worse.” For this, Howie turned to look at her. “A friend of both of us, but to Alyck he’s so much more. What you feel from Alyck right now, the pain and sorrow, the loneliness, almost as if something inside of him is missing?” Eyes wide, Isleen nodded at him. All of her anger seemed to be forgotten for the moment in the face of all this. “That empty place you feel inside him is where the young one goes. Brian. He’s that part of Alyck that has never been complete. The other half of his soul.”
Sorrow filled Isleen’s eyes. “Mo stór. No wonder he is so cold.” She whispered. “But what does he expect us to do? He’s the only one who stands a chance against Roth.”
They had reached her house by now. AJ was sitting on the front step, waiting for them impatiently. Howie hurried to speak before they got within hearing range. “I have no idea what his plan is. He won’t say anything, beyond making Roth suffer. But, he’s very protective of Brian. He’s always tried to shelter him, be the protector. He feels like he’s failed, and he’s trying to fix it all. I’m afraid of what he’ll do.” Howie looked over at her, and his next words were chilling. “With as much magic as him and Roth hold, if they’re not careful, a fight between them could split the world in half.”