Page 20 of The Seer

“I, uh, what, um, why are you here?” Taryn glanced behind him, hoping to extract herself politely to find Brenna, but unsure she should leave the man wandering around alone. “Are you looking for someone?”

“Fintan. And you’re nervous. What’s going on?” His tone had hardened along with his visage, revealing that, at the man’s core, he was no-nonsense and ready to take immediate action when a threat arose. Other than the knowledge Creed Caldwell was formidable when riled, she knew nothing about him.

Her worry for Fintan overrode her caution. “The ancestors pulled him under hours ago, and he hasn’t woken up yet.”

“Did you phone Damian or Jordan?”

“They arrived here and checked him for signs of serious injury, but didn’t find any. Damian feared permanently destroying Fintan’s link to the ancestors if he pulled him out, so he’s taking a wait-and-see approach. I’m to let them know if he doesn’t wake up soon.” She clenched her hands, feeling helpless and afraid for Fintan. “I’m worried, though. His screams are echoing in my head, and that’s new.”

Creed scowled. “What the fuck are you waiting for then? Let’s go!”

“Where?”

“To get the other Sullivans. Maybe they know what to do.”

Taryn halted him. “That’s why I was in the kitchen. I was scrying for Brenna.” She pointed in the opposite direction. “They’re in Eoin’s studio.”

“And Narissa?”

Did she imagine his voice was grittier than normal? “I don’t really know her. I’d only met her once at Damian’s when Morgan—uh,Morcant—attacked, and I don’t know how to contact her.”

“Okay. I’ll call her. You get Brenna. Then we’ll meet…” Creed’s brows met. “Where’s Fintan?”

“His room.”

“Which is?”

“Oh. I’d forgotten you’ve never been here before. It’s in the north wing, top floor.”

“I’ve been here plenty, but this place is the size of a fucking mausoleum,” he said with an irritated glance around. “I’ve never ventured above the second floor and haven’t felt the need to seek out Fintan’s bedroom.”

Taryn would’ve laughed if she were in a joking mood.

They separated, with Creed heading for the gardens and her going toward Eoin’s studio. When she reached her destination, she hesitated. Goddess, the last thing she wanted was to discover them getting busy. But she didn’t see where she had a choice.

Fintan’s bellow echoed loudly inside her mind, removing any hesitation. Taryn gasped and fell against the studio door, holding the frame for dear life.

His pain was great. She reached through their link, praying to ease his suffering in some small way, and was promptly electrocuted.

A scream was torn from her throat.

Within seconds of her shout, the door was yanked open, and Taryn sprawled at Eoin’s feet. He looked none too happy she’d disturbed them. But his scowl immediately shifted to concern, and he wrapped an arm around her as he helped her to her feet.

“Taryn? What’s happened, love?”

“Fintan—ah!” Piercing pain shot through her skull, forcing her to clamp her head in her hands. She expected her brain would explode at any moment, or at the very least, an aneurysm.

“Fintan?” Brenna snapped her fingers, and by the time she’d reached them, she was fully clothed. Based on her forbidding expression, she was prepared for an epic battle. There were a handful of people she adored in addition to her husband, and Fintan ranked at the top of that list.

“What’s happened to him?” she demanded.

“He’s trapped in his mind.” Taryn panted through the agony of another shockwave. “The ancestors…”

“Where?”

“His room.”

Brenna touched her with one hand and clasped her husband’s wrist with the other. Taryn’s cells warmed to the point of burning, but cooled as soon as they landed in front of Fintan’s door. Group teleports caused additional friction and were much more uncomfortable than a single-person jump, though still tolerable.

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