Page 37 of Total Eclipse of the Moon
"I shouldn’t have left you. I should’ve fought for you or died with you."
"You had work to do. You still do. Now it’s…" His gaze turned toward the house. She followed his line of vision to where Shane stood in the shadows. Normally, she didn’t want anyone seeing this because this moment was hers and hers alone. Oddly, Shane’s presence didn’t feel intrusive. He wasn’t trying to steal this from her or cast judgment.
Samuel said in his high, young voice, "It’s his time. And yours."
"I don’t want to let you go."
She sensed Samuel’s energy fading.
"No, don’t go," she begged. "Please, don’t leave me alone."
She felt his small arms link around her. "I love you, Mum. I can go now because you’re not alone anymore." A small breeze lit her cheek with his kiss. "Nighty-night."
He was gone.
She collapsed, depleted. He’d never said "nighty-night" before. That was him saying his final good-bye. The definitiveness left her numb with longing for one more hug….one more kiss…one more time to hear his happy laugh.
Tears came again, but she didn’t have the energy to wipe them away or get off the ground. She wanted to go with Samuel. To be in the afterworld with him. Not here where she had nothing.
Warm arms, strong and substantial, surrounded her and lifted. She buried her face in Shane’s shoulder. "He…he’s…gone."
"Your love for each other must’ve been great to form a bond strong enough for him to hold on this long after death."
"He’s not coming back."
"He knows you loved him. As much as he loved you."
He carried her inside and held her while she soaked his shirt, making no further comment. Eventually, the tears ran out.
"Sorry," she muttered as she lifted away from his soaked shirtfront. "I made a mess of you."
"Do you enjoy anything in your life anymore? You don’t sleep. You barely eat. You’re constantly on the move to avoid people killing you. You’re alone." His tone was at the same time empathetic and melancholy.
"Do you?" she countered.
"All of it blends together. I go from one issue that needs me to resolve it to the next. Food, drink, sex, everything…it all kind of seems… Honestly, I don’t let myself enjoy much anymore. There’s always something else nasty or evil to deal with. How about you?"
"I have my aunt, Cora, but I don't see her very often. I spend all my time running and worrying." She stared down at the worn, burnt metal car in her hands. "I probably should spend more time with her. Really, though, I don’t have anything or anyone. We both have a miserable existence, I suppose."
* * *
Shane heldher until she fell asleep. And didn’t let go. She felt insubstantial in his arms. Yet this woman was strong.
When he saw that child’s spirit, the last bit of resentment he held toward her for casting the curse fizzled. No one whose son loved her that much, even after death, could be evil to the core. If someone held one of his people hostage—God forbid it’d be his own child, although he had none and couldn’t know the depth of that pain—and demanded he do something within his magical arsenal in exchange for their life? He'd do it.
The one thing he’d learned since being infected with Baku was every nonhuman, especially those considered insane or dangerous, had their own story. There was usually a good reason behind their seeming madness when they did things to draw human attention. Occasionally, one might truly have a screw loose and nothing could redeem their soul. And demons—no offense, Baku—most of them had no ethical compass.
No snarky comment in his head from the demon?
He’d never imagined Madeline’s story would be so heartbreaking. To think she had avoided assassination attempts for decades to have one minute with her son’s dead spirit every twelve months. Thatthiswas all she had to live for. They were lucky she hadn’t given in and let an assassin do its job.
He carried her to the single bedroom and tucked her under the covers. He watched her for a moment before heading outside to phone Roman. The burner phone had only the two numbers Flynn plugged in before they parted ways in London. Untraceable phones had become necessity in these modern times where every electronic could be tracked.
His oldest brother answered on the first ring, "You find her?"
"What did you find out about FenCor and those facilities?" he countered, not ready to discuss Madeline.
"They call itThe Project. Creative name, huh?" Sarcasm dripped in his tone. "It’s been ongoing for at least fifteen years. We interrogated Slate, the head of MI6. The guy helped collect nonhumans for them over the past ten years. For every successfully trained and programmed super soldier, at least twenty died or were killed in the process."
