The winner is... Spirit Warrior- Link to Boru. And congratulations to Susan W, the winner of my contest. She'll soon receive a paperback copy of SEALs on Fire signed by all the Sassy Seven authors (except Nicole Austin. Darn it. She'll be moving to Colorado as the rest of us get together for The Naughty Sleepover in San Antonio.)
Ahhh. I cannot tell you how good it is to have my mental path cleared to get back to writing. I feel so damned good, I've decided to post the second chapter to Spirit Warrior. Plus you, dear readers, deserve it. You've put up with three starts to three very different stories. I appreciate your patience and your input. Truly.
In case you want to read or re-read the first chapter to Spirit Warrior-Link to Boru, click HERE. And, as always, I'd love to hear what you think of this second chapter. Feedback, people! Give me feedback! Plus I'd love it if you would share this story with your friends if you like it.
And now, Chapter 2 of Spirit Warrior-Link to Boru by Brenna Zinn.
Ciao!
Chapter
Two
While
he slept, Cahara rested her wrist against O’Brien’s forehead and then silently
gave thanks to Danu, the mother goddess. His fever had finally broken. The
worst was over. Sean O’Brien would live.
If
he hadn’t been such a big man, she could have killed him. The mere thought of
losing what she prayed so long for sent a wave of sickening nausea to the pit
of her stomach. She had only taken from him what she needed, yet restoring her
powers and her body’s deteriorated state had required a good deal more of his
strength than expected. She’d been far removed from an O’Brien and the River
Shannon for over a hundred fifty years and should have been dead ages ago.
Little wonder she had claimed nearly all his energy.
Holding
out her hand and turning her palm up and back down again, she marveled at the
renewed smoothness of her skin. The age spots which had covered nearly every
inch of her body had faded away too, leaving only healthy, creamy white flesh.
Having lived in a weathered and wrinkled shell of a body for so many seasons,
she barely recognized herself.
Cahira
caught sight of her image in the large mirror hanging on the far side of the
room. Though she had seen her youthful reflection several times in the last few
days, the shock of seeing herself as she appeared over a thousand years ago was
unsettling. So much had changed in the world since her rebirth, yet she
remained exactly the same.
She
raked her fingers through her hair and watched as the long black strands came
to rest against the pale blue of the shirt she now wore. Crisp and clean,
Sean’s shirt felt infinitely better against her skin than her old, tattered
gown. The ends of the too large garment billowed around her knees with her
every movement like a sail catching even the slightest breeze. Soon, she would
find something more suitable to wear, as well as new shoes to cover her feet.
But for now, as long as the sleeves were rolled up snuggly to her forearms and
she could move without constriction, his shirt would have to do.
Allowing
her gaze to drift across the bed, she noted the outline of Sean’s large,
muscular body under the patchwork quilt. Yes, indeed, this man was big. Almost
as big as Brian Boru. And just like the last High King of Ireland, Sean O’Brien
would be her savior, and she would be his.
At
the thought of Boru’s name, Cahira’s chest contracted and her pulse quickened.
Images of the great king pulled at her memory, luring her from the present to
the past. She closed her eyes and drew in a breath until her lungs could hold
no more. Several moments passed before calm washed through her and she allowed
the trapped air to be released. Strong feelings were not welcome and had no
place in her world. Strong feelings led to weakness and mistakes. Oh how she
had learned that painful lesson so long ago.
Despite
the tranquil state she had forced herself into, she could still detect a faint
ache in her heart. Even now, after a thousand years of existing without Boru,
the deep longing within had yet to release its claim on her. She would never
love another man as she loved him.
Preserve the clan,
she reminded herself as she opened her eyes. The pledge she had made to Boru
would never be broken. She would guard and shield the men of the O’Brien clan
from all harm with her powers and body, no matter the cost. Especially the man
resting before her. He was, after all, her only hope for going back home and
returning to her people. And, if the exchange she had overheard between him and
the dark-skinned man called Washington was true, Sean O’Brien needed her
protection.
She
gently brushed back a stray lock of hair from Sean’s face. In the bright
morning light his thick coppery mane, so much like Boru’s, shone like newly
struck half-pennies against the snowy white of his pillow. A lad too comely for his own good, Cahara mused, running her
fingertip down the side of his stubbly cheek. Even his nose and strong jaw
resembled those of his ancestor’s.
Sean’s
hand grabbed her wrist with a force as strong as steel. Each of his fingers
held on to her like a vice. His eyes, narrowed and ferocious, bit through her.
“Touch
me again and it will be the last thing you ever do.”
Cahara
gently lowered her arm. Breaking Sean’s hold would be easy, but doing so risked
causing him further harm. In his weakened state, even slight excursion could
render him injury. “I’m not here to hurt you, O’Brien. I’m here to protect
you.”
“By
drugging me?” Sean ground out slowly. He tightened the pressure on her wrist.
“You think I’m going to buy that?”
“Calm
yourself, O’Brien. You were not drugged. I only took from your power to
replenish my own.” Cahara carefully
twisted and pulled her forearm, hoping to remove his grip without breaking his
fingers. “I’ve told you before, my name is Cahara. I am the láech for the clan O’Brien.”
Sean
raised himself from the mattress and pushed her down onto the bed beneath him,
his face only inches from hers. “That means nothing to me,” he rumbled darkly.
His
forcefulness pleased her. He was more of a warrior than she’d first given him
credit. Modern living may have dulled his senses – no O’Brien hardened by
living off the land would have failed to notice her entry into his home as he
had - but his survivor’s spirit and the quick rejuvenation of his strength
clearly signaled the ancient bloodline flowed strong in his veins.
So
how was it he had no knowledge of her existence?
Dread
settled over Cahara like a cold fog, chilling her body to the core. Had she
been away from the clan so long they no longer knew of their own
protector?
Cahara
searched Sean’s face, looking for clues as to how to handle this unfamiliar
man. Like a cornered wild animal, he showed no fear, only confusion fused with
anger. Arguing with him or pushing back would only provoke him to fight harder.
Allowing
herself to go limp under his weight, she submitted to his authority. If Sean
believed he was in control and she spoke in hushed tones, he might relax enough
to listen to her. Believing her would be another matter.
“I am the warrior and protector of the O’Brien
clan. You are a member of my clan,” she said, carefully weighed each word
before speaking them aloud.
“I belong to no clan.” He pushed her further
into the mattress. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead. “I’m an American.”
Her
sensitive hearing picked up his heartbeat, which pounded rapidly like a war drum
in the heat of battle. His face nearly glowed red. If she didn’t get through to
him quickly, she would have to use force instead of reason to keep his weakened
heart from exploding.
“Do
you know of your heritage?” she whispered, further trying to calm him. “You are
the descendant of Brian Boru.”
A
glimmer of recognition registered on his handsome face. For one brief moment he
hesitated, but that moment was all she needed. He did know something of his
ancestry.
“You
are the son born to a man whose father and generations of grandfathers were
born to men of the O’Brien clan. Brian Boru established our clan over a
thousand years ago.”
“How
do you know this about me?” He barked.
“Do
you remember how I appeared when you first saw me?”
He
shook his head. “I don’t know what I saw.”
He rose slightly and shifted his body until he straddled her torso with
his knees. “But I do remember this.”
With a speed greater than Cahara thought he
was capable of, Sean reached down and drew her dagger from its sheath. Her
breath caught in her throat as terror gripped her soul.
Sean held the only weapon in the world
capable of ending her life, and she didn’t doubt for a second he would use it.
