Black Heart (Cursed Hearts 1)

“Lass,” Quinn said softly as he appeared in front of her. “There’s nothing that ye can do to stop this.”

“Of course there is,” she mumbled, only half listening as she reached around him to grab her phone as she debated whether she would be better off calling Tom first.

“There’s nothing to do now, but wait for the curse to finish.”

Chapter 37

“Everything’s going to be alright, Marty,” her father said, giving her a reassuring smile and for good reason.

He had absolutely no idea that Tristan was going to die.

“I know,” she lied, waiting for him to put the cruiser in park and shutdown the emergency lights before she opened her door and stepped out of the car as she tried to convince herself that this wasn’t the end.

It couldn’t be. Not for them and definitely not for Tristan. He was the most stubborn man that she’d ever known, but each time she reminded herself of that fact Quinn’s words would echo in her head, destroying what little hope she had left.

This had to be a dream, all of it.

Any second now she was going to wake up. She’d share this dream with Tristan when he asked her what was wrong. When she told him, he’d tease her and distract her with his wicked kisses until this dream was nothing more than a distant memory and all she could think about was the way that he felt when he moved against her.

All her hopes that this was a dream vanished when a man wearing a bloodied hospital gown stumbled through the brick wall of the hospital and headed her way. Numbly, she watched as Finn and Fergus suddenly appeared in front of the man. Seconds later the trio was engulfed in a beautiful white light that spread all around them. It didn’t quite reach her, which was probably the reason why she felt dread instead of any hope when she saw the ambulance transporting Tristan pull into the long driveway.

*-*-*-*

“Fuck! We need to get his fever down.”

“Did your mother have any more ice in the freezer?” Tom asked, trying to stay calm when Shayne could tell that the man was struggling to hold it together.

It was a familiar scene, one that he’d watched play out hundreds of times during his too long, f**ked up existence. He’d even experienced this scenario, twice. The first time when Tadgh had died in his arms and the second time when his own mate, Aileen had died the one and only time he’d allowed himself to be born and taken a stab at breaking the curse.

He’d failed miserably. He hadn’t been able to protect her, which was the reason why he’d never tried again. She was better off without him and this bloody curse that tainted everything that it touched.

The last time he’d seen her, she’d been covered in blood, his and hers, and cursing him out for being a bastard. He’d taken it, held her tightly in his arms as he swore that he would never bother her again and unlike Tadgh, he’d kept his word.

Keeping his word hadn’t been difficult for him and probably for a very simple reason. While Tadgh was truly in love with his soul mate, Shayne was not. In fact, not strangling the woman with his bare hands had taken every ounce of energy that he’d had every time he’d seen her during that one lifetime that he’d foolishly tried to set them free.

She didn’t mean anything other than a means to an end. He didn’t hate her, but he couldn’t honestly say that he cared about her. He’d never met her when he’d been alive, truly alive before this curse had trapped them and during that one and only attempt he hadn’t developed any feelings beyond annoyance for her. She wasn’t his responsibility and he didn’t owe her a damn thing, which was the reason that he’d been able to turn his back on her. Tadgh, on the other hand…..

Tadgh was his brother, his blood and his responsibility. He would never be able to turn his back on him no matter how much his brother pissed him off. He was also the best person that Shayne had ever known.

Christ, he could still remember those carefree smiles that made it so damn difficult to stay angry at the boy. He’d been such a kind boy and an even kinder man. Tadgh would have made such a wonderful father and if it hadn’t been for him, he would have had that chance.

He’d f**ked up everything with one simple mistake, a stupid mistake and one that he’d spend eternity wishing like hell that he could fix, but he couldn’t. There was no going back, no fixing the mistake that had cost them everything, and no forgiving himself. Tadgh didn’t seem to have that problem.

Nothing had ever hurt like the moment that he’d watched Tadgh die for the first time and then watched as the man appeared in his new cursed form as he was forced to watch his wife and unborn child die. God, the anguish and pain he’d seen in his brother’s eyes as he knelt by Macha’s side still tore at him when he allowed himself to remember that moment, but it had nothing on the moment that followed once Macha and baby’s souls were taken away.

As Shayne had laid on the ground, barely able to breathe, never mind move from the injuries that he’d suffered, he’d been forced to watch as his brother’s world was destroyed and his heart was shattered. When Tadgh had finally been able to look away from the body of his young wife and looked at him, he’d seen pain, so much goddamn pain, but he’d also seen forgiveness in his brother’s eyes.

Tadgh had stayed with them all as they’d been forced to lie there feeling useless and helpless as the reminders of their failure had laid only a few feet away. By the third day they hadn’t been able to take the reminder of their failure any longer. They’d dragged their bodies, broken and bloodied over to where Tadgh and Macha’s bodies laid. For the rest of the day and night they’d slowly dug a hole and buried the bodies while Tadgh stood over them.

He never said a word while they worked, not even when they’d managed to drag Macha’s body into the hole and started to push dirt into the hole to cover her. He simply stood there, standing guard over them while they did what had to be done. Shayne wasn’t sure how he’d handled it. He knew that he wouldn’t have been able to cope with watching his own funeral. The two times that he’d died he hadn’t stuck around to watch, but Tadgh always watched.

They’d told him that he wouldn’t be able to talk to or touch Marty once he died and that much was true. If she was still alive after he died, he’d be pulled out right away, but the moment that her time was up, he would start to feel the pull to return to her and each and every time he gave in without a second of hesitation. Tadgh always stood by Macha’s side as she drew her last breath. Then he would stay with her body until she was buried.