Chapter 2

Declan:

Declan stood in a dark corner, watching the sleeping girl on the bed. Every breath was a struggle, and he could smell death’s approach. She wasn’t long for this world, and it was clear that even in her sleep, she couldn’t fully escape the illness that ravaged her.

Quietly, he glided out of his hiding place, and sat on the edge of the bed next to her. It was difficult connecting with a dying mind. Sometimes they were filled with anger and fear, more often with peace – but all of them were difficult. He had to try though – had to see how far gone she was. It would be easier talking to her in her dreams, where people tended to let their barriers come down and showed their true selves.

Very gently, so as not to disturb or cause her pain, Declan took the girl’s hand in his. Her mind was quiet, almost blank, then suddenly the darkness broke open, and bright light flooded in. They were in a sunny meadow. Flowers of all types and colours covered the earth. In the distance, the most beautiful music played, heavenly voices filling the empty silence.

She hovered above mourners at an open grave…her mourners, her grave -- the only one in sight. She felt no sorrow, only peace. She floated down to the people clad in black, folded her hands in front of her and watched them quietly, a smile on her face. “You know,” she said, turning to him. “I don’t know half these people.”

It felt as if a wrecking ball had knocked the breath from his body. Usually, no one knew when he walked into their dreams until he made himself known. She knew before he revealed himself. Declan jerked and tried to break the connection between them, but couldn’t. Her body might have been failing, but her mind was still strong.

“I don’t know you either. Who are you?”

He stared at her. Here, in her dream, he could see what she looked like before the illness ravaged her body. Luscious black hair tumbled to the small of her back, stark against the white of the sundress that hugged her curves in all the right places. Azure eyes bore into him, full lips curved in an amused smile. Declan shifted uncomfortably under her gaze.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

He found his voice. “No, I shouldn’t.”

“Hm. So what are you doing here?”

What was he supposed to say?

“Are you dream walking?” She sounded intrigued.

The nearly dead had a way of knowing things the living couldn’t even begin to understand. “In a manner of speaking. It’s more like … dream observing.”

“Well,” she said, turning away to look at the group of mourners standing around her grave, “not much to observe here, is there?”

He smiled. “You’re here.”

“I’m boring.”

“No, you’re not.”

“I’m dying. Dying people are boring – we don’t have much to say.”

“Are you afraid?”

She shook her head. “No,” she turned from him to look at the mourners, sadness clouding her eyes, “I wish my dad had someone…I’m all he has left. I worry about him.”

“Would you stay? If you could? For him?”

“I don’t know,” she whispered, “I’m suffering. What kind of life is that?”

“What if you didn’t have to suffer? What if you were young and healthy and strong?”

“But that’s not how it works.”

“It could be…I could--”

Abruptly, she turned away from him; staring off into the distance, past the people around the grave, at something, or someone he couldn’t see, but he had a good idea what drew her attention away from him. Her dead loved ones, waiting to welcome her. She startled him again by asking, “If I go to them, will it be over?”

“Probably,” he said.

“I want to so much.” She started crying. A soft, painful sob that tore his heart out.

He ached to comfort her, but he didn’t know how. “Go to them,” he said at last. “Be free.”

“I can’t. Not yet. I have one more thing to do. For my father…” she wandered off. Away from the people she loved and missed, towards the mourners. Towards her father.

He had seen enough.

Very carefully, so as not to disturb her, he untangled himself from her dream. He stared down at the sleeping girl. “Aster,” he whispered her name. It felt strange on his tongue.

She wasn’t at all what he had expected. He could fall in love with her if he allowed himself. He didn’t want to, but he felt it as sure as she felt the ravages of the illness that was eating her alive.

Her eyes fluttered open, but here in the real world, in her drugged up haze, she barely registered his presence. She mumbled something incoherent and went back to sleep.

How he wished he could release her from the agony. Death would be faster and kinder than the fate that awaited her. He desperately wanted to change Edward Montgomery’s mind, but he knew if he tried and succeeded, the council’s retribution would be swift and fierce.

Soundlessly, he slipped from the room, closing the door behind him. Edward looked startled when he suddenly appeared on the landing, but Rowan registered no surprise. Both men stopped talking the minute he appeared, staring at him with questioning eyes. Not really knowing what to say, he waited for one of the other men to speak. The hallway was a silent as a tomb, but Declan refused to talk first. He would be damned if he made this night any easier on either of them.

It was Edward who finally broke the silence. “So?”

“She’s asleep.”

“Did you not wake her?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“She’s in pain Mister Montgomery. Sleep is the only escape she has.”

“I understand that, but you told me you needed to talk to her first.”

“And I did,” Declan said.

“How?”

“I have my ways.”

“You read her mind?”

“A human brain is not a book with pages you can flip through, Mister Montgomery. We had a conversation – just not in the conventional way.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Declan shrugged, ignoring the question completely, “Are you sure this is what you want?” he asked instead.

Immediately, Montgomery answered, “Yes.”

A battle raged inside Declan. He could take Edward – kill him before he knew what hit him. He’d release himself and Aster in one deadly swoop. But what about Katelynn? Even if he could get away before Rowan caught him: What about her? Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to go on, “Did my father explain the process?”

Rowan cleared his throat softly, sending his son a clear warning. Declan glanced at him, then looked back to Edward, “Did my father explain that the…transformation isn’t always successful?”

“What are you trying to do? Rowan, what is he trying to say? Is he…are you saying you won’t do it?”

“Declan,” the sound in his father’s voice sent chills up his spine. “What are you saying?”

“I’m not saying anything, father. I will try, but she is right on the brink. She may be beyond my reach already.” That, at least, was the truth.

Rowan nodded, “I see--” then folded his hands before him “--go on.”

Declan turned back to Edward, “I just need you to be prepared, Mister Montgomery, that’s all. I don’t want you to get your hopes up, in case…it would be devastating.” He lied so smoothly, he almost believed himself. He couldn’t care less about the other man’s feelings.

“You are her last hope. She wants to live. That is important, right? It will increase your chances of success, right?”

Montgomery’s desperation was palpable. Declan almost felt sorry for him, but then remembered that neither of the other two men could give two shits about what they were doing to him tonight, and what little compassion he had evaporated. “No, sir, she’s ready to go. Her life…it’s not a life worth living. The only reason she’s holding on is because she doesn’t want you to suffer.”

“Declan,” Rowan hissed, but he didn’t care much how his father felt.

They could force him to heal her, they could force him to take her as a bride, but they couldn’t force him to shut up.

“It doesn’t matter,” Edward said. “She is sick and in pain – she’s not thinking clearly. You’ll do it anyway.”

“Of course I will,” Declan said, sarcasm dripping from every word.

“When will you do it?”

“Right away. I don’t think she has another twenty-four hours in her.”

Edward nodded and started towards Aster’s bedroom, but just before he could open the door, Declan’s hand shot out and he grabbed the other man’s wrist. “What are you doing?”

“You said it’s time.”

“I did…but you are not going in there with me.” For the first time in days, Declan felt like he had some kind of control, and he knew Rowan would back him up on this one.

“What do you mean I’m not going in there with you? I’m not leaving you alone with my daughter to…to…to--”

“To what? Save her life?” Anger bubbled just below the surface, and it took every ounce of strength he had not to break Edward Montgomery’s neck. He clamped his teeth over his lower lip, biting down so hard that he almost bit it off. The sharp pain and taste of blood cleared his head a little bit, but he didn’t trust himself to speak.

While staring straight at Montgomery, he dug a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped away the blood that ran down his chin. By the time he was done cleaning himself, the wounds had healed. “It’s not a spectator sport,” he said, and looked down at the bloody handkerchief clasped in his fist. “It’s not something you want to see, trust me.”

“I can handle it.”

Declan shoved the handkerchief back in his pocket and shot is father a questioning look. Rowan merely nodded, giving him permission to take full control of the situation. “No, you can’t. It’s an ugly, brutal, bloody, excruciating affair. It’s a private, intimate moment, and you are not welcome. Is that clear?”

Edward’s mouth dropped open in shock. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Now, either you leave or I leave. Which is it?”

Montgomery did not move. For several minutes, the two men stared at each other, each willing the other to back down. Declan gave up first, “Fine, then. You fix her.”

Before he could leave though, Rowan stepped in. “Edward, this is her last chance. You have to trust my son. Trust me.”

The other man sighed and took a tentative step backwards.

“Come on,” Rowan said. “Let’s leave him to it.”

Montgomery looked as defeated as Declan felt. He nodded. “You’ll call me, if…anything goes wrong.”

“I promise,” Declan said softly. For a moment there, he thought that a miracle had happened, and that Aster’s father had changed his mind. For the briefest of seconds, he had allowed himself to hope – he should have known better.

Without another word, Edward and Rowan turned and left. Standing there alone, Declan felt the weight of what he was about to do press down on him. It was almost too much to bear, but bear it he had to.

Taking a deep breath, he opened the door with a shaky hand, and stepped into the darkness.