Caomhnóir - 40

“Welcome,” Darius called out when he was a few feet away from where Keegan stood. When he beckoned him to approach, Keegan shook his head.

“Release him first,” Keegan said with soft intensity.

Thom heard his voice and looked up, his eyes wide with hope and fear. “Go Keegan,” he called out, his voice raspy but strong with emotion. “Don’t let him do this to you. Don’t let him—” His words were choked off when the man holding the chain gave it a sharp tug, almost pulling Thom off his feet.

“Bastard,” Keegan shouted, taking a few steps to reduce the distance between him and Darius without stepping onto the bridge. “Free him, now!”

Darius just smiled, taking his hand from behind his back. “Put this on, then, possibly, I shall.” He held out a collar that matched the one on Thom, a thick chain hanging from it. Keeping the end of the chain held tightly in his hand, he tossed the collar to Keegan.

“When he’s by my side, and not before.”

Chuckling, Darius turned, telling the man to bring Thom to them, and then taking the chain from him. “The collar, now,” he ordered Keegan.

Fighting the Geis with everything in him, Keegan moved onto the bridge. He knew that once he’d put the collar on Darius had only to drag him a few hundred feet back along the bridge to the other side and he would be forever trapped, a prisoner in the place where he’d died, and Darius’ prisoner as well, with no hope of ever escaping.

When Keegan hesitated, Darius put one hand on Thom’s shoulder, forcing him to his knees. A slender blade appeared in Darius free hand. He pressed the edge of it against Thom’s throat just above the collar. Then he looked up at Keegan, waiting.

Slowly Keegan raised his collar, setting it around his throat but not closing it. “Let him go, Darius, and I am yours. Kill him and you have signed your death warrant.”

“No!” Thom grabbed Darius’ wrist between his manacled hands, not to force the dagger away, but to draw it across his own throat. A thin line of blood appeared, trickling down beneath the collar.

Darius’ eyes left Keegan, landing on his prisoner as he tried to pull the blade back. That was all that Keegan needed. His flail was instantly in one hand, a broadsword in the other. The sword rose and descended, a glancing blow taking Darius across the shoulder as he spun back to face Keegan.

Darius merely scowled as he dropped the two chains. Keeping the dagger at the ready, he was suddenly holding a gladius in his other hand. “Do you truly think you can defeat me, a seasoned warrior, street-boy,” he sneered before lunging towards Keegan. As he did, he called over his shoulder to his accomplice, “Kill his lover.”

Coming Nov. 3rd - 'You Can't Change the Past'

You Can't Change the Past

(Phoenix Rising #3)

https://spsilverpublishing.com/product_book_info/coming-soon-c-2/products_id/878/

When an assassin plans the revenge killing of the Phoenix at a major business convention, his people must stop her. They too become targets, as she sets her sights on slaying them as part of her vengeance. With the assistance of a policewoman, Ginna Smith, and a crew of Vance's street kids, they set out to find and eliminate the assassin before she can do the same to them.

Much to everyone's surprise, Vance recruits Ginna for his team. She accepts and soon begins to see exactly what Vance is like. She is distressed by his vicious side yet still begins to care for him. When Vance meets her son, they bond, leading to a more personal interaction with Ginna. When someone begins to stalk Vance, he must do his best to keep Ginna safe before she too is targeted by his nemesis.
 
CONTENT ADVISORIES: This title contains both MM and MF scenes. It has a HFN ending.

* * * *

Excerpt:

Part One

 A Shattered Life

Chapter One

1990

"Vance Montgomery, get your ass in here right this minute," the voice roared.

Vance cringed, wishing he had the guts to just run. But his mother would find him, or if not she'd send her present boyfriend looking. And that would make things worse. Straightening his shirt, tucking it into his tattered shorts, he made his way across the browned grass and up the dirt path leading to the battered trailer that served as their most recent home.

He hesitated, trying to gauge from the tone of her shout whether he should face her down or be servile. As the trailer door swung open he stood as tall as his five foot five inch frame would allow.

"Yes, Mother," he said deferentially, hiding the fear he felt as she stood there holding an almost empty bottle of beer in one hand, her hair ratty and scraggly around her thin face.

"Where the hell have you been? School let out over an hour ago."

"I stayed after to do my homework." He scuffed the worn toe of one tennis shoe in the dirt.

"Boy, don't lie to me. You were off with those damned Power's kids getting into trouble."

Shaking his head he lifted his eyes to look at her. "I wasn't, I swear." Which was the truth as far as it went. He'd been with two other boys from his class trying to talk Mr Smith at the grocery store into giving them jobs for the summer. The man said he'd think about it.

Grabbing the doorframe with one hand to steady herself she took a long pull on her beer, tossing the empty bottle in the vicinity of the open trash barrel a few feet away. Then she grabbed his arm before he could back away, dragging him into the trailer.

"You know how I deal with liars, Vance?"

"Yes, Mother." His voice trembled and he took a deep breath before saying again, "I wasn't lying."

Her hand flew out, landing hard on the side of his face. "Give me your belt."

"Mother, please…"

Her grip tightened painfully on his arm. "It's the belt or the chain."

He fumbled with one hand to get his belt off. His mother snatched it from him, spinning him around, forcing him face first onto the sofa. He closed his eyes, praying the beating would be brief.

 

 

Caomhnóir - 39

As he drove north-west towards Galway, Keegan’s rage turned to an icy calm. When it did, and he was able to think again instead of just react, he realized there had been something more in to Darius’ message. Reaching down to retrieve it from where he thrown it on the passenger floor mat, he opened it one-handed. At the bottom were a set of numbers, co-ordinates if he didn’t miss his guess. He punched them into the GPS system that came with the vehicle. It took only a moment for it to tell him where he was to meet Darius.

He realized that he was to enter the city proper, and shuddered, pulling off to the side of the road because he needed to think. He knew from what he’d been told that his going into Galway would be virtually impossible for him. Unless—

He nodded slowly. The Geis was placed to keep him from entering Dún Bhun na Gaillimhe. What if that meant the part of Galway where he had grown up, inside what had later become the walled city. He studied the GPS map again, realizing that the spot Darius had chosen was at the foot of O’Brien’s bridge which crossed the River Corrib. At the far end of the bridge was the area that had, in his youth, been his home. Now, he knew, it was just another part of the modern-day city.

“Just be there Darius, with Thom,” he growled as he pulled back onto the highway.

It was just past two in the morning when he saw the lights of the city ahead of him. Steeling himself, he continued driving, following the highway until he could pull off onto the narrow city streets. As he did, he felt ever so slightly repelled, as if something was trying to force him to turn back. He knew it was the Geis beginning its work and did his best to ignore it. The closer he came to his destination the harder it became to do that, until for the safety of the few drivers around him he pulled to the side of the street and parked.

From there, he began to walk. If it weren’t for his love for Thom and the overpowering need to save him from Darius’ clutches, he would have run away, so powerful was the urge to do just that.

Finally, fighting the Geis with everything in him, he arrived at the foot of the bridge leading across the Corrib. By now it was close to three a.m. and the area was deserted, and dark except for a few street lights.

Then, from the shadows across the bridge, he saw Darius approaching, followed by a large man holding a chain. At the other end of the chain was Thom, his head bowed as much as possible considering the thick collar that encircled his neck. As they neared him, Keegan could tell that Thom’s hands were shackled as well. He growled in anger, stepping into the pool of light beneath a streetlamp.

Caomhnóir - 38

“Is there any city in Ireland that doesn’t have a castle?” Thom asked, looking across the river at one as they drove into Cork.

“I suppose there must be some,” Keegan replied with an amused glace at him. “Perhaps next time we come here we’ll make it a point to check out all of them. I believe there are well over three hundred.”

“That would, umm, keep us busy for a long while.”

“Indeed. For now however we need to find somewhere to put up for the night, and not in that castle.”

Thom laughed. “Please, not. Once was more than enough.” He watched the road ahead of them, wishing he still had his cell. It would have made finding a decent hotel or B&B easier. “There,” he said suddenly, seeing a B&B sign on a side street.

Keegan turned sharply, rolling his eyes. “A bit more warning please.”

“Sorry.”

Pulling to a stop in front of the building, Keegan parked and they went inside where they were greeted by a very pleasant woman who, as she checked the reservation book, told them she was the owner. When Keegan told her they’d like a room away from the street for the night she smiled, not seeming the least perturbed that he’d asked for only one. Once he’d paid, she gave him the keys, told him that there was parking in back and informed them that breakfast was provided as part of the services.

“But supper’s not,” Thom pointed out as they returned to the car. “I’m hungry and, quite frankly, we need to do a bit of shopping too for something to wear. I for one am tired of these jeans and shirt after more than twenty-four hours in them.”

“Then let’s take care of both problems before we go to the room.”

Two hours later they returned to the B&B after a swift spree of clothes buying and a very good dinner at a small bar and grill. Carrying their purchases to their room, they unpacked the various bags, hanging up the clothes.

“Be right back,” Thom said suddenly, picking up the keys when he realized he’d left one bag in the car.

“Just don’t get lost,” Keegan quipped as he watched his lover hurry from the room.

Ten minutes later he was wondering if his words had been prophetic when Thom still hadn’t returned. After another five had passed he was getting worried. Snagging the room key from where he’d tossed it on the dresser, he headed to the door. The sudden ringing of the phone stopped him and he hurried to answer.

“I have something that belongs to you,” a rough voice said. “A mutual friend suggests, and I quote, ‘If you want it back you return to the place where you bought it’.”

“That makes no sense,” Keegan exclaimed, to a dead phone. However as he thought about it he realized it did. The caller obviously worked for Darius, and being no fool, he couldn’t have the man say ‘the place where you died’. “Just what game are you playing now?” Keegan growled as moved quickly out of the room. “Damn it, Thom has the car keys,” were his next words to himself, as he took the stairs down two steps at a time. When he got to the car he found it sitting with the driver’s side door open, the keys in the ignition.

On the seat was an envelope. Tearing it open he found a message from Darius.

‘I have your boy. You know where to find him. It’s a trade off, you for him. I suggest you hurry if he means anything to you. I intend to have a great deal of fun with him until you turn up. – D.’

“Touch one hair on his head and you will die,” Keegan snarled as he slid into the car. Seconds later he was racing down the streets of Cork, heedless of his speed as he pointed the nose of the car towards Galway and violating of his Geis.

Caomhnóir - 37

As he watched the countryside pass, Thom finally asked, “Where are we headed now?”

“Down to Cork,” Keegan told him. “We should be there by evening. We’ll find a place to stay and fly out in the morning.”

“I never thought I’d say it, but I’ll be glad to get home.”

“As will I. This has been a most interesting trip, but a bit of peace and quiet is in order now. That is of course—”

“If Darius decides to behave once we get back.”

“Which one can only hope, since he’ll be well within Alasdair’s reach by then.”

Thom nodded. “I wish Alasdair would send him packing to, oh I don’t know, ancient Rome perhaps. Back where he came from. He can do his thing, maybe keep Antony from meeting Cleopatra, and we can go back to living relatively normal lives.”

Keegan chuckled. “As normal as it gets with me around.”

“I’m not complaining—too much,” Thom told him with a smile. “And once we find the out-clause in your contract we really can have a normal life.”

Keegan glanced at him, his visage turning serious. “Even if there is one, which I doubt, I don’t think I’d want to give up what I’m doing.” Returning his eyes to the road, he continued what he was saying. “I actually like the idea that I make a difference in the world. I know you think I’m a slave but it was my choice. I’m—I don’t know—perhaps at this point a willing slave?”

Thom chewed his lip, staring out the window as he contemplated what Keegan had said. “What if there really is an out clause, but you can still be what you are and do what you do?”

“Meaning?”

“I don’t know; maybe that you still answer to Alasdair but as an equal, and you don’t have to move around from century to century. God only knows there are enough troubles here and now that need Caomhnóir working on them, especially if the Scriostóir are behind them.”

“Very true. But that is not going to happen.”

“You sound quite certain of that.”

“Thom, I’ve been a Caomhnóir for nine centuries, moving back and forth as I’m needed.”

“Jumping at their beck and call. When do you get a life of your own?” Thom retorted angrily.

“I had that, and blew it. I killed an innocent girl while trying to save my own worthless life. I earned the consequences fair and square. Mar a gcuireann tú, déanfar amhlaidh tú bhaint as.”

“Would I be too far off the think that meant, ‘as you sow, so shall you reap’?”

“Spot on,” Keegan replied with a smile. “And that is the truth behind the Caomhnóir. We are men reborn. We seek redemption and a second chance at life; to paraphrase something that I read—somewhere.”

“Probably some wall in a men’s room in Paris during the Revolution,” Thom muttered.

Keegan chuckled. “As I remember, there were no such things back then.”

Taking a deep breath, Thom grinned. “Well there are nowadays, and I wish you’d quit putting my phone number up in them.” He moved as far away from his lover as he could to avoid Keegan’s swipe at him, more than happy that the serious mood had abated—for now.

* * * * * *

Mar a gcuireann tú, déanfar amhlaidh tú bhaint as - As you sow, so shall you reap.