Pursued(162)

“Oh yeah?” Merrick couldn’t help sounding skeptical because he was fucking skeptical. “So if you cared so much, why’d you let it happen?”

Your pain was necessary if you were to understand the female I meant for you to have.

Merrick’s wounded heart gave a thump. “You mean…Elise?”

Indeed, my child. If you had not endured grief as great as hers, Elise would never have trusted you.

Merrick thought of the horrible memories he and Elise had shared with each other in the Deep Blue and knew it was true. If he hadn’t been wounded to the core and she hadn’t seen it, she never could have accepted his empathy and love. Never could have trusted him with the true story of her past.

“I get it,” he said at last. He coughed again and spat blood, wincing as the jagged ribs stabbed his side. “But why are you telling me this now, when it’s too late?”

I say to you again, Warrior, you shall not die. I am not often able to interfere directly in the lives of my children. But every now and again, I am permitted to make an exception.

Suddenly, a pale golden mist gathered at Merrick’s feet and engulfed him. At first it was simply warm, then almost hot. But the heat seemed to bring healing. Or at least, an easement of the agony he’d been suffering. There was a faint chiming sound—as though the most glorious music imaginable was playing just out of earshot—and then Merrick smelled something wonderful—a scent that was lush and delicious and completely alive all at the same time.

Something moved in his wounded legs—it felt as though invisible hands were setting the bones painlessly back in place. He gasped in surprise and drew in a double lungful of the golden mist. It promptly went to work inside him and as he watched, the caved in side of his chest popped back out, like a balloon inflating.

Last but not least, he felt all the minor burns and lacerations on his face being healed. The mist lingered along the twisted white scar on his face but he didn’t feel the healing tingle this time.

I could heal your scars as well, he heard the Goddess murmur as the mist dissipated. But Elise loves them as she loves you. She would be sorry to see them go. Rise, Merrick, you are whole.

Slowly, still not quite believing what had happened, he got to his feet. His legs worked, he wasn’t bleeding from anywhere. Most importantly, it didn’t hurt when he breathed.

“I’m well,” he said, wonderingly, taking a deep breath and letting it out with relish. “You healed me. You fucking healed me! Uh, I mean…” He coughed. “Thank you, Mother of All Life. And please forgive my language.”

You are forgiven. He thought he heard a hint of laughter in her voice.

“But why?” Merrick asked uncertainly. “I mean, why me?”

When you were on Rageron, in the Deep Blue, you prayed to me. You made a request—the first you made since before your mother died. Do you remember what it was?

At first he couldn’t but then his eyes widened. “Yeah, I do. But why—?”

Watch. Suddenly the golden mist formed again but this time it showed an image. As he watched, Merrick’s mismatched eyes narrowed and his hands closed into fists at his sides. A low, protective growl rose in his throat and he leaned forward, as though he could reach into the mist and stop what it showed by will alone.

Then the vision dissipated as quickly as it had formed.

Elise needs you now—urgently, the Goddess told him. Go to her. Before it is too late.





Chapter Forty-one




“’Scuse me, Miss Elise, but you got a visitor down here with a whole bunch of flowers.” The soft, drawling voice of Barney, the ancient doorman at Elise’s downtown apartment building, came clearly through her intercom.

James, she thought in exasperation. Couldn’t he even give me an hour before he had to come after me? But she knew the answer to that—her ex-fiancé was nothing if not persistent, especially when large sums of money were involved. And that’s all I am to him, she thought bitterly. Just a large sum of money he doesn’t want to see float out of his reach. Well too bad, James, this little wad of cash is gone.

Resolutely, she pressed the intercom button. “Tell him to leave, please, Barney. I’m not seeing anyone.”

There was a soft, indistinct mutter of male voices and then Barney replied.

“Sorry, Miss Elise, but he’s real persistent. Says he just wants to come up and tell you how sorry he is. You oughta see these flowers—they’re real purty.”

Elise ground her teeth. She’d always kind of thought it was cute what a hopeless romantic Barney was, despite his age. He was like a secondary character in a romantic comedy, going out of his way to get the two star-crossed lovers together. But right now she found his meddling annoying in the extreme.