Sought(130)

Mercifully, Mother L’rin shook her head. “If what you have told me is true, the bond between them is not complete. And it never can be.”

Deep frowned. “Why not? Other than the fact of Kat being…being poisoned?”

“The poison cannot seep though an incomplete or partial bond,” the old healer said. “And a Twin Kindred cannot form a complete bond on his own without his brother. Be at peace, Deep—you will not lose your twin as well as your lady.”

“I’ve already lost him. As surely as I’ve lost Kat. Lock hates me now and I don’t blame him.” Deep looked down at his hands. “Gods, how could I have been so stupid? So…so…”

“Prideful,” Mother L’rin finished for him. “You chose to withdraw yourself from the will of the Goddess. You refused to trust her when she brought a new female into your life.”

“You didn’t see her lying there,” Deep said in a low voice. “Miranda. Just lying there, her eyes open, staring at nothing. Dead. And all because of me.”

“I know about your past.” Mother’s L’rin’s voice was unexpectedly gentle. “It was a tragedy. But far sadder is the fact that you have cut yourself off so thoroughly that you could not see the lady Kat for what she truly is—a courageous female who would never take her own life.”

“She may wish to if the soul poisoning progresses much farther,” Deep said grimly. “I’m told the pain can be intense.” He pressed the heel of his hand to his eyes. “And it’s all my doing. Don’t you see, Mother? This is why I wanted to cut her from me in the first place—to spare her pain. But my plan backfired and made things worse. So much worse.”

“I’m sorry there is nothing I can do for you or for that sweet child you and Lock both care for so much.” Mother L’rin touched his shoulder gently. “Go home and make your peace with her and with your brother before the end.”

“Neither Kat or Lock is going to want to make peace with me.” Lock took a deep breath and stood up. “I bring them nothing but tragedy and pain—as I have always done.”

“You are a dark twin,” Mother L’rin said. “Your path is not the easy one, Deep.”

“No, it is not.” Slowly he turned to go. “I have been the worst kind of fool. Truly, I should be the one who is dying—not my little Kat. If I could give my life for hers, I would.”

“It is not for you to say who lives and who dies,” Mother L’rin said. “That is a task for the Goddess.”

“Maybe so,” Deep murmured. “But even the Goddess must recognize justice when she sees it.” He knew now what he had to do. He might not be able to heal Kat or stop her demise, but at least he could make a proper atonement for the role he had played in her death. It was only right.





Chapter Thirty-nine





“I’m sorry, Grandma. Really sorry.” Kat wiped away a tear that she couldn’t help shedding. As much as she was determined to stay positive, it was impossible to tell the woman who had raised her that she was about to die without tearing up.

“And you’re sure you can’t come back to Earth and see me?” Her grandmother asked in a quavering voice. She was crying too but also oddly calm.

She’s still in shock, Kat thought. She can’t really believe it. Well that makes two of us.

“I’m sorry Mrs. O’Connor, I know you want to see Kat but she needs to stay here on the Mother ship,” Liv answered for her. “She needs to have access to the special drugs that will help when she…when the poison…drugs that help,” she ended lamely.

Grandma nodded her silver-haired head. “I understand. And if you truly have such a short time, I won’t keep you. But I will say this—I love you, Kat. More than I can say.”

“I love you too, Grandma. Thanks for always being there for me after Mom and Dad split up.”

“They love you too, you know—your parents,” Grandma said. “They just never knew how to show it.”

That’s because they were too busy hating each other to show that they loved me. But Kat didn’t say it aloud—there was no point in bringing up bad memories at this point. “You tell them what’s happening and that I love them, okay?” she said.

Her grandmother nodded. “I don’t know how but…yes, I’ll try.”

“Thanks, Grandma.” Kat felt like she was about to burst into tears and she was afraid if she really started bawling, she wouldn’t be able to stop. She didn’t want to spend her last two days having a pity party. “I, uh, think our time is up,” she lied gently. “There are other people waiting to use the viewing room.”