Aidan nodded as he joined them. “Aye, the lass has always been partial to apples.”

Fergus shook his head as he left Shayne’s side to help with the search. “She doesn’t like the green ones, lads, unless they’re the sweet ones.”

Shayne rolled his eyes as he pulled up a chair next to Tristan, who was still unconscious, and said, “She can’t stomach raw apples when she’s pregnant. They have to be cooked.”

The brothers stopped mid-search to look his way.

“Are ye sure?” Fergus asked, frowning.

“Aye. Don’t ye remember the last time that she was pregnant? We had to take turns stealing pastries from the baker after Tadgh was killed,” he reminded them. In retrospect, that was probably a bad idea considering the fact that he’d broken their agreement after that incident and helped Tadgh, again….and again…..and this last time would make three times he’d helped Tadgh since he’d promised not to.

“You mean when we were all forced to watch Macha die from a broken heart……..again?” Liam asked, his glare moving from Tristan to him.

“He tricked me this last time,” Shayne bit out, which was true.

Tadgh had tricked them all into believing that he’d finally had enough and was going to leave Macha alone and give her the peace that she rightly deserved, but he’d lied. He’d led them all to believe that he needed time and space to get through finally letting her go and they’d all foolishly given it to him. Not that they’d quite believed him.

They’d kept a guard on Macha’s soul as best as they could and when they’d felt that she was ready to be born again they’d followed her soul. Once she’d successfully made it into the unborn fetus, they’d searched for Tadgh. They expected him to try and follow after her, but they never found him. For a couple of years they’d watched over Macha until they felt that the likelihood of Tadgh trying anything was slim.

The last time they’d checked on her, she’d been three years old. They all loved her and agreed that the temptation to interfere in her life and protect her was too much. To be honest, none of them had been able to stomach the idea of seeing her with someone else. She belonged with Tadgh. The problem was this goddamn curse that kept them all trapped in this never-ending cycle of bullshit.

Somehow they managed to walk away from Macha, wishing her the best and praying that Tadgh wouldn’t do something stupid like torturing himself by watching over her. Shayne couldn’t imagine being forced to watch over his soul mate and not being able to touch her, take care of her, and having to be forced to watch as another man took his place. Then again, he avoided his soul mate like the plague, so he really didn’t have to worry about torturing himself. Tadgh on the other hand….

Couldn’t stay away from Macha and they should have realized that their younger brother would have found a way to get past them. Shayne still wasn’t sure how Tadgh managed to pull it off without any of them finding out. It was only by pure luck that Shayne had discovered Tadgh living across the street from Macha all those years ago.

He still couldn’t believe how f**king stupid Tadgh had been to do it. What the hell had he been thinking? He knew what waited for him and he still did it, uncaring about the hell that he was going to put himself through. Eleven years without any type of protection or buffer from spirits too desperate for the lives that they’d lost to care about what they put a young child through was a dangerous way to live. To be honest, Shayne was still surprised that Tadgh hadn’t been killed or found himself locked up in a mental hospital by then.

“I’ll go get her some apple pastries,” Declean offered, stepping away from the counter to do just that.

“She’s partial to apple fritters,” Shayne suggested absently as a thought occurred to him. Then with a sigh and a muttered, “I’ll be right back,” he left the room.

When he materialized in Tristan’s room a few seconds later, he wasn’t entirely surprised to find Marty dressed, armed, and seriously pissed off. He wasn’t even surprised when she raised the large gun in his direction and aimed it directly where his heart had once beat.

What did surprise him, and apparently Marty as well if her high-pitched squeal was any indication, was the bloodied spirit of a man stumbling through her bedroom wall.

With a muttered, “Oh, shit,” Marty swung the gun in the direction of the spirit.

“Oh, my God! Don’t shoot!” the man cried, throwing his hands up into the air as he stumbled back away from Marty and making Shayne shake his head in disgust.

“Yer already dead, ye dumb bastard!” he snapped at the man as he turned his attention back to Marty, who he noted was turning an interesting shade of green.

“Don’t….d……don’t mo-“ she struggled to get out.

“Move?” Shayne finished for her with a helpless shrug.

He really wasn’t too shocked when she opened her mouth, definitely to tell him to f**k off, but instead clamped a hand over her mouth, muttered, “Oh, shit,” and ran to the bathroom. With a sigh, he followed her.

As Marty struggled to keep the gun aimed on him as she lost what was left of her dinner, he couldn’t help but smile. It had been a long time since he’d had the chance to spend any real time with her. Granted, having a gun aimed at his balls while her dinner made a second appearance probably wouldn’t qualify as quality time to most people, but he’d gladly take it.

He missed the nights they used to spend by the fire, long after everyone else had fallen asleep, talking and laughing while they pretended that everything would work out. If it hadn’t been for Tadgh, he probably would have made her his own. Their union wouldn’t have been based on romantic love, happily ever after and all that bullshit, but one of respect and friendship. There was no doubt in his mind that he never would have made her as happy as Tadgh could, but he would have kept her safe. Considering everything that had happened, maybe he should have done just that.

Chapter 27

“Stay where you are,” Marty said as she struggled to keep the gun aimed on the man in front of her when all she wanted to do was lie down, close her eyes and curl up into a ball in Tristan’s arms until the nausea and dizziness went away so that she could pretend that none of this had ever happened.

“How are ye feeling, lass?” the man asked softly, acting unconcerned about the gun currently aimed at his family jewels and probably for good reason, Marty realized.

“And if I shot you…..” she prompted, already having a good idea what the answer would be.

“It wouldn’t affect me at all, lass,” he said with a careless shrug.

With a sigh, she lowered the gun, noting that he didn’t seem to care one way or the other that the gun was no longer aimed on him, further confirming her suspicions. The man could disappear, move through walls and God only knew what else, so it didn’t exactly take a genius to figure out that her one and only weapon would be useless against him.

“Where’s my husband?” she asked, trying to mask her fear for Tristan.

She still couldn’t get over the sight of him being thrown across the room and slamming into the wall like that. He shouldn’t have been able to move after that, but somehow he’d managed to crawl towards her before he passed out. He had to be okay, he had to be, she told herself as she tried to remain calm.