Celtic Evil: A Fitzgerald Brother Novel: Roarke by Sierra Rose Page B

Roarke’s trembling wrist, and was shocked when
something physically shoved his hand away. “Roarke?”
    “Luv? It’s alright,”
Jessica had looked when something, a twinge in her head, made her
look up to see her friend’s eyelashes beginning to flicker. “Is he
waking up?”
    Kerry wasn’t sure since
something was still blocking him, but it wasn’t until his younger
brother’s eyes did open that he knew for sure. “Mac!” he snapped,
whirling to shove Cameron Young back from the bed.
    “Oh, well isn’t this just
perfect,” Mac swore, grabbing Jessica and pulling her back just as
she was going closer to help her friend, when Roarke’s normally
smoky gray-blue eyes opened to reveal pure black and he sat
straight up in the bed, restraints going away in a simple burst of
flame.
    “This is bad, isn’t it?”
Maggie Cavanaugh was asking Michael White who had come at her
shouting when Ian Fitzgerald had literally screamed as pain
bombarded his head and fell to the floor.
    The California-born native
wasn’t sure but had to figure given what they were involved with,
then it couldn’t be a good thing.
    “Ian! What happened?” he
was asking, getting word from his radio of varying things. “Shit!
Roy, keep the staff outta this! Adam, yell for Nick if the power
readings get worse and Bry, tell him to get up here!”
    Ian was still trying to
regain his balance but finally gave up and slumped to the floor,
his head down; images still vivid. “He’s here but he’s inside him,”
he was whispering. “He’s screaming!”
    “Who’s screaming, luv? What
do you hear?” Maggie asked gently, trying to get the young man up
to his feet but couldn’t budge him until a hand reached over her
and gave a quick pull that brought Ian to his feet and into a
chair.
    “Look at me, boyo.” The stern voice got
through his haze better than Maggie’s soft tones did.
    The boy and Maggie both
looked at the new arrival to see a well-tanned man with windswept,
almost unruly, long black hair, but his eyes were a sparking smoke
right then as he stared hard at this boy.
    It didn’t take Kerry’s more
natural gift of sight or scanning for Ryan to see what his youngest
brother did. That and the power he felt from down the hall told him
what he needed.
    “This hurts,” Ian
whispered, rubbing his head but nearly recoiling as strong fingers
gripped muscles in his neck and squeezed. “That’s
worse!”
    While the pain hurt, the
deep laughter he heard over it was more relaxing to him for some
reason that he couldn’t place.
    “A little pain or no gain
as the saying goes, baby brother,” Ryan replied, letting his hand
rub lightly and felt some of the boy’s pain ease away, then he shot
the woman a look, an instant read on her. “Stay with him, little
witch, and keep him away from that room.”
    Maggie never got a word in
edgewise with this one but didn’t try as he shot White a look
before heading down the hall, just as the whole building seemed to
shake.
    “Mike! Get the woman and
Ian outta here!” Ryan snapped, knowing this had gone way beyond
Kerry’s point of control. Hoping they could bring it back because
he knew he didn’t want to kill his brother this soon.
    “No, I can help,” Ian
started to argue but Maggie had grabbed his arm. Instead of pulling
it to leave, as he feared, she shoved a weathered old leatherbound
book at him. “What’s this?”
    “How we’re going to help,”
she replied, sitting down to begin sorting through pages to find
one she’d seen often as a child. One her Gran always had
marked.
    A sudden wind seemed to come in and blow the
pages until it stopped on one with a rough drawing of a medal and a
spell.
    “That works.” Maggie sighed
with a shaky laugh seeing the boy’s eyes had landed on the picture.
“We don’t have one of…”
    He unbuttoned three buttons
in order to move his shirt aside and show her the Claddagh medal
he’d had since childhood. “What’s the spell?”
    “Roarke!