The second in this paranormal/romantic suspense series about the Fitzgerald brothers as they seek to find a balance to their lives and stay alive as an ancient evil seeks to destroy them.
Sierra Rose Books
Ian Fitzgerald’s entire life is a lie. At eighteen, he’s attending University, has a loving foster family and dreams of becoming an actor. This fantastically normal life comes to a sudden halt when he learns the truth of his life.
From the day he was born he was a part of a prophecy made long ago, a prediction that had other plans for his seemingly normal life. He was to join with his four brothers in overcoming a deeply set malice that threatens to kill the Fitzgerald Five.
Held captive by the evil that tore his outwardly normal life apart, Ian discovers that those closest to him weren’t there by coincidence, but part of a larger plan to destroy the predictions made long before his birth.
Having witnessed his older brother Roarke’s completion of one portion of the prophecy and learning the truth behind the murder of his biological mother and father by the doings of the evil and deadly Sebastian, Ian realizes his fate and becomes active in achieving his destiny, fighting to protect not only his own life, but also the lives of his best friend and love interest.
“Sorry to disappoint you, Sybil, but Bridget’s out of harm’s way, where you will never harm her life as you’ve clearly been trying to harm mine.”
Ian Fitzgerald stepped into the main cavern after having dealt with several guards on his way in and removing three-year-old Bridget from danger.
Now as he stood there, his calm blue-gray eyes were darkening with emotion and power as he looked around. Slowly his eyes went back to the main altar where Molly was chained.
“Let her go,” he ordered firmly, seeming unaware of the odds against him as he felt for Molly and forced down his temper at what he felt.
Spreading his arms, he took two more steps down the center aisle with his gaze locked firmly on his former foster mother’s. “It’s me that you planned to sacrifice, so if you want me so bleedin’ bad then come on, take me,” he invited, thinking suddenly how much Mac would bitch over that comment and he smiled.
“That’s a silly mistake, my lad,” Sybil told him, still gripping the dagger firmly. “You should have stayed locked away in hiding so your brothers could protect you. Interfering in this will cost you not only your life but this Yank’s.”
“My brothers don’t protect me, Sybil,” Ian returned, knowing that cult members had closed in behind him. “Threaten me; don’t threaten my family, and you sure as bloody hell do not threaten Molly.”
Sybil sneered, jerking her head in command. “Kill him,” she snapped, jerking the knife to drive it down into her captive’s heart. “Kill them both so our Master will reward us!”
Even as Sybil Sullivan was issuing that command and robed cultists seemingly overtaken with a sudden bloodlust began lunging toward a young man they believed they could easily handle, Ian Fitzgerald had plans of his own.
Walking into a den of Satan lovers, Ian had known the risks would increase.
Of course, he also knew what Sybil’s people probably did not. His powers were a hell of a lot more than he’d let on, and he was gambling that would be his ace in the hole as Ryan would say.
Knowing that he had to time this move perfectly, Ian waited until the cultists that were surrounding him with knives and clubs had gotten closer to act.
Throwing one hand out to stop the blade plunging toward Molly Jackson’s heart, he whirled to lift his other and a burst of wind blasted from around the cavern.
The wind attack took several attackers away and gave Ian enough time to get close to the center altar while others struggled to regain their footing.
“I was top on the track team, mates, so let’s be serious,” he snorted, knowing that while his magic wouldn’t be as strong here, it would still work, and a stream of blue energy flew from his fingers to disable several other cultists until a choked cry drew his attention. “Molly!”
Sybil was quickly realizing that she’d underestimated the boy that she’d raised. Swiftly acting, she gripped the girl’s hair and placed the dagger to her throat.
“Stop, Ian, or I’ll slit her throat before you can cast another spell or get close enough to stop me,” she threatened, pleased to see that this got his attention. “Now, if you don’t want that, you’ll be a good lad and try not to struggle too much.”
Freezing in mid-step, he considered briefly if she was bluffing, but Ian knew Sybil too well and he knew that she never made threats.
“Damn it,” he swore, tensing as hands grabbed his arms to restrain him while pushing him toward Sybil. “Let her go. You have me. You don’t need Molly.”
Laughing softly, Sybil gently stroked his cheek as she moved the dagger slightly but kept it handy. “Ian, my silly boy, I fully plan on killing this little witch that you became attached to, but I want you to watch as I do it,” she explained, seeing the hate in his eyes. “Between her and your brothers, they’ve turned you against your family and that must stop. I’ll punish you later.”
Emotions flickered as memories resurfaced, but he forced them down as the medals he wore around his neck, including the one from Molly, warmed his skin and gave him strength.
As the two large men gripped his arms, they forced Ian to watch while Sybil ran the tip of the knife down Molly’s face.
“She’s aware that you’re here, you know,” she spoke to him, moving back so that Molly’s wide eyes could lock onto his. “She can speak to you if I allow her to.”
“Sybil, for God’s sake, stop this,” Ian pleaded, feeling the fear from his friend.
Laughter echoed from the cavern at his words. “Your God isn’t the one we seek to appease, lad,” Charles Douglas told him from the side. “Speak to the lad, girl. Speak your last words on this Earth to him as you die because of him.”
Molly did know that Ian was there. She’d felt his arrival long before he’d made his appearance known and she could feel his emotions now.
Accepting her death long ago didn’t make the moment any easier but she’d be damned if they’d make him feel guilt over it.
“Don’t…don’t let them win, Irish,” she whispered to him. “I…I’ll…love you always.”
“I know, muirnin (sweetheart),” Ian responded while holding her eyes for a long moment.
“Sleep, Molly,” he urged, straining in the grip of his captors. “Sleep and don’t remember the pain.”
Despite the drugs, slowly her eyes seemed to drift close so that whatever else happened, at least she wouldn’t have to see it occur.
“That was a sweet gesture, Ian, but it won’t save her,” Sybil remarked coolly, moving the dagger in her hand in a quick move to bring it down to plunge into Molly’s chest. “As you see, she still dies and our Master will be pleased with…”
The woman stopped and frowned. She expected the normal reaction after a sacrifice once the knife plunged into Molly, but nothing happened even though blood slowly began to appear from the wound.