He was finally someone else, finally himself, strong, proud of who he is, led by the past, fighting for the future. He found his hope, he found that which he could not reach, and he held her in his arms. She was his future, his past, and his present.

Wakefulness came in small pleasant degrees. Sara opened her eyes to find herself in Ians arms before the fire in their room. He was sound asleep head leaned back against the chair. She reached up and played with his beard, it was getting straggly, although she liked the way it felt on her skin this way. She raised up slightly and pressed her lips to the hollow beneath his chin, then to one side
of his neck, then the other, she was rewarded by a soft groan and the bobbing of his Adams apple. “Do not stop now, Sara.”

His soft voice ran a thrill up her spine, it was also a challenge and she was ready to take it. She the tip of her tongue up the side of his neck to his ear lobe which she nipped lightly delighting in his sharply indrawn breath. She unbuttoned his shirt and scored his chest with her nails as she explored his ear. He shivered in response but did not move. She rather liked his passivity
and wondered just how long this would last. She sat up in his lap and ran her hands through his hair. She kissed his forehead, his temples, each eyelid, and then the bridge of his nose. She pulled away to find herself staring into hot caramel eyes. He smiled slightly, it was the same smile he wore this first time she had seen him. Magnificent, isn’t it? She loved that smile, innocent, fascinated, omnipotent. She licked his slightly parted lips then she ravaged his mouth with a forceful intense kiss.

His only response what a groan deep from his chest and the tip of his tongue meeting hers. She leaned back to look at him again, “I never did get to have my way with you in London.”

His eyebrows rose, “you had me that night.”

Several times actually, she thought grinning, “yes, but I never had my way with you. Understand?”

“Not really but I am intrigued.” He could deny her nothing.

He had just granted her full control and they both knew it. Sara turned towards the fire eyeing the bearskin rug that lay in front of it. She climbed off his lap and pulled him out of the chair. “Strip and lie down on the rug.”

“I thought you said that rug gave you the creeps?”

She glanced down at the gaping mouth with its yellowed teeth then at the soft three inch chocolate brown fur. “It still kinda does but there is this flashback I have of us before a fire making love on a bed of furs and it has been tormenting me for quite a while now.” She pointed to the rug, “soooooo, you, me, rug, now.”

Never taking his gaze from hers he shrugged out of his shirt letting it whisper to the hardwood floor. He slipped his Nikes, then his socks, he lost a bit of his nerve as he unbuckled his belt. Blushing furiously he let out what Sara reckoned to be a apprehensive giggle.

“You waiting for me to flash some dollar bills?” Now he looked puzzled and embarrassed. She should have guessed he would have no idea what she meant. “Come on, you’re almost there,” she coaxed. His shyness was charming at times but like his overprotectiveness it could get old. She sidled up to him and pulled his belt from its loops then hooked her index fingers just inside his waistband and pulled him to her. She kissed his mouth chastely and stepped away. “Now the
pants.”

Taking a deep breath he unbuttoned the fly of his jeans and slid them down his hips and kicked them aside, then did the same with his boxers. He looked at Sara expectantly. She nodded towards the rug, then slapped him on the ass when he walked past her to the rug. She was rewarded with a sharp gasp. Ian knew at that point he was in way over his head. He decided to feign confidence so he laid prone on the rug his hands behind his head propping on the bear skull in what he hoped looked like a relaxed pose.. “I am your to do with as you will, my lady.”

“Is that a promise?” She asked with a glint in her eyes.

“Are you not a bit overdressed, my love?”

Sara pursed her lips considering his question, she stripped down slowly, teasingly his eyes roamed over her svelte physique. She struck a pose for him, “Better?”

“Much. Why don’t you join me,” he nodded staring at her erect nipple, “it is much warmer here beside the fire and you look a bit chilled.”

“In a minute, I have something I need to get.”

He watched with interest as she walked over to the dresser. He could not decide which view he liked better, her going or coming. “What do you have there?”

She held out a small brass flagon, “almond oil. Arraine left it she said it was wonderful for massage. She thought we might need it after the long drive here.”

She sat the flagon on the hearth, allowing her hair to brush across his body.  He straightened and looked him up and down. Her perusal amused him, inflamed him. “Like what you see?”

“Most definitely but I have a conundrum....”

“What would that be? Perhaps I could be of some aid.”

“Head to toe or toe to head? Where to begin?” She let out a sultry laugh as his erect shaft jerked and hardened even more in response to her query.

He grinned wickedly, “how about you start in the middle?”

“You’d like that wouldn’t you?” she purred.

“Mmmhmmm.” He was quickly warming to this game.

“Not gonna happen, sorry baby, you are in for a wicked amount of torment.” She tested the temperature of the oil on her palm, “perfect.” She poured a bit on well toned and chiseled abs, she reveled in his hissing breath. She knelt at his feet and covered her palms with oil. She took his foot in her strong hands and began a deep massage. Ian sighed gripping fistfuls of fur in his hands. She
worked on one foot then the other, slowly she began her path up his sinewy calves alternately kissing and tonguing him before her hands reached their destination. He tensed as she slid between his legs. She sat up pouring more oil over his rock hard thighs. She pressed deeply into his muscles almost to the point of pain. After throughly exploring them, she circumvented his hard manhood
and ran her hands across his stomach and up his chest. As she kneaded and tickled his abs, she blew on his member. Her hands on his body was sheer torture. He lifted his hips slightly when her
breath brushed over his aching penis. And he writhed as she licked the drop of  moisture from his tip. “Sara,” he ground out between clenched teeth. Her answer was to take him fully in her mouth. Her teeth scraped down his length sending tingling spires of fire throughout his body. She cupped his testicles as she sucked him. His hips raised off the floor arching towards her mouth. Sara
continued this torment until he was near the brink. She kissed his chest, laving his nipples, running her tongue over one then the other. She worked his shoulders and his arms as she took his mouth in a ferocious kiss.

By the time Sara reached his mouth she was quivering in need. She could feel herself fairly dripping. She raised herself up and took him in her hand, guiding him into her. They both gasped with relief as she impaled herself on him. He gripped her hips, grinding her against him. She rode him hard sliding up and down him faster and faster until they were both near the brink. He stopped her as she rose above him leaving him just at her wet opening. The heat in their  gazes was unimaginable and his eyes never left hers as he held her there suspended, then pulled her to him violently as he slammed his hips up to meet hers. The waves of desire quickly overtook them both and they called out each other’s names before she fell on top of him, exhausted. He wrapped his arms around her before they fell asleep. Sara woke curled up to Ian, at some point they made it from the rug to the bed but she didn’t remember when. She shifted slightly and he countered by tossing a leg rolling half on top of her. She laughed softly as he snuggled closer to her.  Who would believe that a top-notch assassin was a cuddler.  “Morning,” he murmured into her hair as she took his hand and inspected his ring.

“Morning yourself. Did Arraine tell you anything more about this ring?”

“No, I’ve got a lot of questions for her. The ring, how they knew about Irons, who foretold this prophecy, what all do they know about the Witchblade,” he yawned and stretched like a sunning tiger.

They were both quiet for a moment enjoying the stillness of the morning lost in their own thoughts.

Ian broke the silence, “do you think they understand that I do not hold any grudge against them?”

She brushed a lock of hair out of his eyes, “Baby, they will always feel guilty for leaving you for Irons.”

“But,” he protested.

“Ian, could you have ever forgiven yourself if you delivered Karen Bronte’s child to him even if years later she forgave you?”

“I would die before I allowed that to happen.”

“You very nearly did,” she reminded him solemnly.

“I do not have the strength that either of them have that would let me give up an innocent child unless it were in his or her best interest.”

The image of him with those kids in the Mid East flashed in Sara’s mind.

“We were ordered to leave them in that bunker. I disregarded that order and the entire unit was punished up our return.”

Her eyes traveled down his chest to the burn scars along his ribs. “It was well worth it. Coming to their aid made me reclaim something I lost during my time in the Black Dragons, my humanity. The drugs stole that from me, from us.” Her stomach growled loudly breaking the moment. He grinned, “lets get you fed, you burned quiet a few calories last night.”

Sara blushed remembering everything they had done last night. “I want a shower.”


“Me too, race you.” He bounded out of the bed and dashed in the bathroom or water closet as Arraine called it. She followed after him shivering in the cold air.

Much later they made their appearance downstairs. Neither Arraine nor Culhcain could be found but there was a note on table beside a plate of scones.

Children,

We will be back later this afternoon. Explore the grounds, I am sure you can
find a lovely spot for a picnic.

Love,
A

“Sounds like a splendid idea,” Ian said between bites of a buttery scone. “I want to show you the gazebo.”

Ian led her through the vine covered archway that led to the formal garden. Sara had never seen so many flowers in her life. “This is amazing. I can’t imagine this place in the spring.”

They followed the winding path Arraine led him down last evening. Around the bend he knew was an area filled with topiary creatures. He had not seen them very well in the shadows.
“Wow.” They both stood in awe. A giagantic topiary dragon lay curled up, surrounded by faeries, unicorns, pegesus, and other mythical creatures.  “Culhcain did all this?”

“He did. I can not imagine the hours and patience it took to carve these. I  watched Masters in Japan work on sculptures like these, they studied the art for years and never achieved results like this.”

“How long did you live in Japan?”

“Five years.”

“You never answered my ninja question.”

“You can see the roof of the gazebo from here.”

Sara laughed and pushed him as they walked, he could be so evasive sometimes. “I  get it I get it, A secret society thing.”

“It has fallen into some disrepair, I may try to fix it while we are here. A tree fell on the roof during a storm last year.”

“I think that would be a wonderful idea.” It was a large open air building, covered with ivy and climbing roses. Wind chimes hung for each of the four directions. Crystals and prisms dangled from the perimeter of the roof shooting mini rainbows in everywhere. Sara was enchanted. Some of the railings were broken and there were holes in the roof but it wouldn’t take much to repair it.

“Arraine said it was her favorite place.”

“I can see why.”

“Shall we explore a bit?”

They played around wandering the grounds most of the morning then returned to the house to make a picinic lunch. “Let’s go over to the hammock.” They had found a small dell in sight of the gazebo. An oversized woven hammock hung between two ancient gnarled old oaks. Ian spread a blanket on the ground and after eating their lunch Sara streatched out in the hammock. She patted the cloth. Ian obediently climbed in beside her. Sara wrapped her arms around him. He pulled on the rope attatched to a post, putting the hammock in action. Snuggled together swaying in the breeze they napped. Sara opened her eyes lazily to find a woman standing over them. The woman stared at Ian, reaching a hand out to touch him then quickly pulled it away. She smiled a sad smile. It was then Sara realized she could see the gazebo through her. She pinched Ian’s side. Wake up.

“Hmmmm? Ouch.”

Open your eyes.

He complied and started when he saw the woman above them. “Hello.”

She smiled sweetly at him and evaporated.

He looked up at Sara, “we will have to ask Arrraine who that was.”

She looked at him shaking her head. Was he serious? “Baby, that was your mother.”

“Maybe.” He hopped up and began packing the picnic basket. “I need to speak with Arraine.”

Arraine was laying out herbs on screens to dry when they entered the kitchen. “Hello, loves. Have was your day?”

“Won...” Sara began but Ian interrupted.

“I want to see a photograph of my mother.”

Arraine stopped what she was doing and looked him in the eye, “you saw her didn’t you?”

“I think we saw her.”

“I know we saw her. It was her I know it.” Sara said emphatically.

“Come into the study, I don’t wish to open any moldy old tomes around those herbs.”

The desk was a curved executive desk with places for several chairs, Ian sat in the center on Sara to his left. Arraine leaned over them reverently placing the photo album in front of them. “Go on Ian, open it.” Arraine and Erin as children covered the first few pages. “I think you can skip a few.” He turned several pages over and gasped at the photo. It was a stunning picture of Arraine and
Erin. “That was the woman. That was my mother. Why didn’t she stay?”

“She is at a point in her transcendence that makes it difficult to remain in corporeal form for long periods of time.”

“She is trying to make it to the next level isn’t she?”

“Yes”

Ian pointed to a group photo containing his mother, Arraine, Culhcain, a grizzled look man that seemed familiar, “Who is that man?’

“That is the Prophet Lazar”

Sara took a closer look at him, “that’s the guy at my gym. He was there when you fought Mobious in the tunnels, he was an eye witness saying you caught bullets in your bare hands. He was at Danny’s funeral. He’s everywhere.”

“I have seen him as well.”

“Relax, he watches over you protects you. He orchestrates all these events that have been proclaimed by the goddess to be true. He is her vessel. We are all pawns of time and slaves of the powers we hold naturally, the Witchblade is both your shield and your cross to bear, for the wielder and the guardian.”

“Those are the gypsy camps. That is Gregor, your father. You have his bone structure and hair.”

“My father...I do resemble him a bit. But I think I look more like you Arraine.”

“You have your mother and my eyes.”

“It is difficult to believe you were twins.”

“We always joked about her being the light and I was the dark. Such a gentle creature was not meant for this world.”

“Who is that woman?” Ian pointed to a plump woman standing near a rose bush.

“Megan, our cook, when we still had a staff.”

“She was also Irons cook. She was the reason he kept me. She wanted me. She named me.” Memories flooded back to him in jagged visions.

“Gregor and Erin named you, love before you were born.”

Perhaps Lazar could have taken her there to oversee your progress. Make sure he kept you. We were not aware of her involvement. We dismissed the staff long before you were born.”

Ian was assailed with visions, “I can not make sense of them all.” Sara put a hand on his shoulders and was pulled in as well.

Arraine slammed the photo album on the table, jerking them both away from the emotions and images. “Follow me, we shall sort through this.” She led them into a small room. “Ian sit, place your hands on the crystal ball.” He complied and she placed her hands over his. “Close your eyes, focus on your last memory of us. What do you see?”

“Culhcain walking away.”

“Hold that image in your mind, project it to the crystal.”

Sara watched in amazement as the crystal began to glow a vibrant white light.  Arraine took his hands in hers and extracted them from the crystal ball. She held them in hers and either side of the it. “Now, child, let the images flow, we will make sense of them.”

Ian shivered at the memory. “It is cold, I am sitting on the curb watching Culhcain’s coat disappear in the throng of people. They walk past me, no one notices me. I curl up to try and stay warm when a man kicks me and falls. He jerks me up asking where my parents are, then he gives me to the driver, telling him to get me cleaned up and find out who I belong to. The driver takes me back to a mansion. He dumps me in the kitchen with a short explanation and the same
orders Irons gave. Megan takes me cleans me up, she feeds me and plays with me.  She convinces the butler if they can not find my parents that he will ask if she may keep me. Irons is angry when he sees me in the library but is intrigued when they tell him I am gypsy. He allows Megan to keep me. She tells me to stay out of the Master’s way but be respectful if I see him. I am at the kitchen table with Megan when I hear someone call me. Then the voice tells me to go to the library. Neither Megan nor the serving girl notice it, the voice calls again, louder, more insistent. I go. He is standing in the shadows watching. When I enter, he eyes me curiously then leaves. He repeats the process several times over the next few days. Calling me, projecting to me. One day he calls me but Megan is calling me as well, I project back to him that I can not play now, Megan is looking for me. Two days later we flew to the US.”

Arraine released his hands. “That is enough.”

“I remember more,” he reached for her hands.

“Of that I have no doubt, but you are not used to such intensive regression. Go and lie down.”

Ian stood, Sara had to grab his shoulders to steady him. Arraine nodded a bit weakly. “I think I’ll go lie down as well.”

Later that night Sara made her way back downstairs. She found Arraine staring at the photo album. “Are you alright?”

She smiled up at Sara, “I am fine my dear, just revisiting times passed.”

“Any pictures of Ian in there?”

“No, no photos, but there may be some sketches in Culhcain’s book.” She slipped out of her chair and out of the room before Sara could speak. She returned just as quickly carrying a massive book. She sat beside Sara and opened the book revealing charcoal drawings. There was a breathtaking one of Erin, looking back over her shoulder waves of flaxen hair falling down her back, a winsome smile on her face. Arraine ran her hand just over her face, “our beautiful golden Erin.”

The detective in Sara did not miss the slight hint of jealously in her voice. “I love my sister, Sara. For all her weakness and fragility, she was a siren. She loved life, she absorbed it, but it passed through her like water through a sieve. Men were drawn to her power which was hidden as innocence. Culhcain was not immune, though his devotion to me outweighed his enchantment with her. Gregor, for all his cleverness and shrewdness was not immune and neither will Ian. Her judgement when she was alive, at times was questionable at best. I can not imagine some of the temptations offered to her in next realm.”

Sara wasn’t sure she understood what Arraine was trying to tell her. “What exactly are you saying?”

“Just because she is his mother, is no reason to trust her intentions. She will manipulate him if it beneficial to her, its her nature. Good night, sweet.”

“Night?” Sara sat still trying to make sense of it all. She flipped through the drawings, she found the sketches of Ian near the end, all eyes and wavy hair.

She closed her eyes, when she opened them Danny was sitting Indian style on the table in front of her. She squelched a scream.

”Sorry, pard didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Long time no see.”

“Yeah, I’ve been around. You haven’t needed me much lately.”

“I’ll always need you, partner. I miss you.”

“I know.”

“What the Hell did she mean?”

“Pez, you should realize by now after wearing that,” he pointed to the Witchblade, “you should know that people are rarely good or evil. That there are shades of each in everyone. She was more etheral than human.” He smiled, “tell hubby I said hey.”

“I will, but...” And he was gone. “Damn, Danny.”

Ian was still sleeping when Sara crawled into bed beside him. She loved watching his sleep, he looked very much like the child of Culhcain’s sketches when he slept, so innocent. She had an impending sense of doom when Ian found out more about his parents. There was something more than Arraine was telling them, Sara suspected she was sheltering Ian from some of the more unpleasant aspects of Erin’s nature. She sighed, time will tell. She just hoped it didn’t hurt him. He shifted in his sleep, murmuring her name, she curled against him laying her head on his chest, finally she slept.




Jake McCarty stood before Kenneth Irons cursing his bad luck. Ever since that unfortunate incident on the Regional Director’s desk with a woman who had turned out to be his wife, his golden boy existence had been tarnished. He barely kept his job, when the White Bulls case turned up the RD gave it to him gleefully. Law enforcement had codes of conduct, an unspoken agreement, you didn’t turn fellow officers in. He would be a pariah among his brethren upon finishing the assignment. Now, as further punishment he was assigned to Kenneth Irons
indefinitely under the guise of national security. Being a billionaire with a ties to the government must has its advantages, he thought ruefully.

“I need you to find this man and bring him to me.” Irons handed him a portfolio.


Jake looked at the grizzled appearance of the subject. “Hey, I know this guy.”

“His name is Lazar.”

“He was a witness in the Black Dragons case, “ Jake scoffed, “said Nottingham caught the bullets in his bare hands, like anyone can do that.”

“He can. It is the simple principle of mind over matter, anyone with training and disciple may do it.”

What was it will Nottingham, Jake thought, everyone just fawns over the guy, he’s a freaking hired killer, creepy, and nuts. Sara married him, Irons mourned his loss, the Bowman kid was protecting him, and even Vicki Po liked him, of course he could see Vicki and Nottingham, she worked with dead people. He snickered at his own joke.

Kenneth Irons stared at the blonde man with contempt.

Jake noticed his glare, “so, where am I suppose to find this guy? And what do you want with a vagrant?”

“You are the detective aren’t you?”

Disgusted Jake flopped down in a chair. “It’s a big city. I thought you might have some idea where I should start.”

Kenneth stared at him until he sat up straight in his chair. Young imbecile.

“Look, I’ve said it before I am not your new lapdog.”

“You are, Jake McCartey, what I say you are. I have owned you since the day you had sex with your bosses wife on his desk. Despite you ineptness, you can be useful.”

“If I’m so inept, why don’t you just hire another Nottingham?”

“It took decades to train, Ian, to hone him to perfection. Go, find Lazar.”



Sara watched with fascintation as Ian finished his Kata in the garden. He had gotten the sword in London, just a cheap knock off. She’s have to get him a new one for his birthday, or rather an old one. Aromatic smells drifted from the kitchen, Arraine was fixing a huge breakfast since none of them ate supper last night.

“Breakfast in five minutes,” Arraine called.

“Five minutes, Ian,” Sara grinned as he nodded, never breaking focus.

He finished up his routine and joined Sara and Arraine in the kitchen, “where is Culhcain?”

“He went up to the high pasture to bring down the horses. I thought you two would like to join us for a ride.”

Ian’s eyes glowed with excitement, “yes.”

“Sara?”

“I’ve never ridden anything without an engine but I’ll give it a shot.”

“Good, Ian have you ridden lately.”

“Not in this life.” He smiled.

“I doubt either of you will have a problem.”

“What types of horses do you have?” Ian asked quietly, trying to mask some of  the anticipation in his voice.

“Andalusians.”

“Really?” Ian could barely contain himself, he was like a little boy.

Sara and Arraine shared a glance, both shook their heads. “What do they look like?” Sara didn’t know a lot about horses.

“Chargers.”

“Those great big horses knights rode?” Sara was beginning to think this wasn’t such a great idea.

“If you two are finished, I think we should join Culhcain before Sara changes her mind.” She patted Sara on the back, “they are gentle souls, dear.”


They walked the short distance to the corral. Culhcain stood currying a large dun stallion, a dozen or more horses pranced paddock. Several of the magnificant beasts nickered a greeting. “He’s ready for you my dear,” he slapped the horse on the rear end, it made short work of the space between him and Arraine. She laughed as he nuzzled her.

Ian looked at Sara grinning. “Just look at that black over there.”

“That the one you want, lad?”

Ian nodded. “Then go get him.”

Culhcain tossed Ian a halter and lead rope then turned to Sara. “Your choice?”

“Uhhhh.” She had no idea how to choose.

“She’ll take, Guivre.” Arraine stated as she tossed a saddle on her horse. “He’s a sweet gelding with an easy stride, you can learn on him. I see Ian has chosen Draco.”

It was a sight to behold, him leading a massive black dappled stallion towards them. “You will have to show me about the tack.”

Finally mounted, the four rode off over the moors. Sara slowly got her “horse-legs” as Culhcain called them. It took Ian a split second after mounting Draco before the age old bond between horse and rider sung through his veins.

Arraine pulled up next to him, Tarasque could use a good run, care to race? You two joining us?”

Sara shook her head, “I think I’ll wait this one out. You two have fun.”

“I’ll drop the feather, dear.” Culhcain took a handkerchief out of his pocket to his place in front of them, “when this hits the ground, ride hell bent, lad, cause she will not back down, to the bridge and around.”

The milisecond the fabric hit the dirt they were off. Both horses were evenly matched, at times Arraine led and at times Ian did. “Now that’s a sight to see. Dinna take him long to rmember.”

“I take it he rode when he was lttle.”

“I took him once, he never forgot. I had to sneak out the door when he wasn’t looking. If he spotted me he’d look up at me with those big amber eyes and hold up his arms.”

“Hard to resist, huh?” Sara could imagine.

“Hard? Try impossible.” He shook the memory away. “You want to try and catch up a bit.”

Feeling a bit more confidant in her abilities, she nodded. They eased from a trot to a lope. She and Culhcain met the two racers as they galloped back from the bridge, Ian was leading slightly. Sara was struck dumb by the sight of him.

Horse and rider were one, Ian leaned over Draco’s neck, Draco’s shoulder length thick mane billowing around him. The Witchblade glowed warmly taking her back to Cathain, racing with Ian along a river their mounts much the same as the ones they rode today.

Ewan raced ahead of her jumping a stone fence, she followed, his mount stumbled and he was thrown. She leapt from her steed, running to him, “Are you alright?”

He shook his head slowly wincing in pain, “bruised pride, a headache. How is Drac?”

She glanced at Drac who was holding his right foreleg at an odd angle. She knew how much the Charger meant to the former knight.

“Cathain?”

“Ewan, I doubt there is much we can do for him. I am sorry.” He attempted to sit up, she stopped him. “No, dear friend, I will see to him.”

She examined the handsome animal, the leg was broken, he would have to be destroyed. The stallion had saved Ewan’s life many times in battle. He had trained him from a colt. She did not wish to tell him this. She rubbed his noble head. “I’m sorry my sweet.” She returned to Ewan’s side, his eyes were closed, she brushed his hair out of his eyes.

He looked up at her, “it is broken?”

“Yes. Do you want me to...”

“No, my folly caused this, I must finish it.”

“Ewan, we have taken that fence a thousand times, it was an accident.” He would never forgive himself for this. She helped him to his feet. He shrugged her off and limped over to Drac. Deciding to give them stop me space, she began dragging up fallen limbs for a pyre. She then piled fat wood and grass upon the litter.

By the time she was done Ewan slowly led Drac to the litter leaning against the giant black Frisian supporting him. She could see tears glistening in his eyes. “Thank you, My Lady.” She nodded, placing her hand on his shoulder.

Cathain rubbed Drac between his intelligent black eyes, scratching under his thick forelock, his favorite itchy spot. “Goodbye old boy, I’ll miss you.”

Drac complied as Ewan gave the command to lie down, with his and Cathain’s help he was able to do so with a minimal amount of pain. Ewan whispered his apology as he drew a sharp dagger from his belt slitting Drac’s jugular. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders as Drac slipped quietly from this world. Both knelt on one knee honoring the great battle horse then moved away. Ewan pulled a flint from his pocket and lit the pyre.

“Sara? Sara?” Culhcain shook her from her vision.

“Sorry,” she wiped away the tears that streamed down her face. “Visions.” She raised the Witchblade as if in explanation.

Ian and Arraine pulled their mounts to a short stop in front of Sara and Culhcain. Ian was laughing. “I won Sara, did you see?”

“I saw. Having fun are you?”

"I am.” He noted the sadness in her eyes and urged Drac closer to her. “What is wrong love?”

“We’ll be back at the house, you two enjoy yourselves.” Arraine and Culhcain rode away quietly.

“I had a vision. It was sad.”

He dismounted and she did the same, they walked the horses into the forest. “Do you wish to tell me?”

“It was of Cathain.” He was so happy and free she did not want to spoil the beautiful day.

“Oh,” Concobar he thought to himself.

She read his face, “no, it was us. Long after Concobar,” she smiled remembering, “you had a bit of grey in your hair and beard.”

“And that made you sad?”

“No, your horse stumbled and threw you....”

“Drac, I tried jumping a stone wall, his leg was broken.” He remembered the valiant steed burning on the pyre. Her arms around him trying to be of some comfort. “You were angry with me because I refused to ride home with you. You followed me on horseback as I walked home.”

“We were lovers in that lifetme then?”
 
“No, just friends. As a reward for my years of loyal service, I was given the lands adjoining yours. We spent a great deal of time together but no, we were never lovers.”

“Because I still loved him?”

“Because you never got over his betrayal.” He caressed her face. “I was content just to spend time by your side.” He kissed her gently.

They walked through the woods along a small river towards the bridge. The Witchblade roared to life. Sara saw a man fighting with a woman on the bridge, a small child ran from the car and hid behind some bushes. “Ian, come on.” They mounted the horses and reached the bridge in time to hear two gunshots, the car rolled slowly over the edge falling into the river. It submerged slowly. As they got there Ian leapt off Draco and dove into the frigid water. Sara went in search of the child. Ian fought the car door finally opening it, he pulled the woman out. Half the man’s head was blown off. He swam with her to the shore and began CPR as soon as he got her out of the water. “Sara. I need you,” he yelled.

His patient was not responding, he ventured a glance in Sara’s direction seeing her with a child in her arms. He did not want the child to see this, blood poured from the woman’s chest. “Stay there.”

Sara sheltered the small girl in her arms. Wide green eyes stared vacantly, she was no doubt in shock. She crooned unintelligible words into the curly auburn hair. “You’re safe now sweetie. I won’t let anyone hurt you.“ She watched as Ian performed CPR, it was a valiant effort but there was no doubt in her mind that the woman was dead. She held the girls head over her shoulder so she could not see, “Ian, it’s over.”

He hung his head in defeat, shoulders slumped. Sara wanted to hold him. “You tried baby.” He was shivering. “You ride back to the house for help, I’ll stay here. You need to dry off and get warmed up.”

Culhcain rode up, “what happened? We heard gunshots?”

“We got here just as the car rolled into the water. The....I saw a man and a woman fighting, a child hiding. Ian dove in, tried to save the woman but she was to far gone. He needs to get back to the house before he freezes to death.”

Culhcain held out his arms to the child, “Amelia, come with me love, let’s go see Airie.”

“You know her?”

“Yes, I’ll take her and the lad, you stay here with.....at the scene. Police should be here soon.”

“Ian, come with me lad. We’ve got to get you warmed up.”

“I’ll wait with Sara.”

“You’ll come with me now before you catch your death. Get on your horse, NOW!”

Surprisingly Ian obeyed. “Will you be alright, Sara?”

“I’ll be fine. You go get warmed up.”

The police showed up moments later and after Sara gave a statement, let her ride back to the mansion, saying that they would come to the manor to question Ian and get the child.

Basically it was a murder suicide. History of domestic abuse Arraine said. People had tried to help Emilee but he would apologize and she would go back. How many times had Sara seen that in her line of work? Too many. Ian sat before the fire, he was very quiet. She had been shot directly in the heart probably died instantly, he still saw it as a failure. Sara out a hand on his shoulder,
“come on, let’s go onto bed, you look exhausted.” He rose allowing her to lead him upstairs. They held each other close curled up under a mound of covers. “You know...”

“I know I could not have saved her, but it saddens me to know there is yet another motherless child in this world.”

“Her grandparents were going to take her. I’m sure she’ll be fine.” Eventually they fell asleep only to be awakened by a commotion downstairs. They ran to the kitchen. Arraine was yelling at a woman, Culhcain held a screaming Amelia in his arms. She reached for Sara when she saw her. She grabbed the child and took her away from the drama.

“I canna take it Arraine, she screams constantly. She hasn’t stopped since the cops brought her to us. We’ve no place for her. Johnnie can’t stand seeing her mother everytime he looks at her. You take her.”

“If we take her Joanna O’Mally, you’ll never get her back. We go to the barrister tomorrow and sign over the papers, understand? And you’re never to darken this land again.”

“Fine.”

“Get out!” Arraine was livid. She pushed past Ian and Culhcain. “Move!”

Ian looked to Culhcain in shock. “She’s got her Irish up boy, she’ll calm down in a while.”

“They are just going to give her to you?”

“They have very little, she’s of no use to them on the farm, too young to work, and she is the vision of her Ma.”

Sara rocked the sobbing child back and forth. Arraine, much calmer now entered the room went to the kitchen, “I’ll make her something to help her sleep.” She handed Sara a cup filled with a sweet smelling liquid.

“Here, little one, drink this.” After much coaxing she got the child to drink.  She cried herself to sleep soon after.

“She should sleep through the night.” Arraine looked at the girl clinging to Sara. “I think she feels a bit safer with you, why don’t we set up a bed in your room for her. Is that alright?”

Sara and Ian gave one another a slightly panicked glance, neither knew what to do with a child. “Whatever you feel would be best for the child.” Ian said quietly, the little girl had been through enough. “ Will you be taking her tomorrow when you sing the papers?”

“No. I don’t want her to have to see those people again.”

“Then she should stay with us, it will be less traumatic, I think.” Sara nodded in agreement with Ian.

Culhcain and Ian carried a small bed upstairs and placed it beside the bed. Arraine quickly placed bedclothes on it and Sara laid the now limp little girl down and tucked her in.

“We’ll pick up some clothes for her tomorrow. Poor little mite.” Arraine kissed her on the forehead. She hugged Sara, then Ian, “don’t hesitate to come get us if you need us.”

Sara laughed, “don’t worry. We’re in uncharted territory.”

She took Culhcain’s arm and they started out the door, he stopped. “You made an old man proud today Ian, I don’t know many men who’d jump in a river after a sinking car for people he didn’t know. You were a good lad and you’re an even better man, don’t ever forget that.”

“Thank you,” Ian whispered. With that they were gone leaving Sara and Ian staring at their charge.

Ian brushed a hand across Sara’s cheek, “you look like you could use a shower.”

“Will you two be ok?”

“I doubt she will awaken.”

Ian was almost asleep when Sara emerged from the bathroom. She glanced over at the still sleeping Amelia and curled up next to him. “She never even moved.”

Sara woke startled at first to hear a child whimpering. She sat up quickly, Ian knelt over Amelia whispering quietly to her, she reached out and clung to his neck. He picked her up from the bed cradling her in his arms and carried her to the window showing her the moon and the stars. She leaned her head against his neck reaching up to wrap a chubby hand in his hair. He looked over to Sara who was smiling in the moonlight. He tried to put Amelia back in her bed but she would not let go of him, so he climbed in bed with Sara placing the child between to two of them.

Bright green eyes met Sara’s as soon as she opened her eyes the next morning, Ian was still sound asleep. Amelia sat between them watching. “Good morning,” she reached out to touch the small girls nose like her dad used to. Amelia smiled and reached for Sara’s nose. “You hungry?” She pointed at her belly.

Amelia nodded. “Let’s go see what we can find.” Amelia pointed to Ian. “We’ll let him sleep.”

Arraine and Culhcain were already gone Sara noted. “You want some scrambled eggs?” That had been her favorite food as a kid. Amelia nodded. Sara ran water until it was warm and took a dishrag and washed the sleep from the girls eyes.  They were sharing a plate of eggs when Ian sleepily came into the kitchen. Sara grinned he was so sexy when he first wakes up. “Good morning, love.”

“Morning.”

Amelia climbed down from her chair ran to Ian holding up her arms. He obliged the child. “Are you running away from Sara’s cooking?”

Sara laughed at first then realized what he had asked, “hey!” He laughed as well, coughing afterwards. “You ok?”

“I think I swallowed some water yesterday. I’m a little congested that’s all.”
 
When he reached for a plate Sara noticed how bruised his hand was.

“What happened?”

“Car door slammed on it. Just deep bruising.” He turned to the child in his arms, “want some more eggs?” She nodded, and he sat her back down in her chair.