Free Brighid's Mark by Cate Morgan Page A

rain.
    Callie wandered the French Quarter without paying much attention to where she was going. The crowds were thick tonight, the streets lined with domino groupings of motorbikes. She had always wanted one, but Chase and Donal both had categorically refused to let her. Deep down, she knew they were right. Still, it might have been fun. Liberating.
    She passed jumble shops smashed in with cookie cutter tourist stores selling beads and shot glasses, clubs and twenty-four hour bars. Jazz and rock and blues tumbled out of open doors, neon lights from flashing signs dancing across the pavement in stained glass patterns. Muted clinks from dishes underscored raised voices and raucous music, the way warm, spicy smells of mouth-watering New Orleans cuisine undercut the pervasive odors of too many people combined with too much booze.
    The Baron’s words rolled round and round endlessly in Callie’s mind, chasing her thoughts in a relentless game of What-If?
    What if she said to hell and back with her bloody-minded rules? What if, as she suspected, Liam was more like her than even she’d imagined? After all, they were both appointed champions, both Marked. What if his light was exactly what she needed to make everything right?
    His light.
    Callie paused at a narrow side street, one she wouldn’t have noticed except for the faint strains of music drifting from the dark. At first she thought it might be blues, then jazz. But there was something beneath it, an undercurrent of drums, fiddle and what she thought might have been a fife, of all things.
    There was something of the Tuatha in it, as well as the Loa. Everything New Orleans, and more besides. It was easy to see why Eva loved it here. Why Liam felt compelled to stay so long. The Baron had been right: the city was as much a part of him as he was of it. She could feel herself becoming a part of it as well.
    Speaking of people, there was a crowd making its way toward her. Some of the participants had instruments, but most of them were dancing. Callie walked slowly along the narrow passage, more curious than disturbed. Her boots made no noise, while a breeze blew the tangled curls from her face. With it came the feel of warm, tropical scents and star spangled skies. Of cinnamon spice days and rum soaked nights.
    And music. So much music. It reached into her, drew her closer. The crowd parted around her, surrounded her until all she could see were flashing, turning bodies. Friendly hands pulled her into the swirling mass, urged her to join them. She laughed.
    An opening appeared in the crush, giving her an unencumbered view of the path she’d just taken. Another breeze as the bodies shifted, and she turned to see the tall, shadowed figure at the end of the street. She stood still while he approached, muscles tensing.
    Then a stream of light from a nearby sign illuminated the figure, and she relaxed. Liam had found her. She knew then he would always find her, because they were the same.
    He stopped in front of her, dark eyes radiating concern. “You didn’t come back.”
    “How long have I been gone?”
    “Half the night. I was worried.”
    Callie looked to the sky, and saw he was right.
    It’s a lonely thing, Callie-girl.
    He tucked his fingers beneath her chin and tugged her around to face him again. “Callie?”
    “I need your help.”
    Liam didn’t hesitate. “Anything.”
    “Hold on to me.”
    It was different from what she knew, but not unfamiliar. There was the same empty void, coupled with underwater pressure and lack of sensory detail. She pressed her ear to his chest, filling her mind with the sound of his heart. The light within her was dimmed, but not gone.
    Liam’s warmth seeped into her, his scent of fire-warmed brandy and light citrus. She let it flood her senses, blocking everything else out.
    Drums turned to a slow pulse she felt with her whole body. Her nerve endings tingled. Anticipation built in her gut, followed the creeping sense of nothing that