InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Purity Redux: Metempsychosis ❯ Niall ( Chapter 87 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

"Should we go look for him?"

Chuckling softly as he glanced up from the accounting reports on the entirety of the O'Shea estates, Ashur let them fall from his hands as he hauled himself to his feet to step over and wrap his arms around the new Mrs. Philips.  "He's exploring, Jessa," he reminded her.  "You're the one who said that this place was safer than anywhere, right?"

Biting her lip, she continued to stare out the window with a sigh. "But we thought he was safe in Canada, too, and . . ."

He grimaced since she didn't need to finish that thought.  He still felt it acutely, didn't he?  That altercation that could have so easily gone in a totally different direction . . .

Kells, held in that bastard's arms, dangling like he was little more than the last leaf, clinging to a great tree limb . . . All that fear, the feeling of being completely helpless . . . They weren't things that he would forget anytime soon, but damned if he'd ever allow a situation like that to happen again . . .

To that end, he'd actually been checking on the tracker in Kells' shoe, and he had a good idea of exactly what the boy was up to, and that was fine.  Besides . . . "You'd know if he were in trouble," Ashur reminded her.  "You told him that you'd feel it if he simply infused his youki into that necklace you made for him."

"I know," she said with a sigh.  "But what if he's caught and he can't grab a hold of it?"

He shook his head.  "You bought him that kiddy cell phone," he reminded her.  He'd rolled his eyes at the time when she'd presented it to the child.  It was only able to retain five phone numbers, though it did have a camera, too.  Kells had thought it was fantastic until he'd asked if he could download the Horrible Pigs app game.  Some of the interest in the device waned, though, when he learned that he couldn't download anything, so there was that . . .

She made a face.  "He could easily drop that," she maintained stubbornly.

"You're worrying too much, Jessa," Ashur told her, kissing her temple, giving her shoulders a squeeze.

That earned him a petulant scowl.  "I'm going to go make sure he's all right," she said, pulling away from Ashur, heading for the doorway.

"He's been fine the last three days while he's out exploring.  He's fine now, and you know, letting him do this is good for his sense of independence, too."

Crossing her arms over her chest, she shot him a particularly pouty expression, and she opened her mouth to speak, but must have thought better of it, because suddenly, she snapped her mouth closed and smiled, except it was an entirely calculating sort of look—one he really didn't trust at all . . . "You could come with me," she suggested, her voice dropping in tone, in pitch.  It was more of a caress that sent a very pleasant shiver, right down his spine.  "We could just . . . go for a walk . . ."

Leaning back, he stuffed his hands in his pockets, but he couldn't help the grin that surfaced on his features, either.  "Just a walk, huh?  So . . . We wouldn't be out there, looking for Kells?"

"Of course not!  But if we happened to find him, then that'd be all right, too, don't you think?"

He chuckled.  "You're really not good at manipulation, Jessa—something that I'm very glad of.  I suppose, though, if you really want to go for a walk, that'd be fine.  It's not too cold out for you, is it?"

"It's not that bad," she told him.  "It doesn't get as cold here as it does in Canada."

Following her out of the study and down the long hallway, he retrieved her coat from the foyer closet and held it open for her, refraining from commenting on the fur-lined arcticalla-fleece parka.  Arcticalla-fleece was a recent innovation that claimed to preserve the body's natural warmth, even in temperatures below -40.  Somehow, it just wasn't surprising that Jessa's coat was made of such a thing . . .

They stepped outside, and she gasped sharply as the cold wind hit her.  Ashur reached for her hand, and she took it, using her free one to hold the fur-lined hood in place.  "Maybe we should have gone somewhere else for our honeymoon," he said, only half-joking.

She shook her head.  "I love it here," she insisted.  "Besides, there were those things that needed to be done while we're here, so it was kind of like killing two birds with one stone, so to speak."

He made a face that she missed completely since she could only actually see whatever was directly in front of her face.  "Yeah, I think it might be wise to hire someone to oversee the estates," he told her.  "None of the reports they sent were done in the same way, so making sense of them is taxing, at best . . . Other than to say, the extent of your estate—of your available assets and investment income, your trust funds—I haven’t actually gotten to your income, generated by your properties . . . Well, you have a ridiculous amount of money, Jessa.  I’m trying to compile a generalized report for you, but . . ." He shook his head slowly.  “I’ll just say, it’s a lot—and right now, it’s a damn mess.”

She broke into a small smile, shifting a sidelong look at him.  “More than you?”

He grunted.  “Possibly.  Probably.”

She considered that for a long moment.  Sure, she had realized on some level, that her parents’ estate was vast, but she’d be lying if she were to say that she had any real idea, just how much it entailed.  It wasn’t something that her parents had ever actually discussed with her; there wasn’t a need for it before, and she wasn’t old enough for it to be an issue, and really, it didn’t mean that much to her, either, given that she had no intention to go out and spend a bunch of it, anyway.  However . . .

“What about Kells?” she ventured at length.  “I mean, strictly speaking, there should be a stipend that comes to him, just through Cantaven—just like you’ll get one for being the Marquess of Aumberlese—” He shot her a rather horrified look.  “Those are estate-generated,” she clarified.  “The titles don’t automatically do that.  But I feel like I should set up a trust fund for Kells,” she went on, opting to ignore the foreboding expression on Ashur’s face.

Reaching over to tug her hood up a little more snuggly, Ashur shrugged off-handedly.  “He’s already got one—a huge one, actually,” he admitted.  “When, uh . . . When my parents died, everything was left to me.  Ben wanted nothing to do with it, not that I can blame him.  He walked away from them so long ago, that I suppose on some level, he figured that he’d given up the right to levy any kind of claim to it.  That was his decision, but I . . . I mean, I didn’t need it—want it—either.  I already had more than enough from Muira International, and when I sold that, the proceeds were huge, so the assets that came to me because of the estate kind of felt like . . . like blood money . . . so, I put all of it into a trust fund for Kells, and it’s been sitting there, growing bigger, ever since.”

She made a face, leaned a little closer to Ashur, using him as a wind break.  “Even so . . .”

“You could—we could—create trust funds for future children,” he pointed out.

Something about the idea of these unknown ‘future children’ made Jessa giggle.  The future had somehow opened up before her, and the possibilities were blinding, stunning, beautiful . . . He seemed to understand, just what she was thinking, and he chuckled, too.  “I like that idea,” she decided.

He sighed, his amusement slowly fading, as he reached for her hand to help her over an old, fallen log.  “Before all that, however, we really do need to find someone you trust to help get your estate reports in more workable order.”

She sighed, too. "Da had a steward, but he either quit or was dismissed during the nonsense.  Mr. Rickhill . . . He worked for him for such a long time—ever since I can remember . . . He was a very nice man—a badger-youkai . . ."

"Would Dunbyrne know of him?"

"I would imagine so . . . He's been the family's attorney for a long while, too."

Ashur let out a deep breath and took a step closer to her, breaking the wind with his own body as they wandered over the land.  It wasn't overly cold, no, and he could only guess that it had something to do with the proximity to the shore.  Still, because of the temperatures, the gray skies above carried the threat of rain instead of snow, and the gray sheet that seemed to linger over everything, almost like a fog that was barely stroked with a touch of gossamer.  Yet again, it occurred to him: the rolling hills, the rises and falls of the land, even the trees and the flowing stream that he could smell, and, if he listened close enough, he could hear it too . . . This was the place that had formed his mate, the place that had spoken to her in gentle whispers and molded her with the tenderness of a lover, with the intimacy of a parent . . . and the profound sense of thankfulness wasn't something that he could put into words.

"What are you thinking?" she asked quietly.

He blinked and shot her a quick glance, only to find her, staring up at him with a candid expression, an underlying sense of curiosity in her velvet gaze.  "Just . . . picturing you, running over these hills, playing and laughing . . ."

She giggled.  "It made Ma so angry.  I'd be dressed with my hair done up, ready to sit with my governess, but I'd slip out through the kitchen, and all I wanted to do was to play, to roam.  I tore my dresses, got my hair tangled up in the tree branches or the long grasses . . . If I was lucky, Da would find me, and he'd play with me for a little while.  If Ma found me . . ." She made a face, but then, she laughed.  "There was one time, though . . . Ma found me, and, instead of dragging me home and scolding me for ruining my dress, she . . . She told me I was 'it', and then she ran away to hide . . . That was such a fun day . . ."

"Nora said that your mother used to love to roam and tried her best to avoid all the lessons and things that your grandmother demanded of her.  Seems like you're more like your mother than you realized . . ."

His statement made her smile, and yes, it was touched with a certain sadness.  Ashur figured that it always would be, and that was all right.  She was able to smile, too, and that had to mean something, even if he didn't flatter himself into trying to believe that he had anything at all to do with it . . .

It was Jessa's kind of magic, wasn't it?  Something that she, alone, possessed . . .

Drawing to a stop on the rise of a steep hill, Ashur slipped his arms around Jessa, smiled just a little as he watched Kells, rolling around in the dried grass with Puff-Puff.  They'd taken Sesshoumaru up on his offer to use his private plane, mostly because it made transporting the lynx much easier, and he must have pulled some strings because he'd also managed to procure an exemption for him, as well, provided that he was kept within the boundaries of Dunborough at all times.

Ashur cleared his throat.  "Should we go see what he's doing?"

Jessa stared at him for a long moment, then slowly shook her head.  "No . . . I don't want to . . . I mean, you're right.  He's discovering, testing his own independence . . . I really don't need to mother him all the time, do I . . .?"

He chuckled.  "There's nothing wrong with wanting to do that," he told her.  "I . . . I never had that, and I swore that Kells would have everything I never did."

She smiled at him, leaning against him for a long moment as she gazed down at the child.  Then she sighed and took his hand, tugging him back the way they'd come.  "Before he sees us," she murmured.

Ashur nodded and let her lead him back . . .


Jessa tried not to glance at the clock as she slowly sipped her tea.

Nora sat down beside her, staring at her with a thoughtful frown.  Come to think of it, she'd done that a lot the last days since they'd arrived in Ireland . . . "Milady . . ."

Jessa wrinkled her nose, set her cup carefully back in the saucer.  "You're my aunt," she reminded Nora.  "I'd prefer if you addressed me commonly."

Nora's expression stated quite plainly that she wasn't about to comply, and Jessa slowly shook her head.  "How are you feeling?" Nora asked, ignoring Jessa's statement entirely.

"Feeling?" Jessa echoed with a slight shake of her head.  "Fine . . ." She sighed.  "Well, a little bloated, actually . . . But then, maybe I've been eating just a little more than usual."  She made a face and sighed.  "Do you think Ashur will still want me if I get fat?"

Nora snorted.  "That man is going to want you, no matter what, but . . ."

"Maybe I should try eating healthier food," Jessa went on.  "I didn't realize that youkai could gain weight like humans do . . ."

Nora narrowed her gaze, started to open her mouth, but snapped it closed when Kells dashed through the door with a cold gust of wind and Puff-Puff on his heels.  Cheeks a rosy, cherry red from being outside all day, eyes bright below the blue sock cap that covered his head, matching mittens dangling from the string that connected them, he quickly levered off his shoes and straightened them under the bench next to the door before bouncing over to hug Jessa.

Jessa giggled, grasping the zipper pull and tugging it down before helping him take off his coat while he yanked off the sock cap and tossed it onto the table.  "Did you have a good time?" she asked, laying the garment over the back of a chair.  She offered him a blueberry scone that he grabbed and started to cram it into his mouth until Nora cleared her throat and raised an eyebrow.  Then he giggled and bit off the point instead.

"Yeah!" he exclaimed, climbing into the seat next to Jessa as Nora got up to fill a cup with warmed milk with just a touch of honey and a sprinkle of nutmeg for him.  It was something that Jessa had always found to be entirely comforting after a day, full of exploring and wandering and general adventuring when she was young.  "Puff-Puff and me followed the stream an' then we found an empty bird nest an' a hole but nothin' came out of the hole . . ."

"And I suppose you're going to go back out to explore more tomorrow?"

He nodded.  "Thanks!" he said as Nora set a milk on the table before him.  Then he turned back to face Jessa once more.  "Yeah, but my friend said he won't be here tomorrow . . ."

Jessa frowned, leaning in to sniff at the boy, but nothing smelled off . . . "What friend?" she asked carefully, wondering if she needed to have a look around.  There shouldn’t have been anyone else on the lands, but, given Ashur’s notoriety in certain circles, the concern was definitely there . . .

Kells didn't seem to notice Jessa's alarm, and he reached for another scone.  "He said his name is Niall," he said.  "He was really tall, like Daddy . . . but he has red hair like you!"

Eyes widening at the name that Kells had so casually tossed out there, Jessa shook her head.  "Kells—"

"He lit the torches!" Kells went on as though he hadn't heard Jessa at all.  "All at once, they just lit up!  An' then, we played hide an' seek!  It was fun!  But he talked kind of funny, so I couldn't understand everything he said . . ."

"N-Niall, you said . . .?"

Kells nodded, peering at her over the rim of the fine China cup.  "He gave me his fire."

Shaking her head, Jessa couldn't quite grasp, just what the boy was saying.  It . . . It wasn't possible, was it?  Niall . . . 'Da . . .'

"He said I gotta protect Aine.  He said that it was my ‘sponsibility!"

"Aine?"

Nodding again, Kells let the cup thump on the saucer so that he could reach over, pressing his tiny hand against Jessa's belly.  "Yeah!  My sister!"

Jessa's brain seemed to freeze as she struggled to make sense of what Kells had just said.  "But I'm no'—"

"Uhh . . . surprise?" Ashur murmured, striding into the kitchen and pausing long enough to kiss her cheek before ruffling Kells' hair and filling a cup with tea.

"What?"

He chuckled.  "I thought you'd have figured it out long before now," he told her.  "I've been waiting . . ."

She digested that for a long moment, still not quite able to fully comprehend, just what she'd been told by Kells and by Ashur . . . "I'm . . . pregnant . . .?"

Ashur nodded.  "So, you . . . met your grandfather, Kells?"

"He was my grandpa?" Kells squealed happily.

Ashur chuckled.  "Sounds like it.  He wants you to protect your sister—that's what he said?"

"Yeah, that's why he gave me his fire."

Jessa blinked when Kells held up his necklace, and she slowly reached out, lifted it in her hand—the pendant she'd made for him, and, while her flames still burned merrily within the crystal orb, there were more flames in there, as well—flames that were just a little redder, a little brighter—and entirely familiar to her.  She could feel the aura of them, even through the crystal orb as her vision blurred, as her nose prickled.  "Da . . ."

"His flames?" Ashur asked quietly, leaning in to get a better look at the pendant.

Jessa nodded, unable to speak, holding the orb in one hand, pressing the other against her belly.

Ashur sighed.  "Are those happy tears?"

She sniffled, nodding as her face crumpled, as he sighed and pulled her into his lap, against his shoulder, letting her cry, at least, for the moment, as he held her close and smiled, just a little . . .

"I'm going to be a big brother!" Kells suddenly exclaimed.

Ashur chuckled as Jessa choked out a sobbing laugh.  "Yes, you are."

Kells sat up on his knees.  "Tomorrow?"

"No . . . In about . . . seven and a half months," he said.

Jessa sniffled and sat up, frowning at Ashur.  "I've been pregnant for that long?"

He shrugged.  "Yeah, I thought you'd figure it out sooner, too."

She wrinkled her nose, but smiled, her eyes still bright from her tears.  "A baby . . ."

"Aine," Kells repeated.

"Why Aine?" Ashur asked.

Kells giggled.  "Gwampa Niall said her name is Aine."

Ashur shrugged.  "Well, I guess that's that."

Jessa laughed.  "I guess it is . . ."