But there he was. Shim lay on the floor, his body still as the flames leapt around. Some seemed to shoot from his body, but he didn’t seem to be burned. His clothes were a mess, but his skin was pristine.
“Shim!” Lach screamed over the cracking of the fire. He looked overheard. The beams would come down any minute. He didn’t have a second to lose. He had to get his brother out of there. He leapt across the flames, his skin scorching, and picked up his brother.
He dropped him. His flesh was on fire. Horrible burns erupted on his flesh where he’d touched his brother. The skin bubbled and boiled.
And he couldn’t give up.
Lach gritted his teeth against the agony and lifted his brother again.
He screamed, the pain filling his every sense, but somehow his feet moved toward the door. Somehow he made it outside where the grass was cool.
He fell to his knees and knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that his brother was dead.
There was nothing inside Shim. Nothing at all. His body was a shell and a molten one at that. Lach’s body was burned, his skin torched, every inch an agony, but something cool and calm came over him.
Power flowed for the first time. It started in his center and reached out. He could feel them. The dead. There was power in them, an unspoken essence that they each retained, whether bone or ash. Power remained and Lach called on it.
And his brother took a deep breath.
Lach fell back, his vision fading, the pain taking over. His brother was…alive? He wasn’t sure. But Lach could feel his soul once more.
* * * *
Shim came out of the bond, his whole body shaking. He clenched his fists and looked down at his skin. It looked normal, but he knew now it wasn’t.
He was a corpse. He had been since the day he’d given his life to save Bron’s.
He was a walking, talking corpse.
“You aren’t dead,” Lach said harshly. His voice was strained, as though he really had been screaming and not just in the dream. “You aren’t dead. Maybe you were, but you aren’t now.”
Tears streamed down Bron’s face. “I killed him. I killed Shim.”
Gods, he didn’t want her to take it that way. “No. I gave my life to you, a chumann. I didn’t want to live without you.”
She sat up, her breasts exposed in the moonlight. “Gillian didn’t bring me back. Shim did.”
“Yes, and somehow I brought Shim back,” Lach insisted. “He isn’t dead. I know when I’m reanimating someone. I can feel it.”
Shim felt his eyes narrow. “And how many corpses have you reanimated over a long period of time, brother?”
Lach’s face was pale, except for the scars which appeared as red as the day he’d gotten them. “More than you know. More than I want anyone to know. Shim, you’re alive. I didn’t remember much, but I remember now. I called on my power and it flared, like your fire. It flared in a big way and it brought you back to life. Damn it, Shim, use that brain of yours. You eat and sleep and you can feel your body. A corpse can’t do that.”
“You don’t know. You don’t know that.” The thought horrified Shim. He was dead. He’d been dead. Was he still dead?
“I killed you.”
Bron. He had to hold on to Bron. His head was swimming. His body felt like a foreign thing, but he moved to hold her. “You didn’t kill me. You didn’t.”
“I felt it. I was you in that dream, Shim. I felt my hand reach out and pull at your soul. I reached out and took your life to save mine. How could I do that? You’re dead because I killed you.”
“He isn’t dead,” Lach insisted. He got off the bed and shoved his legs into a pair of trousers. “Will either of you bloody listen to me?”
“You should have left me, Lach,” Shim spat back, his anger bubbling to the surface. How could he go on knowing what he was? How could he make love to his wife when he was a dead thing animated only by his brother’s power? He’d given his life for her, but Lach had brought him back and turned him into a monstrous thing.
Lach’s fists clenched. “You would rather be dead than dependent on me? Is that how much I mean to you?”
Shim felt Bron stiffen in his arms. “He didn’t mean that, Lachlan. He values you.”