The Immortal Doc Holliday: Hellion: (The Immortal Doc Holliday Series Book 13) (The Immortal Doc Holliday On-going Series) by M.M. Crumley

Author:M.M. Crumley [Crumley, M.M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Lone Ghost Publishing
Published: 2023-06-18T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

Voices swirled around Doc. Strange voices. Voices he'd never heard. Voices layered with mystery. Voices layered with wisdom and years beyond understanding.

"He wears the ring."

"Rather unexpected."

"I thought the ring lost."

Doc tried to open his eyes, but something, a force, a burden, something, was holding him still, keeping him frozen. He struggled against it, but he couldn't budge at all.

"He is just a man," a voice laced with disappointment said.

"Look again, sister."

There was a slight pause, then the woman said, "I see now. I was only using my eyes."

"Do you think this is wise?" another voice asked.

"The choice is not ours to make."

"The choice was made long ago."

"When the ring was forged."

"It chose him."

"We cannot unchoose him."

"The ring should not have been forged," a new voice said. "This pathway is not wise."

"I agree, but there is nothing to be done."

"We could leave him in the plains," the new voice suggested.

"That would break our oath."

"Better to break the oath than to be unwise."

"I vouch for this man," another voice suddenly said, a voice Doc vaguely recognized.

He searched his mind, looking for the face that went with it, but before he could find it, the disagreeable voice said sharply, "You are no longer a member of this council. Your voice carries no weight here."

"I am willing to hear what she has to say," another voice broke in.

"As am I."

"And I."

"You are all fools! The oath is five thousand years old. Why hold to it like this? It was forged in a moment of weakness."

"Silence!" a stern voice ordered. "Fiona, what have you to say?"

Fiona. Rachelle's sister. The fairy Doc had saved from Gionta's painting. That was the voice he was hearing.

"This man is just," Fiona said with conviction. "He sees truth, and he cuts through lies. He does not hesitate to put his own life at risk to protect others. He protects. That is his nature."

"The question is not whether or not he is just," the stern voice said. "The question is whether or not he is capable of completing the task."

"He is strong enough to complete any task," Fiona stated.

"Are we looking at the same man?" the disagreeable voice spat.

"You have only to truly look at him to see the power within him," one of the other voices said. "I fear you have been corrupted by your time with the humans, brother. I do not think you see clearly anymore."

"Are you suggesting that I am no longer pure?" the disagreeable one snarled.

"I am merely suggesting that there is no clear reason to object to honoring our oath."

Doc was through listening to disembodied voices arguing about his fate. He was not a puppet. He was not a tool or a chosen vessel. He was Doc Holliday. Lucky gambler. Good friend. Exceptional lover. And he wasn't about to let a bunch of ancient fairies decide they knew what was best for him.

He focused on the force holding him in place, searching for its weakness. At first it was just a blank wall, but as he studied it, the crevices became clear, just like the tics of an opposing gambler.

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