Ann Gimpel (15 page)

Bella loosed another raucous cry and preened her feathers. “That’s easy, human. I know everything.”

Intuition that had nothing to do with magic burned in Aislinn’s midsection. “She’s been with you for a lot of your life?”

Though she’d asked Fionn, the bird answered. “Of course, missy. He and I have been together forever.”

Rune nipped her.
“What’s this all about?”

“We’ll talk later.”
She turned to Fionn. “Let’s hunt. I need to stretch my legs. I’ll take this area.” She pointed off to her right. “You choose another. That way, we won’t nick one another by mistake with our magic.”

“See you in a bit, lass. Good hunting.” He melted into the forest.

She tried hard not to think. When she did, her brain drove in crazy circles, coming back to the same impossibilities every time, but without any answers. If she wasn’t careful, she found herself reexamining the things she’d found in Fionn’s mind. When she realized she wanted to spend more hours in what was a walking, breathing history lesson, she reined herself in.

The Old Ones have been around forever, so why not him? And Dewi…

Dewi was a fairy story
.

Apparently not.

She wondered why the Old Ones had another name for the dragon thing, thought maybe Fionn might know, and turned toward home. Despite her musings, she’d managed to snag a marmot and a ridiculously fat raccoon. They had a strong gamey taste, but made excellent soups and stews.
The dragon has two names. Fionn has a name right out of legend. I don’t even know Rune’s other name. Shit, am I the only one around here with a simple, normal name?

“Come on.” She clucked for the wolf. “Let’s go home.”

“I knew if I waited long enough, you would show yourself,” something chuckled from the shadows.

She twirled and dropped her game so she’d have her hands free to fight. “D’Chel?”

“Who else?” The god stepped from a grove of lodge pole pine, wearing his human form. “Nice that you were expecting me.”

Chapter Fourteen

R
une growled. Hackles rose the length of his back. His body vibrated with outrage where he touched her leg.

“Easy,”
she cautioned him.
“No heroics.”

D’Chel threw back his head and laughed. “By all means, keep your bond animal under control so I don’t have to kill him.”

She ground her teeth together. “Leave me alone.”

“Here I thought you wanted me.” Luminous eyes, copper this time, glittered against the moonlit night. Shiny, dark hair fluttered around him, moved by a gentle breeze.

“What did I ever do to make you think that?” Though she tried to infuse venom into the question, her voice came out high and squeaky.

“Last time, you sent your mate and animals away so we could be alone.” He smiled, perfect teeth nested in a strong jaw. A jab of sexual heat seared her.

“I sent them away so they’d be safe.”

“Oh, I see.” The lascivious grin widened. “You’re into sacrifice. I know some wonderful little games we could play. Besides, I like my women subservient.”

Her lips drew into a snarl, baring her teeth. “Never. I’ll die first.”

“Is that your choice?” He raised a hand lazily. “It’s all the same to me, human. There are many more where you came from. I simply thought your spirit might make things more…interesting for a change.”

“You can’t touch me if I don’t want you to. I proved that last time.”

“True. But I can kill you from where I stand.” Another jolt of lust stabbed her. Fluid gushed down her thighs, reminding her how sore her labia were. “We really could enjoy one another. Look how hot I make you from ten paces. Think what I could do if I were actually touching you.”

Memories of bone-chilling cold oozing from his hands rioted through her mind. Maybe he could kill her, but she was damned if she’d let him touch her again.

“Look.” He pulled his richly embroidered black robe open and stroked himself. She tried to look away, but couldn’t. His cock was mesmerizing. Perfectly formed, perfectly hard, perfectly beautiful…

Stop that!
Just stop it. The fucking thing is cold and dead, just like the rest of him. It doesn’t matter what it looks like.

“Mmmm,” he purred, stroking a little faster. “If that’s the problem, I can make it warm just for you. Come touch me. See for yourself.” His hand worked harder.

Something in the air shifted. It felt as if he were stroking her as well. Aislinn fought against it with everything she had, but she came anyway, shaking all over.
Fuck!
Another “look, Ma, no hands” orgasm.
Breath jangled in her throat.

He took a step closer, still working himself. A drop of semen glistened on the end of his cock. She yanked her gaze upward until she met his eyes: copper slits, glinting dangerously. Compulsion poured off him. If she didn’t do something right then to break his hold on her, she’d close the distance between them and give herself to him.

Aislinn commanded her body to move right that second, goddammit, but she was rooted to the spot, staring into those mystical, alien eyes. Rune growled. Pain rocked her ankle. She glanced down and saw the wolf’s jaws circling her lower leg.

“Thank you. Do it again.”

Pain tore through her as the wolf tightened his hold—and broke D’Chel’s. Aislinn pulled fire as fast as she could and heated her body so D’Chel couldn’t actually touch her. Footsteps pounded through the thick undergrowth. She stiffened. Was it another dark god?

“Aislinn!” Fionn shouted. He and Bella crashed into the clearing.

“I was just leaving,” she panted, still so hot that all she could think about was getting a cock—anyone’s would do—inside her.

“No.” His voice was stern. “Let’s try to get rid of this bastard.” Raising his hands, he released power. It flew straight toward D’Chel. At least the god of illusion had let go of his dick. It bounced outside his robes in an obscene parody of desire as he ducked and weaved to avoid Fionn’s volley.

She grasped the power filling her and loosed it in jolts, sending it toward D’Chel, but the space where he’d been was suddenly empty. The dark god apparently hadn’t liked the odds.

Why am I not surprised?
Aislinn waited to see what he’d morph into. After ten breaths, she began to hope he was gone. After twenty, she was sure he was, at least for the moment. Her hands dropped to her sides.

“I think we can go home.” She bent and picked up the marmot and the raccoon.

“Why didn’t you call me when you knew you were in trouble?” The same unsettling edge that had been there when she’d returned from Taltos ran beneath his voice.

“I thought I could handle it.” She drew herself up tall and looked at him. “And I was handling things.”

Fionn made a rude sound somewhere between a grunt and a snort. “Och aye, and you were
handling things
just fine. I smell sex in the air. He had his cock to hand, and you were standing like a vestal virgin sacrifice, staring at him with cow eyes.”

Heat flooded her face, fury mixed with shame. “I didn’t go to him,” she hissed. “I’ll admit I wanted to, but I didn’t. When you showed up, I was drawing magic to get myself away from him. Away, not toward.” Spinning on her heel, she stalked back through the forest.

His footsteps pounded behind her. Hands settled on her shoulders. She stopped dead because he held her in place. She thought he’d come round in front of her, but instead, he dropped his mouth close to her ear. “You’re a proud one, lassie. Your pride will be your undoing.”

“Where I come from, we call that spirit,” she snapped. “It’s what’s kept me alive.”

“What was your mother’s last name?”

“Huh?” Confusion rocked her. Where had that question come from?

“It’s a simple enough question. What clan did your mother came from?”

“McLaughlin. Her last name before she married Daddy was McLaughlin.”

The hands on her shoulders tightened. “And her family came from Inishowen?”

“That’s right. Hey!” She wriggled her shoulders. “You’re hurting me.”

“Sorry.” His fingers, which had felt a lot like Bella’s claws, loosened. Something electric radiated from them.

“Did you know,” his voice was very quiet, “that you are descended from kings?”

It was so preposterous that she threw back her head and laughed. “Don’t be ridiculous. There’s nothing special about the name McLaughlin. It’s as common as rain. If you look in any phone book, there are dozens of them.”

“The original spelling was MacLochlainn.” He spelled it out for her. “They were the first kings of Ireland.” When she heard him again, it was deep in her mind.
“I know, lass. I was there.”

She stood over a pot of water warmed by magic. The raccoon, its meat cut carefully into strips, simmered along with greens and wild mushrooms. Fionn had tried to talk with her after they returned to his home, but she’d asked to be left alone—at least for a while. Still rattled from her confrontation with D’Chel, she didn’t want to let slip that Rune was the only thing that had stood between her and disaster. The slick place between her thighs reminded her how weak she’d been.
I never should have talked to him. That was my mistake. The minute I saw him, I should have pulled magic and gotten myself away.

“What about calling for me?” Fionn’s voice was quiet. “You never did tell me why you didn’t.”

She twirled so quickly, hot liquid from the pot splattered from her spoon and dripped across the floor. “You’re in my head again.”

He sat in a rickety chair, watching her, arms crossed over an old fisherman’s sweater he’d shrugged into when they’d returned. A corner of his mouth quirked upward. “Well, you won’t talk to me...”

“That does not give you the right—” she began and then bit off the rest of her words. She blew out a breath, hoping the simple action would cool the sudden fury raging through her. Giving the stew another stir, she stalked over and sat across from him in the room’s only other chair. “I don’t understand why I get so angry at you.” He opened his mouth, but she shook her head. “No, let me do this my own way. Before I talk about the hard stuff, what would you like me to call you if other people are around? Do you have a more Americanized name?”

Blue eyes twinkled merrily. “I’ve tried that. Didn’t work, because none of them ever got my attention. Call me Fionn.” He lapsed into his Gaelic accent. “Just doona be including the rest of my name.”

She rolled her eyes. “Stop that. What if I slip up?”

“You’ll figure something out. Look, lass, I can’t stuff the cat back into the bag.”

She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Okay. Next question. Why do the Old Ones have another name for Dewi?”

“They had a dragon god before Mu sank. They must believe Dewi is that god.”

“They called it Orione.” Fionn just looked at her, so she went on. “Why are you so sure who I met is your dragon god and not theirs?”

“That’s a good question. I suppose at the root of things, I’m not. I’d have to lay eyes on the thing myself to be certain, but Dewi would never have harmed a MacLochlainn. Your mother was right when she told you Dewi protects your clan.”

Aislinn turned the information over in her head. The Old Ones had seemed truly shocked that Orione hadn’t hurt her. “What about the blood part? Is that something Dewi would have done?”

“I could tell you a carefully crafted lie to make you feel better, but I truly do not know. Any magical creature might use blood to determine what sort of being it faced. As it stands, we know two things.” He counted on his fingers. “One, it tasted your blood. Two, it let you go. I believe it discovered who you were through your blood.”

“Which is why it left,” she finished for him and got up to give the stew another stir. “Earlier, you said the Old Ones came from Mu. So, that’s a true story? About the continent sinking and all.”

“Of course. Never could figure out why it dropped out of the histories. Unless the Lemurians wanted to cover their tracks. It was their own damned fault they lost their land—”

She held up both hands. “Uh-uh. Maybe sometime I’d like to hear about it, but my head’s too full right now.”

A corner of his mouth turned down. “I’m guessing now would not be the time to tell you the history of Ireland and the MacLochlainn clan, either?”

“Prescient of you.” She smiled as she sat back down. Her earlier anger scattered like so much dust. She reached a hand across the small table that lay between them, and he took it. Her next words came hard. “I’m sorry I didn’t call you. I just kept thinking it wasn’t all that bad. After all, it was only D’Chel. It wasn’t as if he had an army at his back—”

“Not that you knew about,” Fionn growled.

She waved him to silence. “Hush. I’m trying to apologize. It isn’t easy. Anyway, I promise I’ll try to do better. It’s hard to see myself as part of something. It’s been just me for three years.”

He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it. It was such a courtly, old world gesture that it warmed her. “I think our meal’s nearly ready,” he said. “Not sure what time it is, but it might qualify as a romantic midnight supper.”

“Sounds good to me.” Her smile widened into a grin. “I’m hungry.” Aislinn rose, intent on filling bowls with stew.

Rune had been asleep since feasting on raccoon scraps. He got to his feet and rubbed against her as she crossed the room. Something nagged at the back of her mind. “Oh.” She laid a hand on the wolf’s head. “Sorry, Rune, I’d forgotten.” She turned to face Fionn. “Rune wanted to go back to where he and Marta lived. There are things he thinks I should look at.”

Fionn glanced at the wolf.

Rune’s tail swished from side to side. His amber gaze shifted from one to the other of them as he spoke. “Marta kept notes about the Old Ones. They may help you. And I would like to visit what was my home one last time.”

“How long since she died?” Fionn asked. “And where exactly did you and Marta live?”

“In a town named Ely. I’m not exactly certain how much time has passed since I lost my last bond mate.” Rune shook himself from head to tail tip.

“About a month, maybe a bit more,” Aislinn cut in. “Animals measure time differently than we do.”

“We should leave tomorrow, then. We don’t want anyone to get there ahead of us, and it seems much time has already passed.” Fionn got to his feet. Looking at Rune, he asked, “Did Marta ward her home?”

“Of course.”

Fionn exhaled sharply. “Then we may not be too late.” He placed his hands on Aislinn’s shoulders. “Sit. I’ll get our food.”

She returned to her chair, thinking about looters. Christ, she’d looted the McCloud Fishing Lodge just yesterday. Or had it been the day before? Bottom line was everyone took whatever they could, wherever they could find it. Unless Marta’s house had been very well hidden, wards or no wards, they may well find it stripped of everything. No one else would care about her notes. They’d simply see paper as something to start a fire with.

“Thanks.” She beamed at Fionn, who’d just set a steaming bowl, fragrant with herbs and spices, in front of her.

“Eat. You could use a bit more meat on your bones.” He looked down his nose at her. “Nay, don’t crinkle up those golden eyes. Do you know they’re almost exactly the same shade as Rune’s?”

“Mother’s eyes,” she mumbled. “I have my mother’s eyes.”

“They’re a MacLochlainn trait,” he informed her with a hint of a supercilious grin.

They ate in silence. Once she started in on the thick stew, she realized she was half-starved. It was easy to simply follow one spoonful with another, washed down by several cups of mead, and not think at all.

“Maybe,” she ventured after her bowl was empty, “as long as we’re heading to where Rune and Marta lived, we could take whatever we find there to my place. It will be much closer than this. We’re still in California. Where I first met Rune was only a couple hundred miles from home.”