Earth's Hope (12 page)

“We’re ready,” Arawn announced.

All three Celts wore battle leathers, even Gwydion. The buff-colored deer hides hugged their bodies like second skins, leaving virtually nothing to the imagination.

Aislinn gaped at the master enchanter and asked. “What happened to your robe?”

He held his arms out to the sides, the carved staff he was never without clutched in one hand, and twirled in a circle. “Do ye like what ye see lass?”

Aislinn snorted. “Please. If you’re going to tell me you changed your wardrobe to seduce me with your Chippendale physique, don’t bother.”

Arawn nudged Gwydion. “Not sure if that was a compliment or not. Werena the Chippendale dancers gay?”

“Not the point,” Gwydion smirked. “They were fine specimens of manhood.”

Wing beats sounded and moments later, Nidhogg settled to the ground next to Dewi. He eyed the group with his whirling green gaze. “Sorry. That took longer than I’d anticipated. Our black youngling insisted on coming with me.”

“What’d you do?” Aislinn grinned. “Knock him out?” In her experience, the black dragon didn’t take no for an answer and pushed every limit in the book.

“Good question.” Dewi glanced sidelong at her mate. “What did you do?”

“Made a bunch of unrealistic promises for after I get back.” Nidhogg spread his jaws in a smile. “Isn’t that what all parents do?”

Gwydion stepped forward, flanked by the other two Celts. “We need to get moving.”

“No shit,” Aislinn muttered under her breath. The air about twenty feet away took on a shimmery aspect and she felt the zing of magic, electric against her skin. Her gut tightened in anticipation of another wave of Lemurians, who’d had plenty of time to regroup. Rune stiffened where he leaned against her leg and growled louder.

Gwydion’s eyes widened just before a broad smile wreathed his face. “Och aye, and ’tis one time procrastination worked in our favor.” He strode toward the pulsating, multi-hued air and Aislinn relaxed. Surely he wouldn’t be so cavalier if the magic belonged to the dark gods or Old Ones.

Arawn and Bran trotted after Gwydion. “He needs help,” Bran noted tersely and power boiled around him, adding to the unsettled air.

“Whoever are they talking about?” Rune asked.

“Fionn, you dolt,” Bella cawed. “He’s trying to get back to us. Something must have siphoned off his power.”

Aislinn’s feet moved of their own accord as soon as Bella squawked Fionn’s name. Shoving between Gwydion and Arawn, she rallied her own magic and threaded it in with Bran’s, as she figured out how to enhance his summoning spell.

The god of prophecy turned to her and nodded approvingly. “Ye’re good at this, lass.”

“Comes from working with Fionn,” she said through clenched teeth, her body vibrating with the effort of maximizing her magic. “What’s wrong? It’s almost as bad as when he barricaded himself in the Dreaming and I couldn’t get to him.”

“I doona think there is a problem,” Bran countered. “Other than Fionn’s magic having been thoroughly drained.”

A portal formed in the air, glowing blue around its edges, and Fionn stepped through, shaking his unbound hair behind his shoulders. “No problem, lass. None at all.” He strode forward and swept her into his arms.

She clasped him to her, barely believing he was back, and buried her face in the crook between his neck and shoulder, breathing him in. Her heart pounded against her ribcage, and her eyes sheened with unshed tears.

He smoothed a hand down her hair and spoke into her mind. “Och, mo croi, ye’re a sight for sore eyes. I was so worried the dark gods or Lemurians would attack.” He pushed her toward the house, still tangled in her arms.

“Hold up there.” Gwydion grabbed Fionn’s arm. “Afore ye disappear into your bedchamber with the lass, we want to hear what happened.”

Fionn sputtered, but Aislinn let go of him, stepped away, and murmured, “We all want to know, so you may as well tell it once, rather than twenty times.”

Fionn shut his eyes for a moment and took in a breath, blowing it out slowly. Dark smudges rode beneath his eyes, and lines that hadn’t been there before carved into the sides of his mouth. When he opened his eyes, he scanned the group with his astute, blue gaze that didn’t miss much, and frowned when he noticed Aislinn’s rucksack.

“Ye were coming with them to find me?” he asked, his voice carefully devoid of inflection.

Aislinn knew what was coming. She squared her shoulders and studied him through narrowed eyes. “Of course. Is that a problem?”

Instead of answering her, Fionn stomped to Dewi and Nidhogg and demanded, “What were you thinking? You too.” He raked Gwydion, Bran, and Arawn with a scathing glance.

“Why wouldn’t they take me?” Heartily sick of being protected, Aislinn didn’t move from where she stood.

“Mayhap because the Harpies kill humans who set foot on their island? Or worse, steal their souls, enslaving them.” Fionn’s harsh tones could have etched metal.

Gwydion scrubbed a hand down his face. “Och, and I’d forgotten that last part.”

Fionn crossed his arms over his chest. “And did all of you forget about how predatory the Harpies are?”

“Not sure I ever knew.” Nidhogg blew steam.

“Get over yourself,” Dewi huffed at Fionn. “No harm was done. Even if you hadn’t shown up, the five of us are more than a match for three Harpies.”

“I do a fair job protecting myself,” Aislinn cut in. Pain slashed and she looked down to find Rune’s jaws around her calf.

Oops. Holy crap! Everyone’s a prima donna today.

She dropped a hand onto the wolf’s head. “Rune’s damned good at protecting me too.”

He let go of her then, and glanced up with his amber eyes. “Thank you, mistress, for remembering I exist.”

“For Christ’s sake!” She slammed a fist into her open palm, spun, and bolted across the greenway toward the moat. Life had been a whole lot simpler before Rune, Dewi, and Fionn. No one had any expectations of her then—

Except the Lemurians, once they suckered me into working for them.

Her pace quickened until she was running across the heath as fast as she could. The gates to Fionn’s manor house flashed past. Something red flew above her and she realized Dewi was tracking her. “I’m not yours, either,” she shouted.

“Ah, but you are,” the dragon replied.

Footsteps pounded behind her. She didn’t have to turn around to know it was Fionn. His energy was unmistakable. “Don’t touch me,” she screeched as he pulled alongside her.

“And why ever not?” he demanded, not sounding the least bit out of breath.

Aislinn ground to a halt. She’d nearly made it to the rocky beach fronting the sea. When she spun to face Fionn, it was all she could do not to gnash her teeth in exasperation. “We’ve had this conversation maybe twenty times. You have to stop trying to protect me.” She gathered a measured breath. “It hurts my feelings that you don’t trust I’m capable of taking care of myself. How the hell do you think I got through the three years after the Lemurians took over before I met you? It wasn’t by being incompetent.”

He extended a placating hand. “Now, lassie.”

She shook her head. “Don’t lassie me. How about American English?”

“All right,” he said, with perfect diction, and dropped his hand to his side. His face twisted into something bitter. “I thought you’d be glad to see me, obviously I was wrong.”

She ignored his barb. “What happened between you and that Harpy? You know, the Aello one you fucked before.”

“Is that it?” He knit his brows together. “You’re jealous?”

“Why the hell wouldn’t I be?” She closed her teeth over her lower lip, chewing in consternation. “I know you didn’t go there of your own free will, but you were gone for a long time. Why didn’t you come right back?”

“I couldn’t. Something separated me from my magic.”

Aislinn blew out a breath and realized Dewi hovered above them, listening. She cast her gaze skyward. “Go away.”

“What’s the Maclochlainn’s business is my business,” Dewi informed her archly.

“Bullshit!” Fionn said. “You just want grist for the gossip mill. Go back to the house, Dewi. Please.”

“Humph. No gratitude.”

“I’m grateful to you for lots of things,” Aislinn said, “but you wouldn’t want Fionn and me listening in on one of your private conversations with Nidhogg.”

Steam plumed from the dragon’s mouth, but she turned and flapped her way back toward Fionn’s home. Aislinn clasped her hands behind her back. “All this makes me tired. Cut to the chase, Fionn. How’d your magic suddenly reappear so you could find your way back here?”

“You noticed how weak it was—” he began.

She tilted her chin. “Not what I asked.”

“All right. Aello left me by myself, and I tried and tried to reach my power, but couldn’t. Since I needed help, I petitioned Cronus, one of the Greek gods—”

“I know who he is,” she interrupted. “Just tell me what happened.”

Fionn blew out an exasperated sounding breath. “I’m trying to, but you’re not making this easy.”

She unclasped her hands, drew them to the front, and made a beckoning gesture. When he took a step toward her, she shook her head. “Talk first.”

“Fine.” He nodded sharply, clearly hanging onto his own temper by a thread. “Cronus showed up in a cyclone that created such a psychic disturbance it severed whatever chokehold the Harpies had placed on my magic.”

“Before that, did anything happen between you and that Harpy?” Aislinn held her breath. She didn’t really want to know, but had to ask the question.

“No.”

She tilted her head to one side, trying to mine for inflection beneath that one word. “Did you want to?” she persisted.

“For Christ’s sake, Aislinn.” Breath whistled from between his teeth. “Do you want to fuck the dark gods when they spray you with their libido fountain and flash their hard-ons?” She opened her mouth, but he waved her to silence. “Of course you do, but you don’t act on it. That’s the dividing line, whether we act on it, not whether someone gets our juices flowing.”

Aislinn winced; he had a point. And a damned good one. She’d come within an angstrom of giving in to the dark gods, even knowing sex with them would freeze her from the inside out. Never mind the times she’d come when they flicked their knowing gazes her way, or masturbated in front of her. As if Fionn had been inside her mind—and he probably had—he walked to her side and gathered her into his arms. After a moment when she stiffened, she allowed herself to relax into his embrace. He ran his hands down her back, kneading tense muscles, before resting them on her ass and snugging her against his body where his cock stiffened between them.

Rune and Bella emerged from behind a nearby clump of gorse bushes. “Since they’re going to make up,” the raven quorked, “we may as well go hunting.”

Aislinn turned her head to stare at her wolf and asked, “You were there all along, eavesdropping?” Rune batted his eyes at her and she snorted. “You’re as bad as Dewi.”

Fur flew as he shook himself. “I’m much stealthier and not nearly as likely to gossip.”

She grinned. “Truer words were never spoken. Stay closer to the manor house than this while you’re hunting.”

“We will,” Bella cawed, and the pair turned to leave.

“Does this mean ye’ve forgiven me, leannán?” Fionn’s Gaelic inflection was back. Worried blue eyes sought hers.

“Since you didn’t do anything wrong, I’m not sure forgiveness is part of the equation,” she murmured.

“Och, I may not have sinned with the Harpy, but I admit I was flummoxed—and furious—when I understood the others were going to bring you to the Harpies’ island.”

“You can’t keep me in a box.”

“I know that, lassie.” He tightened his hold on her butt. “Can we make up?”

He wriggled against her, and heat began in her belly, desire that spread until breath clotted in her throat.

She recognized a spell laced into his touch and giggled. “Wow! You must really want me if you’re using a love charm.”

“More than life itself,” he murmured and tilted his head until his mouth rested over hers.

Aislinn squirmed from under him. “Before we get lost in each other, I have a piece of good news.”

“And what might that be?” Heat from his blue eyes impaled her until she almost forgot how to talk.

“Dragons,” she finally managed. “There are four more of them.”

He rubbed his thumb over her lips. “Aye, I already know about them.”

“How?”

“Bran and Gwydion spilled the beans.” Fionn smiled. “Aye, likely there is much to catch up on, but it can wait, mo croi.” Grasping the side of her face, he slashed his mouth over hers and kissed her hungrily.

Aislinn kissed him with a desperation that started in her toes. As she clutched him to her and opened her mouth beneath his, she wondered if they’d make it back to the house before lust got the better of them.

Chapter Ten

Fionn sank his tongue into Aislinn’s mouth, reveling in how sweet she tasted. They’d gone rounds before over his almost insane need to keep her out of harm’s way, but he’d never be able to live with himself if something happened to her—something he could have prevented by… By what? Locking her in a Rapunzel tower deep in the woods, shrouded by spells?

She sparred with his tongue, sucking on it, and his stray thoughts shattered. He wanted the woman in his arms, pure and simple. Wanted her with an intensity and ferocity that shocked him. Fionn tore his mouth from hers. “I’m going to teleport us into my bedchamber,” he said, his voice rough with need.

Her eyes shone with lust, and the points of her nipples pressed into his chest. “Is your magic recovered enough? I can help.” She licked her lips lazily, her gaze never leaving his. Aislinn’s eyes were golden, just like her mother’s had been.

When Fionn thought about it, he felt like the worst kind of dolt for not recognizing the connection straightaway. Instead it had taken Aislinn running into a ward and nearly dying—and a trip inside her body to Heal her—for him to identify her MacLochlainn blood. Before that, he’d suspected, but the connection had seemed so unlikely, he hadn’t believed it.

“Earth to Fionn?” She smiled softly, fetchingly.