Haunting Desire (7 page)

“Isn’t he a little young for . . . you know.”

Tiarnan’s eyes held amusement as he glanced at Shealy. “No, I don’t know. For what?”

“He’s a minor. That’s illegal in some places.”
Like the USA, for one.
The girl—Sally—had to be at least eighteen, and Liam couldn’t be old enough to drive in most states.

“Two people finding pleasure in one another is illegal where y’ come from?” Tiarnan asked as he began walking in the other direction.

Shealy hurried to follow, not wanting to be left alone in the strange, thick darkness. “When one of them is a child it is.”

“He’s no child, Shealy. Not anymore.”

Yes, she supposed he had a point. She’d seen the look in his eyes when he’d pulled his knife. He’d been prepared to kill her, and she had no doubt that if Tiarnan had been truly injured or—heaven forbid—
dead
, Liam would have struck first and wondered at the rightness of it later.

“I just think he’s too young,” she said. “He should wait.”

“And what is it he should be waiting for?”

“Well, to grow up, for one,” she said.

Tiarnan stopped so suddenly she bumped into his back. He turned and put his hands out to steady her as he gazed into her face. “This is Inis Brandubh, lass. It’s made him a man beyond his years. Besides, he may not have the chance to grow up, and wouldn’t it be a shame for him to miss the only enjoyment he’s likely to ever get?”

His eyes glowed golden in the velvet night and she felt the heat of them as they skimmed her features and then moved lower, lingering on the arch of her throat, the dip of her neckline, the swell of her breasts. She swallowed hard and his mouth twitched, not quite a smile but something close. He looked like he might speak; perhaps suggest that his brother wasn’t the only one old enough for pleasure. A hot, achy feeling settled low inside her, but a shuffling sound interrupted them.

Tiarnan’s reflexes were instant. He turned, putting her behind him as he faced the dark.

“Just me. Jamie,” a deep male voice with an American accent said. “I’ve been waiting for you to get back.”

Shealy peered around Tiarnan’s broad shoulders at the man who’d approached. He was easily as tall as Tiarnan, and brawn and muscle packed his frame. The two men might have been cleaved from the same stone, but the newcomer’s skin color looked closer to ebony than oak. The whites of his eyes glowed in the dark skin surrounding them. He had short hair, shorn almost to the skull, and a military bearing that gave him a formidable appearance, but he flashed a bright and disarming smile.

“Who’s that with you?” he asked, moving closer.

Shealy could feel the tension in Tiarnan’s body as he answered. His hand came up behind him, curling around her thigh, keeping her from stepping out into the open. She didn’t know if this man, Jamie, presented a danger or if Tiarnan had another motive for not wanting her to reveal herself. She didn’t question him. Not here, in this night-drenched world.

“Is that Maggie?” Jamie said.

“No. This is Shealy. She is new.”

“New?” the man exclaimed, and the smile vanished. “There hasn’t been anyone new since . . .”

“I know. And I will tell y’ all about her in the morning. It has been a . . . difficult day. I’m too tired to discuss it now.”

Jamie narrowed his eyes. “Well, welcome, Shealy,” he said, and held out a hand.

She hesitated for a moment, waiting for a signal from Tiarnan. With reluctance he gave it, pulling his fingers from where they rested on her thigh. She stepped out from behind him but only went far enough to lean forward and shake Jamie’s hand and then tuck herself in beside Tiarnan’s body. The moon peeked out for a moment, letting her see more of Jamie’s features than simply eyes and teeth, but she didn’t need the light to feel Jamie’s curiosity as he studied her. She didn’t like it. Too much of her life had been spent under the microscope to enjoy being examined.

“You look familiar,” he said after a long moment.

“Do I?” she answered noncommittally. She got that a lot. The story of her reconstructive surgery after the accident had made her famous, in a wrong sort of way.

He nodded, still peering through the gloom with prying eyes. At last he said, “Before you turn in, T, I wanted to warn you about something. We got us some new neighbors.”

“And who would that be?” Tiarnan asked in a tone that held both hope and wariness.

Shealy grasped Tiarnan’s arm and leaned into him, waiting for Jamie’s answer. Maybe he’d seen her father. Maybe her dad was here, even now. She’d been fighting for her life since the darkness had split and Tiarnan charged out of it, but her father had been in her thoughts every step of the way. A part of her had held tight to the hope that she’d find him before night fell.

“Not who,” Jamie said in a serious voice.
“What
.
”

Jamie paused, and Shealy let her forehead rest on Tiarnan’s shoulder as disappointment washed over her. Not a person, then. Tiarnan’s fingers brushed hers lightly and she realized with a jolt of surprise that in a very short time she’d come to find comfort in his touch.

Jamie went on. “It looked like a cross between an enormous dog and a giant bird. It had three heads and there was more than one of them. Like a pack or a flock
.
It was hard to tell how many there were, the way they moved.”

Tiarnan sucked in a deep breath, and dread seeped into Shealy’s cold body. He’d been fearless through everything they’d endured today—almost eaten by wolves, drowned in waters of ice. His brother had nearly
died
. . . and through it all Tiarnan had been a rock. But now he couldn’t hide the shudder that went through him, and Shealy felt it down to her bones.

“Y’ saw them yerself?” Tiarnan asked.

“Nah, Reyes and Zac spotted them.”

“Where were these creatures seen?”

“Forest,” Jamie said. “Almost in the foothills.”

Tiarnan didn’t hide his surprise when he asked, “Y’ sent them that far?”

Jamie shrugged. “Something’s brewing. You feel it, same as me.”

Shealy stiffened at that. What was brewing? What did they feel?

Tiarnan said, “These monsters they saw, they’re called
ellén trechend
and they are woven in history through tales of horror. It’s said that once upon a time they laid Ireland to waste with their breath of fire. They may not be the size of dragons, but do not misjudge them. Dragons have mass to make them predictable.”

He’d said dragons.
Twice.
Shealy tried to pretend he spoke hypothetically, but she knew he meant it literally.
Dragons.

Unaware of the impact of his words, Tiarnan went on, “An
ellén trechend
is quick and deadly. They are to be feared.”

Jamie snorted. “What the fuck don’t we fear? Tell me that.”

Shealy’d been on Inis Brandubh less than twenty-four hours and already she agreed.

“Did they attack yer people?” Tiarnan asked.

“Nope. Just watched. Looked like they were waiting.”

Tiarnan scowled. She didn’t have to see his face to feel his displeasure. Shealy was far from an expert on Inis Brandubh, but she could figure out that the coming of these creatures was very bad and had Tiarnan worried. Was it the timing? Their arrival on the same day as her father, if Tiarnan could be believed, opened the door to this world? Or was it something else? Something worse?

“Listen,” Jamie said, “just wanted to give you a heads-up. Go get some grub, T. You look done in. I’ve got a patrol set, looking for trouble.”

“Looking for it?” Tiarnan said. “It won’t take them long to find it, not here.”

“Roger that.”

“Tell them to keep sharp. These creatures are smart as a man and as vicious as all the monsters of Inis Brandubh combined. Y’ understand?”

Jamie nodded, his eyes shining and black in the night. Tiarnan gave the other man a weary nod, took Shealy’s hand, and started walking again.

“What’s going on, Tiarnan?” she asked as she fell in step with him. “You said Cathán had monsters that defy the imagination. What’s so special about these ella whatevers?”

He made a soft sound in his throat.
“Ellén trechend
.
”

“Yeah, those.”

“They are legendary, these creatures. Indestructible.”

“Well, I’m pretty sure that dragons are, too.”

“Not so. A dragon can be killed.”

“Anything can be killed, Tiarnan.”

“Aye, us included.”

He did have a point, but it seemed a moot one given all that they faced. “Wasn’t it you who said not to worry about what you can’t change?”

He shot her a surprised glance.

“I’m just saying . . .”

He fell into a pensive silence after that, and she wondered what went on behind those amazing eyes of his. Was he brooding over the latest addition to this monstrous world? Or thinking of Jamie’s words?
Something’s brewing.
Was he searching for the relationship between the shifting climate of Inis Brandubh and Shealy’s father? And more importantly, what would he do if he found a connection?

T
IARNAN felt entirely too nervous as he approached his shelter with Shealy at his side. He hadn’t anticipated being alone with her at this moment. He’d thought his brother would be with him, a buffer to the tension worming through his gut. But only the two of them stood in a quiet that had become strangely intimate.

He lived on the farthest point on the shore in a hut barricaded by trees and bushes. It allowed him the illusion of privacy, of solitude. Now he cursed the seclusion. No good could come of being alone with this woman who already had him feeling like a drop of water on a sizzling stone.

He’d made the door to his hut narrow for defense purposes. The weakest point of the structure, he’d wanted it as small a target as possible and it was only wide enough for him to slip through if he turned sideways. Jamie, who came from a place called Detroit that existed somewhere in the distant future, had muttered about fire codes when he’d seen it and let Tiarnan know in no uncertain terms that he wouldn’t be caught dead sleeping there. That worked out well for both of them, then. On the other side of the door, he’d built brackets and braces to reinforce it. It gave him a false sense of security and though he knew it wasn’t real, it comforted him.
Sometimes.

He held the door open for Shealy, stomach clenching as she went past him to enter. As if hearing his thoughts, she flashed him a silvery glance, scalding him with the shimmering awareness he saw in the depths of her eyes. She hesitated just inside, eyeing the place where he lived, where he slept, forcing him to touch her as he squeezed past.

Once inside, the room seemed surprisingly large with a high ceiling, giving even a big man like Tiarnan enough room to move around. A hole cut in the center of the blackened roof let smoke escape the fire from the pit directly below it. Using a skill he’d learned before his banishment to Inis Brandubh, Tiarnan had strung up a flue made of hide treated with clay that dangled from the hole in the roof to a round flange a few feet over the flames. The furnishings were sparse. He’d made beds of leather hide stretched across wooden frames for himself and his brother and positioned them perpendicular to one another in front of the fire, serving as both seats and a sleeping space. With the abundance of game on Inis Brandubh, he had plenty of furs to keep them warm at night.

His gaze settled on the beds and he realized Shealy stared at them, too.

“So,” she said. “Is there a
sweet Sally
waiting for you to get home with a hot meal and a rubdown?”

“No,” he said, flushing. “There is no one.”

“Is that your choice or aren’t there any other women here?”

There were, in fact, three unattached females on the island. The few others had found mates as soon as possible—it was not wise to be alone in this terrifying world. Each of the single women who remained had made their interest in Tiarnan apparent, but he refused to let any of them get close.

“It is my choice,” he said, frowning at her, hoping to discourage further questions.

“Why?” she asked.

“When we first came,” he said, “there were nearly a hundred of us.”

“A hundred? How is that possible?”

He shook his head. “That is a foolish question, lass. Anything is possible.”

“Were you all together—I mean, were they there with you when you tried to destroy the Book? When you came through?”

“No, yet all are connected to the Book in some way. They came from different times, like y’. Some from the future, some from the past. We have pieced together the theory that they were all near the cavern on the Isle of Fennore where it happened and the echoes of what I did to the Book sucked them in.”

He could see her working through that, trying to understand how his tearing pages from the Book of Fennore had been like ripping a giant hole between the real world and this one. The reverberations of what he’d done had resonated through time, slashing through the layers of past, present, and future, and leaving a gaping maw to devour everything in its wake.

She caught her lip between her teeth and shook her head. He couldn’t tell if she’d grasped the broader implications of it or if it had confounded her. He was too exhausted to trust his own judgment and from the looks of Shealy, she was, too. She swayed unsteadily on her feet.

He forced himself to keep his touch impersonal as he took her arm and led her to Liam’s empty bed. “Sit,” he said.

She caught the edge in his voice and gave him a startled glance. He still held her arm, and he couldn’t quite make himself let go. Some obstinate piece of him, some part he’d thought long ago destroyed, urged him to hold on to her. Keep her close, no matter the cost.

He gave her a gentle push and she plopped onto Liam’s bed, seeming very fragile. But she’d acted with astounding courage today. She’d not lagged in the chase of their lives, had no doubt saved Liam by breathing breath back into his lungs. She’d been terrified, ripped from the security of her own world and plunged into the horror of his. Everything that made him a man responded to the strength and femininity he saw in her even now. It roused a violent instinct in him—a need to protect—that very need he’d warned himself not to feel.