The Morrigan: Damaged Deities (26 page)

Kade glanced at her and smiled in a friendly way.

“He’s quite fine, thank ye for askin’.” 

Her lips thinned and her eyes narrowed. 

She knew what he was doing, answering her questions with false indifference.  And she was perfectly capable of playing his games. 

Crossing her arms, Morrie sighed and faced the window.  She heard him chuckle and all but snarled at him for it.

Honestly, his laughter did things to her. 

She wondered how she could be in the same car as him, surrounded by his wonderful scent and not feel desire.  He kept her confused, uncertain of how to handle these strange feelings just his presence alone elicited.  And her mind wouldn’t stop, couldn’t deny the memories that bubbled up—how his hands had felt on her back when she was in the bathtub, how warm and hard he’d been against her wet and naked form. 

Such delicious contrasts. 

The goddess in her yearned.  She overwhelmed her.  She needed.  She wanted.  She wanted him.

She needed to Shut. The fuck. Up.

“Is this what ye want?” Kade’s question brought Morrie out of her thoughts.  She’d only noticed then that he’d stopped the truck.

“What?” she asked, out of breath. 

Had he read her mind? Did he mean to take her here?  Was that what he’d asked? 

She knew he wouldn’t keep his absurd no touching promise, but she didn’t know how happy she’d be about it.

Kade nodded past her.

“This is the first farm on the outskirts of the village,” he explained and slowly Morrie understood. “Do ye want tae start here?”

He’d meant the search.  Morrie had never felt so awkward and disappointed at once before.

“Oh,” Morrie blinked, looking around. “Yeah.” 

Wrenching the door open, she hopped out and immediately marched towards the home’s front door.

They had hit every home and farm on the way into town and no one had seen their horse.  But the villagers had managed to find a need to have Morrie deal with their own stalls, enlisting her to diagnose every ailment of their livestock. 

It seemed they now thought her less as a horse trainer and more of an all-around animal fixer. 

“This is a pig.”

Morrie looked down at the pink and black spotted oinker rutting in the mud. 

She was well aware she stated the obvious, her tone suggested as much if not her incredulity.  But surprise still gripped her, held her hostage to find Kade and herself standing at the small opening of the pigpen, it’s slatted fencing falling and in need of repair and the sow at the entrance of the slanting shelter. 

Kade stood beside Morrie with his arms crossed, shoulders hunched in that thoughtful way of his.  His one raised eyebrow showed he was just as surprised as she. 

Their search was not going as they intended.

They had asked the old farmer who Morrie was now convinced was either hard of hearing or daft if he had seen a wild horse around his land. 

His milky eyes brightening, he had nodded with enthusiasm and hobbled to the pen behind his house, motioning for Kade and Morrie to follow him. 

Finally, she had hoped they would get somewhere with the beast.

But no.

“Aye, he’s nae bin eatin’ lock normal,” the aged farmer said, clutching his knit cap in his gnarled, arthritic fingers. 

His accent was as thick as Lorna’s, though his lack of teeth—and those that remained were rotted down—made him barely intelligible.

“An’ he’s bin howlin’ somethin’ awfy.  Pigs arenae supposed tae howl, ur they?”

“It’s a
pig
,” Morrie spat and slowly turned to the farmer. 

Kade must have sensed the murder in her voice or certainly seen it in her eyes.  He jumped forward, splaying his large hand across the small of her back to lead her to where the truck was parked and away from the man.

“Aye, Mata, we appreciate ye takin’ the time tae speak with us,” Kade nudged Morrie forward while she continued to glower at the old man over her shoulder. “But we got a horse tae find.  I can get the vet down here first thing in the mornin’.”

“Thenk ye, laird,” the old farmer, Mata, slipped his cap back on. “Ah’ve jist bin sae woriat abit Pentunia.”

“
Petunia
?” Morrie all but screeched.

Kade laughed and kept his grip on her.

“What is he even saying?” Morrie hissed up at Kade. 

But the big brute just shushed her and continued to push her forward, both hands on her hips to get her moving or possibly to help her trudge through the thick mud.

Once shut back up in the truck, Morrie fumed. 

Kade’s poor attempts to mask his laughter seemed to only rankle her more.

“What do they think I am? Doctor fucking Doolittle?” she cried.  But her outburst only broke Kade of his resolve and he laughed outright, leaning forward on the steering wheel.

“It’s not funny,” she bit out.

“It’s a lil’ bit.” His dark eyes gleamed before he started the engine, the truck bouncing with its rumble.

“Just shut up and drive,” Morrie grumbled. 

Kade grinned at her and once again her annoyance was replaced by her white, hot desire. 

Morrie sighed.  It was going to be a very long day.

By the time they drove through the center of town, Morrie’s annoyance over her uncontrollable lust had become a partner in their search. 

Despite all of Kade’s attempts to keep things light between them, her mood had grown sour.  Sullen and pouting, she watched the small downtown pass by as they made their way through. 

What finally brought her out of her discontent was noticing the odd bits of decoration and hangings along shop windows and from inside doorways. 

Several windowsills held the round, orange faces of pumpkin lanterns.  Strings of black bats swung from the eaves of over-hangings; many front stoops held inexplicable empty chairs.

“What is all of that?” Morrie asked.  Kade leaned forward to look past her.

“Have ye never seen Hallowe’en decorations, lass?”

“Oh.  I have…” Morrie frowned back out the window. “I just…is it already Halloween?”

“Will be in a couple o’ weeks.”

“What about the empty chairs?”

“Some o’ the more superstitious believe in the old tales of the dead walking the earth on the eve o’ Samhain.  They leave out an empty chair or a plate o’ food for the souls tae have a place tae rest or a bite tae eat.  I never much cared for the holiday, myself.”

Samhain. 

The dead had not been able to walk the earth since Morrie’s last meeting with Dagda.  She had put an end to that tradition and in doing so, slowly brought an end to all of the supernaturals roaming free. 

She had never really regretted her actions, she’d been devastated by betrayal from both the god and the Celtic hero.  She hadn’t regretted it until now.

No wonder these memories remained fresh, when the mortals insisted on clinging to their silly superstitions, the one thing that seemed to survive every cultural change.

They stopped at a crossroads. 

The cool breeze carried a taste of salt in it.  Morrie turned her head and saw the gray expanse of the ocean just on the horizon.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Kade asked, sliding his arm along the back of Morrie’s seat and leaning close.  His arm was warm against her shoulders.

“Mmm,” Morrie turned her head to find Kade’s face just beside hers.  His sleepy-eyed gaze was on the ocean view beyond, but his body seemed to draw her in, the quirk of his lips calling to her own. 

His nearness tested her and by the way she felt pulled to kiss him, she knew she was failing.  She searched her mind for distractions.

“What body of water is it?”

“That’s the North Channel,” his lashes fluttered and he fixed his eyes on her. “Just beyond it lies Ireland.”

And her arousal was doused by that revelation, like his words had dropped a bucket of ice water over her head. 

She had felt drawn to this area and now she knew why. 

It was where Dagda had taken her that last, fateful night.  And not only that, they were coming up on its anniversary, if one could keep track of such things after so long.

Kade tilted his head, seeing her distress in the paling of her cheeks. “What is it?”

Morrie licked her lips and shook her head, drawing back from him. “Nothing.  Let’s keep going.”

The desire to continue the hunt had left Morrie.  She was no longer interested in the horse, not for the day, anyway, tormented as she was now by other things. 

Somehow in tuned to her emotions, Kade seemed to sense her morose and stayed quiet to allow her time to think. 

She had been feeling that her return to Scotland mocked her.  It had shown just how far she had failed in moving past the past.  She all but accepted that Chulainn would forever haunt her, but—

Morrie’s head snapped up. 

The feeling of something supernatural overwhelmed her, like walking through the thick fog of a raging bonfire.  The air had grown thick with magic.

“Stop!” she ordered Kade. 

Though he frowned at her, he obeyed, bringing the truck to a halt on the side of the road. 

Morrie stared a quaint little cottage surrounded by neat hedgerows and a well manicured lawn, nothing too auspicious or audacious. 

But it might as well have had a sign screaming “Immortals Live Here!” in tacky neon. 

What manner of creature lurked inside, she had to know.  Because there seemed to be no degree of masking the magic within its walls, it was all but blatant. 

“Let’s talk to them.”

“Are ye sure?” asked Kade. “It’s so far away from the manor.  And no one’s seen the beast up tae this point.  Do ye think he’d come this far?”

Morrie couldn’t look away, afraid the cottage would vanish if she did. 

“I want to try anyway,” she answered, still staring at its front door. 

She wrenched the truck door open.

“Morrie, wait—,” Kade begged, but she was already out of the truck and through the rickety gate. 

The air grew smoky with magic, so much it almost made Morrie heady.  There would be no denying the nature of the legends inside, Morrie knew she would identify them in an instant. 

The benefit of being a goddess was that she would remain a mystery to them.  All they would sense was a human, the guise of a small and delicate woman.  And that’s just the way Morrie wanted it.

She rapped on the door, practically giddy with excitement. 

It had been so long since she’d encountered a supernatural.  She’d had hints of their presence over the years, but could never make an identification. 

And of course there was the feeling of supernatural that hung over MacLeod Manor.  Morrie wasn’t fully convinced that household was innocent, but she could at least reason that away as being residual power still clinging to the land. 

But this…

There would be no denying for whatever was inside.

“Morrie…,” she barely noted the concern in Kade’s voice. 

She had just raised her hand to knock again when the door creaked open and an elderly woman in a worn, floral dress answered. 

An enchantress. 

Morrie knew it immediately upon seeing her, despite the inexplicable glamour of old age she wore.

Morrie knew this one had to be a very powerful enchantress, she could feel it rolling off her now. 

But that wasn’t even the magic Morrie felt coming from inside the cottage.  There was someone else.