Ann Gimpel (28 page)

Aislinn made a grab for him. “I didn’t tell you because I’ve hardly had a chance to tell you anything. Leave him be. I don’t think he can find his own way out of the labyrinth. Besides, killing him won’t undo what happened. The dragon’s just as guilty as he is.”

Fionn met her gaze, his blue eyes dark as midnight. “He would have raped you, lass, dragon or no, and killed you if Dewi hadn’t shown up.”

She nodded. “I know that.” A knife-like smile split her face. “I’m pretty good at getting to men while they’re lost in lust. Somehow, I would have been fine. The real problem was Dewi. She blocked me from my magic.”

Rune, hackles raised the length of his back, growled. “I told you she was trouble.” What he’d heard pass between Aislinn, Fionn, and Dewi must have upset him terribly. He ran in circles, unable to contain himself. Making a dash for the dragon, he barked and snarled, fell back, and then did it again. Aislinn called him, worried Dewi would turn him into cinders if she got angry enough, but the wolf didn’t listen.

Fionn reeled in his magic. “If ye are certain ye doona wish me to avenge your honor—”

Aislinn shook her head. “Save your magic for when I really need it.”
Besides, you’d have to kill both of them to truly avenge anything.

“I think we’re about ready to go,” Arawn said, once he’d thanked what looked like the last human to check out. “We did better than I expected. Losses on our side totaled forty-six.”

Gwydion, who’d shown up during Fionn’s discussion with Dewi, let out a low whistle and rubbed his hands together. “Aye, good news indeed. I canna think of another battle where we had so few casualties.”

“We need to hear about what happened betwixt you and Slototh.” Bran shot a meaningful look at Aislinn. “But not here.”

“Wait.” Dewi stalked close. Her unsettling gaze zeroed in on Aislinn. “This is an apology to the MacLochlainn. I am sorry. I did not mean to hurt you. It’s not as if you were a maid, after all. I honestly did not know you would be so upset.”

Aislinn moved from under the protective arm Fionn had draped across her back. Squaring her aching shoulders, she faced the dragon. “If you mean that, apology accepted. We can talk more later when I’m not so tired. For now, can you promise me you will never do anything like that to me ever again?”

Dewi nodded.

Sensing a trick, Aislinn snapped, “I need to hear you say it.”

“I will never pull you into something we have not agreed upon again.”

Aislinn closed her eyes. They felt gritty. She opened them and held Dewi’s whirling gaze. “I will hold you to that,” she said solemnly.

“Somehow, I do not doubt it.” Dewi threw back her head and laughed, spewing fire. She was still laughing when she spread her wings and took flight.

“Nice work.” Gwydion dusted the palms of his hands against one another. “That one has needed a good come-uppance for a thousand years.” He gazed around the group. “Where are we going?”

“How about back to Marta’s?” Aislinn suggested. “There’s more food there than any place else I know. Unless one of you has a better suggestion.”

The men looked at one another. Something silent passed between them that Aislinn was too tired to decipher. Left to their own devices, she supposed they’d go back to the Old Country.

“Agreed.” Arawn tried to smile, but he looked as done in as the rest of them.

Fionn held out his arms. “Come here,
mo croi.
I’ll have you home in no time. Once we’re there, I’ll see ye get rest and food.”

He whistled for Rune. The wolf came at a lope. He’d chased the dragon’s flight path from the ground, apparently intent on making certain she was really gone, not simply hiding behind something.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

A
islinn didn’t remember much about the journey back to Marta’s. True to his word, Fionn carried her down the hallway and tucked her into bed. She thought she should clean up first, but couldn’t even get the words out before she fell asleep. She remembered waking to eat. Fionn handed her a bowl, but her efforts to manipulate the spoon were pathetic. After watching her fumbling efforts to feed herself, he filled the spoon and guided it to her mouth until the bowl was empty.

Finally, her eyes opened, and she felt more-or-less like herself. She wondered how long she’d been dead to the world and if it was day or night. Fionn had drawn the curtains, so it was hard to tell. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and walked to the window. Pushing the heavy drapery material aside, she peeked out. A stellar sunset, the sky a panoply of perfect pastels, brought a smile to her face. “Nice to wake up to,” she murmured.

Rune padded into the room, came to her, and licked her hand. “You’re awake.”

“How long did I sleep?”

“Dawn came, and then came again.”

She blinked. It had been nearly night when they’d arrived back at Marta’s, so she’d slept for the better part of two full days. When she turned away from the window, Fionn stood framed in the doorway, the raven perched on his shoulder. “Sleeping beauty. I was wondering if you’d ever waken. Another twenty-four hours, and I’d have gone hunting for a counter spell.”

“American English,” she blurted. “You must really want to be on my good side.”

He shrugged. “Och aye, lass. There, ’tis that a wee bit better, now?”

She laughed. “I think I’ve gotten to where I actually don’t care anymore. Before it hurt because of Mother, but I got to see her again.” Sadness welled. “At least this time I had a chance to tell her I loved her—and goodbye.”

Bella loosed an outraged squawk and flew into the hallway. It bothered Aislinn that the bird hated her mother so, but she couldn’t do much about it.

“I’ll talk to her,” Fionn said, “but later. This is far more important.” He crossed the room and pulled her into his arms. His heartbeat thudded beneath her ear. They stood like that for long moments. Finally, he murmured, “I can draw you a bath. Would ye like that?”

She twisted in his arms, wrinkling her nose. “Yes. I’ll bet you would, too. You’d think I would have gotten used to how badly I stink, but I haven’t.”

“I doona care how ye smell—” he grinned down at her “—so long as ye’re alive.”

As he readied her bath, she walked to the bathroom door, sucked in a breath, and said, “Tell me about Mother.”

He turned to face her. “She was part of the prophecy. I was to wed a MacLochlainn, and Tara was the first…possibility in many hundreds of years. I think I told you that before.” The lines next to his eyes deepened. His American diction was crisp, as if it were less painful to tell the tale that way. “I didn’t love her. Gwydion did. And I knew she loved him, but I pushed forward anyway. Duty drove me. Gwydion understood. He didn’t like it, but he understood.”

“There’s something you’re not telling me.”

Fionn nodded. A corner of his mouth turned down wryly. “Remind me to dull that Seeker gift of yours. Gwydion and I—we had words. Tara overheard. She was afraid we would hurt one another over her. That, combined with pressure from Dewi, was enough to drive your mother out of Ireland.”

“You didn’t go after her.”

The tub was full. Fionn turned off the taps, but Aislinn wasn’t ready to take off her clothes. Not yet. Not until she’d heard everything.

Fionn offered her a sad smile. “I already lived in the United States. But no, I didn’t try to find her. And I called off the other Celts who were searching for her on my behalf.”

“Why?”

“Because something Gwydion shouted at me that night sank into my thick skull. He told me I’d make her miserable and myself, too. That Tara MacLochlainn was a fey creature, with only one foot in this world and the other in the
Dreaming
.”

Aislinn nodded. She knew that about her mother. “So you walked away.”

“Aye.” He quirked a brow. “Are ye wanting to get in afore the water turns stone cold?”

“You can make it warm for me again.”

His mouth twitched. “Get in, wench. I’ll go bring you some dinner.”

“No.” Her mouth went suddenly dry. “I want you to stay.”

“Why?”

His gaze settled on her. She saw hope in his eyes, and something else, too, flickering in their depths. Was he afraid she’d spurn him now that he’d told her the truth?

“Because I had to expose myself to Slototh and feel his disgusting hands and mouth on me. I was held hostage by Dewi and raped by the Minotaur. This is something I want to have happen on my own terms.” She tried to smile, but couldn’t. Turning away, she stripped out of her filthy, stinking clothing, stepped into the tub, and lowered herself into the steaming water.

He didn’t try to talk to her, just sat looking at her as she soaped herself. The water took on a grayish hue. At last, she met his gaze. “You’ve been getting quite the eyeful. Like what you see?”

His breath caught in his throat and made a clicking sound. “Ye are quite possibly the most beautiful creature I’ve ever laid eyes on, lass. With all that red hair floating about you, ye look like a latter day angel. Do ye know how hard it has been not to scoop you out of that bath, lay you on the floor, and have my way with you?”

“Thanks for not.” A smile began in her heart before it spread over her face. “I needed time for myself.” The smile morphed into a grin. “But the water’s pretty disgusting, and I’m ready to get out.”

“I could heat more,” he began and then frowned. “Those bite marks on your breasts and mouth. Did Slototh do that?”

She nodded and tipped her chin up. “I had to lure him closer.”

He shook his head, eyes blazing with compassion. “Nay, doona be defensive. I’m just so sorry. It hurts my heart that I wasna there to protect you. Now, are ye certain ye doona wish more hot water?”

“Yes. We can take another bath later. Together.”

Gripping the sides of the tub, she came to her feet, with water streaming down her body. He handed her a towel. She wrapped it around herself and then grabbed another to soak up water from her hair before stepping out of the tub.

He stood before her, still just watching, giving her all the space she needed. Her gaze traced the familiar lines of his body: wonderfully broad shoulders, slender hips, powerful legs. He wore a cream-colored cotton shirt and snug-fitting jeans. The outline of his cock, hard and waiting for her, was obvious through the fabric. Though it was a challenge to tear her gaze away, she moved it upward to his face. To his incredible, long-lashed eyes shading to deepest blue and the strong, graceful bones in his cheeks and jaw. His lips were slightly parted, waiting. She knew he was waiting for her. Just for her. Only for her.

Aislinn opened her arms. The towels fell to the floor.

Kicking them aside, he came to her and drew her close. “
Mo croi
, I love you. More than is good for me. I love you.”

He crushed his mouth down on hers. His hands roamed down her back and settled on her ass. He pulled her against him and moaned. She heard need and desperation and fear that he’d lost her in the sound, overshadowed by relief that he hadn’t.

She drew away from him long enough to say, “I love you, too. When I thought you were lost to me, I went a little crazy, because I didn’t want to live in a world without you in it.”

He scooped her up as if she weighed nothing and laid her tenderly on the bed. His hands worked the buttons of his fly. He freed himself and then knelt over her, stringing kisses down her body. He nuzzled her breasts, sucking the nipples gently until she reached for his hips, desperate to feel him inside her. He wriggled out of her grasp, slid farther down her body, and settled his mouth over the engorged spot between her legs. She came almost as soon as his tongue twirled around her clitoris, hips bucking against his mouth. He dug his hands into her hips, urging her higher as his tongue worked her. No one was more surprised than she when the spasms of a second climax jolted through her.

“One of these days,” he said as he positioned himself over her, “I’m going to make you come ten times doing that.” His voice was rough with passion. “But just now, I canna wait to feel your body round mine. Ye doona know how close I came to taking you while ye slept. I wanted you that badly, lass.”

She watched his face as he pushed into her, watched his eyes half-close in ecstasy as he withdrew and then, very slowly, slid back inside. She wrapped her legs around his hips, pulled hard to get him to bury himself deep and stay there. Her fingers dug into his back. She rocked her body against him.

He kissed her, tongue pushing inside her mouth as his cock slammed into her. Gentleness gone, they grappled with one another, gasping and panting, grinding their bodies together and seeking release. He groaned, made the wonderful sound like a lion purring that meant he was close. She shoved herself against him, met him stroke for stroke. Feeling him shudder inside her brought her over the edge again. Aislinn clung to him as if he were the only solid thing in a world spinning out of control.

“If the two of you could keep your hands off one another for a few minutes,” Gwydion said, “the lot of us need to talk.”

Rune, who’d been standing guard over them, growled.

Aislinn opened her eyes. The warrior magician stood in the doorway. A deep purple robe was belted at his waist. Unbraided, his blond hair spilled down his shoulders. Blue eyes twinkled merrily.

“What is it with you?” she managed, struggling to catch her breath. “First Bran—or was it Arawn?—and now you. Are all of you voyeurs?”

He grinned at her. “Lass, ye doona know the half of it.”

“Food,” she said. “I need to eat while we talk.”

Fionn hoisted himself up on his forearms. He eyed Gwydion. “Leave us, and we’ll get up. Ye’ll want to give the lass a spot of privacy.”

“Now why would I want to do that? She’s a lush sight for these old eyes.” The slap of his bare feet mingled with laughter as he disappeared down the hall.

They sat around the kitchen table. Arawn and Bran were still in battle leathers, Fionn back in his jeans and shirt. She’d dredged more clothes out of Marta’s closet, finding a black skirt that came to her ankles and a fluffy teal sweater. The woolen garments felt soft against her skin. Rune must have liked them, too, since he’d curled right next to her, his back against her skirt where it fell to the hardwood floor.

Aislinn had eaten until she felt full enough to burst. In between bites, washed down with plenty of mead, she told them about Slototh. “I asked Dewi this.” She glanced around at the men. “Now I’m asking you. Do you think he’s dead?”

All four shook their heads.

“Well, if he’s not dead, where is he?”

“If we got verra lucky, he’s back in the world that spawned him,” Arawn answered, a murderous look in his dark eyes. “Fionn is not the only one of us who’s tangled with that one.”

“Is there any way to know for sure?” Aislinn asked. She’d feel a whole lot better if she knew Slototh wouldn’t be lurking in some dark corridor, lying in wait for her.

“Nay,” Bran said. “I’m thinking we would be better off trying to solve the human hybrid problem.”

Bella squawked from where she’d taken up residence atop the refrigerator.

“What about the other dark gods?” Aislinn asked.

“Aye, there is that problem as well.” Gwydion shot a lascivious look her way.

Fionn must have noticed, because he glared at Gwydion.

“Stop it, you two.” Aislinn rolled her eyes. “I thought we were supposed to be figuring out what to do next.” She looked first at Fionn, then at Gwydion. “I am not Tara. Mother was only a girl when the two of you started haggling over her—”

Aislinn’s jaw clanged shut. Quick as a nod, she was on her feet, hands raised to meet the magic she felt coming toward them. Rune stood next to her, growling. Though she hadn’t seen him move, Fionn was somehow by her side, with Bella on his shoulder. Gwydion, Arawn, and Bran closed ranks, making a wall in front of them. She glanced at Gwydion’s staff, but it wasn’t glowing. Did that mean something magical wasn’t coming? Or was it that the magic wasn’t a threat? She couldn’t tell from the warrior magician’s demeanor. He looked grimly ready for anything.

The air shimmered on the far side of the room. Travis and his civet took shape.

Aislinn blew out a breath. “What the hell, Travis? You scared the crap out of me.”

“Hmph.” Fionn’s face darkened. It was obvious he remembered the Hunter all too well.

Travis looked from one to the other. “Thank God I came out in the right place. I left in a hurry, and I wasn’t sure I had it just right.”

“What’s happened, lad?” Bran asked, concern etched in his face. “Ye sought us out. There must be a reason.”

Bella flew around the room, cawing. The civet hissed at the bird.

Fionn grabbed his raven out of the air. “If ye doona behave better, I’ll be shipping you back to the Old Country.”

“You would never do that,” the bird informed him haughtily. She pulled out of his grasp and landed lightly on the top of the kitchen door.

“Watch me,” Fionn said tightly. His gaze settled on Travis. “I suggest you talk, lad. Something is amiss. I see it in your eyes.”

Travis nodded. “We’re under attack. From the Old Ones.”

Aislinn gasped. “Holy crap! That’s terrible. We figured they’d turn on us, but not this soon. What happened?”

“I’m not sure.” He shrugged. “We’d just gotten back from Arizona and were settling in—you know, hunting and trying to get some rest—when a whole herd of them closed on us. We didn’t think anything of it. I mean, we’d never seen quite that many in one place before, but we figured they were just going to give us more orders.” He took an uneven breath. “We wanted to act normal so they wouldn’t know we were onto them.”