Haunting Embrace (6 page)

Meaghan swallowed hard. How could she explain
that
to Colleen when she didn’t understand it herself? She looked at Áedán with a helpless expression.

“When I was found, I told Mickey I’d been lost at sea,” he said.

Well, that wouldn’t work twice. No one would believe two strangers had washed up on these shores in the same week. But she couldn’t tell her grandmother the truth. It was too unbelievable.

“I don’t know how I got here, Colleen. I think I must have hit my head. My memory is fuzzy.”

Colleen clicked her tongue at that and narrowed her eyes. She stiffened her back and her lips became a thin line of displeasure. Meaghan realized her lie had offended her.
Shit.

“Colleen—”

“I’ve told you the truth,” she said sharply. “I risked your ridicule, but it’s truth I told. I deserve the same.”

“No, she doesn’t,” Áedán said softly. “No good can come of it.”

“You’re right,” Meaghan answered. Áedán looked stunned at her agreement until she spoke her next words. “You deserve an honest answer.”

Colleen shot her a wary glance.

“I am . . .” Meaghan took a deep breath and—feeling foolish though it was the truth—said in a rush, “I’m from the future.”

As the echo of her words died away, Meaghan braced for Colleen’s guffaw, which never came. Instead her young grandmother gave her a considering once-over and then nodded.

“That would be what Saraid had to say about you.”

“She did? So you knew?”

“How could she know that?” Áedán said.

Colleen shrugged, her eyes sparkling with interest. “Why else would I have risked going to the cavern in a storm? With a baby in my arms and a change of clothes in my bag, no less. Of course I knew.”

“Did she tell you anything else about . . . about who I am?” Meaghan asked, hearing something else in Colleen’s tone.

Áedán stepped closer again, then bent down so that his face was level with hers. “And just who are you, beauty?” he asked in that deep, smoky voice of his. For a moment, he held her captive with his gaze, and it seemed that everything else faded away.

“Oh, she had quite a bit of information, she did,” Colleen said, her voice pulling Meaghan back when she felt like she might fall into the endless green of Áedán’s eyes.

With effort, Meaghan looked past him to where her grandmother sat. Colleen wore a smug expression. Heart pounding, she waited for Colleen to finish, for it was obvious the other woman was taking pleasure in drawing out the drama of her next words.

“Quite a bit of information,” she continued. “She told me you were my granddaughter. What do you say to that?”

“Her granddaughter?” Áedán muttered, “Colleen Ballagh is your
grandmother
?”

“I say it’s unbelievable,” Meaghan murmured softly. “It couldn’t possibly be true.”

Colleen nodded. “Aye, those would be my words, too. And yet, here you are.”

Áedán cursed beneath his breath. “I thought it was chance that brought us both here,” he said. “But I should have seen the truth. It was you, wasn’t it? You did this.”

Did what?
she wanted to snap back at him. What did he think she’d done? How could he imagine that she’d had any control over where the two of them had landed after their narrow escape from the nightmare they’d shared? But she couldn’t say any of that, didn’t dare look at him when Colleen watched her expectantly, waiting for her response.

“Yes,” Meaghan said. “Yes. Here I am.”

“One big happy family,” Áedán murmured darkly before he stalked to the mouth of the cavern and stared out at the storm.

Chapter Four

A
T last the rain slacked and then ceased altogether. Colleen wasted no time leading the way through the small passageway out into the fresh air. Meaghan slung the satchel with her clothes in it over her shoulder and followed, noting that the baby had fallen asleep inside the warm cocoon Colleen had made of her blanket and Áedán’s coat. Now her grandmother carried him without his waking.

With a deep breath, Meaghan emerged from the cavern, feeling as if she’d been within its gaping maw for years. Áedán hesitated before he crossed the threshold, and again she felt that bite of fear in his tangled emotions. When he stepped out, relief washed over her like the brisk air. Had he been afraid that the black abyss would hold him captive, just like the nightmare world they’d barely escaped had? Troubled by the thought, she turned to the familiar sea, surging against the rocks and the crude stairs leading up the side of the cliffs and tried to tamp down her own alarm at such a possibility.

Colleen had already started her ascent, setting a brisk pace, climbing the stairs like a sure-footed goat, baby balanced with what appeared to be little effort. Meaghan followed more slowly. She wasn’t a fan of heights and so took care with each step.

“Why didn’t you tell me Colleen Ballagh was your grandmother?” Áedán asked, following close behind her. His lips brushed her ear when he spoke and his hand settled steady and warm at the curve of her hip as she moved up the next uneven tier.

“When was I to do that?” she whispered back. Colleen had moved ahead and seemed intent only on reaching the top. She hadn’t once glanced back to be sure Meaghan followed, but things were crazy enough without her grandmother hearing and thinking Meaghan talked to herself.

“Do not lie to me again,” he said.

The unfairness of it combined with all of her uncertainty and fear and made her furious. She whipped her head around and glared at him. The action, though childishly satisfying, made her stumble, and if not for his quick reflexes, she’d have careened over the edge.

Stupid.
What was it about this man that made her react without thinking?

For a moment, she was caught up in his arms, held tight against the hard muscles of his chest, wrapped in the seductive scent of him—soap and salty air and something dark and woodsy that was all his own. Time seemed to freeze, and she had the inexplicable feeling that they’d been here before—dangling above an unknown doom, reliant on only the whims of fate and the strength of Áedán’s arms.

Shaken by the disconcerting thought, Meaghan pushed on his chest, but he didn’t back off. She was beginning to realize that Áedán
Brady
was not a man who ever backed off. Up ahead, Colleen continued to climb the stairs with the focused attention Meaghan should have been exerting.

Finally, with a knowing smile, he released her and she stepped away. But it was not so easy to distance him in her mind.

“Back off, Áedán,” she snarled.

He laughed softly, tauntingly. “I don’t think so, beauty.”

Finally, they reached the top of the crumbling stairs, and with a dry mouth, Meaghan gazed at the castle ruins perched at the apex of the island’s craggy edge. On the day she’d gone to the cavern beneath it to look for her brother, the castle had been wholly restored. A home with warm hearths and tapestries.

In the distance rose an ancient dolmen. Comprised of three standing stones with a fourth perched table-like on their shoulders, historians believed dolmens may have been used by the earliest people of Ireland as burial chambers, but no one knew for certain why they’d been constructed thousands of years ago or for what purpose. Folklore painted the formations as portals to the world of the fae, doorways from which the unsuspecting human might be snatched by the fairies, never to be seen again.

Ballyfionúir had its own ghostly figure who walked the valley where this dolmen stood against the elements and time. The people called her spirit the White Ghost or the White Fennore, depending on who told the story. As a child, Meaghan had glimpsed the ethereal woman gliding from the dolmen and for a petrifying moment, it seemed that their eyes had met and locked. Time had stretched unending as the spirit’s emotions bombarded Meaghan, more conflicted and complex than anything her child’s mind could understand. Terrified, she’d fled and had never gone near it again. Even as an adult, Meaghan avoided the tall formation completely.

Colleen stood with her back to Meaghan, staring at the castle ruins eroding down the plummeting cliffs to the sea.

“It’s a sad sight, isn’t it?” Colleen asked without turning around.

Meaghan nodded. “Maybe one day it can be restored.”

“Maybe,” Colleen agreed. “But who would want to do that?”

Her sister’s husband, for one, but Meaghan didn’t say it.

With a sigh, Colleen turned to face her, and then let out a small yelp of surprise. “Mr. Brady. You gave me quite a fright. Where did you come from?”

Surprised speechless, Meaghan spun to face him. Áedán quickly masked his shock at Colleen’s sudden ability to see him and casually turned to give the stairs they’d just come up a fleeting glance, reminding Meaghan of the emotions she’d sensed from him when he’d exited the cavern. He’d said that he’d been on this island for five days, during which time he’d been seen by all. Was it the cavern that made him insubstantial? Or, more likely, the cavern’s innate connection to the Book of Fennore?

The thoughts went through her head in a split second but she was certain she’d stumbled on the reason. From the look in his eye, she guessed Áedán had drawn the same conclusions. Whatever he thought of it, though, he concealed and without missing a beat, turned a heartbreaker’s smile on Colleen.

“You found it,” he said. “My coat. I’ve been looking for it. I went down on the beach exploring last night and realized only this morning that I’d left it on the rocks.”

Colleen stared stupidly at him and then the coat bundled around her baby. “Oh,” she said, a bit breathless, no doubt from his killer smile. Meaghan felt her own pulse speed up at it and he hadn’t even directed it at her.

Blushing, Colleen said, “Yes, we found it in the cavern. I thought it odd that you’d been so careless.”

“I’m afraid I went to the Pier House with Mr. Ballagh and had a few pints,” he said, looking suitably chagrined. “’Tis lucky I didn’t fall down the stairs and break my neck.”

The explanation appeared to be good enough for Colleen. She nodded and moved to unwrap the coat from her sleeping son.

“Don’t disturb him,” Áedán said, stopping her. “I’ll see you back at the house and get it then.”

“I’ll be along shortly,” Colleen said.

Áedán gave her a polite nod and then strode away without another word. Meaghan watched him go, feeling both relieved and afraid. He’d become, once again, her ally in this strangely shifting world, and the thought of him disappearing terrified her. If he could be invisible one moment and seen the next, his very presence could not be relied on. What if he vanished and left her here alone?

Meaghan liked to show the world a face of strength, of confident defiance, of unshakable self-reliance, but inside, she never felt that way, and the last few days had tested her inner strength and made her feel painfully inadequate. Meaghan would forever be the last child, the lost child. Her half brother and half sister had a different father—their mother’s first husband, Cathán MacGrath—and they were twins, connected in ways Meaghan could never be. Meaghan was not a MacGrath. She was a Ballagh and yet, she never quite fit in either genetic pool. Her family loved her, but there had always been something a little odd about Meaghan, not that any of them would say it.

And being unusual in a family where odd was a relative term—well, that had never been a thing to brag about. Deep down, Meaghan had always feared that her abnormalities went far beyond anything her family might have imagined. It was a secret she kept very close.

Drawing in a shaky breath, she forced herself to glance away from Áedán’s retreating back. Down below, the sea looked like an undulating storm, surging with power against the porous stones of the Fennore cliffs. They were jagged and blackened, glistening like rotted teeth against the onslaught of winds, tide, and time. The entire island was surrounded by such barriers, which had kept the Isle of Fennore from habitation for centuries. Invaders had found inhospitable waters and impossible landings when they’d tried to come ashore. Fierce waves had slammed them into rocks while riptides had sucked any survivors down into the cold depths. While the rest of Ireland was pillaged and plundered, the Isle of Fennore remained pristine. The Vikings had called it cursed. The English had called it worthless. The people who finally managed to settle on this island called it a blessing.

Legend said that Ruairi of Fennore had been the first to navigate the vicious seas surrounding the isle, and he’d done it with mystical powers. He hadn’t walked on water, but the stories told of him sailing his small round
curraghs
over the tops of the waves, like hovercrafts over flat terrain. When Meaghan was a child, it had been one of her favorite stories. Ironic, if she was right and Ruairi of Fennore really was her half brother . . . a time traveler just like Meaghan.

Colleen began to walk again, but Meaghan knew in her gut that the woman who would become her grandmother had more to say than what she’d revealed in the cavern, and whatever it was, it wouldn’t be good. Both fascination and fear filled the glance she cast at Meaghan—a look she’d been on the receiving end of many times before from others, but never from her grandmother. Nana Colleen had understood Meaghan like no one else.

Meaghan braced herself for the worst even as she acknowledged that, at this point, she couldn’t even guess what the worst could be.

“It wasn’t just Saraid who told me you were coming,” Colleen said. “I saw it myself, though I didn’t know just what I was seeing.”

Meaghan swallowed a lump in her throat. Her grandmother had visions—sometimes of the future, sometimes of the past. When Meaghan had been a child, Colleen had always known when she’d been up to mischief. She’d always known when her granddaughter was in trouble, too. Often Colleen’s visions came out of sequence and context, but they were rarely wrong.

“What did you see?” Meaghan asked softly.

Colleen’s eyes narrowed and Meaghan watched the swift calculations going on behind them. Meaghan hadn’t asked what she’d meant by “I saw it myself” and now Colleen worked through the implications of that and came to the inevitable conclusion. Meaghan hadn’t asked because she already knew.