Pagan Fire (25 page)

Dylan said nothing. She faced him. His features were shadowed in the growing darkness, except for his eyes. Those eyes! The devil himself would wish for such piercing, black eyes. But what was that she spied in them, if only for a moment? Tenderness? The anger within her faded. “Dylan?” she whispered.

He drew a ragged breath. “I watch over those I love as well.”

She searched his face before presenting him with her back, lest he see the emotions coursing through her. “What are you saying?”

Dylan lifted her heavy braid and his warm hand brushed the back of her neck. Maere shivered with the touch. He caressed the length of hair, loosening the leather tie when he reached the end. Moving with a gentle purpose, Dylan untangled the coppery mass until it hung in waves about her shoulders. “I believe you know what I’m saying,” he whispered against her ear.

Maere turned to him again, her face alight with the glow of the moon, her eyes glittering like emerald stars. They were his undoing. He lowered his mouth to hers, ever so slowly, to give her time to protest. But, oh, how he prayed to the gods she wouldn’t! “Tell me now if you would stop this.”

Maere laughed a little. “Stop a kiss? What harm can there be in a small kiss?”

Dylan’s hands swept over her shoulders and up the side of her face, cupping it. “You might have been in a convent for many years, schooled by virginal women, but I think you know there won’t be just one small kiss between us tonight.”

Her body swam with such feelings—tingling and vibrating all at once, building a hot tension deep in her belly.
No!
She had felt the heat build with Jorvik and she ended up tossing him across the room. She would not hurt Dylan. She loved him too much. Maere pulled away.

She loved him.

“I would not hurt you, Dylan.” She took another step back.

He laughed. “I do not believe you will.”

“You don’t know. Jorvik, the Northman, he tried to kiss me. I sent him flying across the room.”

“You’re not making sense, girl.” Dylan stretched his fingers, forcing some of the tension out of them. If only it could be released so easily from the rest of his body.

She looked so frightened. He moved toward her, suddenly understanding her fears. “Your power.”

Maere nodded.

“Tell me true, did you want him to kiss you?”

“No. Of course not! Why would you ask me such a thing?”

Dylan took another step until he was standing so close he could feel the heat of her body radiating out, touching his. He knew she felt his, too, by the way her eyes darkened. “Tell me true again, do you want me to kiss you?”

Maere blushed. “I don’t understand what your question has to do with any of this.”

“Really?” She was suddenly the shy, quiet Maere he’d sometimes glimpsed when they were children. He smiled. “Don’t you see, Maere? It would make sense your power would protect you from an unwanted attack.” He caressed her cheek. “But if it was something you wanted, it seems that would be a different story.”

“I see.”
Sweet Mother, but his nearness was maddening.
She licked her lips. Ah, mistake that was, as she watched Dylan’s eyes leave hers and travel to her mouth. “Dylan?”

“Yes?”

“What are we going to do?” He had spoken to her of protecting those he loved, like Nimue. Did that mean he loved her? Was it possible to love someone you’d been separated from for so many years? She searched her own heart and realized that, yes, it was possible. The wild boy had grown into a strong man and she found she loved him still.

“Well, I know what I’m going to do.” His hands were in her hair again. “I hope you’re going to return the gesture.” And with that, his lips caught hers, gentle, searching. By the gods, the woman was sweet. He groaned and deepened the kiss.

As soon as his mouth took hers, Maere was undone. Her body caught fire, and it  spiraled through her, burning until she thought she’d die in the flames. It licked at her, teased her, forcing her to beg for release from its wicked taunting.

Dylan raised his head, his voice hoarse when he spoke. “Tell me now if you would stop this, Maere. Else, I will have you this night. You will be my wife in truth and I will love and protect you ‘til the end of my days.”

Maere looked at him with all her love. “I will be your wife, Dylan. I give myself to you. Willingly and with love.” She reached up and pulled him into another kiss. “Always with love.”

They held each other close, their breath intermingling, reveling in the feel of each other’s body. His was hard, tense, muscled, while hers was soft, yielding, eager. Slowly, Dylan released Maere from the embrace and led her to the sheltering boughs of a nearby pine. He dropped to his knees, spread a blanket, and offered his hand to Maere. He held his breath, part of him still fearful she would turn from him.

Maere’s senses danced, alive and heightened. The caress of the gentle night breeze touched her face where Dylan had only a moment before. Desire ran over and through her body. She took a step toward him.

Wings beat overhead and she froze.

An owl hooted nearby and Maere relaxed a little. Nimue’s messenger. Something tickled at the edge of memory. A portent of death, wasn’t it? Nimue sent the owl to gather the souls of those she would have with her. Maere shook off the ill feeling, focusing once again on Dylan.

Then a fierce beating again, much too strong for an owl. Panic replaced desire as Maere looked up.
What in Sweet Jesus’ name?

Dylan was on his feet and rushing toward her. Maere screamed as thick, scaly, talons dug into her shoulders and lifted her from the ground. In the span of a heartbeat, she was carried off into the night by a huge raven. Looking down, she saw only darkness, Dylan was gone.

Chapter Thirty-Two

Maere writhed in pain as the sharp claws of the great bird gripped her. She swung at the raven, each movement bringing even more agony, more blood.

“Release me, Morrigu” she pleaded, but the bird-goddess only cawed at her mockingly and tightened her hold. Maere looked down. The wooded land moved fast beneath her swaying legs as they made their way through the night. “Where are you taking me?” Still no answer, only more evil caws.

What of her power? Where was it now when she needed it? Maere forced herself to concentrate, to try to bend the magic to her will. But she was weak from loss of blood and sheer terror. Darkness hovered at the back of her mind, closing in on her like a black plague.
No! I must stay awake.
But like the goddess, the darkness was too strong for Maere.
Sweet Mother, will I ever be free?
Tears ran down her cheeks as she slipped into the clutches of a dreamless sleep.

* * * *

Dylan knelt beneath the massive pine where he had prepared the marriage bed only moments before, his body shaking. Futility descended upon him. How could anyone fight against such odds as a goddess and her magic? He stared at the trunk’s rough bark, Maere’s screams still echoing in his ears. The gentle tree quivered as it bent its tip to touch the ground near him. A silver-needled branch swept by, then a green pinecone dropped and rolled to a stop in front of Dylan.

Through teary eyes, Dylan reached out and touched the pinecone, closing his fingers around it. Immediately he felt its energy – the resin flowing like life – restoring him. This child of the pine filled him with its hope. He quietly thanked the great tree for its gift as it slowly righted itself.

Dylan held the cone gently in both hands. A glow emanated from its center. It levitated above his palms and began to twirl, taking on the appearance of a full-grown tree, in miniature. He closed his eyes and merged with the memory it held inside. It was from near the top of its mother. It had seen Morrigu taking Maere away! And it knew the direction the goddess flew. The direction he must now travel to bring his beloved home.

* * * *

“Maere? Can you hear me?”

Maere stirred, opening her eyes slightly. The bright morning sun cut through the trees and found her. She quickly shielded her eyes. A woman grown and still the light teased her. “Yes?” Her throat dry and sore, the words came as barely a whisper.

A sigh escaped the person kneeling over her. A cool gentle hand caressed her forehead and smoothed a tangle of hair from her cheek. “It’s Seelie, my friend. Seelie.” She tipped Maere’s head forward and spilled a little water into her mouth from a clay cup.

Maere coughed and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. She rolled to her side, groaning, and tried to force her body into a sitting position, but even the slightest movement brought pain. By the gods, her shoulders were on fire where that devil bird had sunk its knife-like talons into her.
By the gods? Dylan was having an influence.
Panic returned and she focused on Seelie’s face. “Where is Dylan?”

“It’s Dylan you’re worried about and not yourself? If you could see what I see you’d change your mind, quick.” Her tone was light, but her eyes were wide with concern. “You’re hurt Maere. You need to think of yourself right now.”

Was it a trick of the goddess or was Seelie, in truth, here at her side? It made no sense that Morrigu would bring her to her friend. She had to see for herself. Moving slowly, Maere pushed past the pain and rose up on her elbows. She steadied herself and looked over the woman kneeling before her. Her heart jumped. “Oh, Seelie. ‘Tis you. I feared you were long dead.” Tears fell freely down Maere’s cheeks, leaving streaks in the dirt that dusted them.

“I am a slave, but still alive, as you can see,” Seelie said, hugging  Maere to her until the tears slowed. “You’re in Eugis’s camp. Morrigu brought you here last night,” she whispered, turning her head sharply at a sound in the forest. “I can’t stay but a moment. I know not what your uncle might do if we’re found together.”

Seelie gently released Maere. She dipped the edge of her wrap in what remained of the water and washed Maere’s face. “There, now. Much better.” Footsteps sounded nearby. Seelie jumped to her feet, head down, her shawl pulled tight around her face. “I must go. I’ll come see you when I can.”

“No, Seelie, wait. I don’t understand.” Maere extended her hand to stop her but she was already out of reach, heading toward one of the crude structures bordering the encampment. Her strength drained, Maere eased herself back down. Eugis’s camp? Sweet Mother, she prayed. Have mercy on my soul.

“You are good to me, my goddess,” Eugis said. He stood away from his niece, off to the side of the small cluster of tents and fires, and observed her as she talked to her friend.

“True.” Morrigu said. She touched his chin, forcibly drawing his attention back to her. “I believe it is time you showed your gratitude.”

Eugis glanced from Morrigu to Maere, his need growing. His eyes found Morrigu’s and he knew the need wasn’t for her. It was for the power Maere would bring him.

“You hesitate.” Morrigu dropped her hand. “Would you consider denying me my rightful due?” Her face held no emotion, but her words carried a deep and dark undercurrent.

He lowered his mouth near hers. “Nay, goddess. I would worship you for now and always.” His breath caressed her lips. “I thought to complete the task at hand and meet you as you deserve, as your equal.”

Morrigu laughed. “My equal? Do you believe you could ever be my equal?” She grabbed the back of his neck and kissed him hard, punishing him with the intensity of it. Releasing Eugis, she flicked her black hair over her shoulder, revealing a full bare breast. “You will fulfill me now.” She ran a sharp nail along the back of his hand, drawing blood.

Eugis shuddered, his body gone cold. “My mistake.” He opened his arms wide and the goddess stepped into his embrace. He covered her mouth roughly with his own. Let Morrigu say what she would, he knew the legends. His magic would grow a thousandfold when he mated with Maere. He shoved Morrigu to the ground and she laughed out loud. He smiled as he lowered himself, his eyes on the body of the young woman who would make him all-powerful.

Chapter Thirty-Three

“I see your friend has found you.” Eugis nodded his head in Seelie’s direction.

Maere’s eyes flew open. She sucked in her breath. Here was the uncle before her, the one who killed her mother and father, killed Dylan’s father. The uncle who had taken everything from her and wanted even more. She swallowed a wave of nausea and stared hard at him.

He squatted down but still towered over his niece by a head. “No words of welcome for your father’s brother?” He leaned in more closely, as if inspecting her. “Or did the nuns cut out that unruly tongue of yours?”

Maere backed away from him, pain shooting through her shoulders. She didn’t get far before she found herself up against a boulder and could move no more.

Eugis touched her cheek. “Do you even remember me, I wonder?” He let his hand fall to her injured shoulder. “You were so young when last we saw one another.”

Maere shoved his hand away. “Aye, I remember.” She met his eyes. “Everything.”

“Well, then.” He dropped back on his haunches and smoothed his tunic. “Know this: I loved my brother, but I had no choice. He forced my hand.”

He blamed her father? “I see no truth in what you say,” she spat, her anger growing. “My mother and father were not at fault. You are the murderer.”

“So you would think.” Eugis put out a hand, in supplication. “If Manfred had taken my counsel, none of what happened would have been necessary. He chose to ignore my words. The deed is on his head, not mine. He betrothed you to mac Connall’s boy when I knew ‘twould be best if I were to be your husband. Best if the powers stayed within our family.”

Eugis stood and Maere’s eyes traveled up the full length of him. They stopped at his heart, then his eyes. She realized he truly believed his tale. He believed he had no responsibility for those deaths.

“As your only living kin,” he continued, “it falls to me to make certain you are taken care of.”