Stone Guardian (2 page)

Chapter Two

Seattle, WA

May 2012

“You don’t need to go to Scotland. What you need is a night of toe-curling sex until your eyes roll back in your head.” Multiple clicks of a computer keyboard echoed across the bedroom. “How about this one? ‘Urban professional seeks companionship. Enjoys long walks in park. Must love dogs.’”

Emma stumbled from the depths of the closet, grappling against gravity not to lose a single item from the overflowing armload clenched against her chest. “He sounds more like he’s looking for a dog walker. Give it a rest will you? We’ve been over this a thousand times.”

The glowing screen of the laptop highlighted Laynie’s intent scowl at the Web site currently holding her interest. Emma might as well talk to the wall or that pile of clothes on the bed. It would produce the same effect. She’d be completely ignored.

Emma’s little sister pursed pouting lips into a frown as she leaned closer to the computer. “Never mind. He’s got shifty eyes. I bet he’s one of those jerks who doesn’t clean up when the dog poops in the park. I hate those people. I’m going to delete this one from your inbox.” She plunked the keyboard with a decisive tap.

Dropping to her knees beside the bed, Emma inhaled a nose full of dust-bunnies and immediately succumbed to an attack of rapid-fire sneezes. Whacking her head on the steel mattress railing, she blinked against watering eyes and bit her tongue to cut off the tempting curse words begging to be unleashed. “Ow! Laynie, would you please just delete the whole damn account? Didn’t I tell you not to sign me up for that stupid Internet matchmaking service?” The dull throbbing ache in the top of her skull fueled stinging tears as she glared over the edge of the bed. If she knew her aim was better, she’d lob a shoe at stubborn baby sister. But as sure as she did she’d take out the laptop. And that was her
new
laptop intended for the trip. Come to think of it, Laynie was wearing one of the shirts she’d planned on packing
.

Laynie settled more comfortably back into the pile of pillows and pulled the glowing display higher up her thighs. The pale skin of her arms and chest shimmered an electric blue in the eerie light of the computer. Tapping the screen, she arched a brow and nodded. “This one looks promising, he even cooks. Since all you do is push buttons on a microwave, the two of you could be a perfect match. He could do all the cooking and you could take care of any medical issues he might need help with.”

Emma groaned and collapsed face forward on the bed, burying her face in the disheveled depths of the comforter. Why couldn’t Laynie just let it go? It was bad enough when she responded to the personal ads in all those papers and singles magazines but now little sister had loaded Emma’s profile into every dating e-zine on the Web. Emma exhaled a dismal sigh, heating up the folds of the comforter fluttering against her face.

Laynie excelled at signing Emma up for the free thirty-day trial period and then axed the membership either when it was about to start costing a fee or she’d exhausted all the possibilities of the site. Laynie’s matchmaking game was getting a tad old.

“Don’t you think it’s just a waste of time? I’m leaving for the Isle of Lewis tomorrow for at least a year. I’ll be swamped with launching the children’s clinic and I won’t have time for Internet dating while I’m taking care of this project in the Outer Hebrides.”

Laynie frowned at the quietly humming computer balanced on her crossed legs. She pecked on the keyboard then peered over the top of the screen with a determined shake of her head. “No, it is not a waste of time and it wouldn’t take you that long to shoot a couple of e-mails every day between patients or stacking bricks or whatever it is you’re going to do over there. You could still connect with somebody
somewhere
and start a conversation. Cripes’ sake, Emma. Haven’t you heard those stories about people talking over the Internet for a year or so? How they fall in love, arrange a meeting, get married, and have a bazillion kids? Besides, who knows where this person might be? They might end up being over there in Scotland or maybe even in that no-man’s land of an island you’re headed to. You could have a meet up in a pub or something. That island is civilized enough for pubs, right?”

“Snarkiness is a very ugly trait, Laynie.” Emma shot Laynie the sternest look her current frame of mind could muster as she sank back to the floor. Her disgruntled huff stirred the remaining dust balls scurrying across the hardwood floor.
Damn Laynie’s stubborn streak.
When Laynie sank her teeth into something, the girl was worse than an angry bulldog. She never turned loose.

Taking care to tuck the fluffy bedspread around the offensive steel frame that had already whacked her once, Emma stretched back underneath the bed and latched onto the wheel of the elusive suitcase. Fishing the bag between pairs of shoes and storage boxes, she blew out an irritated snort when she finally pulled it free. “Don’t you have a class tonight? Didn’t you tell me finals were coming up?” She had to get Laynie’s mind on something else besides this idiotic Internet-dating marathon. Maybe then, Laynie would settle down and they’d get in one last good visit before Emma left for the Isle of Lewis.

Laynie’s blue eyes narrowed into plotting slits while she propped her chin in her hand. “I’m skipping class tonight because tomorrow you’re deserting me forever. Stop trying to change the subject. How many times have you complained that you’re thirty-three years old and afraid you’ve missed the mating boat? Biological tick-tock, remember?”

“I have never said that—and a year or two is
not
forever.” Emma tossed the suitcase on top of the bed then dropped to all fours in search of another one. Maybe if she crawled under the bed Laynie would eventually get bored and go away. Emma surveyed the space, eyeing the level of dust and the crowded junk crammed under the bed. No. There’s no way she’d ever fit in that space no matter how much she scrunched up.

Laynie’s voice pitched louder from her perch among the pillows. “A year or two
is
forever and maybe you’ve never said it in those exact words, but every time I’ve gone out on a date, I’ve seen that look in those big green eyes of yours. ’Fess up, sis. You’ve spent your entire post-pubescent life raising me and chasing your career. You’ve always focused on taking care of everybody else and never carved out any time for yourself. I might be twelve years younger, Emma, but I’ve noticed all you’ve sacrificed over the years.”

Emma pulled out the other suitcase and flopped it open on the bed. She hadn’t missed the faint tremor in Laynie’s blustering or the moisture shining in baby sister’s eyes. Emma’s extended stay on the Isle of Lewis had been hard for Laynie to accept and lordy, Emma dreaded tomorrow’s good-byes. Her throat ached with a knot of emotions and she blinked against her own tears of pending homesickness. “You know I don’t begrudge a minute of our lives together, Laynie. You’re all I’ve got, baby sister. You know how much I love you.”

Laynie brushed the back of her hand across her face, clearing her throat as she ducked her head. “I know. I just don’t understand why you have to go all the way to Scotland and beyond to set up some sort of children’s clinic. I mean—my gosh, Emma. Isn’t their healthcare already free anyway? I know I’m going to be busy finishing up for boards but we’ve never been that far apart for so long. All your other volunteer stints have only been for a few weeks or a couple of months at the most. Why do you have this need to take care of the entire world? Isn’t there anyone here that might pique your interest well enough to get you to cancel your trip? If I find you somebody, can’t you just stay here and find some people to save on this side of the Atlantic?”

Massaging the inside corners of her stinging eyes, Emma swallowed hard against a renewed threat of tears swelling into a knot of emotions in her throat. How many times had they been over this? Emma sniffed back her insecurities and straightened tensed shoulders. She had to be strong for Laynie’s sake. She couldn’t break down now. “Laynie, I’m not going to the Isle of Lewis in search of some different sort of man and I’m not trying to save the
entire
world. I learned about this grant and decided I was interested in helping these people start their children’s clinic. As I understand it, the poor folks have to travel to the mainland in search of a pediatrician. We’ve talked about this hundreds of times. I’m going to fly you over during Christmas break. Remember? We won’t be separated the entire year.”

“This is May.” Laynie pooched out her lower lip.

“Laynie, come on. Give me a break. You know I’m going to miss you so much it’s already breaking my heart. Don’t do this to me. You’re twenty-one years old and ever since Mom and Dad died, you’ve always acted older than your years. Don’t give me grief now, please?” Emma shook out another shirt and smoothed it across the bed, averting her eyes away from the damning accusations flashing from Laynie’s eyes.

“That one’s mine. You can’t take it.” Laynie pointed at the shirt draped across the rumpled bedspread.

“The pink one’s yours. I bought this one. Remember?” Emma rolled up the shirt and neatly tucked it into a corner of the suitcase, then selected another one from the pile across the bed.

With an evil grin, Laynie plucked the garment from the suitcase and waved it in circles over her head as she darted out the door. “Yeah but those stripes make you look fat. It looks so much better on me.”

The thud of Laynie’s footsteps pattering down the hallway triggered a stronger attack of homesickness in Emma’s already aching heart. “I’m gonna miss you too, baby sister.” With a heavy sigh, Emma swallowed hard and stretched across the bed to grab another shirt.

Chapter Three

A low rumbling tremor thundered into his slumbering awareness, pulling him from the soft inky depths of the unnatural sleep. Torin struggled against the suffocating darkness, thrashing through the numbing confusion swaddling his mind like a woolen fleece. The shrieks of his clan shook through the stillness. He forced his eyes open, sucking in great gulps of air as he sought the unseen foe.

Damn the
Cailleach
.
She had kept her word and had not allowed him to embrace death. She had paralyzed his body and trapped his essence in an accursed realm of stillness. Torin rolled to a crouching position and patted a hand against his thigh. Where the hell was his blade?

The cries of his clan reached a horrific pitch. Their panic surrounded him, crescendoed into a wailing beast summoning him to action. Enough of this damnable curse! The
Cailleach
would toy with him no more. His hand froze where the familiar leather sheath should’ve encased his upper leg. His gaze moved to the cold, still body levitating in the foggy void before him. Torin’s hissing breath stirred the swirling vapors. By all the powers, he’d never dreamed he’d someday face the stiffened form of his own corpse.

Torin edged away from the inert body just as a deeper-pitched roar shattered the air around him. Lifting his head to the sound, Torin held his breath as he searched through the void for the source. He knew that moan disturbing the peace of this darkness. ’Twas a wicked beast he’d battled many times. Arach threatened his clan.

“Return me,
Cailleach.
Arach has breached the threshold and moves toward m’land.” Torin straightened from the defensive crouch and stretched to his full height. The soft black loam of the void swirled around his knees, completely obliterating his lower legs from sight. No footprints. He left no mark in the smoking blanket of soil rolling across the ground. She’d completely severed his spirit from his body when she’d spelled him into the darkness.
Damnaigh the spirit woman!
“Return me to my body,
Cailleach.
Return my soul so I might defend my people against the demon.”

“No. ’Tis not time. I warned ye there would be a cleansing.” The harshness of her voice sliced through the emptiness like a frigid cutting breeze.

Frustration overcame the sense of uneasiness already pounding in his chest. He had to protect his clan from Arach’s destruction. By the time the beast grew bored with torturing his people, they’d long for the blessed escape of death. “My people will suffer much before they die. We have served ye well for eons, mighty
Cailleach
. I canna believe ye’d condemn them to such a cruel end. Return me so I might close the portal before the beast breaches the last of the stones.”

A heavy sigh whispered through the stillness, stirring the barest movement of air into the inky darkness. “Your clan must pay for the path it chose long ago. I can stomach them no longer. But you, my chieftain, you I will not destroy. I have decided to set ye upon another path, a path of hope that joins with another gifted one of my choosing. The two of ye shall redeem the bloodline of the guardians. The clan of the mystics will be reborn. The world shall change much before I allow ye to walk upon it again, my fine chieftain. The stagnant reality ye left long ago shall benefit from this cleansing. Return to your slumber, mighty Torin, for ye willna see your land again until the proper time.”

She dared threaten to destroy his clan and in the same breath, avow to join him with another? The crone dared breed him like a favored stallion? “I need no other to survive this existence nor will my clan need to be rebuilt if ye allow me to stop Arach’s destruction. I have walked the path of foolish matchmaking once before. I willna walk it again.” Torin straightened taller and lifted his chin. The
Cailleach
would heed his words this time. “I canna believe my clan has erred so much as to deserve the punishment of one such as Arach. Return me now so I might save my people. They’ve served ye well, old woman. Dinna condemn them to such a cruel fate.” Torin’s jaw cracked with his clenched teeth. Surely, the
Cailleach
just tested him. Surely, she’d never condemn every member of his clan to such a horrible fate.

“No. The time of your clan is over, my chieftain, but I havena forgotten what few good things they did. The truest ones who didna stray from my path shan’t go tortured or unrewarded. I shall gather the best of your people to my breast and shelter them in the next realm. There will I keep them ’til the time comes for me to summon the choicest of my followers to walk the land again. Return to your dreams until I call ye. The next time ye wake from my spell, I swear to ye, I will set ye firmly upon the path of your true destiny.”