Stone Guardian (26 page)

“Give me your shirt, Torin,” Emma instructed as she turned the little one over and cradled the tot against her chest.

Torin peeled off his long-sleeved black sweater and held it out to Emma. “Her eyes are clear and the colors in her skin are returning to their proper glow. Ye did it, Emma.”

Emma swaddled the mewling baby into the soft black shirt, peering with interest into the child’s inquisitive, lavender-prismed eyes. “So, she’s
supposed
to be this shade of iridescent silver?”

“Aye.” Torin’s voice quieted to an adoring whisper as he stroked a hesitant fingertip against the wriggling baby’s cheek. “She’s a royal from the bloodline of the mists. When ye see a rainbow shimmering after a storm, ’tis her clan who has painted the lovely colors against the sky.” Torin’s expression darkened; his thoughtful smile faded to a tight-lipped scowl. “The kelpies and the Fae of the mists have battled for eons. This one’s clan must’ve fallen. One so young would ne’er be left unguarded.”

Another eerie howl echoed across the coastline, the repeated cry drowned out the sound of the foam-filled waves crashing along the strand.

Dragging her gaze away from the fussing baby’s face, Emma frowned at the baying hound. “Why do you keep doing that? I’m not an expert on fairy babies but I think she’s going to be okay.” Emma hitched the tot higher up in her arms and snugged the shirt closer about the little one’s squirming body. From the increasing strength of the toddler’s churning legs, Emma felt sure the fairy child had successfully survived her ordeal.

“Tell her,” Cu Sith
growled toward Torin then inhaled a great, chest-expanding breath and resumed his mournful howling.

“He calls her people to come for her and”—Torin cupped Emma’s face in his hand—“he’s singing your praises across the realities.”

Chapter Forty-Three

An insistent wail increased in pitch, jolting Emma from the unconscious depths of her weariness. Torin’s warm touch pressed her back into the pillows. His lips brushed against her cheek as his husky whisper rasped through the half-light of the room. “Stay, Emma. I’ll get the wee lassie this time. Ye need to get some sleep.”

The thud of his feet hitting the hardwood floor as he dragged himself out of the bed convinced Emma to let Torin have a turn. For the past five days, their little house guest had fretted every hour like clockwork through the night until the first chimes of morning rang. As soon as the sun peeped over the horizon, her silvery lashes fell to her cheeks and she slept soundly through most of the day. Emma didn’t know what time zone spanned the land of the Fae but the baby’s days and nights didn’t match theirs.

Emma was too exhausted to go back to sleep. Working at the clinic each day after tending the baby all night was beginning to take its toll. She had a newfound respect for working mothers. How in the world did they function with little or no rest?

A tuneless song sprinkled with the odd Gaelic phrase here and there kept time with the baby’s hiccupping cries. Emma smiled. Poor Torin. He sang even worse than she did. Forcing open her weighted eyelids, Emma rolled to her side and propped herself on one elbow so she could peer across the foot of the bed.

The displeased Fae princess fisted her little hands on Torin’s bare shoulder as he cradled her against his chest. Her golden curls tumbled over Torin’s outspread fingers as he supported her little head. With a bouncing walk keeping time with his humming tune, Torin paced back and forth through the patch of moonlight forcing the darkness from the room. The blue-white light streaming through the window colored his body in an eerie glow. The silver-tinged skin of the wailing Fae child sparkled as though the unhappy little girl had been dusted with ground diamonds.

As Torin’s tuneless song lilted through the night, the baby’s fussing diminished to an occasional grumble every few minutes. But her round dark eyes remained wide open. There wasn’t a hint of sleepiness in her alert, little face.

Emma smiled at Torin’s contented expression. Chin tucked. Eyes partially closed. A half-smile played across his weary face. Her heart pulled at the gentle way he cuddled the child, trying to convince the baby to sleep. Half-closing her eyes, Emma indulged in a rare fantasy. Maybe this is what it would’ve been like if she’d ever met someone and had children of her own. A cozy little house. A thoughtful husband helping with their fussy baby. If only. Jerking her eyes wide open, Emma shoved the tempting dream from her mind. It was too late. That life wasn’t meant for her. She might as well not even think about it.

Torin’s pacing stopped and his eyes flew open. Even in the darkness, Emma could see the pain shining from their depths.

“Emma. It is not too late. Dinna condemn yourself to a life of solitude. That is nay your path.”

His whispered words chilled her to the bone. She’d scolded him before about reading her mind. He knew better. What else did the scarred warrior know about the insecurities spinning about in her head? “I’ve asked you not to do that.” Emma scooted to the end of the bed, folding her legs as she pulled herself upright and propped an elbow on each knee. Leaning against her clasped hands, Emma stifled a jaw-cracking yawn. “Stop reading my mind. Period.”

Torin swayed another lap through the moonlight, smiling down at the now-cooing child squirming in his arms. “I didna read your mind, my heart. Your emotions echoed through the darkness much louder than thoughts or words.” Settling on the end of the bed beside her, Torin shifted the Fae princess to a sitting position in the crook of his arm. “We could have this happiness, Emma. This simple joy could someday be ours.”

Uncertainty panged through Emma’s being steadier than her heartbeat. No matter how much she longed to believe those words, she just couldn’t see how it could ever be. She’d waited too long and now her life had spun out of control in some sort of hocus-pocus mess. How could she ever know something as simple as hearth, home and a family? “No, Torin. I may be a lot of things, but the main thing I am is realistic.” Holding out both hands toward the wide-eyed baby, Emma blinked the threat of tears from her eyes. “Give her to me and get some rest. I’m wide-awake with all this confusion in my head and I want to enjoy her as much as I can. I’m sure Cu Sith
will find her family soon and we’ll have to give her back.”

Torin’s lips tightened into a disapproving line. His face darkened as he stared down at the child. “Why won’t ye listen to me, Emma? Why won’t ye trust in what I say?”

Hugging the squirming baby to her chest, Emma inhaled the intoxicating scent of the tot. Lavender mixed with the baby’s milky breath awakened an ancient longing from the depths of her womb. Emma swallowed hard, struggling against the magic of the baby’s fragrance and the instincts the warm bundle triggered. Rubbing her cheek against the child’s silky hair, Emma breathed in another delicious breath. She didn’t know if it was the moonlight, the weariness, or Torin’s close proximity but she couldn’t remember ever wanting a child of her own as badly as she wanted one now.

She longed to trust Torin’s words. But how could she? She wasn’t blind. Torin detested every minute he spent trapped in this world. He’d be gone as soon as possible and she couldn’t convince herself to go with him. How could she ever leave everything she’d ever known? Drawing in another shaking breath, Emma cradled the baby closer as she rose from the end of the bed. “Go to sleep, Torin. There’s no sense in discussing this now.”

“We could have this, Emma.” His whisper echoed through the darkness, his brogue tinged with insistence.

Emma shook her head as she strolled to the window, turning so the baby could reach toward the glowing moon smiling down from the blue-black sky. “No, Torin. You’re leaving as soon as we finish whatever it is that we’re supposed to do. Now, go to sleep. I’m too tired to argue about this now.”

Torin blew out a frustrated breath; his eyes snapped in the darkness. Jumping up from the bed, he stomped to the bedroom door, pausing after he yanked it open. “I canna sleep when ye willna see reason. I’ll be outside searching for guidance among the stars.”

“Find some for me too,” Emma whispered over the top of the baby’s head as the door closed with a quiet bang.

Chapter Forty-Four

She’d held the child as though it were her own, her eyes misting with unshed tears when the grateful family had finally eased the baby from her arms. Emma had cared for the little one for seven days. It took Cu Sith
that long to gather the royal Fae child’s scattered kin. The kelpies had decimated the baby’s clan and surviving family members were few. But the faery hound had finally found them and brought them back to their offspring.

Now she stood staring out the window, her gaze rooted to the spot where the Fae had shimmered back into the mist. Torin’s heart swelled with renewed hope and aching love, the more he learned about this headstrong woman from this chaotic time, the more he decided life might be worth enjoying. Lore, he never thought he’d ever experience such a knowing, such a certainty within his heart. Emma possessed his very soul. Clearing his throat, Torin spoke softly. He hated intruding on Emma’s pain. “Ye know ye will see young Alaria again?”

Emma sniffed. She didn’t answer, just pressed her forehead against the pane of glass.

“She needed to be with her people, Emma. They’ll properly guide her as she matures.” Torin eased his arms around her tensed body and propped his chin atop her shoulder. “That way, she’ll never experience the frustration of trying to discover her heritage. She’ll no’ suffer with the shocking discovery of the truth of her destiny—as you have.”

“I know,” Emma whispered. Her voice quivered with raw emotion. “I’m just so used to always having someone to look out for…and now, she’s gone too.”

Maybe now was the time to convince her to travel with him to join his clan. Her acceptance of her fate and control of her powers had grown over the past few weeks. They’d soon be able to face Arach and hopefully, reseal the portal. Then
Cailleach na Mointeach
would grant him passage across the web of dimensions. Finally. He’d be able to shed this world, freeing himself of the constant confusion as though shaking the dust from his plaid. But he couldn’t bear the thought of leaving this reality without Emma at his side. “Then say ye’ll stay with me forever, Emma. Ye can care for me. I need ye even more than that wee child did. I’ll always need ye, Emma,” Torin whispered against the velvet skin of her ear. He cuddled her body back against his chest.

“I didn’t think you liked it here.” Emma shuddered with a despondent sigh, pulling out of his embrace to lean forward against the windowsill.

Torin tensed, missing the loss of her sweet warmth pressed against his chest. Had he been so transparent in his longing to leave this world? He thought he’d hidden his unhappiness better. Now that she’d sensed it, perhaps it best if he simply told her the truth. “I dinna belong here. Ye know that full well. This reality swarms with the chaos of man’s bending of the natural ways. But that doesna mean we canna be together.” Stalling for time with a fortifying breath, Torin tumbled his thoughts off his tongue. “Ye can travel with me across the dimensions. Say ye’ll come with me, Emma. Pass with me through the veil. We can be happy together in the simplicity of the higher level. We can even have our own family.” There. He’d said it. Torin held his breath, waiting for Emma’s reaction.

She stood as though frozen, her forehead pressed against the window. Had she heard him? Or had those thoughts whirling through her lovely head drowned his voice from her ears? Then she stirred, looping a stray curl behind one ear and ducking her head as she turned. His heart fell at the rejection shouting from her hooded expression. With a furrowed brow, she avoided his gaze, her lower lip caught between her teeth. The woman prepared to break his heart. The silence between them screamed her refusal. Torin could not bear it. “Emma. Ye must no’ refuse me. Ye know we belong together.”

“I can’t do it, Torin. I’m sorry but I can’t abandon everything in this world. I don’t really understand exactly what you’re talking about, but it sounds too permanent…too unknown.” Emma shuffled her feet, her gaze focused on the floor as though something extremely interesting was about to spring up from the carpet. “What you’re suggesting sounds almost as permanent as death.” Emma hugged herself farther away from him, drawing in a sobbing breath as she raised her head and finally met his gaze. “I just can’t do it, Torin. I don’t belong wherever it is you’re headed any more than you belong here.”

His body grew numb at her words. How could the woman turn her back on all they had become? “Then what are we to do, Emma? As soon as we’re able to close the portal, I must leave this world.”

“I don’t know.” Emma turned back to the window, shutting him out as she stared out into the gathering dusk.

Chapter Forty-Five

His deep breathing echoed a slow relaxed rhythm, barely stirring his warm comforting body pressed against her side.
Finally.
Emma eased up on her side and peered down into Torin’s relaxed face. She’d thought he’d never fall asleep. His determined cajoling for a promise to join him when he left this world had escalated into a frustrated rant. The only way she’d succeeded in silencing him was when she threatened to leave the Isle of Lewis and never look back. When she’d shouted that threat, he’d closed his mouth into a flat sullen line and not uttered another word.

Emma eased in a shaking breath. The warm scent of him stretched out beside her fanned the smoldering fire in her belly and the growing ache in her heart. She never tired of wanting him. Torin satisfied every need she’d ever dreamt of and a few she never knew existed. How was it that such a frustrating man could set her on fire with just a glance? With the barest of touches, she traced the tips of her fingers along the curves of his expansive chest. How on earth could she consider doing what he suggested? Leave this place. All she knew and all she ever loved. Emma flattened her hand atop the scarred center of Torin’s torso. But if she didn’t follow him through the veil, how could she bear his leaving?

Strands of clouds as thin as worn linen skittered across the face of the moon. The eerie white beam struggled through the window, casting a bluish glow across Torin’s skin. Emma leaned over, closing her eyes as she pressed her face against his smooth torso. Indecision fueled the aching knot of emotions closing off her throat. Inhaling the spicy scent of his body, Emma snuggled closer against his side. How had life gotten so complicated? Easing her arm across his chest and stretching her leg across his thighs, Emma forced the worry to the back of her mind. Maybe she’d find a way to get him to stay. There had to be something in this world that he’d not be willing to let go.