She shrugged. “Suit yourself.” She ran up the steps and into the cabin, finding a banquet of food on the table. She ladled porridge into a bowl, topped it with fresh berries and cream, and dug in, nibbling on the meats and cheeses between bites. She poured herself a steaming cup of tea. She would have preferred coffee, but she hadn’t seen any since she arrived. The oats were creamy and delicious and filled her up with warm comfort. By the time she washed down the last bite, she thought she might explode.
The door opened and Xavier stepped inside. She froze, slowly lowering her teacup to the table. The first thing she noticed was the kilt, a beautiful brown-and-blue tartan kept in place by a leather belt with a dirk at the hip. His shirt was a loose-fitting linen with buttons at the neck, and over it was a vest and jacket in deep blue. But it was his clean-shaven face that arrested her, as well as his hair, which he’d tied back at the base of his neck in a sort of long, masculine ponytail.
Avery was struck speechless. The man was stunning. She rested her chin on her fist to keep her mouth shut.
“Have ye left any for me?” he asked, one blue eye winking.
She leaned back and raised her chin. “Plenty. Might not be as warm as it was.”
He sat down beside her and loaded a bowl. She fought the urge to stare as he began to eat.
“Whit does a woman such as yerself do in the outside world?” he asked. “Since ye said ye weren’t a proper lass.” The crooked smile he gave her was almost indecent, and a warm tingle uncurled in her lower belly. She took a sip of tea to loosen her thickening tongue.
“I work in a pub. I’m a bartender and a waitress.”
“Ah, a serving wench. No wonder ye speak like a man.”
“What? I don’t speak like a man!” Heat crept up her neck to her cheeks.
“Aye, you do. There’s no weakness ta ye. Ye say everything that comes inta yer mind with a fair bit of strong language as well.”
“I promise you, loads of women in the outside world speak far worse than me. Out there, women are equal to men in almost every way.”
“Heh?” He scowled.
“Yes. Most wear pants actually.”
He looked at her strangely, and she realized that in a land where men wore kilts, that didn’t hold the power she’d hoped it would.
“Many own their own businesses. My mother owns the pub where I work, and she’s run it on her own for years.”
He rubbed his smooth jaw. “It’s different, ye say, than here?”
“More than you know.” She watched him eat for a few minutes, her mind lingering on their talk of the outside world. It reminded her again that she didn’t belong here. She’d already stayed far longer than she’d planned. Raven and the others must be worried sick. She had to convince Xavier to return with her. “I don’t suppose I can change your mind about forgetting Lachlan and going back with me?”
He shook his head.
Avery sighed. “Then what’s your plan for taking back Castle Dunchridhe? None of the people remember you, Xavier. How do you plan to take Lachlan on without help?”
“Aye. The clan is under his control. Ta conquer the castle, we’ll have to kill him first… free them from his hold.”
“But how do you plan to do that? You could shift and attack the castle in your dragon form, but won’t that be dangerous for the people inside? And if you attack in your human form, won’t you be vulnerable to Lachlan’s tricks and his mind control over his guards?”
“Aye. And more. Lachlan is immortal, as am I. I can try to tear him apart, but he’ll be very hard to kill, and in the process, he’ll use my people against me. I’m immune to his magic, ye ken. One against one, I’d not be worried. But I’ll not risk ma clan.”
“But then, how do you intend to kill him?”
“’Tis the problem, eh? Now that we’ve a place to stay and a brownie to help us, I’ll be usin’ all the tools at my disposal to find a way. I donna suppose ye have a book on ways to kill fairies in that sack of yers?”
She snorted. “No. You’re on your own.”
“Aye.”
Having finished his meal, he stood. “If ye’ll excuse me, I must tend to the horse and the cow.”
She stood. “Right. Do you need help?”
He smiled and shook his head. “Nay. Make yerself comfortable. Ye can have the bedroom. I’ll fix myself a bed out here.”
Avery had been so lost in her thoughts she hadn’t given much consideration to the sleeping arrangements or that the cottage only had one bed. There was no way he would fit on the simple piece of furniture that served as a sofa in this room. Still, somehow they’d have to make do. She nodded, and he turned to leave.
“Uh, Xavier?”
“Aye?”
“Where did you bathe? I’d like to… clean up.” She flipped a piece of her hair between her fingers. She was in desperate need of a bath. She hadn’t even brushed her hair or teeth today.
“In the river, but I’d say it might be a wee bit cold for ye. Why not make use of the tub?”
“There’s a tub?” Her eyebrows rose.
“Aye. Here, I’ll help you with it.” He disappeared out the door and returned with a simple wooden tub that reminded her of the bottom of a large barrel. “I saw it on the porch when I came in. Ye’ll have to haul water from the pump and boil it over the fire, but I ken it’ll be better for ye.”
“Thank you.”
“I can help ye if ye wait.”
At first Avery thought he was being lecherous, offering to help her with her bath, but then she realized he was simply being courteous. It would take several buckets of water to fill the tub and no doubt he assumed that a woman would struggle to do it herself.
Avery shook her head. “I’m stronger than I look.”
He tipped his head and flashed her a sideways smile, then slipped out the door.
Avery placed another log on the fire and dusted her hands. The tub wasn’t going to fill itself. She followed Xavier out the door, found a bucket and the well, and started pumping. The water that flowed was cool and sweet and came easily out of the spout as if it were already primed.
She wondered if it was this place. The brownie, who still hadn’t reappeared, must have lived here for some time. Nathaniel had said that Mistwood was infused with his magic due to his long-term residence there. Might this property be infused with the brownie’s magic?
She carried the bucket back to the cabin and poured it into the cauldron near the fire and swung it over the flames. Then she collected another and another, alternating one in the tub and one over the fire, until the water started to boil. She used a wadded towel to carefully tip the boiling water into the cool liquid already in the tub, then tested it for temperature.
“Perfect.” The tub wasn’t large enough for her to fully stretch out, but it would do. She began the arduous process of unfastening each piece of her clothing, cursing the rigors of eighteenth-century fashion, until finally she pulled her chemise over her head and stepped into the water.
The tub was deep enough to almost cover her with her knees bent. She leaned her shoulders against the edge and closed her eyes, allowing the heat of the water to soak into her. After a few heavenly moments, she reached for her bag and the small bottles of bathroom sundries she’d stashed away. She’d never used them at the castle, only the homemade soap they’d given her. No better time than the present. She started to scrub and immediately felt better. The welcome scent of modern shampoo wrapped around her, and she bent her knees closer to her chest to sink beneath the water and rinse her hair.
She broke the surface, wiped the water from her eyes, and came face-to-face with fur and brown eyes. “Ahhhh!” The scream broke her lips before she could stop it.
The brownie jumped, emitted a high-pitched squeak, and scurried into the bedroom, slamming the door behind him. Avery reached for a towel, her skin dripping on the woven rug, and realized she didn’t have one. She tried to reach for her clothes instead. The door opened. She froze.
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Xavier’s blue eyes locked on her, grew wide, and then he blinked out of sight.
“It doesn’t help if you’re invisible!” she yelled, her fingers finally finding purchase on her arisaid and pulling it to drape over the top of the tub.
“I thought it would make ye more comfortable,” Xavier said, blinking back into her field of vision with a roguish smile on his face and a laugh in his voice.
“Why would it make me more comfortable if you can see me but I can’t see you?” She tugged the cloth higher on her neck.
He smiled wider. “Well, at least ye can pretend I didna see you as God created ye.”
Avery stood up, wrapped the tartan around her and stormed toward the bedroom. When she opened the door, the brownie raced past her and hid behind Xavier’s legs.
“Oh, for the love of all that is holy!” Avery cursed and slammed the door behind her.
Chapter Fifteen
The woman reminded Xavier of the Mountain—the goddess of the mountain. She reminded him of home. Avery must have fire in her blood the way her blue eyes burned when she countered him with her wit. She wasn’t spoiled, that was certain. Her skin might be as smooth as a Highborn lady’s, but she carried water like a Highland farm girl. She was an enigma.
Xavier looked down at the brownie hiding behind his legs. “I donna ken whit she’s so up in arms about. Nothin’ ta be ashamed of on that one.”
The furry man nodded. Xavier carried the tub outside to drain it and then returned it to where he’d found it. Upon reentering the cottage, he heard the bedroom door open. Avery emerged dressed in a blue skirt and a jacket lined in fur with gold stitching. Xavier had spent enough time in the care of oreads to know when a garment was made by the supernatural.
“Lovely,” he murmured.
She smiled, running her fingers through her wet hair. “Our furry friend outdid himself. This isn’t just beautiful, it’s functional. Light and soft.”
“’Tis fairy made,” Xavier said. “I suspect this brownie fancies ye to give ye that.”
In fact, the brownie was staring at her with such reverence, Xavier wondered if the poor beast didn’t adore the woman something fierce, and didn’t that raise on odd and unexpected ache in his chest? He watched Avery dig in her bag for a hairbrush and draw her long hair over her shoulder to brush out the ends.
He approached her and reached for the brush. “Allow me.”
“You’re going to brush my hair?”
“Aye.” When she made a strange face, he added, “I’ve seen women do this for each other, and since there are na women here, it’s ma duty to fill in.”
She met his eyes and gave him a little nod, then followed his suggestion to sit on the bench near the fire. The heat would help dry her black locks. He stood behind her and began to run the strange brush through her hair.
“Whit is this tool constructed of?” he asked. The material was smooth as stone but lighter than wood.
“Plastic.”
“Whit’s plastic?”
She giggled. “It’s a man-made material from the modern world.”
“Much has changed since I laid the wards.”
“More than I can explain.”
The room grew quiet aside from the crackle of the fire and the sound of their breathing.
“Can I ask ye something, Avery?” He slowed his brushing.
“Sure.”
“You’ve a scar across yer chest.”
She glanced over her shoulder at him. “You saw more than I thought you did.”
He grunted. “It was above the surface.”
She smiled softly. “I was robbed at knifepoint. The man cut me when I fought him off.”
“You fought a man with a dirk? And withoot one yerself? Yer lucky to be alive.”
She snorted. “Actually, I injured him far worse. Kicked him through a glass countertop. He had to be hospitalized.”
Xavier couldn’t help but smile at the thought of Avery making a joke of her assailant. “Curaidh.”
“What does that mean?”
“It’s a Gaelic word for warrior. Ye’ve a warrior’s blood in ye.”
“You think I’m a warrior?”
“Aye. Normal women donna rescue dragons by their lonesome.”
She smiled and looked down at her hands. “I’ve been thinking,” she said. “I understand that you don’t want to come back with me, but Nathaniel would be far more help than I would to take back the castle. Why don’t you fly me out of the ward, and I’ll tell him you need his help? If you made the ward, you should be able to allow him through, right?”
He brushed her hair from crown to end, marveling at the black shine in the firelight and the scent of wisteria that filled his nose with each swipe. His inner dragon twisted and chuffed. He didn’t want her to go.
“I can’t.”
She frowned. “Why not?”
“The ward was constructed with the strongest magic known to fairy, dragon, and witch. A ward of its size has never been constructed before.”
“Nathaniel told me. He said he helped you.”
“Aye. He helped me and yet he can’t pass through it.” Her hair felt like silk and he caught himself running his fingers over it unnecessarily. “Ye will recall the door is straight up. If I fly you out of it, I’ll also have to fly ye to safety, and the risk is, if Lachlan has tampered with the ward, I may na be able to return.”
“I remember you saying something about that before.”
“And while I could toss ye through the door, unless there be someone on the other side to catch ye, I’m afraid ye’d fall to your death.”
She released a deep breath and turned back toward the fire. “I’d rather not be thrown into the void. Yes, I can see now where it’s not a viable plan.”
He hated the look on her face. Avery was practically a stranger to him, but already she’d proven talented enough to win employment in the castle, cunning enough to fool Lachlan, brave enough to find him in the dungeon, and mysterious enough to somehow free him from his cage. He shouldn’t forget beautiful. She was achingly beautiful and as stubborn as a mule when she wanted to be.
He drew the brush down the length of her hair once more. “What if we make a pact, ye and I? I need yer help, Avery. You’re the only one I can trust at the moment to help me right this wrong. If ye’ll stay and help me, I promise to take you home just as soon ma sword sets Lachlan’s head to roll.”
“And if we fail?”
“Well then, I reckon ye’ll be able to walk out on yer own. If I die, and make no mistake, he’ll have to kill me this time, the wards will fail. You can take Tàirn and ride west. Maybe twenty miles as the crow flies and you’ll pass right through into yer world.”
She rubbed her thumb against her palm. “I suppose I made my choice when I dropped from Nathaniel’s arms.”
Guilt tugged at Xavier’s heart. He frowned and set the brush on the bench beside her. “Nay, lass, there is one other way. I can take ye back to the door and use my ring ta try ta open a passage through fur ye. It might work in the spot directly under the gate. Ye see, there is only one door into the builgean because from the outside, that is the only point reachable. But it is a different matter from the inside. If we go ta the ward, I might be able to pass ye through.” He wasn’t sure it would work. If Lachlan had altered the wards, it wouldn’t.
“But you couldn’t come with me.”
“No.”
“And you’d have to face Lachlan alone.”
“Aye.”
She turned again to face him. “Are you willing to do that for me?”
He stared at her long and hard, and the oddest thought popped into his head. Her eyes were blue like his. If they ever had children, the bairns would be blue-eyed and perhaps dark-haired. What an odd thought. He barely knew the woman. Besides, he wasn’t sure dragons and humans could produce young.
“Aye, for ye I would.”
Avery had promised herself she’d stop living her life for others
. She’d carried other people’s burdens for too long, first for her sister, then for her mother, and finally for her father. That last one had almost gotten her killed when Aborella, a deadly fairy from Paragon, had used him for her wicked ends. Now Xavier was asking her to help him kill another fairy, one that might be even more dangerous than Aborella.
Avery had come here to learn who she really was, to do her own thing, have her own adventures. If she stayed and helped Xavier, was she being true to herself? More importantly, after everything that had happened with Aborella, was she willing to face off against a powerful fairy again?
Only, the more she thought about it, the more her instincts told her to stay. This place and this man challenged her in ways she’d never been challenged before. The way he looked at her now, almost pleading for her help, was dripping with respect and pure unadulterated hope. He needed her. It didn’t hurt that the sight of him made her ovaries quiver either. The man was a piece of art.
But she couldn’t and wouldn’t stay for him alone. That wasn’t a good enough reason. Her thoughts trailed to the scar still pink along her chest. She wasn’t helpless. When she’d faced Aborella, she hadn’t even known fairies existed, and now, even though she was not blessed with the powers of her sisters, she was here. She had freed Xavier. It made her feel proud, like she’d earned his label for her—warrior. Was she the only one willing and able to help him face Lachlan? If so, she wanted to rise to this challenge. This was who she was, and she would not back down from it.
“I’ll stay,” she said firmly. “I’ll help you.” The crooked smile he rewarded her with seemed to wrap around her like a blanket, and the heat it produced made everything inside her melt like warm butter on toast. She caught herself staring and looked away. “So where do we start?”
Xavier cleared his throat. “Well, I hadna quite got that far yet.”
She gave him a withering look. “You must know that fairies are vulnerable to iron.” She remembered the way Maiara had injured Aborella with a fireplace poker. It hadn’t killed her, but it had weakened her.
“Aye. But how is it that ye know it?”
Highland Dragon Page 11