Ann Gimpel

by Earth's Requiem (Earth Reclaimed)

  “They’re ridiculous,” she muttered, but the feel of the smooth material, soft against her skin, made her reconsider. Once upon a time, she’d loved nice things. She settled on a finely woven, long-sleeved wool shirt, sturdy pants with lots of pockets, and the Gore-Tex jacket to wear. Then she filled her pack with three more shirts, another pair of pants, socks that miraculously didn’t have holes in them from resident moths, bras and panties, and a wool-lined vest. Unfortunately, whoever had owned the clothes had feet that were smaller than hers. She looked longingly at a pair of leather boots, but knew they’d make her feet hurt every time she wore them. She did tie a pair of Teva sandals to the outside of her rucksack, though. They were a big step up from the cracked, plastic Crocs she had at home.

  She thought about folding her old clothes and placing them in dresser drawers, but they were still quite damp. She draped her threadbare garments over the furniture. “For the next person,” she told the silence of the room. “There’s still wear left in them.”

  “What are you doing?” Rune called.

  “Shopping.” Something that sounded a lot like a giggle escaped before she started down the broken staircase.

  “You found food?” the wolf asked, nose twitching. “Must be in cans. I can’t smell it.”

  “No, silly, I found clothes. I don’t have an all-weather fur coat like you.”

  “We’re losing the light,” he observed. “Maybe that walk wasn’t such a good idea—unless we end up staying here for the night. Then we’ll need to scout a protected campsite. Do you have enough magic for another jump?”

  “Sure.” She was astonished by how good she felt. Between food, lolling in the sun—even though it hadn’t been all that warm—waiting for her clothes to dry, and finding new ones, her energy was back online. She thought just maybe she could conquer the world. Or what was left of it, anyway. “Let’s surprise Fionn and Bella.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Surprise was a mild term for what Aislinn encountered. Fionn grabbed her shoulders the minute her spell dispersed and shook her. “I’ve been expecting you since this morning. Tell me everything. Everything, lass. Leave nothing out. Christ! What happened to your face?” He let go of one shoulder to trace the gash down her cheek.

  “Welll, nice to see you again, too.”

  She drew back and stared at him. His jaw was set in a hard line. His brows were drawn together. Blue eyes snapped dangerously. He looked furious—and worried.

  “You were supposed to call for me if you got into trouble.” He balled his hands into fists at his sides.

  So I was. “You’re yelling at me. Stop it. And I’m not sure you would have been much help.” Ah, whoops, that didn’t come out quite right. “Er, I mean, if you had been there, of course—”

  He turned away, sucking air like a bellows. She knew he was trying to get himself under control. When he turned back, the tense planes of his face had relaxed a little. “You’re right, of course. It’s just that I was so damned worried about you. And I felt so fucking helpless. Told myself if you weren’t back by midnight, I was going after you.”

  “We didn’t agree on a time when you necessarily expected me back.” Aislinn trod cautiously, aware of how tired she was. The euphoria she’d felt leaving the fishing lodge had gotten sucked up and spit out by the magic she’d summoned to ferry Rune and her to Fionn’s grotto. Apparently, she wasn’t as fully recovered as she’d thought. The last thing she wanted was an argument. “What if Rune and I had spent the night next to the McCloud River? We talked about it. Then you’d have been gone tomorrow morning when we finally got back here, and I wouldn’t have known where you were.”

  He stared at her. No, it felt as if he was staring through her. “What would you have done?”

  She threw her hands up. “I don’t know. Waited for a while, I suppose.”

  That twitchy place under his eye was back. “Just a while?”

  She stalked over to a pile of cushions, unbuckled her rucksack, and flopped down. “Christ, Fionn. I’m tired. I’ve had a hell of a couple of days. Can’t you just tell me you’re happy to see me and leave it at that?”

  “No.”

  She thought about asking why not and then decided she didn’t really want to know. Next, she thought about asking if he wanted her and Rune to leave. She glanced about for the wolf. He and Bella chatted companionably in a corner. It appeared the raven had offered a far warmer—and less complicated—greeting for her fellow bond animal than Fionn had managed for her. Nah, even if he told me to leave, I couldn’t go anywhere without sleep. “How about if we both get some rest?”

  “Not until you tell me what happened.”

  She blew out an exasperated breath. “Won’t it keep till morning?”

  Fionn shook his head so hard, unbound hair fell into his face. He pushed it back with an impatient gesture.

  “Okay, I give up,” she said. “It shouldn’t take all that long. We could spend more time arguing about it than it will take to tell…” Fifteen minutes later, she was just finishing her description of Orione and her discovery that she could understand the Old Ones’ language, when he held up a hand.

  “I know you’re tired. And I’m sorry I pounced on you, but could you describe the dragonesque thing again. Close your eyes, take your time. I need every detail you can remember.”

  “Can you get me something to drink?”

  “Sure.” He got up and went into an alcove. In a few minutes, he handed her a cracked cup of something decidedly alcoholic.

  She took an experimental sip that exploded on her tongue. It tasted of flowers and summer. She met his gaze for the first time since he’d raised his voice. “What is it?”

  “Mead.” In answer to the question in her mind, he added, “I made it from honey.” He gestured with two fingers for her to concentrate. “The dragon?”

  She did the best she could describing Orione. It seemed to satisfy Fionn, because he didn’t ask any more questions. Somehow, her cup was empty. The warmth of the liquor relaxed her tense muscles. Her eyelids drifted toward half-mast.

  He laid a hand on her knee. “Let me hold you, lass. Morning will be here before we know it.”

  A feeble protest rose to her lips that she really was too tired to do anything other than sleep, but he shushed her. He helped her to her feet, and leaning on him, she let him lead her to the bed. He pulled off her boots and then lifted her legs onto the low platform fragrant with pine boughs. She curled into a ball on her side and felt him fit his body behind her. His breath was warm and soothing on her neck. It felt good to be held and cherished. But it felt awful to have to answer to anyone else. Her brain tried to find words to express the dilemma, but drowsiness befuddled her tongue. All she could do was murmur his name. She didn’t know why, maybe because she was so tired, but she called him by his whole name, the one she’d been supposed to breathe into the green-flecked quartz crystal: Fionn MacCumhaill.

  “Aye, lass,” he murmured against her ear. “Ye are bound to me, just like ye are to yon wolf. And like him, I will protect you forever.”

  She fell asleep trying to tell him she belonged to no one but herself.

  When she woke in the depths of the night, his body was still curved around hers. She turned to face him and called her mage light. It played over the bones in his face and reflected the blue of his eyes when he opened them.

  “You’re awake,” he said softly, Irish lilt all but gone from his voice. Maybe she’d imagined it just before she’d fallen asleep. “I would have thought you’d sleep till morning.” Reaching out with tenderness at odds from his earlier ire, he smoothed hair away from her face.

  She smiled sleepily. “Nice to wake in your arms.”

  The arms in question tightened about her. He found the hollow in her neck with his mouth and trailed kisses downward until he ran into th
e opening of her shirt.

  “I can take it off,” she murmured. Heat ran like molten silver through her veins. She’d never met anyone who got her going so quickly, except the dark gods, and they didn’t count.

  “Let me help you.” His voice was hoarse.

  As soon as she pushed the wool top over her breasts, he moved her bra aside and closed his mouth over a nipple. His teeth grazed sensitive flesh. She pressed her body against him. He sucked harder, bringing her nipple to a hard, aching point of sensation. Fionn switched to the other breast. Knowing fingers twirled and tugged, replacing his mouth. She felt a climax build and embraced the exquisitely sensitive nerve endings driving her toward it. She started to shove a hand between her legs and then knew she wouldn’t have to. The combination of his mouth and fingers was plenty. She came, grinding her crotch against him, hands and teeth digging into his shoulders.

  Fionn raised himself over her and brought his lips down on hers. His tongue slipped inside her mouth. She sucked on it hard, drawing him in so deep, she lost track of where she stopped and he began. He tasted of nearly forgotten summers, of abandon and freedom.

  The length of him pressed against her thigh, hot and hard. With a shock, she realized the bottom half of his body was naked. Shoving frantically at the waistband of her pants, she finally remembered these were different pants and they had both buttons and a zipper. Somehow, she managed to get them down enough to pull one leg out. He rolled her onto her back, probing for entrance almost immediately. Drawing her knees back, she gripped his hips and pulled recklessly. She wanted him inside. Deep. Now. Gasping and panting, she arched her back, trying to get just as close as she could. His breath mingled with hers. He took her lower lip between his teeth and bit down. She bit back, all fire and claws, taking his gambit and giving him one better. Fionn groaned as he sank into her and began the same long, slow strokes that had driven her crazy last time.

  Aislinn lost track of how many times she came before she felt the spasms of his release. She tightened her grip on his shoulders and drew him against her. They fell back asleep like that before he shifted his weight off her and drew her into the circle of his arms, crooning softly. It was only when she woke again that she realized he’d been singing to her in Gaelic. It felt like she was a child again and her mother was holding her. She even thought she remembered that particular song. If it was the same one, he’d been telling her he’d care for her always and keep her safe.

  Feeling more awake, she snorted to herself. Nice try, but nowhere is safe anymore. No point in deluding myself. He stirred next to her, but the cadence of his breathing told her he was still asleep. Wonder if Rune and I should leave?

  Are you kidding? the other side of her brain demanded. He’s the best fuck I’ve ever had. Why would I want to walk away from that?

  It comes with strings. Remember last night?

  She rubbed her eyes, not wanting to wake him before she’d had time to sort out her thoughts. Yes, Fionn did come with strings. Was she already tangled up in them? She’d barely had a chance to get used to sharing her life with the wolf. Maybe she and Fionn could take a little break from each other. See how they really felt before they got in much deeper.

  Nope, not a good idea. The way things were today, with no reliable way to communicate over distances, either they stayed together—until one of them decided they were done—or they parted right now. She didn’t see any other choices. Besides, survival was scarcely a foregone conclusion. If they went their separate ways, one of them could be killed, and the other would never know. She thought about how it would be to have him dead, and a part deep inside her ached, the pain so intense that it felt like a knife in her guts.

  How could I be so attached? I barely know him. She tried to slip quietly out of their bed, but the movement woke him. He closed a hand about her wrist and pulled her back, said something in Gaelic, and then switched to English. “Sorry. Sometimes when I’m still half asleep, I forget.”

  She gaped at him. “That’s an old form of Gaelic.”

  “And how would ye be knowing that?” He aped an Irish accent so perfectly that it made her laugh.

  “Because my mother was Irish, and she used to talk to me—in Gaelic and in Irish. I recognize the difference. Gaelic has a different cadence.”

  “So it does. Come back here. There’s nothing so pressing we can’t have a good morning hug.” The accent was very nearly gone. The words such perfect English, she might not have noticed the slight twang beneath them if she weren’t paying attention.

  His body was warm against hers. And quite naked. Just the touch of his full length against her was enough to start her blood humming. She squirmed, trying to get away. “We’ll never get anything else done,” she protested.

  “And what could be more important than this?” he demanded, perfect teeth very white against his scraggly beard as he smiled at her. Gently taking one of her hands, he pushed it downward until it wrapped around his shaft. Ridged flesh jumped in her hand, then again. Obviously ready for more of what they’d shared the night before.

  Good question. She tried to gin up an answer, but couldn’t come up with anything. Rune and Bella could take care of themselves. She had no job to go to. No school. Only this man and her and the magic their bodies made together.

  “Just remember”—she cupped the side of his face with her free hand—“you asked for this.”

  Aislinn let go of him and yanked the covers out of the way so she could look at him. Really look at him. She kindled her mage light, since his wasn’t bright enough for her purposes. What a gorgeous man. Leanly muscled arms and shoulders funneled to a flat stomach and slender hips. A light dusting of golden hair sparkled against bronzed skin. She ran a fingertip from shoulder to groin and then traced his leg all the way to his feet. He flexed his toes and made a feral, possessive noise deep in his throat.

  “And do ye like what ye see?” Blue eyes sparkled.

  Her throat was thick with desire, but she managed to croak, “Oh my God, how can you even ask that? You’re the most beautiful, the most perfect—”

  “Nay, lass, that would be yourself ye’re describing. Your hair is like liquid fire, and your eyes are golden. I’ve never seen eyes like that afore. And your breasts… If ye’d lived hundreds of years ago, poets would have written odes to them.” He opened his arms. “Come here. I canna stand the distance between us.”

  She understood, because neither could she.

  When they finally got up hours later, her nether regions were sore as she shifted around to pull on her clothes. “Ouch.”

  “Och aye, and I have just the cure for that.” He winked.

  She swatted him. “I’ll just bet you do. More of the same. Nope. I need a break. And a bath. I can smell myself.”

  “We can go to the river. I’ll even make the water warm for you.”

  “You can do that?”

  “Uh-huh. So can you. I’ll show you how.” Fionn stood and collected his clothes strewn on the floor. He stretched his arms above his head and pivoted his torso from side to side before getting dressed.

  Groaning, she came to her feet and made a mock bow in his direction. “Lead on.”

  He took her hand and opened a path through his wards for all of them. Rune and Bella were more than ready to hunt, dashing off the minute they were above ground. As she followed him to the river, Aislinn wondered if she’d ever had so much sex before in such a short time frame. It didn’t take long to realize she hadn’t. For one thing, no one ever stuck around very long once their most immediate needs had been sated.

  Fionn was talking to her, but she hadn’t heard him. “Tell me again,” she said. “I was thinking.”

  He eyed her. “About what?”

  She shook her head.

  The look he gave her sharpened, but he went on. “I was just giving you a tutorial
on how to make the water warm in a circle about yourself. You will want to mix water and fire in equal proportions.”

  “Water will extinguish fire,” she protested.

  “Watch.” He gave her that ten thousand-watt grin again, shucked his clothes, and stepped into a deep pool in the river.

  She couldn’t help it. She smiled back and got out of her own clothes. Splashing over to him, she was pleasantly surprised to find that he stood in the middle of truly warm water. “Wow! I’m impressed. Water and fire, eh?”

  He inclined his head. To his credit, he didn’t say, I told you so.

  Warm water really did go much further than cold. It soothed her inflamed tissues, too. He showed her a root that soaped when you crushed it between rocks.

  “What is that?” she asked delightedly as she squished slimy goo all over her body in bath temperature water.

  “Indian soap root. An older name is Bear Onion.”

  She memorized what it looked like so she could find it again. It even did a pretty good job with her hair. Of course, it wasn’t all that dirty, since she’d just washed it the day before. She had a feeling soap root would manage the oils better than sand, though. Aislinn fingered the gash down the side of her face. It still hurt, and it would leave a hell of a scar.

  Thoroughly clean, they lay naked on rocks warmed by a combination of magic and the sun. It was temperate for so late in the year, and she luxuriated in not being swathed in layers of clothing. Fionn used his shirt for a gathering basket and brought them wild blackberries that had dried on their vines. She popped one after another of the tiny black globes into her mouth, enjoying the combination of sweet and tart. Rune padded over and flopped down beside her, part of a mangled rodent hanging from his mouth. Bella overflew them and then flapped her way to a nearby tree limb. She cawed raucously. Aislinn wondered if it was the avian equivalent of laughter.