Stone Guardian

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Stone Guardian Page 14

by Maeve Greyson


  Emma’s eyes widened, filled with sudden understanding and another emotion Torin couldn’t quite read. What was she thinking? Her lower lip trembled before tightening into a determined line. The color rose high on her cheeks. “So, you just need my help to leave this place? Is that it? I’m just your ticket out of here?”

  Realization hit him like a wall of freezing water. The woman made it sound like he’d used her; enjoyed her passions to win her trust. “Emma, I—”

  “You what? It’s the truth. I see it in your face. You just need my help to get out of here and get to wherever it is you think you belong. All you had to do was ask, Torin. The sex wasn’t necessary to trick me into doing your bidding.”

  “Damnaigh, Emma.” Torin scrubbed both hands over his face. How could she think he’d do such a thing? “I wanted ye, woman, because yer a damn beautiful creature filled with fire and passion. Your very presence inflames me. I didna take ye to sway your mind. I needed ye because I ached to know the magic of your warmth. How can I make ye understand? This place is no’ where I belong but yer the one I desire.” With a defeated groan, Torin yanked both hands through his hair and turned away.

  Until Emma’s anger ebbed, there’d be no reasoning with her. Fury burned in those emerald eyes. Torin glanced back at her and his heart fell. Emma stood with both hands opening and closing into shaking fists clenched against her sides. Thank the fates she didna know how to focus her energies. She’d have scorched him to a pile of ash by now.

  Emma shoved past him and headed toward the bedroom door. She paused in the doorway, one hand trembling atop the tarnished brass latch. “I’ll make you a deal, Torin. Tomorrow, after I finish at the clinic, you can start giving me lessons on this wonderful magic you claim I possess. Don’t worry. I’m a quick study. We should have your ass out of here in no time.” And then she slammed the door.

  Torin heard a metallic click. Shaking his head, he stared at the locked door. This was going to be more difficult than he’d hoped.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  The fiery blast shattered the peace of the sleepy valley, igniting an unsuspecting flock of sheep into a bleating mass of putrid smoke and dancing orange flames. Arach chuckled as an updraft expanded the tattered leather of his wings and vaulted him higher into the clouds. He adored the noise those senseless sheep made whenever they exploded. The sound distinctly reminded him of a bleating human screaming out in pain.

  The heat of the inferno searing through the valley wafted hot against the softer tiles of his underbelly. Arach brought his great black wings together in one graceful motion, fanning the super-heated air deeper into the unsuspecting valley below.

  He spied a small village nestled at the far end of the verdant tunnel. Just lovely. Arach chuckled into the wind. The humans would soon swarm into their ridiculous vehicles, those strange colored contraptions with the spouting tubes of water. Then they’d frantically soak down the walls of their homes with hopes of saving their meager possessions from his cleansing blasts. Naïve mortals. They placed so much importance on the trivial items of their fragile little existence. They were foolish enough to value things easily destroyed, things easily replaced. If the idiots had a flicker of sense, they’d hie themselves out of the valley and launch themselves into the ocean. Of course, if they did decide to take to the water, he’d just end their misery by calling up the kelpies.

  Kelpies. Arach spread his wings and soared higher through the wisps of clouds, narrowing his eye slits against the rushing wind streaming against his face. He’d promised the kelpies a bit of pleasure after robbing them of their latest ship full of yowling mortals. Perhaps he should conjure a great storm to stir up a bit of chaos across the waters. Maybe that would please his watery friends. A good, stout boat-foundering maelstrom would sooth the anger churning in their watery little hearts.

  Of course, he really cared less if the annoying water demons were pleased or not and wouldn’t lay odds that the wicked things had anything close to resembling a heart. But it never hurt to have an ally or two in any reality, especially since this particular realm now held the likes of Torin. Arach folded his wings against his body and speared through a particularly damp bank of clouds stretching across the horizon. An ally could be useful in maintaining a tamed world, especially with a stone guardian chieftain and his unlikely apprentice lurking about the land.

  A stone guardian chieftain. Arach snorted out a cloud of roiling black smoke as though trying to clear his nasal passages of debris. Damn that old woman. Foolish enough to believe he’d consider a chieftain, even Torin, a viable threat. How dare she think she could mention the guardian, ask Arach to leave and he’d just tuck his tail and go. What the blazes did she think he was? Some cowardly lower level minion? Arach stretched out his wings and dove toward the ground, filling his gullet with an ember-fanning rush of air until his belly scales separated into a swollen mass of pressurized air.

  No. He would not go. And he also would not lessen his playtime in this delightful world just to make them think he’d gone. Arach unhinged his lower jaw and vomited a volley of blue-white flames into the cluster of dwellings snugged against the base of a velvety green hill. Tiny dots of humans streamed from the blazing buildings on the outer edges of the chaos. The unfortunate victims trapped in the epicenter of the blast were incinerated on impact.

  Arach chuckled as he curled the length of his body upward through the smoke. Perhaps a tussle with the stone guardian chieftain would even provide an enjoyable distraction. Igniting unsuspecting humans had its advantages but after a bit, it did grow to be quite boring. At least a meeting with a worthy foe would provide some sorely needed excitement.

  Arach stretched out his wings and pulled his heavy body higher into the sky. Perhaps it was time to lure the chieftain out, annoy him a bit by threatening something dear to the leader’s heart. Arach flapped his wings down and held them close to his body, rising higher through the azure blue layer of the sky into the darker silence of star-dusted space. Rolling onto his back, he stretched his forearms behind his horned head and relaxed into the floating weightlessness of the void. Yes. He could think here. Plan the game down to the last detail and perhaps even pay off his unspoken debt to those damnable kelpies. With a chuckle, Arach closed his eyes. Life truly tasted much better when a bit of excitement loomed on the horizon.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  “I didn’t expect to see ye this morning. Are ye feeling any better?” Alex’s deep voice echoed behind Emma as she shoved her bag into the cubbyhole behind the counter.

  “I’m fine, thanks.” She wasn’t anywhere near fine but she wasn’t about to relay her restless night to Dr. Alex Mackenzie or anyone else. She hadn’t slept, just stared at the ceiling and burned with a mixture of humiliation and anger until the sun poked through the crack in her shutters.

  “Ye look worse than ye did last night. The dark circles shining beneath your eyes remind me of those raccoons ye have in the States.”

  “Thank you so much. With that silver tongue of yours, I’m amazed you’re still single.”

  Moira choked on the tea she’d just sipped, sputtering as she set her cup on the counter and grabbed a tissue to press against her mouth.

  “Ye need to be nice to me.” Alex leaned in closer and raised his clipboard to hide his whisper from Moira’s ears. “Ye’re going to be the death of poor old Moira.”

  She wasn’t in the mood to be nice—especially not to any males. Torin’s pleading face sprang to mind, souring her disposition even further. “I’m not here to be nice and socialize. I’m here to work and help the children.”

  “Yer a fiery lass. I’ll give ye that.” Alex chuckled as he tossed the clipboard onto the desk and scooped a stack of charts off the counter. “Since ye say yer doing much better, I’ll treat ye to lunch at the local pub.”

  “Great,” Emma grumbled to his starched white back as he disappeared into exam room three. “That’s all I need, another man willing to do me a favor.”


  “Would ye like some tea?” Moira whispered at her elbow. “Perhaps ’twould help ye feel better to have a bit of tea in your stomach before we get too busy. Ye don’t look well at all. And we could talk, if ye think that would help.”

  Talk? Who was Moira kidding? The elderly woman was about to explode with curiosity. Her nosiness whistled like a screaming teakettle and it was a wonder a pair of twitching antennae hadn’t sprouted from the middle of her graying curls. “I’ve already had some coffee this morning, Moira. Thanks anyway.”

  Moira’s shoulders sagged with a disappointed shrug. “Ye know sometimes a good talk can do ye a world of good.” Shuffling through the loose papers scattered across the desk, her mouth flattened into a thoughtful line. “And if it’s man troubles that’s disturbing your life, old Moira might understand more than ye know. I was young once, ye understand.”

  Emma pinched the bridge of her nose and pressed against the inside corners of her burning eyes. If she wasn’t so tired, Moira’s nudging would be amusing but right now the prying old woman only succeeded in rubbing her fur the wrong way. “I’ll be fine, Moira. I’m going to have everything settled within a few days.” A few days. It shouldn’t take much longer than that to figure out what the hell Torin needed from her, give it to him and send him wherever it was he wanted to go.

  “Aye. Well, I’m here if ye need me.” Moira waddled around from behind the counter with a long-spouted watering can. Waving the green spout toward the sparkling plate glass window of the waiting room, she nodded with a knowing grin. “It appears your friend from yesterday is here and has decided to stake his claim. Ye might want to reconsider lunch with Dr. Mac.”

  “What are you talking about?” Emma shrugged into her lab coat as she wound through the multi-colored chairs scattered across the waiting room.

  “He’s donned regular clothes today. But even my old eyes can still pick out the fine figure of a guardian warrior.”

  Across the parking lot, Torin sat on a bench beneath the branches of a sprawling oak. In place of his kilt, his bulging thighs stretched the limits of a dark pair of fitted jeans. A snug black T-shirt also strained across his expanse of chest. His well-muscled arms flexed when he crossed them over his body while he tapped the toes of a pair of fine leather boots with an impatient rhythm.

  In spite of herself, Emma ached for him. Heat surged through her body, threatening to stir glowing embers of need into a full blown inferno of desire. Damn him for making her feel this way, for making her want him all over again. He’s only using you. He just needs you to get back to his fairyland beyond those stupid veils he mentioned. She had to keep the truth at the forefront of her thoughts. It had only been sex to him and she was nothing more than a means to his desired end.

  “Ignore him. He’ll be gone in a few days.” Turning from the window, Emma straightened her collar with an irritated yank. She swallowed hard and tried to ignore the stirring of hurt and disappointment squeezing through her. What the hell was wrong with her? So they’d had sex. So what?

  “Wondrous, passionate, mind-melding sex,” whispered the imaginary demon on her shoulder.

  “I doubt that from the stubborn look on his face,” Moira observed. “Who is he?” Her gray head bobbed side to side as she stretched on tiptoe to improve her view while watering the trailing ivy overflowing from the window box.

  “He’s no one important.” Emma tossed over her shoulder before slamming the door to exam room one.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Torin shifted on the bench and rubbed both palms against the stiff trews constricting his protesting muscles. If he’d ever doubted it before, he knew for sure now. He didna belong in a world where a man’s cock was forced to struggle for air. He’d seen few kilts while he walked the island and it appeared these days it was mostly women wearing the lovely plaids. Why in the world had men given up such a feeling of freedom to suffer such uncomfortable clothes?

  “‘Tis the way of this time. A combined result of history and the mixing of many cultures.” A husky voice floated just beyond his right shoulder as if drifting on the passing wind.

  “I canna believe yer out among so many mortals, Cu Sith. Do ye not fear ye’ll be discovered?” Torin kept his gaze centered across the street on the windows of the clinic glinting with the final rays of the setting sun.

  “Most mortals of this time no longer believe in the Fae or the magic of our dimension. When they see my paw prints marking the sand, they shrug them off as those of a stray dog.” The bench shook and the wooden slats beside Torin creaked as if a heavy weight had just settled on them.

  “So ye still wander among them?” Torin shifted again, tugging at the crotch of the skin-tight jeans. Hell’s fire! That damnable seam was about to cut his bollocks in two.

  “Aye. Since they dinna believe in the Fae, they explain me away as a homeless cur.” A long-eared hound with black-and-tan coloring shimmered into view on the seat of the bench. “When I speak, they hear nothing but whines and growls because I make it so.”

  “Not even the children?”

  The dog’s mouth split into a panting smile, his tongue lolled out one side between yellowed teeth. “Ah—the wee ones know me for what I am and they understand everything about me. But the adults think ’tis only their imagination. They’ve lost the magic from their lives. ’Tis truly quite sad.” He rested an over-sized paw on Torin’s leg. “Ye do realize if ye had manifested trews in a larger size, ye wouldna be so miserable?”

  “I shall be fine,” Torin snapped. “‘Tis just a matter of getting used to wearing the uncomfortable things until I escape this world.” How dare Cu Sith hint he might be a wee bit vain. Torin shifted on the bench again and cast a fuming glance at the grinning dog.

  “We’ve all sensed your troubles,” Cu Sith growled. “Ye shouldha never lain with the woman before ye told her what ye needed.”

  Torin scrubbed his face with an irritated swipe of one hand, the stranglehold of the jeans forgotten. “Do not tell me what I already know. I fully realize she thinks I’ve just used her to fill my needs. I couldna make her understand. ’Tis different now. I find her so very…different.” If the fairy dog decided he must make his presence known, the least he could do was provide some useful information.

  “Aye.” The hound nodded. “Any fool can see her heart is pure. No wickedness surrounds this lass as it did your conniving Eilean.”

  Realization of foolish choices grated through him like a rusted blade. “I know now of the mistakes I made in the past. I shouldha opened my eyes.”

  “Dinna waste your days drowning in regret. ’Tis the past that has led ye to this place. All things happen for a reason, Torin, even though the reasons are sometimes no’ apparent for quite some time.” The gangly dog lumbered off the bench and shook his body until his velvety ears clapped about his head. “I came to warn ye that ye best make haste and see that she understands ye dinna merely want her for her power. Another man vies for her hand and neither of ye will be safe from Arach for verra much longer. Luckily for you, the man inside that clinic is a bigger fool about finding the words to speak his heart than you are. At the speed with which he’s able to convey his interest; the beast will have already destroyed this world and you and her along with it.” After a slow glance up and down the street, the dog shimmered and faded out of view. “We will help ye all we can, Torin. But ye’d best make her need only you before that human finds the right words and this world is lost to Arach’s destruction.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Arach closed his eyes and tried to concentrate. Great gads. He shifted six of his feet farther apart and steadied his stance on the rock. How damned long had it been? Ages. That’s how long it had been since he’d bothered to shift into the In-Between. He squinted his eye slits tighter shut and exhaled. He hated the vile peacefulness of the In-Between but it couldn’t be helped. No amount of subtle cloaking in the human’s reality would shield him from Torin’s senses. Only by hiding in the void between the p
lanes could he close in on the crafty stone guardian without revealing himself until he was absolutely ready.

  A sizzling hiss crackled through the air and flickered all around his body. Stinging electricity shook through his scales and sparked blue lines of popping lasers between his horns.

  Dammit! He’d forgotten to lower the temperature of the inferno simmering deep within his gullet. The delicate aura of the In-Between barricaded itself against any type of weapon. As long as the molten embers glowed hot in his belly, he’d never achieve passage into the peaceful realm.

  He submerged his snout deep in the icy waters of the cove and sucked in a great gulp of the sea. He forced down gallons of seaweed-laced water into the pouch of simmering coals located just above his first stomach.

  Steam roiled in great white billows out his nose and mouth. The stinging heat of the vaporized saltwater threw him into a sneezing fit. Bits of algae and hordes of silver wriggling fish blasted out of each nostril. Lore, he hated the feel of cold seawater bubbling in his nose. Damn the rules of the In-Between.

  Shaking his head as he snorted out the remaining muck, Arach raked his paws against the sides of his muzzle and wiped the condensation from his eyes. With a great smacking of his lips, he huffed out an irritated growl as he spat a tangled glob of seaweed and shells on the ground. Hell’s bane! It’d take him a week to get that taste out of his mouth.

  Still hacking and spitting, he inhaled a steadying breath. Concentrate. A gullet full of foul seawater was small price to pay for a bit of playtime with Torin. Arach closed his eyes again, held his breath and concentrated on his destination. This time, the air only stung a bit and constricted a little tight against his scales as he slipped into the In-Between.

 

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