Enchanted Moon (Moon Magick Book II)

by Scott, Amber

  Was his life so uninteresting as to need the excitement that Ailyn’s arrival wrought?

  “Shall we sleep by turns?” Quinlan asked, knowing full well he was baiting for more to feed his suspicions than out of honest interest in keeping watch.

  Danny’s gaze hardened, but he merely shrugged. “I’m a light sleeper, but I suppose it couldna hurt.”

  Ailyn’s gaze went from Danny to Quinlan and back to Danny. “I’ll take the first turn.”

  “No need, lass. I’m fit to stay awake a few more hours.”

  “After the ride you must have had? Wouldna think of forcing you to stay alert,” Danny said.

  “I believe you both need rest,” Ailyn said, standing abruptly. “Your battle of glares and posturing looks exhausting.”

  With that she left them, striding to the far end of the clearing and settling at the base of a a large oak without a backward glance.

  Danny looked at Quinlan. “What does she mean?”

  Quinlan quirked one eyebrow. “Perhaps she senses some vexation. Any reason you might be feeling some, friend?”

  Danny cocked his head a bit, gave a slight shrug, and decidedly dropped the matter by fetching his blanket. “If my studies and travels have taught me anything,” he said, returning and tossing the blanket over a grassy area, “I’ve learned that given enough time, all eventually reveals.”

  Quinlan snorted, retrieving his own wool blanket. On such a warm night, he’d likely need little more than his mantle, but a softer bed than the ground he would welcome. Not that he’d sleep. Weary as his limbs were from the ride, his mind galloped.

  Perhaps if he waited Danny out, he could join Ailyn and keep watch. Aye. That is what he would do. He’d settle down next to her under that tree and eventually she would ease her guard down and help him understand.

  The fire died down to embers as he stared, grappling with what exactly he needed from Ailyn. Some bit of information to quell his curiosity, he supposed.

  The moon hung high. Stars winked in the velvety dark sky. A chill began to dampen the air. After what felt like an eternity, Danny began to snore. Quinlan sat up, peering past his shoulder to where Ailyn earlier sat, hoping she would be looking his way and perhaps wave him over.

  Except, she wasna there.

  He peered right and left, hurrying to his feet.

  She was gone.

  “Danny,” he hissed, reaching to shake the man awake.

  “Stop,” Ailyn said, grabbing hold of his arm.

  Quinlan spun on her, taking her wrist where she’d held his arm. “Are you mad, lass? You nigh made me pummel your pretty face.”

  She smiled, chuckling softly. “Oh? Will you recover? Need me to fetch you a change of clothes?”

  It was Quinlan’s turn to crack a grin. “Only if ye’ll be helping me out of these ones.”

  A blush pinkened her cheeks as her eyes narrowed on him. “Why would I care to do that?”

  Somewhere in the back of his mind he heard a warning—dinna tempt this one. There was no place or call for it. He wasna of a mind to marry, and she wasna the kind to expect less. Still, her blush gave her creamy complexion a lovely glow, and the glint in her eyes dared him. “To feast your eyes and let your hands roam,” he replied, his voice thick.

  Her lips seemed to beg to be kissed, parting as they did over his words. Desire stirred in his groin, unexpected and not wholly welcome.

  “You want me?” Ailyn said, tilting her head.

  Of all the reactions his flirtations wrought over the years, and he’d received plenty, even the rare outrage, Quinlan could not recall ever confounding a lass over it. He wasna sure how to respond. So he ignored the question instead. “If you’re ready to rest, I’ll keep watch now.”

  She looked from his face to where he still held her wrist. Quinlan let go, his heart beating unaccountably faster. Ailyn looked back to his face, her gaze settling on his mouth. “Do you kiss?” she asked.

  His body hardened. Did he kiss? He resisted snorting in response. The artistry he’d been told he plied upon a woman’s sweet mouth brought women to their knees, offed their clothes, and begged him to their beds.

  What was her game? She seemed genuinely to be asking. Not so much interested in receiving one as merely curious. He wished he’d not released her wrist. “Only if you return it, lass.”

  Where had that come from? He’d intended to remark that she’d have to ask for a kiss, not return it. He sounded about as experienced and skilled as…Danny. He had to remind himself that it mattered not. They’d not be kissing. Not when there were many a chambermaid and widow in Tir Conaill eager to see him back home and welcomed after his years away.

  Not that he would avail himself to them. He’d learned in his youth how fine a mess indulging every fancy made.

  “Do you require rest, or are you alert enough to keep watch a bit longer?” he asked, his awareness of the quiet night, of the breeze teasing her hair, heightening.

  What would her hair look like against her bare skin? Would her curves gleam in the moonlight? Were they as perfect out of those breeches as they appeared to be in them? Ailyn stepped closer, her eyes searching his.

  Quinlan’s groin ached. His thighs tingled as his blood rushed to the call of desire. Aye. He wanted her. But he’d not be having her. Setting his jaw, he stepped around her. “Get some rest,” he said.

  He certainly wouldn’t be now.

  As he walked past her, though, she again grabbed his arm. Instinctively, Quinlan spun and took her by the wrist, tugging her closer. So close that their bodies nearly touched. Her eyes widened. She gasped.

  “Dinna play with fire, lass.”

  Her eyes flashed at his statement. She leaned in closer, so close he could feel the heat emanating from her body. His erection pulsed. He pulled her in, twisting her arm behind her. She complied, another gasp escaping her rosy lips.

  “Is this how you kiss?” she said, her voice breathless.

  Her hips touched his and he nearly groaned. He had a mind to kiss her senseless, but his body warned him. If he indulged in even one kiss, he’d regret it for an eternity. He couldna kiss Ailyn.

  But he could teach her a wee lesson.

  He pressed his hips in so that his hard prick would speak volumes. “Aye, I want you, Ailyn.” He watched the play over her face as he pressed. He cupped her face, weaving a hand in to her braid where he gripped, tilting her face back. Her creamy throat beckoned for his touch. She likely tasted sweeter than he could imagine. He refused to even think of it.

  He would satisfy one desire at least. With a quick flick and tug, he loosened the leather tie on her braid and slowly unwound the tresses. She let him, her gaze openly fascinated.

  Hair tumbling about her face and shoulders, he slowly let her go. She frowned a little. “No lips, then?”

  Quinlan groaned, reaching for her, no longer able to resist one small taste of her.

  “Aye, if you please,” Danny said, his voice like an icy dunk into a river. “No lips.”

  Ailyn turned, Quinlan followed. Danny stood arms akimbo, leaving no doubts in Quinlan’s mind as to how offensive the man found this whole kiss idea. How much had he seen? It mattered not. Ailyn’s virtue would certainly not be besmirched from the threat of a kiss. All Danny could have seen is what he saw now. A woman, flushed and aglow, looking like a wild temptress from a bard’s tale. And Quinlan likely looked like a man about to suffer many hours of a stiff ache wanting one very specific relief.

  It would be a long night indeed.

  ~

  Ailyn touched her lips, her eyes on Quinlan’s broad shoulders as he walked away. Her lips tingled even though he’d done no more than brace an arm around her. He’d been rough with her, as if showing his strength would somehow deflect her interest. Not that she was interested in any mortal. Not considering her current circumstances. If anything, nurturing an attraction to Quinlan would distract her.

  She thought of Colm. She thought of the journey ahead, of the
likelihood that Kristoph was here, too, hunting down the very thing she was but with the darkest of intentions. Aye, there was a part of her that welcomed any distraction from the growing weight within her.

  The moonlight cast shadows and light over the small meadow. She could see well. No one could take them by surprise. The horses would certainly warn of someone coming. Even Kristoph. There was no magick in these lands. Surely his powers would be thwarted without the dwindling Fae source to draw upon.

  She could hope. But she could not count on it.

  It wasn’t wise to keep assuming Kristoph was the man Breanne foretold of. She’d already filled the role with his visage. She’d have to correct that. Colm oft warned—never assume. Albeit he also oft claimed the simplest answer tended to be the true one.

  She released a heavy sigh. Her mind was too tired to untangle the mental knot tonight. Her physical contact with Quinlan, the way her body lit with delicious sensations only weakened her thought process. Her body still buzzed with arousal. Those intense eyes, fair glittering with desire. She yet wondered what he would taste like, if his full lips would be as demanding as his embrace.

  Danny behaving like a jealous lover only worsened matters.

  “I’ll bid him farewell come morning light,” Danny said in a low voice, settling onto his blanket cross-legged.

  “Do you not think there is opportunity in Quinlan joining us?” she asked, wishing Breanne could be here to answer her additional questions as well as manage her brother.

  Narrowing his eyes, he nodded. “Aye, there is. He’s fierce in battle, but it would mean sharing that which he does not ken.”

  Ailyn arranged her blanket on the ground, sitting as well and considering his point. “What does he know?”

  “He knows Breanne’s visions are powerful, and I trust he would heed any warning they came with.”

  “Then why not share them with him and ask him to help?” He had already helped her more than any near stranger could be expected to, though. This wasn’t his battle. It wasn’t his world to fight for. “Do you think he’d refuse?” Refuse, but be handed knowledge they needed to covet closely.

  No. She could not believe Quinlan had such little honor as to merely bow out and wish her luck. His actions thus far demonstrated that if she could trust any mortal, it was he.

  Danny lay back and stared at the stars, thoughtful. “My sister saw him helping you. She suspected he would come.”

  “Then why would you not welcome him?” Ailyn asked, beyond confused. Danny knew Quinlan would arrive? Why so much resistance, then?”

  He thought about her question a moment. “I canno’ say, exactly. I’ve no specific concern to warrant it. Quinlan is a good man, a good friend. I once thought he would join my family. It isn’t his mettle I question.”

  Ailyn glanced past her shoulder to watch the shadowy outline of the man in question. She could barely see the scruff of whiskers along his angular jaw, so dark were the shadows he stood in, leaning against a tree, one leg propped against it as though he hadn’t a worry in the world. Perhaps he didn’t.

  If he could hear or sense what they were saying, he showed no outward signs of it.

  “Then what is it that has you distrustful?” Ailyn asked, fighting the edge out of her tone. She had to trust that he meant well. She had to trust Breanne.

  “Given your heritage, perhaps you’ll understand.” He sat up and put a fist to his stomach. “Something dark surrounds Quinlan’s arrival here. Something….” He shook his head and lay back down.

  If dark followed him here, it was no fault of his. Mayhap she had to trust herself and Quinlan instead. She had no gift of sight. Her court trick kind of magick was all but gone in this world. She had no bow or arrows to influence. Her dagger all but ignored her words. She was left with her own sense of right and wrong, and perhaps some wits and skill, thanks to her brother.

  Thanks to her queen insisting that she join the guard’s ranks soon after Kristoph’s attack.

  Her life oft felt cleaved into two halves. That which came before that day, pressed against the stone wall just outside of Tullah’s quarters. And all that came after. Her reaction. Her fears. Nightmares. Tullah placing her under her own younger brother’s command.

  She felt for the pendant under her tunic. Aye, she also had that. Her only treasure, handed down through her family’s female line. Her mother bequeathed it to Ailyn a year before she died, blessing it under the Imbolc moon.

  “You should sleep,” Danny said. “While you can.”

  Ailyn nearly scoffed at his foreboding tone, but before she could, her unease grew. Wanting to be safe would not make her so. Underreacting for the sake of denial would only hurt matters and put them all at risk. Better to err on the side of caution.

  Except when it came to Quinlan. She would do all she could to keep him here. Even if it meant telling him what she was, what they were after, and why.

  Stealing one last glance at him as she lay down bolstered her resolve. Despite his easy- looking demeanor, she had no doubts whatsoever that her life lay in capable hands. She held tight to the notion as she permitted sleep to tug her into its depths, when the dream began.

  At first, she thought a noise had awakened her. Sitting up, she looked around.

  Danny lay snoring. The embers of the fire glowed green. Quinlan was gone, but that didn’t worry her much, because beautiful butterflies that glowed the green of spring fluttered about. They filled her with childlike wonder. She reached out for one, and that was when she knew she was dreaming because the butterfly morphed into a blue orb. The orb had come back to her, its noise of voices within it urging her to listen.

  “You’re speaking too fast. I canno’ understand,” she said, sitting on her knees and leaning forward.

  A word seemed to form in the collective voices. Still, even together their sound blurred. “…easecumin….” “…coming….”

  “…eees…coming….” It pulsed brighter with the words.

  Ailyn shook her head and tried to touch the orb but it flitted out of reach. The light dimmed, the orb shrinking. “…love….”

  It dwindled. “Please. I’m trying. Stay.”

  But it could not. As quickly as it had appeared, it vanished. The butterflies followed. The wind picked up, chilling her arms and cheeks. Ailyn wrapped her blanket around her shoulders and stood up. “Come back. Please. I can hear you now.”

  She went to awaken Danny, but he was gone. As was his blanket. The fire had disappeared as well. A sweat broke over her shoulders as a low clicking noise echoed through the trees and to her ears. Where did she know that noise?

  Click. Click. Click.

  No, not a click that a lock and key would make, or the knock of a knuckle on a door. This wasn’t mechanical. This noise was human. Fear raced over her shoulders and down her stomach. Her feet became heavy as she tried to run from that noise.

  Tck. Tck.

  Tsk.

  “Ailyn!”

  “I refuse you!” Ailyn screamed. “I refuse you!”

  Something grabbed her shoulders. She opened her mouth to scream, but naught came out. The sound clogged her throat, making it so hard to breathe.

  “Ailyn, wake yourself, lass. Ailyn, you’re dreaming,” Quinlan said as she slowly opened her eyes.

  His face filled her vision. The light of dawn showed the velvety sable color of his eyes, the thick fringe of lashes framing them and their stark concern.

  “Are you well, Ailyn?” Danny asked, drawing her attention past Quinlan’s shoulder.

  She lay cradled in Quinlan’s arms, she realized, and had been only dreaming. She’d known that, though. Perhaps she had somehow forgotten while in the grips of it.

  “What did you see?” Quinlan asked, helping her sit up.

  “See?” It was a dream. Not a vision. Brown-bloods did not have visions.

  Danny paced the area behind Quinlan. “That took far too long. Think. What has Breanne seen?”

  Quinlan let her go,
looking at Danny with open skepticism. He stood up, bracing his hands on his hips, giving Ailyn a fair sight of a very appealing backside. She scrambled to her feet as well, not liking the tension in his stance. Or in her belly.

  “Danny, you’ll be explaining what you’re really up to, now, or I’ll be taking Ailyn back to Tir Conaill with me. Now.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Quinlan prepared to be hit. Danny was a proud one, and he was not so young now that he’d be easily dissuaded. They might have plenty of years between them, some fourteen, but honor was honor. While Quinlan meant no disrespect, he also did not make empty threats. Something deep within him insisted that Ailyn was in danger and that Danny was heightening that risk.

  But the man only walked up to Quinlan face to face—inches apart—and glared him down. “You’ve no idea what you’re toying with here, Quin. Step down before you get her killed.”

  Quinlan’s eyelid twitched.

  “You’ll be getting yourselves killed with your stubborn fool heads,” Ailyn said. “I’m not some chattel to be parceled out to the most able man among you.”

  Danny hardly blinked at her words. Quinlan, too. He expected no lass to ken the consequences of establishing a hierarchy here. Be it age, strength, cunning, or knowledge, either Danny would concede his role—whatever that proved to be—or Quinlan would take charge.

  “While you were busy listening to her talk in her sleep, Quin, I was looking for what went missing.”

  “Missing?” Ailyn put her hands between them, forcing a space. “What do you mean, missing?”

  “Aye, Danny, what do you mean, missing?” Quinlan asked pointedly. Within an hour of Danny and he changing duties and Quinlan falling into a light sleep, he’d awoken to Ailyn murmuring in the old tongue. Just as she had before.

  He had called to Danny.

  Danny was nowhere to be found—gone. To check the horses, he claimed, once Quinlan found him.