From The Deep

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From The Deep Page 13

by From the Deep (anthology) [lit]


  "Ready to ride, little man?"

  Without waiting for MacEwan’s answer, the kelpie reared, hooves raking the air. A wild scream of power exploded from his chest.

  He hit the ground with a spine-cracking thud and dug in, springing from the ground to leap toward the loch. Another leap and they arched over the water.

  "Take a deep breath, little man. You wouldna want this to be over too soon."

  MacEwan gasped just as his head went under.

  Down, down, the kelpie swam, as though running on dry land. The pressure increased until MacEwan felt it start to push the air from him. It could not be much further.

  Could it?

  The thought crossed his mind that maybe he had made a tactical error in enraging the kelpie. He might not ever make it to the lady’s lair.

  But he would ne’er let go.

  Chapter Seven

  "I brought you a toy, Aeryn."

  Nib’s voice shook Aeryn from her study of her pretty baby where he lay on his tummy, reaching for the colored crystals she had laid before him. His cooing warmed her heart, made her smile, and, she admitted to herself, eased the new loneliness that ached within her.

  "What trinket is it this time, my friend?" she asked over her shoulder.

  Nib whinnied and then a shower of water pelted her and the bairn. She yanked the Campbell plaid over Malcolm and grimaced.

  "Nib, must you do that?"

  A thud made her finally turn.

  MacEwan lay on the floor.

  The sight of his handsome face gave her a jolt of joy.

  "I see you are pleased with my gift," Nib said.

  "Yes, but he is dangerous. He still wants to take Malcolm." And, though she didn’t say it aloud, he made her feel things she did not understand and could not control. "Why did you bring him here?"

  "He forced me to. I should have eaten him when I had the chance."

  Aeryn gazed at her friend. A smile broke over her face. "Oh, Nib. You are so soft-hearted. You have never eaten man-flesh."

  Nib’s big horse-eyes rolled. "Only because I am sure it would give me indigestion. But I can eat this one if you wish him gone."

  "No!"

  "Ah, I thought so." Nib clopped closer to her, nuzzling her cheek with his velvety nose. "Aeryn, you are dear to me and I would not have you hurt." He cast a look at the playing child. "Maybe it would be best to give the bairn back to his mother. Then this one--" He kicked a hoof out at MacEwan’s still form. "Will leave you in peace."

  Perhaps she did not want to be left in peace. Perhaps the yearning she felt in her heart was more than lust for his body. She moved to kneel beside him, pushing the wet hair from his brow.

  He moaned at her touch. "Aeryn."

  Once again the joy of her name on his lips quickened the beat of her heart. This was the feeling her mother had told her of. Warned her of. Men were not constant, she’d said. Sometimes they only pretended to give their hearts just to plant their root inside a woman’s body for a quick slaking of their lust.

  Had it only been lust between them? Her heart was aching for him, as well as the other parts of her. It was not only the baser desires on her part, but what of his?

  "Leave us, please, Nib."

  "Aeryn--"

  She held up her hand. "No, I must learn for certain where his feelings lay."

  "I dinna want to tell you, Aeryn, but I must. His quest to retrieve the bairn has a motive."

  She shut her eyes. So her handsome one had not been so pure in simply wanting to return the child to his mother. "What is his motive?"

  "He is to marry Campbell’s daughter."

  The words shafted through her. It was just as her mother had warned. MacEwan was promised to another. "You are certain?" She had not needed to ask. She knew already Nib spoke the truth.

  "I heard it from his own lips."

  Aeryn placed her hand over her belly where the child they had made grew even now.

  Their son.

  A child he must never know of, for if he were so determined to retrieve Campbell’s son, she could only imagine the lengths he would go to retrieve his own blood.

  She should let Nib eat him. And get indigestion.

  Shivers of disgust with herself for even entertaining the thought rippled over her.

  Anger replaced her pain. She should tell Nib to take him away. But not yet. Not until she heard the truth from MacEwan’s own lips.

  Once more she turned to Nib. "Go, please, Nib. Leave us alone for a bit."

  * * * *

  MacEwan opened his eyes. Where was he?

  "So, handsome one. You finally awaken?"

  He rolled onto his side and looked over at her.

  "So it appears." He glanced around. "Where is your kelpie friend?"

  "He has a name, you know. Nib took Malcolm for a stroll."

  "Don’t you fear he will eat him?"

  Aeryn’s laughter filled the cave, washing over him like ripples of joy.

  "Nib talks, but he is a good soul."

  "Do such creatures have souls?"

  "Do not we all?"

  There was something different about her. She seemed even softer, more gentle than before. Her eyes glowed, soothing his misgivings.

  She sat beside him, gazing into his eyes. "Who are you really, Leith MacEwan?"

  "I am a man. Nothing more."

  Aeryn laid her hand against his heart and only then did MacEwan realize he was naked. He jerked back.

  "Where is my clothing?"

  She shrugged. "It was wet. I removed it and put it before the fire to dry."

  He looked over to confirm her words. Sure enough, his tunic, breeches and plaid hung over a line strung before the fireplace.

  They sat on the pallet of furs where they had made love. Their mingled scents still remained, exciting him.

  Was this part of her plan?

  She tipped her head, looking at him quizzically.

  "What?" he asked softly, wondering what she was thinking.

  "I am listening to your heart."

  "Can you do that?"

  She nodded. "I can, if the heart calls to mine."

  "Meaning?"

  "I can only read the heart of those who would call to me, share with me, give their own heart in return."

  What did his heart say? Did he even know? Things had been happening so fast he was not sure what she heard.

  "You are to be married." She said it almost nonchalantly.

  How had she known that? Had his heart told her? Or had she only guessed? He winced. Either way, she deserved the truth.

  "That is why I am here." Quickly he added, "At Campbell’s."

  She nodded. "The daughter is beautiful, then?"

  "Yes. She is beautiful."

  "And you love her?"

  MacEwan chuckled. "I only I met her yesterday."

  "But you would marry her and give her bairns?"

  "It is time I married. My father desires this joining of our clan to Campbell’s." A stray thought coalesced. "And what of your people, lady? Do you ever marry and raise children together?"

  She rose from the pallet and walked away without answering. He waited, for he could see that his question troubled her. There was a tension in her shoulders, hesitation in her step, and she would not look at him directly.

  He settled back against the pallet and waited, wondering why he had asked her that question. He was already promised to Tyra. Knowing that it might be possible to tie this marvelous creature to him forever was a burden he did not need. Better by far to believe she was beyond his reach.

  At last she returned and knelt beside him again, finally meeting his gaze.

  "Sometimes a lady will join with a man."

  He looked closely at her face. Though a small smile bowed her lips, her face wore such sadness that he could feel her sorrow in his own soul.

  "My people take vows seriously." She paused, looking away again as she asked, "Will you marry her, then?"

  MacEwan’s hear
t tore for her, her sorrow engulfed him. "I am promised." He took her hand and held it to his breast. "For we, too, take vows seriously."

  Aeryn shook her head. "Not all of you, dear MacEwan, for my father forgot my mother after he had his ride."

  He laid his finger under her chin and tipped her head up to meet his gaze. "That is not something I would do, Aeryn. I would not make you promises I could not keep."

  "Will you give me your heart?"

  "Is it mine to give?"

  "Your heart is yours. An arranged marriage cannot change that."

  He knew that what she said was true. A feeling, half sorrow, half joy, swept over him. She was right.

  "Then it is yours."

  She smiled and stroked her fingers along his cheek, trailing them down through the hair on his chest.

  "Yes, our hearts call to each other. Can you hear mine?" She gazed into his eyes and he felt a touch in his mind, fingers of sensation moving into him, twining with him to become a single being. Love bathed him in glowing rays and joy filled him to bursting.

  She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him to her. "If this is all we have, then my heart accepts."

  She pressed her lips to his, sweeping her tongue across his mouth, seeking entry.

  MacEwan enfolded her to him, wanting to take her into himself forever.

  Was it possible to find such love in so short a time? He felt as though he had known this lady forever, and that his life would be empty without her.

  Then all thought fled as she lifted her gown from her shoulders, revealing her white skin and delicate form to his eyes. His hands needed no urging. He watched his fingers cup her breasts and his thumbs rough her rosy nipples to pouting hardness.

  Aeryn’s head fell back and she sighed. She arched, pushing her breasts more firmly into his hands.

  They had shared their hearts, now they would share their bodies. He took her and rolled her beneath him. Her thighs parted and his root pressed between the tender lips of her womanhood, the womanhood only he had known.

  She sighed and twisted, grinding the tip of his root against the thatch of golden hair at the juncture of her thighs.

  Desperate madness.

  Desperate need.

  Overwhelming joy.

  "MacEwan, beloved," she whispered against his mouth.

  Her breath, sweet and warm, added to the sea of feelings he swam in. Her fingers, first scratching, then touching butterfly soft, the rising scent of her woman's need, the warmth of her body, the velvet of her lips, all worked together to bring him closer to the edge.

  She grasped his manhood and pulled gently, settling his tip against the wet heat of her entrance. She arched against him, driving herself onto him. The feeling was more than MacEwan could bear and he thrust into her, driving deeper and deeper with each motion, claiming her as his own.

  And when he could hold onto his reason no more, when he felt she, too, was on the precipice with him, ready to take his hand and soar by his side, he gave over all control of his body to his beloved.

  "Aeryn, come with me," he whispered.

  And she did.

  Chapter Eight

  A chuckle woke her. Aeryn opened her eyes and tipped her head where it rested on MacEwan’s outstretched arm. The sinew rippled beneath her neck and she reveled in his power.

  "What are you laughing at?" she asked.

  "Me." He turned toward her and smiled as he raised his hand to smooth her cheek. "I have never ... well, been so out of control before."

  "Is that a good thing then?"

  His smile broadened. "Yes, beloved. I think it is."

  They lay quiet, touching, body and mind and heart. She could hear his heart and basked in the love there.

  How had it happened so quickly? What magic had created the bond between them, so tight, so strong, so fast?

  Better to not examine that too closely. Magic did not bear close scrutiny, her grandmere had always said. It was enough that his heart-song could not be counterfeited. She was certain he loved her. That would be enough if that were all she was to have.

  The echo of Nib’s clopping hooves alerted them they were about to be interrupted. When his long face peered around the corner, teeth clenching the plaid cradle holding her baby, Aeryn grinned.

  "So, nursemaid, you have returned with my bairn?"

  She felt MacEwan tense beside her.

  So suddenly did he change she did not know she was sensing the same man.

  He still wanted the child.

  Could she have been wrong? Could he have created what she wanted to see in him? Could he have fooled her?

  When he closed his heart from her, she knew he had. But it was too late. He had given it. It belonged to her.

  She reached for her gown and pulled it on. MacEwan, wordless, sat up and began to don his own clothing. Nib, for his part, carried the baby over to the cradle of furs and laid him down.

  "I think I shall be going now," Nib said.

  "Wait, Nib. You need to return MacEwan to the surface world. I believe his business here is done."

  MacEwan shot her a look. "Aeryn, you know what passed between us--"

  "Silence! I want you to go."

  He glanced at Malcolm.

  "Without my child."

  "I made Campbell a vow."

  "A bargain, I’d say. His daughter in payment for your services as a tracking hound."

  "Aeryn, be reasonable. His mother--"

  "Should not have lost him." She relied on the one thing that made her fear to give the babe back. If the child had been stolen and left for dead once, it could happen again. She was not being selfish in wishing to keep the bairn safe. Malcolm had been brought to her to protect. And she would.

  "Do not be childish, Aeryn. He is not a toy or any such fanciful thing for you to play with. He belongs with his parents."

  She turned on him. "And you, MacEwan, where do you belong?"

  He stiffened as though she had struck him. "I thought I knew, but I canna be certain now. Perhaps I need time to think."

  "Perhaps you do."

  * * * *

  MacEwan slid from Nib’s back and started walking pensively toward the keep.

  "MacEwan!"

  He turned back. "What, kelpie?"

  "What happened in there? Did you make her a vow?"

  Had he? He thought back over what had been said. "No. I told her I was not free to make a vow."

  "And she accepted that?"

  Again, MacEwan reviewed what she had said, what he had heard from her heart.

  "Yes. She accepted it."

  Nib grunted then was silent for a long moment. "It dinna be my place to speak of these things, little man, but I shall do so anyway."

  He stepped closer and looked MacEwan in the eye. "She loves you."

  The kelpie’s words balmed an open wound. But if she loved him, why had she sent him away? He wasn’t sure he believed it. "How would you know that?"

  "I know Aeryn. She is a loch lady. They do not give their hearts often, but once they do, they are constant, many times to their sorrow." The kelpie came even closer, bared his teeth and turned his head so one large, liquid brown eye stared into MacEwan’s face.

  "If you have nothing to give her and promised her nothing, then you have nothing to regret. She had the power to stop you at any time and she did not. But if all you intend to do is take the child from her, leave her alone. Leave her and go marry Campbell’s spawn."

  "How did you know I was to marry Tyra?"

  Nib shot his ears forward. "What are these? Carrots?" He wiggled them. "I heard you when Campbell found you lying beside the loch. ‘Tell Tyra to prepare for a marriage,’ I believe you said?"

  MacEwan nodded. "That was the plan. Then."

  "And now?"

  Part of him resented this questioning, but he knew the kelpie truly cared for Aeryn. He had been her friend and protector, if MacEwan was any judge of matters. The shape-shifting man-horse had a right to see to Aeryn’s well
-being.

  "Now things are different. More complicated. I made a vow to Campbell to return his son in exchange for his daughter’s hand."

  "Well, then, it would seem to me that if you dinna return the child, then your marrying the clootie woman is out of the question."

  MacEwan was taken aback. "Why do you call her a ‘devil woman’?"

  Nib snorted in what MacEwan took for disgust. "Let’s just say that maybe the woman is not as innocent as she appears."

  At that the kelpie turned and galloped into the forest. MacEwan watched, considering the words. Perhaps he should return to the keep and ask some questions of the lovely Tyra.

  * * * *

  A short time later he found her alone in the kitchen garden, pulling weeds from among the fennel.

  "Good day, Tyra."

  She looked up and he was amazed by how quickly her smile faded, replaced by an expression of grave concern

  "Good day to you, MacEwan. Have you found my brother?"

  "I canna tell you any good news, I fear." He did not know why, but thought it was best not to reveal to her what he’d discovered.

  "My father willna tell me nor Ellen what is going on, though any fool can see there is much activity around the loch. I have even seen you there walking the perimeter." She fixed him with a glance. "What took you there? Do you think the child-stealer drowned the child?"

  The same intuition that had guided him so far warned MacEwan continue to keep his own counsel. "I was looking everywhere I could think of. The loch was a logical place to search, so I did."

  "Well," she said, wiping her hands on her apron. "I hope you find him soon so that we can wed."

  "Does that idea please you?"

  She shrugged and smiled. "I dinna truly have much to say in the matter. But if I am to be wed, I can think of worse husbands." She stepped closer to him, her loose red hair catching the breeze and lifting around her face. The scent of lavender wafted to his nose, tantalizing him. Still, he could not help but realize that being so close to her did not excite him as much as the mere thought of the lady beneath the loch.

 

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