From The Deep

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by From the Deep (anthology) [lit]


  Campbell glared down at her. "Even if you had been a son, I would not make you my heir, for being a woman does not make you a liar and petty deceiver. That is what is in your soul."

  He waved the two burly Highlanders forward. "Take her to her chamber and lock her in. She left my son to die in the loch. Such shall be her same punishment. We take her at dawn."

  "No, Campbell."

  The woman’s voice reached deep into MacEwan’s belly as he turned to see Aeryn step through the doorway, the bairn in her arms.

  Ellen cried out, "Malcolm!" and started toward them, followed closely by her husband, his hand on the hilt of his sword.

  MacEwan jumped between them, his own sword out, tip pointed to the ground, but ready.

  "This is Aeryn. The woman who saved your son."

  "And the lady of Loch Bemis," Aeryn added. "I found the babe after your daughter abandoned him in the reeds. I would keep him, but heard the heart-cries of his mother and cannot let her suffer so."

  Tyra gasped. "No! No! No! He is dead." She turned to MacEwan. "You said he was dead!"

  MacEwan shook his head. "No, Tyra. I did not. You made your own assumption on that score."

  Tyra threw herself against the stones and wept her frustration. MacEwan found he had little in the way of sympathy for her.

  Aeryn held the squirming child out to his mother. "Here is your son, Ellen."

  Ellen took her baby and held him tight to her bosom. "Thank you, lady."

  Aeryn’s smile lit the whole room. "He is a sweet bairn. He will make a fine man."

  MacEwan felt a swelling of pride in her. She had chosen to do the right thing and it was costing her. He could see the glistening of tears as she watched the child she loved returned to his mother’s arms.

  She turned to Campbell. "Now, my lord, the punishment you have spoken is fair, for the bairn might have died, had not your daughter been seen leaving him. But she is your blood. Can you really commit her to my waters?"

  "I have vowed to do so."

  "Yea, you have. And she deserves to be punished, but can you not think of another punishment which would serve as well as her death?"

  Campbell ran his fingers through his hair. "Have you a suggestion, lady?"

  "She could do good to make up for the hurt she has caused."

  Every eye was on the old man as he stared at his daughter, still sobbing on the floor.

  "Tyra, look at me."

  She raised her red-rimmed eyes to obey.

  "You will go to the convent at Inverness. There you shall help the holy sisters in their work."

  "For how long?" Tyra asked, wiping her tears away.

  "Until you learn to be whole."

  Tyra frowned. "What does that mean?"

  Aeryn stepped forward. "To love and care for others more than yourself. To learn to nurture life, not to throw it away. I hope you can learn that. Otherwise, your father would be wise to keep you locked away forever."

  Tyra opened her mouth to respond, but stopped. Her lips snapped shut and she said nothing more.

  Campbell turned to MacEwan. "MacEwan, I know not how to thank you. Our bargain is clearly one you dinna want to pursue now."

  "Aeryn returned the child, not I. You owe me nothing. Except--" MacEwan spread his hands and grinned. "Perhaps an alliance between our clans would be near as good as a marriage, I’m thinking."

  Campbell nodded.

  MacEwan looked over at Aeryn. She smiled sadly and said, "It is time for me to return to my loch."

  "Will you not stay for a bit, Lady Aeryn?"

  MacEwan watched, feeling her pain, as she looked once more at Malcolm, now cradled in his mother’s arms.

  "I dinna think so," she said softly, then turned and left.

  Chapter Twelve

  Aeryn sat at the table. Alone. The day after she’d returned Malcolm to his family, MacEwan had left the keep, with an agreement for an alliance between the two clans.

  She was glad for him. He had attained what he had come for, though in a different way than planned.

  Her hand went to her belly, where not even a rounding yet showed the evidence of the bairn within. Yestereen, in the quiet of the night as she lay alone before her fire, she had wondered if she should have told MacEwan about the babe. Would he be angry when he found out she’d hidden his child’s existence from him? Would he ever forgive her?

  Would he ever even think of her?

  She buried her head on her folded arms on the table and allowed tears ease her pain.

  She had no more begun to wash away her sorrow when she heard the clip-clop of Nib’s hooves down the back passage. She wouldn’t let him see her like this. Quickly she wiped the tears from her cheeks and raised her head.

  "Now get off my back, little man."

  Aeryn jerked around at the sound of Nib's name for MacEwan, not daring to believe....

  But there he was, sliding off Nib’s back.

  "Thanks for the ride, Nib."

  The sound of his deep voice filled her ears. Had he really come to her?

  "If you ever tell anyone I volunteered to give you a ride, I’ll drown you and eat you."

  MacEwan laughed. "I shall keep that in mind, kelpie."

  She could only stare as Nib departed without even speaking to her, leaving MacEwan standing there, grinning at her.

  "It seems, my lady Aeryn, that we have unfinished business." He strode across the cave to her and took both her hands in his own. Bending his head slowly, he brushed his lips across hers.

  "My beloved, did I ever tell you that near my family’s keep, there is a loch more beautiful than this one?"

  The End

  CURRENTS RUN DEEP

  By

  Shelley Munro

  Chapter One

  Well ... hello, gorgeous.

  Asia Bolino tried not to stare and slid slowly into the Norah Jones number, following the cue from the accompanying musician. Her heart shifted into an erratic gallop while a wave of heat engulfed her body. Turn around, she pleaded silently. Oh, looking good. Go on. Turn right around. Let me get a good look at you....

  Aw, rats!

  Disappointment throbbed through her voice before she pulled herself together and continued smoothly singing the song. She knew that face, and the man was off limits. Way off limits.

  Roman Anderson.

  What was he doing slumming it in the Blue Venetian Nightclub?

  Her mother would have a conniption if she became involved with an Anderson. Ah, well. No harm appreciating the view. Because there was no getting away from it--the man was a mighty fine specimen. To hear her family talk he was the devil incarnate, but jeepers, the man oozed sex appeal. She inhaled sharply as she viewed his rear end. Yep, he looked good from all angles.

  Asia held the final note before letting it trail off. The music ended, and she smiled at the audience, graciously accepting the applause with a regal incline of her head.

  Roman Anderson was not the man for her. She sighed inwardly accepting the truth but not liking it. Feuds were the pits, especially when they limited the gene pool for shape shifters like her. The warring between the Transient Orcas and the Resident Orcas was stupid and meaningless in these modern times, but Asia knew there were those who actively encouraged the rift between the tribes.

  The introductory bars of another Norah Jones favorite pulled Asia back to professionalism. She started to sing in her trademark smoky voice pleading the audience to come away with her. The low buzz of chatter in the nightclub faded, letting Asia know she was doing a good job. She let her eyes drift closed, threw back her head and poured her heart out in the music. For the three minutes of the song, she held the audience enthralled. The music faded and for a heartbeat, there was total silence before the applause broke out. Asia’s eyes popped open. She grinned broadly and bowed from the waist, giving the group of businessmen at the front table, Roman Anderson included, an excellent view of her creamy cleavage. She straightened, snagging Roman’s gaze in a long dra
wn out moment. He closed one brown eye in a wink and grinned at her, robbing her of breath.

  Maybe he was adopted. She could corrupt him, she thought, taking half a step toward him before common sense kicked in.

  “That’s the end of Scarlet’s segment for now,” an announcer said over the loudspeaker. “She’ll be back for another at midnight.”

  Asia stepped down from the stage and headed to the bar for her customary glass of sparkling water. She leaned against the shiny, wooden bar and inhaled deeply, wanting to fan the heat from her face. She resisted, feeling a little pique. A man hadn’t affected her this way since her ill-fated romance with her ex-manager. She should know better than to lust after a pretty face.

  Asia waited while Frank, the barman, served a group of young women out for a hen’s night judging by the screeching and laughter. She noticed several of them were eyeing up Roman. None of her business! But she couldn’t prevent the satisfaction that stole through her when Roman totally ignored them.

  “Hey, Frank. It’s busy tonight,” she murmured when he had finished serving the rush of customers. The sharp tang of smoke contrasted with the sweetness of the floral scent wafting from the young women standing beside her.

  “Sure is, Scarlet.” Frank placed a glass in front of her. “Looks like someone is trying to get your attention.” He gestured behind her with a jerk of his blond head.

  Asia smelled the green, fresh scent of outdoors, then the warm muskiness of a male body. She turned ready to voice a protest.

  “Sorry, Scarlet.” Roman’s voice was husky and strummed pleasantly across her nerves. It matched the sexy body perfectly. “I didn’t mean to crowd you. Someone pushed me.” His brown eyes twinkled down at her, a novel experience for Asia since she hit six foot in her bare feet and looked down at most men. “Not that I’m sorry. You feel as good as you look.”

  An uncustomary blush climbed her neck and seeped into her cheeks. Why did the enemy have to be so sexy? So tempting?

  “No problem,” she drawled, pausing to take a sip of icy water. The cool liquid soothed her fluster until she glanced at Roman again. Shoot. He wanted her as much as she wanted him. He obviously had no idea who she was. So what did she do now? Play safe and tell him she wasn’t interested or walk on the wild side?

  “My name is Roman Anderson.” He held out his hand to cement the formal introductions.

  “Scarlet,” Asia said with a note of caution.

  “Pleased to meet you, Scarlet. Could I interest you in a late supper after you’re finished up here?”

  A negative reply formed in her mind. “Yes,” she whispered. Oh, boy. Ma would lock her up and throw away the key. Except … Asia thought rapidly and decided one night with Roman Anderson was worth the risk. The family was away and wasn’t expected back until the following month. Her mother had muttered something about having a yearning for the fish off the coast of South America. No doubt they’d sample the local delicacy of seal meat while they were there basking in the foreign waters. One date. Asia glanced at Roman’s dark, handsome face. Hard to believe he was the killer whale monster depicted by her family. Where was the harm in one date?

  “Yes,” she repeated in a firm voice.

  “Great.” The man didn’t act as though her acceptance was a given, and she liked that. “Where should I meet you?”

  Asia hesitated, trying to work out what to do to maintain secrecy yet not tip Roman off that things were not quite right. “Outside the side entrance just after one?”

  “I’ll be there,” he promised, his dark eyes glowing. “I’m looking forward to getting to know you. Very much.”

  A frisson of pure lust swept through Asia. Her gaze drifted across his face, his mouth, and she wondered what it would feel like to touch him, to lean her weight into him.

  The soft clearing of a throat jerked her back to the present. Amusement coated his smile, bringing a renewed flush of heat to her cheeks.

  “Hold that thought,” he murmured, blowing her a kiss before returning to his table.

  Asia sighed, her heart thumping as if she’d finished a hundred meter sprint. The last segment of her act couldn’t finish soon enough.

  * * * *

  Roman let his gaze wander over Scarlet. Statuesque. Curvy. Striking red hair that matched her name. He wondered if the color was real before deciding it didn’t matter. The woman oozed confidence along with sexual allure, keeping the audience enthralled with her husky voice. It thrummed through him, jerking his cock tight in pleasurable anticipation. He hadn’t come into the nightclub with the intention of finding a woman for the night, but one look at Scarlet had changed his mind.

  “Nice looking woman,” the man to his right murmured after noting the direction of Roman’s gaze.

  Damn, he didn’t like being so transparent. Not when there was business involved. “Yeah,” he said finally, aware that he couldn’t push away the man without some sort of comment. “I spoke to her when I went up to the bar. Intelligent woman.”

  “Pity,” the man said with a laugh. “Sometimes uncomplicated sex is best.”

  “I’ll admit I was tempted,” Roman said with a shrug. Instinct made him skirt the truth, the fact he was meeting her later and hoped to round the evening off with a hot and heavy session in the sack. “But once I wrap up our business discussions I’m heading back to the island. Duty calls. I’ll have to forego pleasure this time around.”

  “Yeah, I heard you live on Auckland Island. Pretty secluded place. What’s it like?”

  “Some people call it the end of the Earth. My family has lived there for generations. We like it. It’s home.” And perfect for their shape shifting species--the Resident Orcas. Most of them owned land in New Zealand, some in Australia and further a field, but they all returned to the secluded Auckland Islands, deep in the Southern Ocean where they could change at will, frolic and hunt in the ocean without fear of detection.

  “Modern technology and transport must have brought you closer,” the man observed.

  “Sure. With helicopters and small planes, it means we’re not so cut off from the mainland.” But the island still ran on a feudal system, and as head of the tribe, he was fighting off a small, vocal group who didn’t like the old ways. Roman fought a scowl at the thought. He was going to have to take action against the leaders before they ripped the tribe apart. The split that had occurred thousands of years ago in their species had done enough harm. He wouldn’t put the tribe through that again.

  “Hell, I envy the man who goes to bed with her each night,” the man said in a change of subject.

  Roman nodded, his gaze remaining on Scarlet while she performed an old Marilyn Monroe number. His breath caught halfway up his throat while his body reacted again in a way that was purely sexual. Damn. A woman hadn’t affected him in this way since his early teens. Suddenly Roman couldn’t wait to see where their date would lead.

  * * * *

  Asia stepped out of her dressing room and headed through the bar. It was empty now save for the cleaners and with the lights on full it seemed sad and tacky, like a woman dressed way too young for her age. A vacuum cleaner hummed and the clink of glasses sounded as Frank stacked them into the glass washing machine.

  “Night,” she called to Frank.

  “See you next week,” he answered before continuing with his cleaning behind the bar. Asia waved and headed for the side door that opened out into a small alley. Anticipation thrummed through her body. Nervous, she licked her lips and wiped moist palms across the seat of her black trousers. She’d left the red wig on, conscious that Roman might recognize the long black hair or at least consider her and shape shifters for a fleeting moment. She didn’t want the date to end before it began. Like many female Orcas, Asia had a lock of white hair at her temple that appeared striking against her black hair. Since she’d worked on the mainland, Asia dyed it black to avoid speculation. She thanked the impulse that had led her to touch up her roots this morning because Roman would know the significance
of the lock of white hair.

  Asia slipped out the side door and paused to allow her eyes to adjust to the dimmer light. At the far end of the small alley, light from a streetlamp spilled in from the main street. Asia heard the rumble of a car before it turned into the adjacent street and faded, leaving a throbbing silence.

  Fumes from rotten food rose from the rubbish skip between her and the exit of the alley. A shadow shifted, separating from the brick wall of the nightclub. Roman was waiting. A combination of relief and excitement fizzled through her veins. Asia paused to take a deep breath, knowing she was running a risk yet unable to withstand the temptation. A girl would need to be stark raving mad to turn down a date with Roman.

  A metallic clang broke the night. A shout. The smack of fist against human flesh. Asia rounded the skip at a sprint and saw three darkly clad men beating up Roman.

  “Hey!” she hollered. “Stop that!”

  Two of the men paused but the third plowed a fist into Roman’s belly and kicked him viciously. Roman fell, his head colliding with the footpath in a sickening thump.

  Asia rushed forward, screeching at the top of her voice. “Fire! Fire! Someone help. There’s a fire!”

  One of the men spoke in a low, guttural voice--too low for Asia to catch the words. She kept running and almost turned her ankle in a pothole. Damned high heels! “Fire!” she shouted, righting herself and ignoring the pain in her panic to stop them from hurting Roman.

  The three men melted away but not before one of them kicked Roman several times in the ribs. Asia leapt at him, ready to do some damage of her own but he was too strong and thrust her away like an unwanted piece of litter. Her butt hit the footpath with enough force to jar her whole body. Jagged pain snaked up her spine, making her eyes water.

  “Oh,” she muttered, moving gingerly to find the extent of the damage. Bruised, she decided, but there was nothing broken.

  The side door she’d exited through burst open, pummeling the brick wall with a bang. Excited voices neared from behind, and she heard the rapid retreat of footsteps. Bother and damn. They’d escape before anyone could do anything. She had no idea what they looked like either since they’d worn balaclavas that hid their faces. Asia clambered to her feet and dragged her aching body over to Roman. A nasty gash on his forehead and another on his left cheekbone marred the previous perfection of his features. Blood dripped down his face giving him a grotesque appearance. Asia checked his pulse. Still breathing, but he didn’t seem conscious.

 

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