“Would you hush? There’s no romance to be spoken of,” Neala said, shooting a glance at where the men gathered by the barn door, checking to make sure the boat was properly hitched.
“Oh, come now, I see how he looks at you,” Bianca pouted.
“How he looks… does he look at me then?” Neala asked.
Bianca bounced on her heels. “See? You are interested.”
“That wasn’t fair.” Now it was Neala’s turn to pout.
“I know. But the truth has its way of working itself free, no?”
“He said he’d kiss me breathless if I licked my lips again.” Neala rushed the words out, deciding to trust Bianca before she could talk herself out of it.
“Ohhhh.” Bianca fanned her face. “I’m betting he’s a hell of a kisser too. Quiet man. But still waters run deep, you know?”
“I’d say.” Neala blew out a breath.
“They’re calling us. We’ll talk about this after. For now, remember – kill anything that glows silver. You can be having a talk with your god or goddess about the morality of it when this is all over. If you’re the religious type,” Bianca said.
“I’m not,” Neala said.
“Good. You’ll be a better fighter for it.”
Chapter Thirteen
“You’re certain this is safe?” Neala asked, her eyes taking in the waves that crashed against the shoreline. The rain continued to come down in impenetrable sheets, and it was all Neala could do to try and see a meter in front of her face.
“No,” Dagda said, and hopped out of the car to direct Blake as he backed the boat into the water.
“Lovely,” Neala breathed.
“Nothing’s safe, honey. Be it going to the market or getting on a boat in a storm. It’s an all-out war, don’t you see? Be on guard at all times,” Seamus advised.
“He’s right. But you’ll be fine. We are going to kick some Domnua arse, rescue Clare, and get out of here. Damn, I’m trying not to be worried,” Bianca admitted.
Neala leaned over to squeeze her. “I’m sorry. I know she’s your friend.”
“My best friend. We’ve been friends for years and seen each other through a lot of tough times. But this may take the cake,” Bianca admitted and then took a deep breath, wiping the expression of worry off of her face. “Not the right attitude. I’m refocusing my energy right now.”
“That’s the way of it, love,” Seamus said and then opened the door to the rain, ushering them out of the truck. Automatically, Neala ducked her head against the onslaught of water, but it did no good. Every part of her not covered by the rain gear was instantly soaked.
So much for the new makeup she’d put on this morning.
“Everyone up,” Sean shouted from where they held the front of the boat, pitching wildly in the waves and wind, and Neala gasped when she was lifted as though she weighed nothing and deposited on the deck. Her waist burned where Dagda had lifted her, his energy seeming to pierce the cold and the rain to heat her core.
Soon everyone but Dagda was aboard, and Neala gasped when the engines started.
“Dagda’s not on the boat,” she said, trying to rush to the bow.
“Stay with me, lass,” Blake ordered, grabbing her arm and pulling Neala close to his body. “He’s walking the boat out. He’ll be on board shortly.”
Dagda nudged the boat forward, the waves crashing around him, but his height helped and he guided them out until he was waist deep in the water, then clambered on board as easily as if he were a young lad climbing a tree. Neala decided she didn’t want to examine the feeling she’d had when the boat was pulling away from Dagda too closely, so she bent her head against the onslaught of rain instead.
Dagda moved to stand behind her, just pressing close enough that she could feel him there, a cocoon of safety at her back. Seamus stood in a similar position behind Bianca, while Blake took the front of the boat, his eyes scanning the dark water.
“How can he see anything at all?” Neala shouted against the wind.
“Running lights, plus magick, plus Sean knows the waters and he’s monitoring his gear,” Dagda said, his mouth at her ear, and Neala nearly jumped at having his lips so close to her skin.
Sean stood tall against the onslaught of the rain, his shoulders braced, his hands steady on the wheel. A small shade cover sheltered him partly, but the rain was flying all but sideways, and no one was exempt from getting soaked. The rest of them huddled together at the back, forming a semicircle, their eyes staring out into the darkness as waves slapped the boat, rocking it on its keel.
It was there, in the darkness of the waves, that Neala caught a glimpse of it.
A flash of silver.
She strained her eyes to see if there was more, but saw nothing.
“I think I saw…” Neala said and then shook her head, not wanting to appear foolish.
“Saw what?” Dagda demanded.
“Just… a flash of silver, but now I see nothing. I’m sure I’m deluding myself,” Neala shouted.
“On guard,” Dagda shouted, and everyone on the boat went into action, pulling knives, daggers, and various weapons out of pouches and satchels. Even Sean pulled what looked like a machete from beneath the steering wheel.
For an eerily long moment, the waves and rain seemed to quiet, and all was silent.
When the Domnua hit, they did so with the force of a vengeful hurricane.
Chapter Fourteen
Bianca had been right about the Domnua being fast, but Neala had no way of truly understanding what she meant until they poured over the side of the boat, an endless stream of silver warriors, as dense as the rain that once again fell from the sky.
The battle exploded instantly, with Bianca and Seamus diving into the flurry of Domnua, holding onto each other or the side of the boat for purchase as they fought both the rocking waves and the attacking Domnua. Blake, his back pressed to Sean’s, fought off an ever-increasing onslaught of fae while Sean held the wheel steady, persevering though a battle raged around him.
That’s a sea captain, right there, Neala thought dumbly, crouched against the rail as she held the dagger in front of her, her eyes trying to track every movement, though it was virtually impossible to do so.
But oh… Dagda. Dagda was a sight to behold, in his element like every warrior doing what they were born to do – fight to protect what was theirs. He was, quite simply, magnificent. Domnua that attempted to jump on his back were tossed easily over the side of the boat, while others, approaching from the front, were felled four at a time with one stroke of his sword. Dagda lifted his head and howled to the sky, his hair slick with rain, his eyes alight with battle, and all Neala could do was stare in awe.
And be thankful that he was on their side.
She didn’t know if she should jump into the battle or stay where Dagda had deposited her with the strict order to stay put. Not knowing which was worse –ignoring his orders or not fighting – Neala finally decided she needed to do something, anything at all, to help. Sucking in her breath, Neala stepped forward.
She was instantly grabbed from behind. “Dagda!” she screamed, and struggled against the grip that banded her arms to her waist like steel.
So, that would have been the wrong voice to listen to, Neala thought as she gasped for air and kicked against the knees of the Domnua holding her, trying to angle her foot backwards to kick him where it would hurt a man most.
Silver liquid exploded around them, covering her, and Neala dropped to the floor. She narrowly missed slipping when Dagda grabbed her arm, the sword raised in one arm.
“I told you to stay put,” Dagda said, his face furious.
“I can’t just sit there and not help,” Neala shouted.
“You are helping. By staying put. Don’t you understand? They’re after you! The more we have to track you around the boat, the more likely one of us will die. Sit. Down.” Dagda pushed her back into her hiding spot and stood in front of her, at the ready.
Ne
ala instantly felt foolish. He was unequivocally right, though she hadn’t really understood that the Domnua would solely be seeking her out. She’d thought they would come after all of them – that was why they were trying to rescue Clare, wasn’t it? But now she felt awful for having put the others at danger with her own misguided voice.
Great, and they wanted her to trust her instincts? So far, she was not doing a good job.
“Cannon Rock,” Blake shouted and almost instantly, all the Domnua disappeared, blinking away as if someone had turned the light out. The rain slowed, but still hung on, and Neala could just barely make out the rocky shoreline of a small island.
“There’s no way we can land a boat there,” Neala gasped, wiping silver blood from her face, watching as it dissolved in the rain at her feet. It was almost like ecto cooler blood, all neon and glowy, but silver instead of green.
“We’ll land it. Trust me,” Sean called back.
Seeing as how he’d kept the boat from capsizing amidst a raging storm and a fierce battle, Neala figured she could count on him. Pushing the worry aside, she eased up from where she crouched on the floor of the boat.
“I’m sorry,” Neala said, addressing the group.
“That’s okay. It’s hard to resist the urge to help. But in that case, Dag was right. It’s best you stay protected. If something happens to you – all is lost,” Seamus said.
“Great, so no pressure, right?” Neala grumbled.
“Just don’t be stupid,” Dagda said.
Neala turned to glare at him. “Nobody told me I was the one they were after,” she pointed out.
“Then maybe you should just listen when orders are given,” Dagda said, his tone even, his eyes on the looming rocks. “Get up to speed. You’re the one who can make or break this quest. Putting the people who are here to help you in unnecessary danger is unacceptable.”
Dagda moved to the front of the boat to confer with Blake, and Neala blinked back the threat of tears.
“Don’t let him get to you. I sense he’s more bark than bite. Probably just scared for you,” Bianca said, squeezing her arm. “You know how men get.”
“I am sorry. Truly. I just wanted to help.”
“Trust me, you’ll help in a lot of ways along this quest. But you can’t help in the ways you want to all the time. We’re a team, okay?”
Neala drew in a shaky breath and watched Dagda jump fearlessly into the water, pulling the boat to a miniscule patch of flat shoreline with ease.
“You’re right. I’m used to calling the shots. I’ll be better at it next time,” Neala said, offering Bianca a contrite smile.
“No worries. Let’s go get Clare.”
“How will we know where she is?” Neala asked as they hefted knapsacks onto their shoulders and walked to the front of the boat.
“It’s a tiny island,” Sean said, turning the engines off, “only a lighthouse on it. I suspect she’ll be in there, unless there’s some underground cave I don’t know about. We’ll be onto her quick enough.”
“You know the way?” Blake asked as they stood at the front of the boat. Seamus hopped easily onto the beach and reached for Bianca. Neala once again was faced with Dagda, who wrapped his arm around her waist and swung her smoothly onto shore.
“Aye, I know the way. But turn your head lanterns on. The lighthouse isn’t functioning, and the path up the cliff is rocky.”
Lights on, they turned into the night, and worked their way to find Clare – the first Seeker to find her treasure.
Chapter Fifteen
Dagda did his best to ignore Neala’s presence, though she was right there in front of him, trudging along in the rain. Even covered in a yellow rain slicker – all but a shapeless sack, really – she enticed him. He swore he could smell her scent on the rain, a mouthwatering blend of vanilla and cinnamon, which he assumed came from being in a bakery all day long. It made him want to nip at her neck, cuddle her close, and dive into exploring all the dips and curves of her generous body.
“I’m sorry,” Neala said over her shoulder, sounding for all the world like a puppy he’d just kicked.
Dagda sighed and continued to scan the rocky landscape around them, looking for any sign of Domnua.
“Live and learn.”
“I know. I’m a fast learner, but this is all so new to me. I don’t think I really understood the scope of it all, or just what we were walking into. I’m not used to being the focal point, nor having someone else look out for me. I’ve done everything on my own, you see? It’s hard to turn off that switch and follow orders, especially if I feel like I can be helping.”
It made sense to him, even though he’d wanted to throttle her after he’d destroyed the Domnua who had been trying to pull her into the water. Seeing her in harm’s way had only reinforced his belief that he needed to keep as much professional distance between them as possible. The thoughts that had gone through his head at the possibility of her being hurt or killed had chilled him to the core. Dagda was a one-man band, used to flying solo, and he preferred to keep it that way. He’d spent his life roaming the world on motorcycles and wandering free until the goddess Danu had called him home to serve his people. It was a post he’d taken freely, and happily, but not with the expectation of developing any sort of attachments in his life.
In fact, it had seemed like the perfect job to not form attachments. He needed to be ready at a moment’s notice, slip in and out of magickal worlds, and destroy Domnua when necessary. He needed to be smoke in the wind.
Not thinking about bedding Neala.
At first, he’d tried to pass it off as an entertaining possibility. The woman was a knock-out – one of the most beautiful he’d seen in all his travels, and he’d certainly spent time with many a woman. But something about her had beckoned to him, a sweet innocence lying beneath her no-nonsense exterior, that had made him yearn for something more than a quick tumble with her.
Which was why he was determined to keep his distance, and to not examine his feelings on that front too deeply.
“I understand. I’m much the same. Having done everything on my own, as well. But believe me when I say that if I tell you to stay put, I damn well mean it. I need to know you are where I told you to be. What if I’d swung around blindly and hit you with my sword? There are deeper ramifications to your actions now. Just be glad that nobody was hurt, and learn from it.”
“I will, I promise,” Neala said.
They continued on in silence for a while, moving as fast as they could in the beam of their lights, the rocks slippery beneath their feet in the still misting night.
“Where were you that you did everything on your own? You’re fae, no?” Neala asked, and Dagda almost sighed. Women, always wanting to talk.
“Exploring the world. I’m a rambler; I don’t set down roots. I pick up a motorcycle in whatever country I’m in and hit the open road. Meeting new people along the way, learning new cultures.”
“How did you end up here then?”
“The goddess asked.”
Dagda saw Neala shake her head.
“I’m still getting used to this whole goddess thing, if I’m to be honest. Not out of disrespect or anything, it’s just… wow. The goddess asked you to do something. What was she like?”
“Beautiful beyond this world. Light and awesomeness in a manner most difficult to describe. You don’t just see her light and beauty, it’s something you feel deep within. She’s what I imagine a butterfly’s laughter looks like.”
“That’s… completely charming,” Neala laughed and shot him a smile over her shoulder. The look in her eyes would have dropped a lesser man to his knees to beg for her attention.
“Aye, well, when the goddess calls – you answer. But this is a high honor and I’m happy to be of service to my people, as I’ve wandered for years now and haven’t always been around to help.”
“Family?”
“Not much in the way of that,” Dagda said, shutting that door.
/> “Ah, I understand you there. Though I’ve never been much of a wanderer. I think I needed a home, which is how I ended up opening a bakery. I wanted a place that was all my own.”
“It’s a lovely shop,” Dagda said, and almost kicked himself. It’s a lovely shop? He was going to make himself sound like a weakling.
“Thank you. I’m quite proud of it.”
“Enough talking. Best to keep your eyes ahead. I suspect we’re walking into a trap,” Dagda said, shutting the conversation down. It was more talking than he’d done in weeks, and it wasn’t helping his plan to keep himself distanced from Neala.
If anything, he suspected his heart was already ensnared in its own trap.
Chapter Sixteen
A butterfly’s laugh, Neala thought, replaying the phrase in her head. It was exceptionally charming, but also invoked a feeling of playfulness and joy that she hadn’t expected from a gruff man such as Dagda. She wondered if he was sentimental, or what other layers could be found beneath his tough guy exterior.
Oh, but she could just see him, muscles bulging, riding a motorcycle on the open road with wind blowing in his hair. She wondered if he had any tattoos, and added that to her mental image of him. Neala was surprised to find that she was picturing herself riding behind him on the bike, and for the first time really yearned for the freedom of the open road. Traveling had never been at the top of her priority list, and until a few years ago it had been virtually impossible, as she’d scraped and scrimped every penny together to keep her bakery alive.
But now? Oh, she wanted to see the world! A bit at a time, of course, but maybe once she opened a second store and hired a manager. Maybe she’d treat herself to the pasta-making class in Italy she’d always wanted to try.
“Lighthouse ahead,” Blake called.
04 Sphere Song - The Isle of Destiny Page 6