“Ailean!” Taran greeted cheerfully.
Skye looked away quickly when they embraced, trying to think about little birds and butterflies and other nonsexual things. Alas, nothing could quell the mental images that had formed involving her überly sexy mate and the hunk that was clapping him on the back with so much enthusiasm.
Bad wolf, she chided, bad, pervy, devious (yet wonderfully inventive) wolf!
She closed her eyes for a second to pray for strength, but when she opened them again, she found Ciaran smiling at her slyly. She shot him her most menacing scowl in response. He discretely held up his hands in surrender and mimed closing a zipper across his wicked smile.
“How have the States been treating ya?” Taran asked, drawing Skye’s attention back to the epic Clash of the Tight-bodies going on beside her.
“Fan-fooking-tastic, big man!” Ailean assured with a laugh as they ended their embrace. He and Drostan hugged and exchanged quiet greetings before he turned to the third brother in the group. “Ciaran!!!” He cried as a grin lit up his face.
“Eh, Christ,” Ciaran whined, despite the smile on his lips, as Ailean eagerly dragged him into his arms.
“Ah, ye mincy mucker!” Ailean laughed as Ciaran pretended to try to squirm from his grasp. “Dae ye ken jist how much I huv missed ye?”
True to the ‘troublemaker’ label that Skye had given him in her mind, Ciaran flashed her a devious look over Ailean’s muscular shoulder. He bit his bottom lip as his eyes burned into hers. After waggling his eyebrows suggestively, he winked at her and wrapped his arms tightly around the stud.
Her jaw dropped open uselessly. She nearly fell over.
Bad Ciaran! Bad, sexy, intuitive (not to mention quickly working me to the point of hyperventilation) Ciaran!
How could she be so turned on and want to kick his little Irish ass so badly in the same instant?
Now that is a sandwich I wouldn’t mind being the center of, she mused.
“Ya know, it’s a good thing you’re so damned pretty, Ailean,” Ciaran began with a smirk, purposely bringing his lips closer to the hunk’s ear. He tried not to laugh at the pained expression on Skye’s face or the way she was now involuntarily leaning closer. If he kept it up, he could have her running inside in search of ice water. Putting his hand on the back of Ailean’s head, he pulled away enough to look him in the eyes. “Otherwise, the yanks around here would give up on trying to understand a word ya say,” he informed him.
Through the fog of pervy thoughts, Skye nodded to herself at the truth of that statement. Ailean’s accent was so thick that Taran sounded American by comparison – and that was saying a lot.
Ailean laughed and ran a hand through Ciaran’s hair playfully before letting him go. Once he had turned his attention to Skye, his brow arched in surprise. “Well, well... And hello tae ye, lassie,” he greeted.
Skye decided that she greatly disliked how appropriate that term of endearment now was for her.
“Hello, Ailean. It’s nice to meet you,” she managed as she extended her hand to him in greeting.
Ailean ignored the impersonal gesture, instead narrowing his eyes on her face.
“Sae? Let me huv a keek at ye then,” he urged and motioned for her to come closer.
Her brows drew together in bafflement as she wondered, what the hell did he just say?
Following the only thing she could understand – his hand gestures – she took a few wary steps toward him. She very quickly learned what him ‘having a keek at her’ meant, but was completely unprepared for what it entailed.
Placing his hands on her hips, Ailean proceeded to lift her up over his head as one would a child. He gave her face a thorough looking over, as if deciding whether or not to buy a piece of produce or something. After a few seconds, a grin spread across his brutally handsome features. Apparently, he approved.
“Oi, Taran, ye sponny bass! She’s a right wee stoater, she is!” He exclaimed happily and grinned up at her for another moment before setting her down on the ground. “Kinna gie’er a toaty sneck?” He asked Taran hopefully.
Skye’s face twisted in confusion as she looked to Taran expectantly. He wants to give me a what-y what now?
Taran smirked and nodded. “Ya can try – but I should warn ya, she’s liable to clout ya for the attempt.”
Ailean did not seem concerned. He waved off Taran’s words before reaching out, placing his hands on either side of her face, pulling her forward, and pressing his lips hard against hers.
Skye’s eyes widened in shock. Thankfully, she was so surprised by the act that she did not get the chance to be turned on. By the time she had even considered the need to remove his hands from her, he was pulling away.
Seeing her expression, he laughed merrily. “Tha wis a ‘welcome tae the clan’, love! Sae, ye be the one caused all this footer, eh?” He teased before motioning to the gathering of faoil who had traveled halfway around the world.
“I... guess so,” she breathed while thinking, what the hell is a ‘footer’?
He laid a hand on her shoulder and gave it a squeeze, then pulled her closer so that he could put his arm around her. The contact nearly sent her to her knees in the gravel.
Be strong legs, she willed. Don’t you dare give out on me now!
“It’s nae a thing tae go fretting aboot, wean,” he assured.
“It isn’t?” She asked. And what the hell is a ‘wean’?
Ailean laughed and shook his head. “Of course nae! Fact is, we’re all right glad ye did. Gi’es us an excuse tae see the old faces.”
The others chimed in with their agreement.
“No matter how pitiful a sight they be!” An anonymous member of the crowd shouted and the men all laughed.
“And best of all, we get the pleasure of meeting ye. Face it, lass, ye’re nae exactly hard on the eyes,” Ailean informed her with a smirk.
Skye swallowed hard and took a step closer to Taran. In that moment, she wanted nothing more than to rush back up to bed with him. If she was going to be subjected to eye candy, at least let it be eye candy that she could get naked and sweaty with. Unbeknownst to her, Taran and Ciaran exchanged an amused look behind her back at her reaction.
“Sae dain’t ye go worryin tha pretty wee heid of yers,” Ailean continued. “It’s nae e’eryday a thing like this happens. A wumman withstanding the change, who wid huv believed they wid live tae see it? Gi’es us a smidgeon of hope, ye ken? Maybe if we figure whit makes ye sae special, we can all be as sponny as Taran here and land ourselves a fancy bit fur the long haul.”
The men howled and whistled hopefully at the prospect as they shoved Taran’s shoulders.
“Ya lucky bastard!” Someone shouted.
“Course it was him to land the first woman in the clan – I’d half a mind to marry him myself!” Another called.
Taran shook his head at their goading, trying to suppress a smile. “Tha’s sweet, very sweet...oi!” He called in surprise, spinning around. “Keep your hands to yourselves!” he warned, laughing as he batted the groping grips away from his rear.
“Priceless, tha is,” Ailean laughed, until something suddenly dawned on him. “Oh bollocks, I near forgot!” He cried and smacked a palm to his forehead. “Kinna borrow Skye fur a bit? I huv a pup over thur...”
“We’re expected inside, Ailean,” Taran reminded patiently.
Ciaran nodded and tapped a finger to his watch for emphasis.
Ailean held up an imploring hand and pulled Skye over to him, as if he feared she might be spirited away. Skye struggled not to think about the return of his bare, heavily muscled arm against her new skin.
And yet again, Ciaran shot her a perceptive smile.
“But it willnae take but a second of her time,” Ailean insisted. “I huv a pup tha swears he may well know this lass of yers. Can I introduce the two? Jist to clear up any chance of mistaken identity?”
Skye’s mind abandoned its b-line for the gutter at that. “He thinks he kno
ws me?” Skye asked, gazing up at Ailean with her brows drawing together. “Where’s he from?”
Ailean opened his mouth to answer, but was cut off.
“Little blue?” A man behind them asked in uncertainty.
Skye’s eyes widened in astonishment. She spun at the familiar voice, as well as the nickname that only one person in the whole world had ever called her.
“Eli?” she whispered, afraid to believe it. Her eyes focused on him and her stomach dropped. It was like staring into the face of her past. “Oh my God, Elijah!” She cried.
“Little blue Skye!” He laughed in amazement as he swept her up into his arms. He let out a long moan of relief against her shoulder and squeezed her tightly. Skye’s laughter rang out through the suddenly silent gathering as he lifted her off her feet and spun her around.
The mood of the crowd instantly shifted from celebration to outrage. A loud growl of warning rumbled from Ciaran’s throat. His lips curled back over his teeth as he took a step forward.
“Mind your place, whelp!” Ailean snarled, livid that his pup had dared to touch the mate of an ancient in such a familiar fashion.
But before either of them could reach Elijah, Taran held up a hand.
Ciaran scowled back at him. His muscles were rigid. His talons, having presented in response to his fury, were fully extended and ready to lash out. His entire body quaked with the effort it took to remain in place.
Taran met his gaze and rested a patient hand on his shoulder before nodding that he would allow this. Skye’s reaction told him that this was a rare reunion. From what he knew of her past, he doubted there were many people alive that she would be so happy to see.
Ailean and Ciaran exchanged annoyed glances as they grudgingly stood down.
Elijah laughed as he set her back on her feet. He grinned and studied her features in wonder. “I’ll be damned, it really is you! Ooh, I can’t believe it!” He said, pulling her back in for another squeeze.
“How can you... how did you... are you... ?” She stammered, staring at him in amazement once he held her out at arms’ length. “I mean, shit – look at you!” She laughed as she gave his shoulder a playful shove. He had not aged a day. Even if Ailean had not referred to him as his ‘pup’, her sense of smell would have told her the reason. The scent of the wolf was strong on him.
She ran a hand over his long, chestnut hair that still reached his shoulders. It framed his face in a style that had always reminded her of a lion’s mane. Even his perpetual five o’clock shadow, most prevalent in the shape of a goatee, was still in place. She grinned as she traced it with her finger like she used to when she was a little girl. His powerful form was clad in that same old Jersey farm-boy style, attesting to his upbringing at his family’s horse stables. It was a look that showed that a man could dress for hard labor, yet still appear well groomed. Dark denim jeans, which seemed to be tailored specifically for him, stopped precisely at the laces of his tan construction boots. A long-sleeved white thermal was visible from his mid-biceps down to his wrists. A blue cotton t-shirt was worn over top of it. She had always asked why he wore two shirts, to which he would always frown and ask if she noticed how much larger it made his pecs look. Not that she would ever have told him, but his pecs – and all of his muscles, for that matter – never needed any assistance in looking big.
“Look at me? Look at you!” Elijah countered with a laugh. “Damn, did you go and get all kinds of grown on me or what? Lord have mercy, little blue... all growed up into a woman,” he marveled and motioned for her to give a twirl so that he could take in her appearance.
Skye complied and Taran’s heart nearly melted at the sight. Her smile was honest, warm, and carefree. The woman that he was witnessing in that moment was not the same one he knew. She was reconnecting with a simpler time in her life – a time when she had smiled often and laughed easily. ‘I was good once... ,’ he recalled her saying, ‘... good and sweet.’ In that moment, he knew he was catching a rare, brief glimpse of the sweet girl she had once been.
“You look exactly the same!” She insisted when she came to a halt in front of him again. “I can’t get over it! God, how long has it been?” She asked without thinking it through.
Her smile slowly faded as she realized the answer.
Just that quickly, the sweet girl was lost again.
Elijah’s features tensed painfully. He swallowed hard, shook his head, and cupped her cheek with his hand.
“More than a decade,” he managed in a hoarse whisper and forced a smile for her despite the heartbreak in his familiar, dark blue eyes.
Staring up at him, Skye thought back on the last time they had seen one another. Elijah had been the best friend of her eldest brother, Gavin, since before she was even born. They had taken her with them to shoot pool, taught her to play basketball and football, even let her help them when they worked on their cars. She had idolized them both. Though they were 12 years her senior, they had never treated her like a pesky, tagalong little sister. It was for that reason that killing Gavin had been the hardest.
“Guess who, little blue?”
She had heard Elijah say that behind her ear as his hands covered her eyes a million times. The last time had been on the day life as she knew it ended. Held after school – as always – she had been riding the subway on the way home, when he snuck up behind her. His shift at the naval yard let out at 4:30 pm which caused them to run into one another on the long trip most days. Sometimes she had caused problems in class just to ensure a detention. Riding home with Elijah was far more relaxed than when she traveled alone. Unlike the days when she rode solo, no one bothered the 12 year old girl riding public transportation in the heart of the city once he was sitting beside her.
“Guess who, little blue?” He teased with a smile evident in his voice. She laughed as she pried his hands from over her eyes and spun in her seat to face him. He had been playing this game with her since she was a toddler. He stood from the row behind her and walked around to the end of her pairing of seats. “How’s about sliding on over for an old head, shorty?” He groaned as he feigned a stiff back.
She had always teased him that he was practically a geezer. Back then, he had seemed impossibly old. In her perspective, his life was full of experiences that she could not begin to imagine. He had been alive for twice as long as she had, spent years traveling the world as a Navy Seal, doing and seeing things undoubtedly beyond her wildest dreams. Now that she had reached it, 24 did not seem nearly as old. Being a soldier, constantly moving around with no place to call your home was not quite as much fun as she originally believed it would be, either.
She remembered eagerly scooting over into the window seat. “Good looking out,” he had said with a grin. “Besides, there’s no way in hell you could possibly need all that room.” He teased – but he knew that she only placed her book-bag on the seat beside her to deter strangers from trying to sit there. It was just one of a million little tips that he and her brothers had given her to ease their anxiety over her traveling alone. “So,” he began with a sigh of feigned disapproval. “What did you do this time?” He asked as he settled down heavily next to her. He sank low in the seat and spread his knees apart in that lazy manner which told her it had been a long day at work. He turned his face toward her slightly, giving a mock stern look as he clasped his hands over his chest. “Spill it,” he urged.
“I broke three of Tommy Majors’ fingers,” she announced triumphantly.
“Shit!” Elijah laughed. “Did he deserve it?” Skye gave him an incredulous look. “Right, of course the little fucker deserved it,” he grumbled with a scowl. If he and her brothers had it their way, they would have sat in class with her every day. “Did you do it the way I showed you?” He asked and grinned when she nodded that she had. “Good girl. And will he need to have anything else broken, or do you have it covered?”
“I got it. But if I ever need somebody’s jaw busted, and I can’t handle it on my own, you’ll be
the first to know,” she assured.
“That’s what I like to hear,” he said before gripping her knee and jiggling it until she laughed. “Are you up for shooting some hoops with me and your big bro? Or did you tire yourself out with beating up boys?”
“Beating up boys never tires me out,” she assured. “I’m game. So does this mean you’re gonna follow me home again? Cuz I’m not supposed to bring home strays.”
He laughed and motioned to his lunch cooler and backpack. “I’m gonna drop my stuff off at my place first. You wanna tag along with me, or get off at your stop?”
“I might as well get off at my stop, that way I’ll have a few minutes to get some dinner before you show up and eat it all,” she teased.
“What’s Mom making tonight?” He asked hopefully.
“Fried chicken,” she told him, smiling expectantly.
“Bless that woman and her cooking,” he swooned and patted his stomach. “I’ve got a few years of missed dinners to make up for, you know.” He had been using that same excuse for almost a year. The day he finished his service in the Navy, he went straight to her mother’s kitchen, sea-bag still in hand. “You’re up,” he said as her bus stop approached.
It was still so clear in her mind. She could see him climbing to his feet. She remembered ducking down a little in her seat so that he could stretch over her and pull the cord. She could still smell his cologne. She could hear the chime echo over the bus loudspeaker acknowledging his signal that someone needed to exit at her stop. She heard the hiss of the brakes, felt the bus jostle as it slowed, saw him handing her back-pack over to her once he walked her to the rear stairs.
“See ya in a few, little blue,” he said with a warm smile as he tousled her hair. “And hey, do me a favor, tough-stuff – try not to get into any more trouble until at least then, k?”
“K,” she agreed and hopped down the steps to the street. She turned to watch the bus pull away, laughing and rolling her eyes when he stuck his tongue out at her.
She realized that this memory of him, of planning post-dinner roughhousing and speaking without a care in the world, was of the last few moments of her childhood.
Darkness Descends: A Skye Faden Novel Page 43