Lorehnin: A Novel of the Otherworld

by Johnson, Jenna Elizabeth

  Before my thoughts could run away with me, Devlin lunged to the side, either trying to avoid whatever it was he saw or trying to surprise it, I couldn’t tell for sure. Some force slammed into him though, because he was pushed back toward the street, almost tripping over the edge of the sidewalk. I covered my mouth, trying not to scream. It really sucked that I couldn’t see what was after him, but then again, maybe that was a blessing in disguise. When I braved another glance out the window, Devlin was sprinting toward the end of the road, half-turned around so he could yell something over his shoulder. I had no idea what he had said, but I assumed it was something to entice the creature to follow.

  When Devlin disappeared down the slope into the creek, I was really tempted to leave the house. I began drumming my fingers on the window sill as I waited. Thirty seconds later, a shout of pain made up my mind.

  “Devlin!” I cried, shooting off the futon and flying toward my door. It took forever to get the deadbolt to turn. Flinging the door open, I ran out into the cold night, turning left after bursting through the gap in the fence as I sprinted toward the edge of the trees.

  Sounds of a struggle drifted up from the creek below, and then a bone-chilling bay split the night air. I fell into a crouch and covered my ears. It reminded me of a werewolf out of some twisted fairy tale, come to rip the hearts out of every human it came across. In the next breath, the horrible sound was cut short, only to be replaced by an angry yelp, then silence.

  Working up my nerve, I regained my feet and crept to the edge of the slope. Not too far below, the homeless camp was painted in pools of shadow, the weak lights decorating the bridge above offering little help in cutting away the darkness. Out of the corner of my eye, something stirred. I narrowed my gaze, trying to make out what it was. On a sandy strip of land, the low point of the canyon where the creek made a wide turn, Devlin crouched. In one hand he held the sword he’d had with him the night the Noctyrnum cornered me. His other hand was pressed to his right shoulder. A pool of light shone beside him and as I studied the scene, something large and dark emerged from the gloom. I rubbed my eyes, wondering if my state of exhaustion and the adrenaline rush from my panicked run had affected my brain. Gradually, the black shape became more solid and I had to press my hands to my mouth to keep from screaming in horror. Something of substance had just manifested on that shallow creek bank.

  Devlin, who had been supporting most of his weight on one bent knee, pushed his sword into the ground to brace himself as he tried to stand. He staggered, his foot catching on a root, and he went down, his sword falling to the side as his hands splaying out to catch himself. I rushed forward, making my way down the rocky path as quickly as I could without falling flat on my face. Once I hit even ground I sprinted to his side.

  “Devlin! Are you alright?”

  I tried to reach out and take his elbow. Not that I’d be able to lift him. He was easily twice my weight. As soon as I touched his arm, he hissed and jerked it away from me. I mirrored him, yanking my hand back as if an angry alligator had tried to snap it off.

  “I told you to stay inside,” he growled through clenched teeth. “What if I hadn’t been able to kill it?”

  He lifted his head then, his blond hair cloaking the left side of his face, one fierce blue eye regarding me with some dark emotion I couldn’t name. His harsh gaze shot through me like an arrow, piercing the fragile bubble of trust I’d extended to him. Stepping backward, I crossed my arms and did my best to look unaffected by his irritation.

  “I’m sorry,” I managed with some vitriol. “I saw you come down here, and it sounded like you needed help.”

  “That thing,” Devlin said, jerking his head toward the grotesque lump of dead flesh, “is a faelah, a Cumorrig. It’s an Otherworldly beast that was created by the Morrigan. Had it decided to go after you, it would have torn you to pieces.”

  I swallowed hard and felt my false bravado deflate ever so slightly. And that’s why I came down here, to see if you needed help you big dummy! I wanted to shout at him. Unfortunately, that scene from Lopez Lake was playing in my mind like a news ticker scrolling across the bottom of a TV screen.

  Devlin sighed and slowly pushed himself to his feet. He grimaced and clutched his shoulder again, his bloodied sword dragging in the sand.

  Desperate to forget about my impulsive rush to his aid and his annoyance, I took a breath and said, “Where did you get the sword?”

  He limped forward a few steps before answering me. “I had it hidden down here. That’s why I drew the Cumorrig away from your house. I knew I couldn’t kill it with my bare hands.”

  Feeling the need to lighten the mood, I smiled and added, “I don’t see why not. You scared those Noctyrnum off the other day with only a few words.”

  Devlin stilled, and I was afraid I’d said something wrong. “What’s the matter?”

  “If that Cumorrig is here, then the person I hunt may have more power than I previously thought.”

  That sounded bad. “How so?”

  Devlin stopped just before the trail started climbing the hillside. He placed his hands loosely on his hips and rocked back, sucking in a breath as he did so. I wondered how badly hurt he was and if he’d be able to make it back up to the house.

  “The Cumorrig were the Morrigan’s special hounds, her servants. Most of them were destroyed when she was, but some of them managed to survive. They are very dangerous and very hard to control. Either the faelah was attracted to its master’s familiar magic, or the man I hunt is guiding it. Whatever the case, he has gathered enough of the Morrigan’s glamour to garner the attention of her most loyal servants.”

  I did not like the sound of that, especially since all these Otherworldly things had decided to hang out in my neighborhood. Oh well. Perhaps it was all one big coincidence. Yeah, and cats loved to play in the water.

  “I may need some help climbing up,” Devlin grumbled grudgingly.

  Good. Maybe he was done being mad at me. Slapping on my brightest smile, I said, “No problem. I think I’m just the right height to act as a crutch for you.”

  After a few minutes of struggling, one near-slip and an attack from a wayward branch, we both came out onto the street, a little scratched up but all in one piece.

  “Where are you hurt?” I asked.

  Devlin sighed. “The Cumorrig managed to get in two bites: one on my shoulder, the other just above my knee.”

  Dog bites, from what I'd heard, were bad enough, but bites from the Morrigan’s evil hound? Probably a lot worse.

  “Come on,” I said, grabbing Devlin’s hand and pulling him toward my apartment. “I have peroxide and some antibiotic ointment with your name on them.”

  To my great relief, Devlin didn’t fight me as I opened my door and nudged him inside. Fortunately, my apartment was relatively clean. Unfortunately, it didn’t seem big enough to fit Devlin. He had to duck his head to get through the low door and, once inside, he seemed to fill the space like a small sun.

  “Sit there on the edge of my futon.”

  I pointed toward the makeshift couch and slipped into the bathroom. I pulled out the brown bottle of hydrogen peroxide, some cotton balls, a spare towel and the ointment.

  When I came back into the living room, Devlin was sitting with his elbows on his knees, his fingers laced. From his drawn face, I could tell the bite wounds hurt, but he was doing his best to hide it. After switching on all the lights, I pulled up a chair and dumped the supplies on my desk.

  “Okay, let’s see the damage.”

  Without even questioning my expertise as a medical specialist, Devlin grabbed the hem of his sweater and pulled it off, undershirt and all, rolling the garments into a ball and dropping them onto the floor. I nearly fell off my chair. All of my ridiculous imaginings about what lay hidden under his clothing were shot right out of the water. That broad chest and golden skin stretched tautly over lean muscle was the full color edition compared to the black-and-white representation I’d pictured in
my mind. Beautiful tattoos, similar to the one on his arm and peacock blue in color, decorated his shoulder and lower abdomen on one side. I blinked when I thought the pattern shimmered, but brushed it aside as just an illusion due to my overwrought senses. Scars, old and new, crisscrossed his skin, the largest being four long, jagged lines on his left side.

  “The worst of it is on my back,” Devlin said, indicating his right shoulder.

  Oh, yeah. I was supposed to be tending to his injuries. I picked up my chair and placed it behind him, then sat down and continued my perusal. My eyes drifted upward and fell upon the angry bite marks on his shoulder. Frowning, I tried to distract myself by admiring the otherwise perfect skin before me. Man, he had an attractive back. Immediately I gave myself a mental kick to the face. Come on Robyn, guys don’t have attractive backs. Attractive backsides, yes, but not attractive backs. I glanced at him again. Nope. According to my eyes the long expanse of skin ranging from the nape of his neck to his hips could be easily classified as drool-worthy. Huh. Who would have thought?

  Without my consent, my fingers stretched forward, grazing his skin. It was smooth and warm, just as I imagined it. Devlin became unnaturally still under my touch. Great. He probably thought I was taking advantage of the situation.

  Getting over my deer-in-the-headlights daze real quickly, I opened my mouth and said, “You’ve had some history with violence, haven’t you?”

  He shrugged, my hand traveling with the movement.

  “No more than most living in Eile.”

  That made me think about Meghan. I hoped she wasn’t getting attacked by the terrible creatures of the Otherworld on a daily basis. Then I remembered that she didn’t have to live in the Otherworld for that little perk. They’d come after her when she lived with her human family in Arroyo Grande.

  Devlin’s voice soon broke me free of my internal musings. “You may do what you can, but these injuries need to heal in Eile,” he said, glancing over his shoulder.

  I blinked up at him. Huh? What had he said?

  Devlin noticed my stupor, but, thank the gods, he didn’t seem to realize it was because I was too busy mooning over his half-naked form.

  “The natural magic of Eile will help me heal much faster.”

  Oh. Got it. Time to help the poor guy out instead of becoming a nuisance.

  “Well, at least let me get it cleaned up,” I offered with fervor.

  Devlin’s eyes drooped and he began to list to the side.

  “Oh no! Don’t pass out on me!” I said, jumping up from my chair and grabbing the arm closest to me. The motion was too much because Devlin swayed in my direction, pressing up against me so we were forced into an awkward hug.

  My cheek ended up pressed against his uninjured shoulder, his lovely skin heating my senses. I took a breath, inhaling his scent, and some primitive longing deep inside of me sparked to life. There was something wonderfully familiar and comforting about that smell. It made me think of frost-encrusted valleys on a crisp, autumn morning and the woods after a summer rain. I was so tempted to wrap my arms around him and just fall asleep right then and there. Unfortunately, Devlin didn't agree with me.

  “I’m sorry, Robyn,” he murmured, gently putting his hands on my shoulders and extracting himself from me. Instantly, I felt cold again.

  “Not your fault,” I grumbled, fiddling with my hair as my cheeks burned with embarrassment.

  Ready to move on from the awkward moment, I returned to my chair. From my desktop, I grabbed the bottle of peroxide and the towel.

  “Now, if you could just stay upright for a few more minutes.”

  Devlin glanced over his shoulder, a small smile playing across his lips.

  “Could you turn a little to the right?” I asked.

  My patient nodded, then twisted his torso so his injured shoulder fell into the brightest patch of light. I nearly dropped the bottle onto the floor. Up close and in better light, the wound looked even worse. Several puncture marks riddled his shoulder, a few of them deeper than the rest. Thick, dark blood trickled from three of them and I could already see evidence of swelling. I swallowed hard. No wonder he was dancing on the edge of consciousness.

  “This might sting a little, so brace yourself,” I warned as I unscrewed the lid. “Okay, here goes.”

  Tilting the bottle, I poured a substantial portion over the injured area.

  The clear liquid hissed and bubbled, and I did my best to catch it all with the towel. Devlin didn’t even twitch. Twice more I doused the area, cleaning up the blood with cotton balls.

  “That will have to do for now,” I said. “I hope I've at least managed to clean out the dirt.”

  He turned and nodded.

  “So, you said it bit you somewhere else?”

  “Yes, on my leg.”

  Devlin stood and I felt my eyebrows crinkle in slight confusion. When he reached up and started to unbuckle his belt, I bolted upright.

  “You don’t have to take your pants off!” I blurted.

  Devlin paused and eyed me as if I’d just started babbling in some foreign language. And there went the blushing again. Wonderful, Robyn. Way to stay even-keeled with your patient.

  “Please, sit back down. Maybe you can just roll your pant leg up?”

  Without another word, Devlin complied, the denim barely fitting over the top of his knee. Thank goodness he hadn’t dropped his pants, I might just have passed out from sensory overload had he done so. His leg was just as toned and perfect as his torso, and I resisted every temptation to touch him more than necessary. I repeated my technique with the peroxide, pouring it over the wound and catching the runoff. Fortunately, the bite on his leg wasn’t as bad as the one on his back. When we were finished, Devlin rolled his pant leg back down and picked up his shirt. He stood up and wavered a little before trying to take a step.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  Devlin reached out and gently brushed his fingers along my jaw line. I froze, trying to fight the shiver that ran through my blood. Did he realize how intimate touching me like that was? Maybe it was a normal, everyday gesture in the Otherworld.

  “Thank you, Robyn, for your help, but I must return to Eile if I wish to heal anytime soon.”

  I grabbed his hand and lowered it, not because I didn't enjoy his touch, but because I didn’t think it was a good idea for him to go for a long hike right now and I needed all my wits about me if I was to successfully argue my point. Surely he could spend one night in the mortal world?

  “Devlin, you said the passageway back into the Otherworld is near the Reservoir Canyon Trail. That’s miles away, and you can hardly walk without falling over. Why don’t you stay here tonight, get some rest, and then leave in the morning? I could even drive you if you want.”

  I still had my old car from high school, which I only used for grocery shopping and trips out of San Luis, but I was on the edge of exhaustion myself and the idea of going back outside after what had happened wasn’t a very welcome thought.

  I glanced behind him. My futon would be big enough. If I folded it out flat and maybe shoved a table against one end.

  For a few moments I thought he was going to say no, but then he ducked his head in concurrence and let out a deep sigh.

  “I would appreciate the hospitality,” he murmured.

  Feeling suddenly cheerful, I got to my feet, clapped my hands together and said, “All right, how about some tea then? I’ve been known to keep only the best.”

  Devlin looked up and gave me a lazy smile. “Tea would be most welcome.”

  While we waited for the pot to boil, Devlin and I worked together to pull the futon flat and gather what he needed for the night. Being the destitute college student that I was, I didn't have much, but there was an extra pillow on my bed and an old quilt I kept folded in the corner.

  When I handed them to Devlin his face grew concerned.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  “I don’t want you to get cold.”


  I glanced at the quilt he clutched in his hand. I only ever added it to my own bed in the winter when the nights were especially chilly.

  “Oh, no, I won’t get cold. That’s why it was folded in the corner.”

  Giving Devlin my best smile, I headed into my tiny kitchen to attend to the screaming tea kettle. While the tea steeped, I excused myself and took a shower, the whole time thinking of Devlin sitting in my living room, naked from the waist up. Since I was alone, I let my mind wander, picturing him standing beside me, the spray of the shower running through his blond hair and down the planes of his body.

  That’s enough, Robyn, my conscience snapped. If you allow your thoughts to get any lewder you won’t be able to face the man again without turning into a giddy school girl.

  Once I was dry and properly dressed in my least revealing pajamas, I re-emerged from the bathroom to join Devlin in the living room. He was sitting on the futon, his legs outstretched in front of him and his back pressed against the wall with his head tilted downward. At first I thought he was asleep, but as I approached, he lifted his chin and looked at me with tired eyes.

  “Hungry?” I asked, giving him a weak smile.

  Devlin returned my grin and nodded his head lazily.

  I disappeared into the kitchen and whipped up some tomato soup and a couple of grilled cheese sandwiches. Devlin was still leaning against the wall when I returned, but he became much more alert when I offered him a plate with a sandwich and a mug of soup.

  “Thank you,” he murmured. “Usually my brother is the one offering me food. He’s a much better cook than me.”

  His eyes grew sad for a moment, so I encouraged him to keep talking. “How many brothers do you have?”

  “Just Rhyne,” he answered. “Our mother died when we were young and our father was never around, so the two of us were left to raise ourselves.”