Dark Truth

by Lora Andrews

EWEN TOOK Caitlin’s hand and led her out to the cloister. Constructed from the same red granite as the abbey and cathedral, the covered walk with its arches and sloped roof wrapped the length of each existing building and formed four walks with a square, green lawn at its center. Several monks passed them in pairs heading to the door of the cathedral.

  Caitlin hadn’t been able to fit a tour of the abbey into her itinerary last year. Three miles long and a mile and a half wide, the island, labeled the “Cradle of Christianity,” drew hundreds of thousands of pilgrims to its shores. She’d opted to spend another day in Kilfinan in hopes of meeting Janet. Besides, the long trek to Mull via several bus rides and ferries to reach The Isle of the Druids had been unappealing.

  Funny how she now found herself surrounded by magic-wielding monks, mythological creatures, and a Celtic goddess inside the same building where the Book of Kells—four brightly illustrated gospels and probably the oldest book in modern times—was created.

  Coincidence?

  Probably not.

  Caitlin rubbed her eyes. She was sinking deeper and deeper into the rabbit hole, but unlike Alice, no tonic or special cake would save her.

  “How much of your past have you recalled?” Ewen asked her point blank.

  They passed the corridor leading to Ian’s room. “I think most of it, but there’s no way to know for sure. Two Fomorians attacked me a couple months ago and…” There’d been another attempt earlier, but when?

  Sophomore year?

  Caitlin pushed through the hammering fists at her temple. “I was sixteen the first time someone tried to kill me. We were forced off the road.” She squeezed her eyes against the memory of the haunting screams. Lila’s broken body. Twisted metal. And blood.

  So much blood.

  It was a wonder she didn’t curl into a ball at the sight of anything red and iron-scented.

  “The men in the other car had been human. The monks called them Vertendi, a fancy word for Bres’s human followers, aka, The Order. That was the first time Abbot Robert healed me. I think.” Caitlin pressed her fingers over her eyes. This whole situation was so fucked up. “And the griffin starred in most of my nightmares. I can’t believe he’s real. That it’s all real.”

  “Aye, that it is.” Ewen stopped and leaned a shoulder against one of the stone supports and looked out to the grass.

  “What are we going to do? Bres has the cauldron and three Norns. This isn’t good for the Resistance.”

  “Ah, we’ve a name, now, have we?” Ewen grinned, and despite the sadness weighing on him, the smile reached his eyes, creating all kinds of havoc in her stomach. “You’re forgetting our face-shifting enemy ran from battle injured.” He raised two fingers. “Bres may no’ have access to the full power of his witches. Did ye forget one of them had to be carried through the portal thanks to your heroic efforts?”

  “I guess I’ve turned into a glass half-empty kind of girl. Who knew?”

  His expression grew serious. “We’ll have to determine our numbers. Our winged friends are powerful creatures.” He gave her a sideways glance, then his mouth formed that crooked half-smile of his that was part fierce, part vulnerable, and all Ewen. It tugged every bloody heartstring. “Did ye think I’d shy away from commanding the goddess and her troops?”

  This Ewen was completely in his element, and it was sexy as hell.

  He eased off the support, and suddenly the space between them disappeared into a vacuum. “Convincing the abbot to release his forces will be a bit like carding wool, but his small band of warrior monks are well-trained and invaluable to our task. Our biggest challenge lays in discovering where Bres has fled.”

  “Wow. You’re pretty calm for someone who just discovered his grandfather—”

  “Is a dragon?” Ewen scrubbed a hand over his face. “If ye keep reminding me, lass, I may not be for much longer.”

  She blushed. “Sorry.”

  Ewen cocked his head, gaze sharpening. “You knew.”

  And there it was. The truth. It always came back to bite her in the ass.

  “I should have told you yesterday. I just didn’t have the heart to say the words. In my time, you struggled with the knowledge. MacInnes injected a virus into your body.” She ran a hand through her knotted hair. Her fingers caught in the ends. “It’s like a poison. You almost died. We thought the virus triggered your change. There was no way of knowing about your mother’s lineage.”

  “I transformed from man to beast?” He turned away from her, but not before she saw the disgust in his face.

  “Hey.” She grabbed his arm and shielded herself from his feelings. “Don’t do that. Don’t beat yourself up. You are the strongest person I know. When the change came over you, you feared it would take over your mind. You”—she touched his chest—“you never lost control, and you didn’t let the dragon control you either.”

  The vee between his brows deepened.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

  He nodded and averted his eyes. After a brief pause, he asked, “Is there more? More you haven’t told me?” His voice was rough.

  She released his arm. The slate floor couldn’t hold her attention. God, where did she start. “We, um, we…” Caitlin blew out a breath.

  “You needn’t speak of it until you’re ready, lass. I willna force you.”

  “I know.” Hadn’t she learned her lesson? Life was precious. Every minute with someone you loved was a gift. Wasting time worrying about whether or not he would reciprocate her feelings detracted from the time they’d shared. She would not live her life hiding from pain or rejection. She’d proven she was strong enough to handle life’s twists and turns without crumbling. This was just another volley.

  “I fell in love with you.” There. She’d said it. She hugged herself. “I don’t know if you felt the same, but you might have.” Her next words could change everything. “I don’t want what I’m about to say to change things between us or to make you feel obligated to Future You’s decisions. Promise me, Ewen.”

  He narrowed his eyes. She knew he didn’t like making promises without have all the facts, but it couldn’t be helped. Not for what she was about to tell him.

  “You’ve my word,” he finally said.

  His consent didn’t settle her heart or make her tongue any less sandpapery. “We were intimate. Your dragon bonded with me. I don’t know the full extent of what it means, but Bres was able to use that bond against you. I don’t want it to influence how you feel. I love you. The you I met then. The you I know today. I don’t need anything from you in return.”

  He took another step closer. “Is that what ye want?’

  Caitlin backed up and rubbed the chill from her arms. “The logical part of me says yes because the alternative complicates our situation. I don’t even know anymore what role I’m supposed to play in this whole thing with the gods and Bres. Was I sent back to kill him? And if so, what happens to Fionn and his curse? I feel like everything hinges on Bres dying now. You live. My family lives. With Bres dead, they aren’t forced to flee Scotland in fear. Brigid doesn’t send you to save me in the future. Maybe Simon gets counseling and grows up to be a stable human being instead of the monster I know. The cycle stops.”

  She shrugged and walked over to the shadows lining the shared inner wall of the cloister. A pair of monks exited the cathedral. Ewen watched them leave.

  Caitlin lowered her voice. “But, what if I’m the trigger? I came from the twenty-first century, which means Bres survives whatever we throw at him. If you believe in a predestination paradox, then maybe I’m what causes the events of the future to occur. Like a temporal loop. The more I try to change what happens to you and my family, the harder destiny works to ensure everything turns out the same way.”

  She covered her face, blew out a breath, then ran her hands through her messy hair. “The insanity doesn’t end there. Fionn hypothesized that the Fomorians who attacked me were from the future. They’re trying to stop me from doing
something. So I’m constantly wrestling with which path to take. Do I stay here and fight? Or do I try to find a way to go back and face Bres alone? Maybe it doesn’t matter.” She flattened her back against the wall for support. “All I know with any certainty is that I can’t stand by and watch you die all over again.”

  Ewen slid his palm up the side of her face. He leaned in, his breath brushing her cheek. “I’m not dying, lass.” His gaze dropped to her mouth.

  Oh god. He was going to kiss her. “You can’t kiss me.”

  “I canna?”

  Shut. Up. Reed. “You’re betrothed.”

  To someone not me.

  His hand moved from her face to play with her tangled hair. A sexy smile tugged the corners of his mouth. He dragged his blue gaze back to her eyes. “You are mistaken.”

  Her breath caught. “I am?”

  Well hot damn. That was the best piece of news she didn’t know what to do with.

  “Aye, you are.” He braced his left hand on the wall beside her ear. His chest was one heave away from touching her breasts. “Do you want me to kiss you?”

  Caitlin’s heart skipped and line-danced its way south. She swallowed. “Is this a trick question?”

  “’Twould no’ be proper to kiss ye without courting you, lass. But I’ve been known to bend the rules.” He winked.

  What a tease. She bit her bottom lip, happiness bubbling its way into the corners of her mouth. His scent squashed the remnants of her common sense. She threw her arms around his neck. “I’m past courting,” she said, breathless.

  A throat cleared.

  Ewen groaned and reluctantly removed her hands, stepping back a proper distance, his eyes heated and locked to hers.

  Her lady parts threw a hissy fit. Someone was about to die.

  “War Master, there is something you must to see.” Ailbeart did his darndest to avoid looking directly at Caitlin.

  “This best be urgent, Ailbeart,” Ewen warned.

  “Oh, it is. The merfolk have returned. They’re asking for you.”

  TWENTY-TWO

  A CHEST and a mountain of weapons were laid out on the white sandy beach like a peace offering.

  Caitlin’s jaw dropped. The hilt of Faolan’s sword was visible from between two axe handles and a broadsword. “Ewen, that’s our stuff.”

  Ewen didn’t nod or drag his eyes away from the merpeople standing tentatively on the shore. His expression was thoughtful. Calm. Those intense blue eyes gave no hint to the battle plans running in his head. Plans A, B, or C were probably ready to roll at the first sign of trouble. The merpeople would have no clue what hit them. Always prepared and ready to defend, her Highlander was a force to be reckoned with.

  Hers.

  Oh, yeah. After that almost kiss, she was done for. Lock, stock, and barrel. Denial had left the building, and Acceptance was sliding into the driver’s seat.

  The merman waved his webbed hand over the bounty he and his two mermaids had fished from the bottom of Loche Linnhe. Caitlin was ninety-nine percent sure these were the same three beings who had warned them of the danger on Lismore.

  Ailbeart and Eiric flanked Ewen, muscles tensing beneath their clean linen tunics. They’d changed out of their wet clothes. Lucky bastards. She couldn’t wait to get out of her mangled gown. Caitlin scratched a spot over her shoulder where the damp fabric irritated her skin. They’d gone directly from saving Ian to dealing with the abbot, Brigid, and the fallout from Ewen’s paternity. God, she was tired.

  “Minun nheulu,” the merman said.

  “What did he say?” Ewen asked without taking his eyes off the creature.

  “My family.” The two females remained a safe distance behind him. Daughters? Wife and daughter? Caitlin wondered who they were.

  The merman cocked his head and dragged his gaze from Ewen’s mouth to Caitlin. When he next spoke, he was looking directly at her. “Tha sinn söker cynghrain com Peloton”

  “They’re intelligent,” Lachlan whispered to Ewen. He stood shoulder to shoulder with his son to the left. “See how he’s already modified his behavior based on your interaction with the lass. He knows ye trust her. He stands before you, but speaks to her. Not the goddess.” Lachlan looked over his shoulder to Brigid. “Nor her guardians.”

  Caitlin hadn’t noticed Lachlan’s arrival. The abbot, Brother Rupert, and two other monks stood directly behind them, watching from the safety of the lawn. Fionn approached and came to a stop beside his sister, while Dyn, the griffin, and Ewen’s grandfather stood several feet to Lachlan’s left, yet close enough to act.

  Oh, boy. Everyone had gathered to watch the show.

  “Tha sinn söker cynghrain com Peloton,” the merman said again.

  “He seeks an alliance with the Fearless One. I think that’s you,” she told Ewen.

  Ewen’s eyebrow shot up, and then he frowned. “Are ye sure, lass?

  She shrugged. “Who else could it be?” No one else fit the bill. She pointed to Ewen. “Peloton? Com ele?”

  The merman inclined his head.

  “Yep, it’s you,” she said with a laugh. “Peloton. It’s got a nice ring to it. Lord Peloton.”

  Ewen growled “lass” under his breath.

  She bit back her giggle. She could have a lot of fun making Lord Peloton blush.

  “We wish peace. Honorable work. A place to call home,” the merman said in Neridian.

  His words were sobering. He asked for what they all wanted. What every creature, human or supernatural, deserved to have. Dignity.

  She relayed the blue man’s request to Ewen.

  “Can we trust him?” he asked her.

  “I don’t know. It’s hard to say.” But she knew one way to find out for sure. Caitlin stepped forward.

  Ewen grabbed her arm. “Nay. What are you thinking?”

  “I’ve spent my whole life fighting this gift I was born with. Today, I am going to put it to good use. Trust me.” She smiled.

  His gaze darted to the blue man and then back to her before he let her go. “Be careful.”

  Caitlin bounced on her tippy toes and kissed his cheek, startling him. “I will. And thank you.”

  He gave her a tight smile.

  She sucked in a breath and walked the few feet to the edge of the beach where the merman stood with his family. Quietly, she extended her hand, palm side up, her pulse beating in her ears. This mythical being could crush her skull with one slam of his head. He could attempt to drag her into the sea, but she’d bet Ewen’s dagger would pierce his throat before he’d managed to get her feet wet. Still, the danger was real. She tried to control the shaking of her hand as she extended her open palm out to him.

  And waited.

  The merman peered at her hand, somewhat perplexed before looking to his left and then his right. The females each nodded, prodding him with the jerking of their chins. He didn’t seem too eager to touch her either. She couldn’t blame him.

  Caitlin smiled. “I mean you no harm.”

  Slowly, he placed his large, webbed hand over hers.

  I can do this.

  She blew out a quick breath and lowered her shields.

  The merman’s emotions rolled over her like an avalanche, hitting her hard, disorientating her senses with a blast of feeling. Strong. Pungent. Desperate. Flashes of memory hit. The prison. Their life trapped behind magical bars. The Draconians had treated them with respect despite their incarceration. It was the others, their own kind, who had ostracized and abused them. The pod who had attacked the birlinn and sided with Balor.

  Who’s Balor?

  Orhavet, that was the merman’s name, and his daughters broke away from their people when they’d escaped yesterday. But they were lost and alone, fearing war in a world they no longer recognized. In Ewen they saw freedom. But there was fear, too. They were taking a chance trusting humans, but there was something about Ewen they trusted more than their fear.

  Something that pushed them to follow. To reach out. To believe.
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br />   Caitlin sent a pulse of reassurance. They weren’t wrong to trust Ewen.

  The merman’s eyes popped opened, and in the next breath, a cacophony of emotions flooded her system. Too much. Too soon. Too fast. She stepped back and bumped into a hard chest that could only belong to one man.

  Ewen.

  He gripped her arms to steady her.

  “I’m okay. I just wasn’t prepared, that’s all. Their native tongue is rich and extremely sensory, which makes it difficult for him to communicate in a simple language like Neridian. When he opened his mind, I freaked out a little.” She smiled at Orhavet, who was staring at her like a freak show exhibit.

  She squeezed Ewen’s hand to ease the tension she felt in his body. “They’re desperate. They have nowhere to go. They refused to align with the other pod who attacked us. Those guys are definitely fighting for the wrong side. They’re loyal to someone named Balor who is allied with Bres. Orhavet and his daughters, Kära and Älskade—don’t ask me who’s who because I have no clue—fear this Balor. They’re looking for a place to belong. They long to be part of something again. A clan.” She looked up at Ewen. “They need to be part of a clan.”

  Ewen made a hmm sound in his throat. “Stay here.”

  Dyn and Braern moved to the sidelines. Fionn came to stand on Caitlin’s right side.

  Taking slow and even steps, Ewen faced the merman. He withdrew his dagger from its sheath. The women visibly tensed. Ewen displayed the dagger like a mime, exaggerating each movement before lowering the tip to his right palm. He sliced then flipped the dagger so the hilt faced the merman.

  Caitlin shot Fionn a what-the-hell-is-he-doing look, but the assassin was too engrossed in Ewen’s interaction with the merman to notice her distress.

  The blue man eyed the blood oozing on Ewen’s palm. He took the dagger by the handle Ewen offered and mirrored a similar cut across his hand. Then he covered Ewen’s hand with his own. A wrinkle of confusion marred his brow. He looked from Ewen to Caitlin, the question clear on his face.

  “Tell him he no longer needs to roam,” Ewen said. “Tell him they are welcome here. I offer them my protection, and I seal my bond with my blood.”