by Hazel Hunter
I took her to the pond, and kept my trews on as I waded out. I heard her shedding her garments, but kept my back to her. If she wished me to look she’d show herself to me. I ducked under the water to scrub the soot from my hair, and then surfaced to see Roxanne swimming toward me.
“This is amazing.” She held out her hands. “Don’t be shy. I won’t hurt you.”
“I’m no’ an immortal, nor druid kind,” I reminded her. “My life, ’tis the only one I’ll live. You cannae desire a mortal mate.”
“I want you. I want kids, too.” She hauled herself up my chest as if she meant to kiss me, and then the joy fled from her expression. “Crap.”
Roxanne seized me, and threw me out of the pond. I landed with a painful thud on my arse, and when I looked over at her she had another of me in her strong arms. Only that Smith had bared jagged teeth that he snapped an inch away from her face.
I flung myself into the water and swam for the pair, reaching them just as Roxanne cried out. The calpa had shifted into its natural form, that of a huge black horse, and had latched onto my lass’s shoulder. I grabbed the monster’s mane and wrenched its head back. When I saw what it had done to her I roared my fury and snapped its neck.
“Roxanne.”
I dragged the lass out and carried her up to the bank. The deep, ugly wound on her shoulder made me furious as I tore my shirt into a bandage for her.
“We need to tell the laird,” Roxanne said. “He doesn’t know they’re using the springs now, too.”
It unmanned me to realize she could bleed to death, and be lost to me forever. “Dinnae die on me, lass.”
“I don’t want to.” She touched my face. “If I can’t have you, I don’t want to come back.”
“Fack eternity,” I told her. “We’ll love now, and leave forever to the Gods.”
And that is what we joyfully did.
Chapter 11
Wild Horses
I didn’t know anything about the Highland Angels and the McGillean. No one asked me if I wanted to live in fourteenth-century Scotland. I just happened to be a passenger on their plane when it crashed into a time portal. I only took that trip so I could see the Royal Highland Show, and find out more about my heritage (orphan here). My Scottish blood had some druid mixed in, so I survived and jumped back in time.
Now I worked in the clan’s stables, the only place where I felt at home. All of the horses liked me, but it wasn’t as if they had a choice.
The clan had mostly destriers trained for battle, but also pack and plow horses to do the heavy farm work. The laird’s stablemaster, Conor, managed the herd, but each clansman looked after his own horse. What tack they had to speak of was simple but kept in good repair. The one thing they didn’t have was an equine vet, and while I wasn’t fully qualified, I was still better than nothing.
“Your alpha is a water hog,” I told Conor as I finished mucking out the last of the stalls that morning. “She keeps trying to get out to the loch. She’s carrying twins, too.”
The stablemaster, who was big, broad, and bad-tempered with everyone including me, scowled. “Dinnae jest on that, Jaime.”
I loved it when he used my name. No matter what mood Conor was in, he made it sound sexy, and intimate, like he was really saying I want to get you naked, girl.
“Take a look.” I led Conor back to the mare’s stall, and guided his hands around her swollen belly until he felt the two sacs. “I think they’re lodged in different horns in her uterus.” Touching her with him made me feel shy. “They’ll probably come early, too. Didn’t you check after you put her with the stallion?”
“I didnae breed her,” he admitted.
Horses aren’t designed to birth twins; they almost always lose one or both shortly after conception. Even if a young, healthy mare can carry them to term, they usually don’t survive delivery, which often kills the mother, too.
“What did you with twins in your time?” Conor asked as we left the stall.
“We called a theriogenologist to reduce the pregnancy.” Which I couldn’t do even if we were back in my time; the foals had already grown too large. I saw his expression and added, “We sacrificed one of the foals to save the other and the dam.”
His jaw tightened. “’Tis brutish, lass.”
“So is watching three horses die.” I went to the wash stand to clean up with him, and then got one of the pack horses out to hitch to the hay cart.
Conor rode with me to a neighboring farm that provided most of our hay. Out on the fringes of the pastures a herd of wild horses stood watching us. I’d seen them a few times, but it seemed like there were a lot more of them now. Their lead stallion was a huge black with fiery eyes.
“Fack me.” Conor jumped down from the cart and drew a dagger. “Drive back to Dun Dorchas, Jaime, and tell the lads we’ve trouble here.”
I saw the wild herd stampeding toward us, and got down and unhitched the plow horse before I mounted him.
“Give me your hand,” I told Conor, and when he gave me an exasperated look I glared back. “You’re immortal, not unbreakable. Come on.”
He swung up behind me, and I tugged on the reins, wheeling the mount about before letting him go. We broke into a fast run, and when I glanced back I saw the herd engulf the cart, which they smashed to pieces.
Conor tucked his arms around my waist as we galloped down the road. “Ride to the stables, and jump the fence at the back pen.”
“Are you insane? They’ll trample anyone in their way, and attack our herd,” I countered.
He pressed a kiss to the back of my neck. “I trust our powers.”
Our powers?
When we reached the castle, I jumped the pack horse into the pen behind the stables. Conor immediately jumped off and ran inside, leaving me to watch the wild horses galloping toward me. I did my druid thing, and they stopped a few feet from the pen.
I turned around to see the stable master leading our pregnant alpha out into the pen. “You are crazy.”
Conor walked the mare up to the fence, where the big stallion leading the wild herd walked up and nuzzled her. “Open the gate, lass, and use your power on the lead.”
I focused on the stallion as if he was the most beautiful horse I’d ever seen. He led the entire herd into the pen. I saw strange scars on their flanks, as if something had latched on with very sharp teeth. “Please tell me we didn’t just pen a herd of calpa.”
“Most are runaways,” he said as he closed and latched the fence. “The stallion, he’s been herding them.”
I watched the stallion nuzzle the alpha mare with all the affection of a smitten lover, and then I realized something else. “Conor, all of these horses are pregnant.”
“Aye.” He walked up and stroked the stallion’s neck. “You’re a good lad, eh? Mayhap but half calpa. I reckon you’ll help us fight them.”
“Not that I want to wreck your bromance,” I said, “but how are we going to care for these mares? And what will they birth?”
“When their time comes, they’ll tend to themselves. We’ll help if they’ve need.” He came and tucked his arm around me. “We’ll love whatever comes for us, lass. Just as we’ve done with each other.”
“I’m not all the way in love with you yet,” I lied. “Maybe you should sleep with me. That might decide things.”
Oh, boy, did it.
Chapter 12
Lace and Velvet
Being cheerleaders with druid blood has some perks. My squad and I survived a plane crash to join the immortal McGillean Clan in fourteenth-century Scotland. Lots of the girls had awesome powers now, too. I hadn’t developed one yet, but I hoped one morning I’d wake up and be like Wonder Woman.
Lately we’ve been dealing with water demon horse shifters called calpa. They’re emo cannibals—they turn into someone you love so they can eat you. Our stable masters recently caught a black stallion they think is half-calpa.
Ever since I first saw the big brute I felt hypnotized.
The horse gave her a disgusted snort and trotted back to the herd.
“Hey. Hey.” She poked me, hard. “No cap, Lace, you need to swerve. Or do you want that thing to eat your face? If he even notices–”
“Don’t go there,” I warned her.
“–you have one.” Deb glared at my chest. “Why am I saving you, anyway?”
I sighed. I didn’t have to wear a bra until college, and then…think Millie Booby Brown turns into Sofia Vergara overnight. Now I make everyone on the squad look flat-chested—even Coco, who is our Sofia Vergara. But my boobs make people think I’m stupid, which I’m not.
“I have this weird feeling about him,” I said. “It’s like he’s hiding something else. Besides the shark teeth, I mean.”
“So, tell K-pop, and stay away from it,” she said.
Deb made me go help unload the orchard carts. The golden-green pears wouldn’t be ripe for another week, but the rosy apples were ready for the cider press.
“Hang with us tonight,” Gayla said as we carried some baskets into the kitchens. “You need to find a boyfriend or girlfriend. Or a threesome. It’s really like a smorgasbord, and you’ve got major melons, girl.”
I scowled. “Leave me alone, will you?”
Up in my room I went to the window, which overlooked the pen with the wild horses. I’d been watching them every night, and the stallion watched me, too. He didn’t change shape or try any magic stuff, but I knew he wanted something. As soon as I glanced down he trotted over to look up.
“It can’t be my boobs,” I muttered. “But if it is, I’m not flashing you.”
The stallion’s front legs bent, and he ducked his head as if he were bowing to me.
I had to find out what that meant, so I slipped out of the castle. The stallion stood waiting for me by the fence, and stepped back as if he expected me to jump in.
Dying didn’t scare me. I was already living on stolen time.
I climbed the fence, and dropped down in front of him. This close I could see his eyes, and when I held out my hand he came to me.
“Hey, Velvet.” I got the name from stroking his neck, which felt like velvet-wrapped concrete. He dropped his head to rest it on my shoulder, his breath hot on my back. I could feel his thoughts flooding into mine, but he had no words, only emotions: Loneliness. Longing.
He couldn’t speak because no one had ever taught him how.
“Lass, let go the beast.” Behind me, the laird’s voice sounded tight. “I’ll lift you out.”
“It’s okay, my lord.” As arms came around me, I glanced back. “He’s not a monster.”
I took off my cloak and draped it around the tall, naked guy who now held me. He had long, shiny black hair, and very fair skin. His eyes were the palest shade of blue, and as soft as velvet. When he snarled at the laird he flashed very white, normal-looking teeth.
“Please don’t,” I said, hoping my tone would calm him. “I won’t let anyone hurt you.”
He drew back, and then took on a ruddy glow as he shifted into his stallion form.
“Gods blind me,” the McGillean muttered. “He’s no’ half-horse.”
“No.” I watched the shifter gallop away. “He’s half-druid.”
Coach Jennings didn’t want me to go back to the pen, but someone had to teach the halfling how to speak, and he wouldn’t shift for anyone but me.
“We don’t understand what this creature is, or how he came into being,” she told me. “He could attack you at any moment, Lacey. Kendric should handle this.”
Time to be a grown up and tell her.
“A couple months ago I was diagnosed with stage four Hodgkin’s lymphoma,” I said. “It had already spread to my liver and lungs. I was going to have chemo and stuff after we got back from Scotland, but the docs weren’t too hopeful. Then time-travel cured me.”
“Honey, I’m so sorry.” The coach rubbed her brow. “That’s not a reason to risk your life.”
“I want to live, and that’s why I came back, Coach, but the halfling…” I grimaced. “He’s part druid, and needs our help. This is how I pay back the sacred grove.”
She sighed. “All right, but I’m going with you so I can see this for myself.”
The halfling came as soon as we entered the pen. Coach Jennings stayed back as I walked up to him, and held out my hands. Just like before he put his big head on my shoulder, and then changed into the druid. This time he pressed his mouth to my temple, and the touch made me shiver.
Could it be love? Time would tell.
“Hey.” I brought his hand to my face. “Lacey. My name is Lacey.”
“Laaayessee.” He lifted my fingers to his chest. “Veh. Vehelhet.”
And that was the first word I taught him: the name we’d chosen for him. “Velvet. Your name is Velvet.”
Chapter 13
Dreamwalker
Besides avocados, chewing gum and tomatoes, do you know what fourteenth-century Scotland doesn’t have? Coffee. No coffee. At. All. The McGillean Clan drinks “brew” made out of herbs and flowers. It tastes like potpourri smells, but has no kick.
At breakfast I asked Coach if we could somehow sneak coffee into this century. I swore I wouldn’t tell anyone local so we wouldn’t screw up the Folger’s timeline or whatever.
“Coffee won’t even exist for another two hundred years.” She frowned. “What’s going on, Jessie?”
If I told her how much I’d been sleeping, she’d freak. “Just can’t wake up in the morning.”
“Andrea is riding over to see Kendric,” Coach said, and handed me a bowl of berry-topped oatmeal. “Why don’t you tag along? He might have a solution.”
I glanced at Doc Ivers, who had been splitting her time between Dun Dorchas and training at the druid settlement. “Okay.”
After the meal the doc and I went to the stables, where the only McGillean I didn’t like stood waiting. He scowled at me, too, making the swan tattoo on the left side of his face arch its wings.
No way was I riding with him. “Hey, Doc, I just remembered something I need to do. You and Birdbrain go on without me.”
“Sorley,” Andrea corrected gently, and then said to the big jerk, “War Master, thanks for escorting us.”
He nodded and helped her up on the smallest horse, and then turned to me. I breezed past him and swung up into the saddle myself, but he came after me.
“Don’t need help,” I said with my teeth clenched.
“You’re on my destrier, Mistress.” He grabbed me by the waist and plonked me on the other horse.
From there we rode to the big glen beyond the castle. Along the way Sorley chatted with the doc like they were BFFs. All I got were the usual nasty looks, but the war master and I had hated each other at first sight. Then a herd of deer burst out of the woods, spooking the doc’s mare, which shot off toward a cliff. Sorley shouted as I went after her.
Andrea gave me a terrified look as I came alongside her mare. I slung an arm around her and yanked her across my saddle, reining in my mount at the same time. The war master rode directly into the doc’s horse, forcing it to veer away from the cliff. He chased her to a safe distance while I eased Andrea down on her feet.
“Didnae you hear me, you daft twit?” Sorley demanded as he led the mare back to us, and swung off his destrier.
“You mean over the sounds of the stampeding deer?” I dismounted and walked right up to him. “No, you moron, I didn’t.”
Andrea held up her hands. “I’m okay, guys. Stop fighting.”
“I didn’t start it.” I rammed my finger into the center of Sorley’s tunic. “Birdbrain did.”
The war master grabbed my hand, and then we both froze as the sunlight vanished and we stood under the stars. I looked down at the shift I wore for sleeping, and Sorley
did the same to the only thing he was wearing, a pair of really old trousers.
“Jess, love.” He caught my face between his hands and kissed me. “Thank the Gods, we’re asleep again.”
That was the bizarre thing: when we were awake we hated each other, but it was a whole different thing in our dreams. Every night we met, and fell even deeper in love—but woke up as strangers.
“I hope I never wake up again.” I threw my arms around him. “How can we stop forgetting this?”
“Mayhap one of the druids shall see us.” He took my hand, and we walked toward the settlement.
The little village was dead quiet, and in every cottage we checked we found all the druids asleep. We didn’t want to leave each other, so we stayed there, and talked about how to solve our impossible problem.
Okay, and we got busy, too. Super busy. What? We were in love.
Many wonderful, sexy nights passed, until two glowing figures appeared and called to us.
“It’s K-pop and the doc,” I told Sorley.
Kendric and Andrea stopped a short distance from us, and the druid headman said, “Jessica, Sorley, you’ve been dreamwalking together for nigh on a week now.”
“We can’t wake you up,” the doc added. “You’ve got to come back to us, or you’ll starve to death.”
I never felt hungry in my dreams, but then I never ate, either. “Why does this keep happening to us?”
“You wish to love, Sister.”
A third figure limped toward us, leaning heavily on his cane. Only when I met his dark eyes did I recognize him as Bhaltair Flen—aka the most important druid on the planet.
“You’ll ken no peace until you awaken your spirits,” the old druid said, and turned to Sorley. “Your hearts chose each other. Since you willnae see thus awake, the swan brings you here.”
“Master Flen, as I told you, they’ve no memory of this love,” Kendric said. “Awake, they despise each other.”
