by Mary Morgan
His anger snapped like the sting of a wasp. “Never tell me, the leader of the Fenian Warriors what to do! Your reach does not include governing me. In truth, I can order you to return to the Fae world, if you attempt to interfere.”
The woman blanched and took a step back. “You would not dare…Besides, she is a human.”
“Your point?”
“You play a dangerous game, Aidan.”
He stiffened, his eyes narrowing at the woman. “I do not play games, Aelish.”
“You were warned, Aidan Kerrigan. What you do from this moment forward will have consequences. Remember my words.” With a flick of her wrist, Aelish vanished in a blur of soft colors and unsealed the doors on her exit.
Thankfully, the woman had not understood what he meant by honorable intentions. Sadly, nor did Aidan.
Glancing at the closed door, he realized he had two choices.
One, he could simply vanish and consider the case closed.
Two, he could let the Fates decree where the path wove. Why else would the High Seer suggest he take this mission?
“When did making a decision create mass confusion?” Aidan barked out in laughter at the ironic twist of fate.
As a leader and warrior, the answer was simple. As a man, complicated.
He lifted his hand, preparing to leave, when Rose entered the room. Her radiance and serenity surrounded him—centering the conflict within. Aidan exhaled slowly and lowered his arm.
See the mission through to fruition. Let the Fates determine if the threads are to be broken or looped together.
“I’m sorry it took so long. No one has done any laundry, and I had to borrow something from Lily’s wardrobe,” she confessed quickly.
“No worries.” You could have worn rags and the essence of your beauty would have shone through. Crossing the room, Aidan gestured her forward. “Before we leave, I’d like to see your horse.”
“Daisy?” she asked in mystified tone.
“You spoke of her, and I have a fondness for the animals.”
As they moved out of the sitting room and through the entryway, Rose remarked, “I must warn you, Daisy does not like men. So if she nips at you or stomps her hoof, do not take offense.”
Aidan laughed. “Duly noted.”
After following Rose around the back of the main house, they proceeded down a narrow path between a large garden filled with herbs and vegetables. He dipped under a trellis filled with flowering honeysuckle and the hum of bees. Onward they traveled through a cluster of apple and pear trees, their blossoms heady with the scent of the fruit they’d eventually bear. The area opened and curved to the right to reveal the stables and pasture.
The doors to the building were open as he stepped inside. He watched in awe as Rose reached for a small apple from a basket and handed it to him. “A peace offering.”
“From what you’ve explained, the horse may take my fingers, instead of the fruit.”
Rose burst out in laughter. Her entire face transformed, and Aidan was captivated. “Are you afraid?” she teased.
After taking the apple from her outstretched hand, Aidan rolled it casually within his palm. “Never of an animal.”
Rose tapped him lightly on the chest. “We shall see. Follow me.”
“Lead the way, fair maiden.”
Rose led him down to the last stall. He came to an abrupt halt, assessing the large horse. “Daisy is a Clydesdale?”
Leaning against the gate, she nodded. “What did you expect? A Shetland pony?” Rose gave a soft clicking noise. The horse turned her head and trotted forth.
“Her name does not suit her,” professed Aidan. “The flower is simple, not majestic like this animal.” Gently, he reached out within the horse’s mind, uttering soothing words.
“Sadly, I agree. The Society bought her at an auction for abandoned horses. She was a working animal and treated horribly. Our intention was to have horses to help with the land in the hills. We immediately changed our plans to include more fruit trees. Daisy was one of four we rescued. Their lives are simple: Wander the pasture, graze on food, and frequent rides through the hills.”
He gently rubbed the horse’s muzzle. Aidan removed a sgian dubh from his boot. “Greetings, Daisy. Would you care for an apple?”
Rose laughed, watching the interaction between him and the horse. “Do you always carry a knife?”
Slicing into the apple, he held it out for the animal. “Always. I have a fascination with blades.”
“Impressive.”
“The sgian dubh or that Daisy has taken a fancy to me?”
A cat jumped up along the stalls and made its way to Aidan. The feline sat down a few inches away, and proceeded to clean her paws.
Rose took a step back and stared at the scene. “Both,” she answered softly. She pointed to the animals. “These two are the most stubborn and unfriendly here.”
He brushed a hand over the back of the cat. The animal leaned against him and purred loudly.
“She never purrs,” expressed a shocked Rose.
“Och, she required the gentle touch of a man. Correct, Mistress?”
The color faded from Rose’s cheeks. “How do you know her name?”
Aidan angled his head at her. “Is she not the mistress of the stables?”
She swallowed. “You are a mysterious man, Aidan Kerrigan.”
He winked at her. “Most assuredly, Rose MacLaren.”
Holding out his arm, he added, “Let us retreat to the Standing Stones of Bran.”
Chapter Fourteen
“In the beginning of the Society, the eldest female made annual travels to all the Standing Stones in the surrounding hills. She returned with sage advice that included folklore wisdom from the ancients and historical lore.”
~Society of the Thistle
“Of course, I should have known it would rain,” Rose protested feebly. Dark clouds threatened to invade the landscape where she’d settled in for some invaluable research on the altar stone. She narrowed her eyes. “I banish you until I am done here.” Yet, she knew her words would do little to persuade the elements to halt their progress across the sky.
“Any chance you can command the storm to stay its course?” she asked in amusement.
Aidan’s mouth twitched in humor, revealing more of the dimple she so admired. “Your wish is my command.” He closed his eyes for a few seconds. Snapping them open, he announced, “Done.”
“Be careful. You might have angered the God of the Sky.”
He looked at her sternly. “I was not aware there was one.”
“Teasing.”
Continuing with her work, she concentrated on sketching part of the slab, until a burst of sunlight illuminated the stone. Rose let out an audible gasp and lifted her head. Shielding her hand over her eyes, she burst out in laughter. “Amazing!”
The clouds had retreated to the north and far away from her position. Glancing in Aidan’s direction, she gaped at the man as he reclined against one of the stones, eyes closed, and a smile that made her skin prickle. Even in his relaxed pose, Aidan commanded power and assurance.
Rose could study the man for hours, each nuance, each stance, and never become bored. When he’d stepped through the door at the Society and she heard his voice, her first instinct was to flee. Yet, the moment their gazes locked, she found herself glued to the staircase. She might have bit out harsh words at the man, yet, her heart had rejoiced in seeing him grace their entryway.
He came back for you. She smiled, the feeling warming her all over.
An idea took hold, and she flipped to a clean page in her sketch book and began drawing his face. Rose didn’t know what propelled her to include his image with all the others, but if he left tomorrow, then she’d have something to remember. Aidan was the only one who ever seemed interested in her findings. He actually asked questions and didn’t look at her like she was demented or not prone to knowledgeable opinions. So many others at the university discounted her
work and those from the Society.
The warmth of the sunlight touched her shoulders as her fingers flew across the page. When she was satisfied with her work, she held it up and compared it to the live man sitting several feet away. “Perfection,” she whispered.
Returning her attention to the slab, she got on her knees and brushed her hand over the entire stone. There was infinite beauty in these ancient carvings. And for a moment, she pondered if this might be a part of the dolmen stone, whereas there would be two or more supporting stones to the giant slab. She glanced at the surrounding area to see if any others from the university thought the same. However, the ground remained undisturbed. What if there is a burial chamber underneath?
Rose became giddy at the thought. Why didn’t she think of this earlier? She dropped her sketch book. Placing both hands on the flat stone, she studied all the etched images, doing her best to discern the old etchings from graffiti.
Bright lights danced within her vision, and her stomach became queasy. Rose clutched her head. No, please don’t let this happen now. She bit her lower lip so hard, blood oozed forth. Stop, stop! Her demands were futile against the inevitable.
The taste of iron filled her mouth, along with a deafening roar of the wind. Burning pain seized her lungs, and Rose fought to take in air. With a snap, everything ceased, and she tumbled onto the ground. Blackness engulfed her. Her fingers dug into the soft grass, and she blinked to focus on her surroundings.
There was that familiar voice. Strong, steady, and she tried to lift her head. After several moments, her strength returned. Rising from the ground, Rose turned in all directions. The standing stones were luminous in the bright moonlight. And when she halted, a man stood centered in front of the dolmen stone, with his arms raised. Except in this vision there was only one glorious moon, not the three she’d witnessed previously.
His voice carried with the breeze, caressing her cheek. The sharp scent of pine made her dizzy as she moved across the open landscape. Rose yearned to join him. Though his words made no sense, she understood this night to be special. He was there to teach—to share his wisdom with her.
As she approached, she lifted her hand to touch his back. A time to acknowledge and thank him for his gift to her people. “I am here,” she announced and brushed her fingers over his back.
A blast of sizzling energy tossed her backward. The images blurred and tumbled away from her. Screaming, Rose fought to return to his side. She didn’t want to leave him. There was so much more to learn. Strong arms encircled her, crushing her against a solid object, and Rose fought harder.
“Stop fighting,” demanded Aidan. “Relax and let go, lass.”
A battle between the murkiness of reality and visions kept its grip around Rose. She tried to fight—willing her mind to return, but Aidan’s soothing touch and words calmed her.
Her eyes fluttered open, and then she squeezed them shut. “Let go,” she pleaded in a hoarse voice. “Sick…”
Aidan turned her around, and Rose emptied everything in her stomach onto the ground. Embarrassed by her predicament, she scooted away from him. After taking in deep breaths, she wiped the back of her mouth on her sleeve.
Returning to her side, he handed her a flask. “Drink,” he urged.
“Wh…whisky?” She pushed it away.
“Water,” he said softly against her cheek, bringing the flask to her mouth.
Rose took a few sips and nodded her thanks. Her body trembled from the intensity of the vision. Hugging her arms around herself, Rose tried to stop the quaking in her limbs. When the brush of Aidan’s fingers touched her shoulders, she cringed, but Rose allowed him to continue. Heat invaded her pores, filling her. Bending her head forward, she sighed as he massaged her neck and shoulders.
She squeezed her eyes shut to fight the tears from streaming down her face. Never before had she hated her gift until this moment. Did she have violent spasms in front of him? You bloody fool, you know you did.
“Can you share what happened, Rose?”
Shaking her head, pain was her reward, and she placed a cool palm over her forehead.
“A simple no would have sufficed.”
Rose let out a frustrated breath and attempted to stand. Aidan wrapped a strong arm around her waist. Averting her gaze from the questioning look she knew covered his features, Rose concentrated on the tree branches swaying gently in the breeze.
“An intense vision?”
Stunned, she swept her gaze back at him. “How did you know?”
“My sister has…a gift of foresight,” he admitted.
Rose swallowed. “Tell me more.”
“Nuala—”
“What a unique name.” She blushed and then added, “Sorry, do continue…”
Aidan chuckled low. “Yes, Nuala, acquired the rare talent from our family. I perceived you did as well by certain actions when you are in a trance.”
“I’m totally embarrassed,” she gushed out. “I’ve never experienced the intensity of a vision, especially the same recurring one. And in front of you.” She waved her hand dismissively around the area. “It is all centered on these two digs. I don’t fully understand the purpose. Perhaps I’m only to gather the wisdom left behind and not share it with anyone else? Others might suspect I’m ready for a mental institution. It’s difficult to explain to those who don’t believe. Sometimes I see the past when I touch an object. Other times, they simply come upon me without warning. I usually can sense when they’re about to happen by having auras, being nauseated, or the sensation of floating away.”
Tipping her chin up with his finger, Aidan kissed her nose. “Then I am happy it was me and not a stranger who witnessed this display of your gift.”
Rose studied the man. “Who are you, Aidan?”
Wariness reflected briefly in his eyes. “A friend.”
Leaning her cheek against his chest, Rose watched the sun slip behind the gray clouds. “Rain is coming, I fear. I’m done here.”
Gently, Aidan held her back. “Are you positive?”
Emotions clouded her logical, rational side. “I can’t continue to do research until I figure out why I’m having these visions.” Rose tugged on his jacket. “Why don’t you introduce me to your sister? Does she live nearby?”
“Sorry. Her home is in Ireland.”
Her mood brightened. “Perfect. I’m leaving in a few days to oversee a new site for the Society outside of Dublin. If you don’t mind, I’d like to meet her and discuss our similarities.”
Aidan released her. “Nuala is away on business.”
The warmth fled her bones and a chill descended. Why did she not believe him? Without saying anything else, Rose retrieved her sketch book and went to grab her other items. Digging through her satchel, she pulled out some mints. She popped one into her mouth and contemplated the man who was a complex layer of mixed puzzle pieces. He owned a castle in Scotland, has mesmerizing eyes, is a scholar, animal whisperer, and now lays claim to a sister who shared a similar gift.
Are you seriously considering an attachment? If not, then you shouldn’t meet his sister or any other member of his family. Who are you kidding? You have a serious crush on Aidan.
“If you’d like company, I can go with you to Ireland. I have business matters that require my attention there at my other home.”
Halting her progress, she gawked at the man. “Another castle?”
He reached for her satchel, and Rose willingly surrendered it to him. “A much smaller version of my home here in Scotland.”
“A castle is a castle, regardless of the size,” she stated emphatically. And the list of puzzle pieces keeps growing. “Anything else you’d like to share about your background?”
Aidan braced a hand above her on the tree, trapping her with one look. “If I divulged everything about me, you might become bored and leave.”
“My intuition tells me I’d never get tired of you. Do you have deep dark secrets?”
“Only one,” he admi
tted, smiling.
Rose placed a hand against his chest. “You now know my dark secret. Surely you can share yours?”
Aidan grasped her hand and placed a kiss along the vein in her wrist. Her heart beat rapidly when he gazed into her eyes. “Let me take you to dinner, and we can discuss our trip to Ireland.”
Tugging her hand out of his grasp, she pushed away from him. “I haven’t agreed to let you come with me.”
He caught up with her in two strides. “Then we can discuss terms at dinner.”
Rose slowed her pace and held back the protest she wanted to fling at the man. In spite of his annoyed self-assurance, she enjoyed the view of his lovely ass as he made his way to the car. As always, Aidan Kerrigan managed to have the last word.
****
Rose surveyed the interior of the pub, noting a quiet booth away from all the chatter of regular customers at the bar. A favorite among the young and old, The Raven attracted many with its fine selection of single-malts and ales. She waved at the barkeep and darted between tables to reach the booth. After removing her coat, she placed it on a nearby peg and settled onto the soft leather cushions.
“Where are the other lovely ladies this evening?” inquired Bill, slapping down a few coasters.
Rose smiled at the young man. “Just me and a friend.”
He scratched his chin. “Male or female?”
“Male,” announced Aidan, striding forth.
Bill nodded slowly and gestured for Aidan to take a seat. He returned his attention to Rose. “The usual? Pale ale?”
Rubbing her hands together to ward off the chill, she replied, “I think I’ll take an Irish stout tonight, and the potato leek soup.”
Giving her a wink, Bill then turned to Aidan. “And you?”
“The same.”
“Good. I’ll return shortly with your drinks.” The man swiftly departed, dodging between several more customers.
“Give me your hands,” ordered Aidan.
She glanced sharply at him. “What?”
“Your hands. Put them on the table.”
“They’re cold,” she complained. “I’m trying to warm them up.”
