by Ann Gimpel
“I want to begin first thing tomorrow.” Her voice was muffled against his shoulder.
“Aye, lass, and we shall do just that. Your idea about tapping into the Seer magic is excellent. I am thinking we should begin across the Irish Sea, mayhap in Northern England, or even Scotland.”
She tilted her head back to look at him. Her eyes were still damp, but her mouth curved into a tender smile. “Hey, the brogue is back. I was beginning to miss it.”
“Well, ’tis a bit of an improvement. As I recall, at the beginning, ye hated it.”
“Only because it made me sad about Mother. Why not begin with the humans close by?”
“Because that is what the Old Ones will likely expect. ’Tis what they would do, if I read them correctly.”
She nodded slowly. “It is what they would do. Their hive mind mentality starts from a central core and moves out.”
A corner of his mouth twitched downward. “Aye, then, ’tis glad I am I’ve gotten something right here. Do ye want another few mouthfuls afore we lie down for the night?”
“I don’t think so.” Aislinn stood on her tiptoes and kissed him lightly before turning away. She went to the bed and flipped back the covers. Dust rose. She sneezed. “Didn’t have those cleaning genies up here, eh?”
“Sorry.” He gathered the quilt, went to the door to the balcony, opened it, and shook out the duvet’s velvety fabric. He glanced at the angle of the sun. It was late afternoon; they’d spent nearly an entire twenty-four hours at the council meeting. Balancing the quilt in one arm, he pulled the door shut. “That should be better.” He quirked a brow. “Don’t ye want to take your clothes off afore ye get into bed?”
“Nope. Took my boots off, though.” She flashed him a grin. “It’s cold in here. That fire you lit went out hours ago.” She pulled sheets and blankets over herself.
“So it did.” He chucked some wood into the fireplace, lit it with magic, and then walked next to the bed. “I can warm you until the fire takes over.” Fionn peeled off his jacket and wool shirt. His skin pebbled from the chill air. He bent to untie his boots and then toed them off. The only thing left were his worn jeans. He slid them down his hips, aware that his cock was still hard.
“No shorts?”
“Ye wanton hussy. Ye’re supposed to be asleep.”
“What, and miss the show? You’re nearly as good as the Chippendales guys.”
“And when would ye have seen them? Ye weren’t old enough to frequent nightclubs afore things went to rat shit.”
She winked lewdly. “False ID.”
He slid under the sheets and drew her to him. “If ye’re too tired, lass, ’tis fine. There’s always the morn.”
“Um-hum, we can do it then, too. Right now doesn’t have to be fancy, but I’d like to feel you inside me.”
She kicked a leg over his hip and rubbed herself against him. Already stiff peaks, her nipples poked his chest, even through her clothes. He dropped his hands to the waist of her pants and hunted for a zipper or buttons before realizing all he had to do was push the elastic downward. She wriggled her hips to help.
“It’s good,” she panted. “All I need is one leg free.” She rolled onto her back and pulled him atop her.
His breath caught in his throat. He supported his weight on his arms. With her red hair fanned around her and her face blotchy with lust, Aislinn was the most beautiful thing he’d ever laid eyes on. He wanted to kiss her, but he wanted to watch her, too.
She spread her legs, reached down, and guided him inside. He sank into her easily, gasping as her damp heat closed around his shaft. She rocked her pelvis against him and locked her legs around his waist. He bent his head and closed his mouth over hers. Unlike their previous lovemaking, this was full of gentle movements. Tiny muscle flutters sent jolts of electricity to heat his blood. Somewhere in the midst of things, he felt her tighten around him again and again and knew she was coming. With a mind of its own, his cock joined her in release.
Sleep took them both while he was still buried deep in her body.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
The scrabbling of tiny claws outside the door woke her. Aislinn opened her eyes to sunlight pouring into Fionn’s bedroom.
“Let us in. We want to play.”
Fionn rolled over and groaned. “May as well get up.”
“See?” She eyed him and winked lazily. “It’s a good thing we got other things taken care of before we fell asleep.”
“No kidding. Nothing like bairns to ruin your love life.”
“I thought you wanted a houseful of our own.”
He chuckled. “Aye, and mayhap I’ll be rethinking that one.”
The clawing at the door escalated. It shuddered against its frame. A moment later, it popped open with the black dragon clinging to the latch. “Told you,” he broadcasted proudly. “All I had to do was pull it.”
Fionn got to his feet and tugged a robe off a hook on the back of the door. He scooped the adventuresome dragon up and moved it so they were nose to nose. “Now look here, youngling. Ye must learn to knock.”
“I did.” The dragon had a high, piping voice. It blew a puff of smoke in Fionn’s face.
Aislinn stifled a giggle. What a good chance to see Fionn’s parenting skills—or lack thereof—in action.
He tightened his jaw. “Aye, and ye dinna wait for me to open the door.”
“You took too long.” More smoke.
Fionn rolled his eyes. “Stop that. It doesna matter how long ye must wait. There’s such a thing as manners…”
The bedsprings shifted. Aislinn glanced to the side expecting Rune, but the rest of the youngling crew were crawling onto the bed. A red female led the pack. She strolled across the covers and curled on top of Aislinn.
“Plucky little things, aren’t they?” She stroked the dragon’s head. It leaned into her. One of the green ones hissed and snarled, trying to snare the choice spot for itself. Aislinn pushed herself to a sit and stuffed pillows between her back and the elaborately carved headboard.
“Gutsy and totally unprincipled.” Fionn put the dragon on the floor and tightened the sash of his robe. “Dewi!” he bellowed.
“You needn’t shout. I’m right outside. If I remember correctly, I’m near your quarters. Open your balcony door.”
Fionn strode across the room and threw the door open. Aislinn craned her head, but couldn’t catch a glimpse of Dewi’s long neck. Makes sense. She’s not tall enough to reach the balcony. Hmph. Maybe we need to move to the second floor.
She pushed a few dragons out of the way and dropped her legs over the side of the bed. One of the red ones tried to get into her lap again. “You’re very sweet, but I’m leaving. It’s time to get up.”
“But we just got here.” The red dragon’s chant was picked up by seven other voices.
Aislinn straightened her sweat pants and pulled them back on. She would have liked to rinse off in the bathroom, but didn’t especially want an audience. The floor was cold. She hunted down her socks, slipped them on, and clumped across the room to the open door.
Fionn was leaning over the balcony talking with Dewi and Nidhogg. “…better control over your younglings. ’Tis deucedly unsettling to have them burst into my verra bedchamber.”
“Dragons are not like other creatures,” Nidhogg said. “They are independent from birth.”
“They told us they were going into the house,” Dewi added. “Obviously, we couldn’t follow them. I figured it was safe enough.”
“Safe’s not the point—”
“It’s all right.” Aislinn moved to his side and placed a hand on his arm. “No harm done. We’ll be leaving once we’ve eaten anyway, and the little ones can have the run of things.”
“Leaving?” Dewi sounded annoyed. “Where? Your job is to protect my brood.”
Annoyance flared. Aislinn’s gut tightened. Damn the dragon anyway. She was insufferably highhanded. “They’re your children, Dewi. It’s your job to protect th
em. I’m not adverse to helping when I’m here, but I have other things to do.”
“Oh. That.” A small gout of fire burst from Dewi’s open mouth. “I was certain Fionn would talk you out of it.”
She gritted her teeth together. “What passes between us is none of your business. I do not want to stand out here where anyone within fifty miles could listen in on our conversation.” She spun and stormed back into the bedroom.
The hum of Fionn’s voice rose and fell for a few moments before he came inside and shut the door. “Ye shouldna let her get to you.”
“I know.” She pinched the bridge of her nose between thumb and forefinger. “I want to clean myself up. It may be the last bath I get for a while.”
“We like water.”
“Yes, water,” seven voices chorused.
Aislinn rolled her eyes. “Rune.”
The wolf got to his feet, displacing the black dragon. “I know what you’re about to ask me, and I’m not—”
“Please,” she cut in. “If you and Bella could entertain them for the next half hour, I’d be in your debt forever.”
Rune opened his jaws; his tongue lolled. “By my count, you already are.”
“This will be fun.” Bella left her perch and flew from youngling to youngling, pecking at them. “Out the door, little ones. We’re going downstairs.”
The last Aislinn saw of them before she closed—and bolted—the door was the black dragon clinging tenaciously to Rune’s back. “Whew! Even if we get lucky and the Old Ones don’t attack, it’s going to be a long month.”
Fionn blew out a breath. “It wouldna be so bad, but they’re the size of bobcats already. By the time ye and I return, they’ll be as big as small ponies.”
“Look on the bright side. When they get big enough, they’ll be forced to stay outside with their parents.”
“Let me get the water going.” He kissed her gently and then moved into the bathroom. “The thing that would keep them out of the house,” he said over the sound of running water, “is girth. That willna happen for quite some time. They grow upward first and then fill out.”
“Hmph. Too bad.” She shucked her clothes, walked into the bathroom, and looked at the tub. “Takes time to fill, huh?”
He whistled. “You have the most incredible body. I can’t think of a better way to while away the waiting, than—”
Aislinn’s blood heated at the raw lust in his eyes. She took a deep breath before desire got the better of her. “Nope. We’re going to talk. I was too tired last night. I do remember you said we were going to Scotland, or maybe it was Northern England.”
“You remember right. We’ll get travel packs together and leave as soon as we’ve eaten and I’ve had a chance to check in with the others.”
“Shouldn’t we search first with Seer magic? Seems like we’ll be wasting time, otherwise.”
“Nay. ’Tis better if we do that once we’re there. I doona know just how sharp the Lemurians are at picking up on the varieties of human magic—”
“Pretty adept,” she broke in. “They’re the ones who taught us about the five gifts and helped determine who had which.”
Fionn dropped a hand in the water. The air around him shimmered as he summoned magic. “There, lass. Ye can get in. I’ll add more water, but ye may as well get started.” He held out his other hand and helped her navigate the tiled steps into the sunken tub. “Soap and shampoo are in those porcelain containers. Back to the Old Ones… I’d feared as much. So if we go throwing out megawatts of Seer magic, they’ll likely figure we’re up to something and drop everything to attack.”
“You’re probably right. Do you have a more specific destination in mind than Scotland? It’s a pretty big place. Not by U.S. standards, but you know what I mean.”
He untied his robe and pushed it off his shoulders. It puddled on the floor. He stepped into the water and sat on the tiled floor of the tub. Apparently deciding the water was deep enough, he reached across her and turned the tap off. “There’s an old castle in Penrith.”
“That’s Northern England.”
He smiled. “Aye, lass. Good ye know your geography. ’Tis only a few leagues south of the Scottish border.”
“Why there?” She tilted her head back, wet her hair, and lathered shampoo through it. The liquid soap smelled delicious, like wild lavender.
“Because one of us used to live there. Lean against me, lass.”
Wonderfully knowing fingers massaged her scalp. She gave herself up to being cared for. Once her hair was washed, she soaped his body, loving the feel of his golden skin stretched taut over hard planes of muscle.
“You’re not making this easy.” Her breath hitched. “All I really want to do is drag you back to bed and fuck you until neither of us can walk.”
Fionn grinned at her. “I thought that was supposed to be my line.” He curved a hand around his submerged erection. “’Tis here for you whenever ye want.”
She leaned into him and wrapped an arm around his shoulder. “I love you.”
He bent his head and kissed her. The kiss was gentle and tender and full of promise. When he broke away, he said, “I love you, too, Aislinn. I’d love you even if ye weren’t the MacLochlainn.”
“What if I weren’t and there was another—”
He laid a finger over her lips. “I’d figure something out. Nothing will ever separate us, shy of death.” Emotion thrummed beneath his words.
Joy took root and bloomed deep within her.
All too soon, the water cooled enough it was time to leave. Feeling refreshed, she dried off and dug through her rucksack for something warm and practical to put on. Arms closed around her from behind.
“I’ll see you downstairs, lass. I want to talk with Gwydion and the others and get something started for breakfast if they havena already.” He tweaked her nipples and started for the door.
“But you’re naked.”
“Ye noticed. Good.” Fionn shot his ten-thousand watt grin over one shoulder and bolted out the door.
“Well, it is his house,” she muttered to the closed door. “He must have clothes stashed lots of places.”
It took her a while to dress and repack her rucksack with what she thought she’d need. She looked ruefully at her boots. Maybe Fionn would have some sort of shoe glop she could use to glue the gaping rents in the worn leather.
“Rune. How’s it going?”
“There’s a reason I never fathered pups. Although, small wolves mind their elders. Bella and I are trying to herd them outside so their real parents can take care of them.”
“I’ll be down soon.”
Rune didn’t answer. She shouldered her pack and let herself into the hallway, taking care to latch the door. She looked about for a key to turn the bolt from the hall side, but didn’t see one. The dragon horde could do a lot of damage if they were left to run wild through Fionn’s manor house. I’ll have to tell Gwydion and the others to keep a close eye. She snorted. No matter what she said, she had a hard time envisioning any of the Celtic gods as strict disciplinarians when it came to the younglings. They were far more likely to over-indulge what they saw as an unexpected gift.
She looked around the empty great room as she moved down the second set of stairs. It really was elegantly appointed, with huge wooden beams crisscrossing below its high ceiling. The tapestries looked like heavy silk, and the rugs appeared to be old and hand-woven with an inch-thick nap. Dragons and unicorns cavorted across the dark carpets. A man with a flute, probably Pan, held court on one of the tapestries in the midst of a crowd of centaurs.
Aislinn shook her head. “It’s like walking through a museum,” she murmured and pushed the door leading to the kitchen hallway open.
The buzz of voices reached her. She rounded a corner and went down a few steps and into the main kitchen. Smaller rooms opened off it that probably hadn’t been in use for centuries, like the buttery.
Gwydion, Arawn, Bran, and Fionn sat around the kitchen tab
le. An oak oblong, it could have accommodated a dozen. Fionn had traded his earlier nudity for battle leathers. They hugged his tall, well-muscled form.
Gwydion looked up. “Top of the day to you, lass. Come eat.”
“I smell coffee.”
“In the silver pot on the counter.” Fionn got to his feet and poured her a cup. “We got lucky. I dinna think I had any left. Rune snuffled it out afore he and the herd left.”
Aislinn giggled. “Herd, indeed.” She took the steaming mug from Fionn and sniffed appreciatively before taking a sip. “Is there any milk?”
“Powdered.”
“I’ll pass.” She set her mug in front of an empty place at the table, got a bowl, and dished up a cereal mixture from a large pot. “Oatmeal?”
“Aye,” Arawn said, “with a bit of barley and dried fruit and nuts. I did mix powdered milk in with it, but ye canna taste it—at least not much. And honey. There’s honey in it, too.”
“Sounds great.” She settled at the table. “Anything I don’t have to cook myself is always wonderful.”
“Hear that.” Bran elbowed Fionn who’d sat back down. “The lass actually admitted she doesna like to cook.”
“Truer words were never spoken.” Aislinn flashed him a grin and tucked into her food. Voices ebbed and flowed around her speaking Gaelic. She caught some of the conversation, but far from all of it. She took a sip of coffee. It was perfect: hot and strong and bitter. “Where did Rune and Bella take the younglings?” She glanced around at the men.
Arawn snorted. “Does it matter, so long as they are not underfoot? They were unbelievable pests while I was cooking breakfast. One actually fell into the cook pot.”
“Heat doesn’t bother them, does it?” Aislinn asked in between bites.
Arawn shook his head. “Nay, but it slowed me down since I had to take the little devil over to the sink and hose him off.”
“There would have been hell to pay if ye’d have burned our breakfast.” Fionn tried to keep a straight face, but burst out laughing.
