When they arrived at the cart, Orin appeared with fresh water. Together, they helped settle the lass on the bench. No questions were asked, which was prudent. The stranger would share how she came to be injured in the woods soon enough, and he prayed she came up with a plausible story.
Orin turned to Evan. “You turn up in the oddest places.”
“I mean you no harm. I might have scared away your horse, though, and for that I be truly sorry. Might I help get you safely to the village, then look for him?”
“Spark ran away? That be hard to believe. He has faced hungry wolves and a stranger brandishing a whip,” Orin said.
“And a dragon,” Vika added.
At the look the young stranger gave Evan, a nervous prickle raced down his neck. He had a secret, but he hoped she would not break his trust. Shifters were not a well-known entity. Tales said some lived on the island of Rum, and in the Orkney Islands, but not close enough to their dragon lair in the Cuillin Hills.
“I spooked him, and I be sorry, as I said, but I will be happy to help hunt him down. However, this lass be injured, and needs our aid.”
Orin glanced at the shifter, and his cheeks reddened. Evan chuckled, then thought better of it. The boy was young, the lass was pretty, and who was he to laugh at young love? He ought to concentrate on mating with Vika, and soon. If the experiment failed, and he was unable to create a new member of the dragon clan by mating with a human female, they would need to leave their home and search the world for other dragons.
The thought of leaving the Cuillin Hills in search of an unknown entity, and leaving Vika behind, filled him with a new urgency to see this current experiment to the end.
“I agree with Orin. Having such lovely females be wonderful, but we will all be more comfortable once we get this young lass tended to.” The shifter sat quietly on the cart seat, while Orin questioned Vika. Evan listened in, until Vika strode toward the village, which was still some distance away.
“She insists on finding her horse. We need to get to the village as fast as possible.” Orin climbed up into the cart, and the shifter scooted as far from him as she could. The lad ignored the mistrust, and set the old pony walking in the same direction. “You be welcome to walk with us.”
Evan nodded and, where there was enough room, followed alongside. Even when the trail narrowed, and he was forced to walk behind the heavily loaded cart, he kept a steady watch on the shifter. He would not put it past her to attack Vika, or her brother, or to call for reinforcements. He doubted she lived alone, or only with a pack of wolves. As he contemplated the chances that some or all of the other wolves were also shifters, Vika’s footsteps had gone quiet.
“She must be high-tailing it ahead,” Evan said, suddenly missing his own tail, and scales.
“No matter. Vika loves her solitude.”
Orin didn’t sound worried, and Evan tried to agree. She seemed to be a strong female, and he sensed she could cope with anything. Those traits alone would make her a magnificent mate for a dragon.
***
Vika couldn’t cope with one more thing, not when her heart was racing and her legs had turned to jelly. The moment Evan Brown stepped onto the trail, his manly scent and coppery hair had taken her by surprise. She never thought she’d see him again so soon, not after he’d kissed her senseless in her own home. His arrival was a pleasant surprise, but his attention strayed quickly to the wounded woman. He had barely looked at Vika.
With her mind on Evan, and the amber eyes that barely looked at her, a slight noise didn’t concern her. If it was Spark foraging nearby, it would be louder. The beast had a habit of wandering off, like Evan. Maybe she should have grabbed her bow, but she was done with killing. She glanced down at her scratched and empty hands. “No more blood on these hands tonight.”
Someone burst from the trees, and tackled her to the ground, shocking her. With the breath knocked from her lungs, and the man’s weight pressing her to the forest floor, she spat out pine needles and dirt. Raising her head to scream, a filthy hand covered her mouth and nose before she could even whimper.
Struggling to free herself, and breathe, the weight barely moved. She bucked until the smelly hand fell away from her nose, and she could take a breath. Her ribs felt bruised, but the pain was nothing compared to the indignation of lying helpless under a man. An indignation that was not going to continue.
The moment the body above her shifted, she twisted just enough to pull her sgian dubh from her boot. Unfortunately, before she could slash at her attacker with the small dagger, he was gone. She rolled onto her back.
“Play nice, lass. ‘Tis a shame to injure such a luscious body, especially when we have so much to discuss.”
“Toal? What do you mean by this? You should be off killing game, trying to win our wager. Do you concede defeat?” She struggled to her feet, and leaned against a tree trunk. The man’s sneer, as he crossed his arms in victory, was the last straw. “I presume you have a reason for accosting me in so rude a fashion? Why did you not announce yourself instead?”
“Me dear Vika. ‘Tis part of the game. Romance can be dull and long-lived, but you have turned me down too many times. Me patience be at an end. You and I have some business to take care of, before we head to the village. Follow me, if you will be so kind.”
“And if I refuse? I have to get to the village as soon as possible. People be expecting me.” She had no plans to go anywhere with such a brute. If she delayed him a little longer, Orin and Evan might arrive to help her chase Toal away. How could she distract him?
“Lass, why be you in such a hurry? ‘Tis a chilly afternoon, but I can think of several ways to warm ourselves. Let us take a walk and…talk.” Toal’s thick black eyebrows wavered, and he smiled down at her chest.
“Me face be up here, Toal.”
He turned away and spit on the ground, then loosened his stance. “When Elder Kinnon suggested this wager, I never thought you would best me and me man, but I saw your cart. You have quite the mound of meat. ‘Tis of no concern, as you shall not arrive in the village with it. We shall depart this place before your whelp of a brother comes this way. He shall not think to look for you at MacMorgan Manor.”
“I beg forgiveness, but I have an appointment with Elder Kinnon at Black MacFingan’s Tavern before midnight.” Before she could step more than a foot down the path away from him, he grabbed her arms. She wasn’t strong enough to keep him from tying her wrists behind her back.
“You will not make that appointment. I will be locking you away in me home until I convince you to be mine.” He tugged painfully on the bindings, then pushed her in the direction of his manor to the north. Vika wanted to scream, and call for help. Orin and Evan should be close enough to hear her.
“Keep quiet, or me dirk shall find itself buried in your brother’s back.”
Vika didn’t think he would kill an innocent lad, but she couldn’t take the chance. Orin was all she had left, and Evan Brown was a stranger to her. Could he protect Orin? He didn’t carry a weapon, but he had scared away a dragon. Toal was meaner. Did they realize she no longer walked the trail ahead of them? Orin was a good hunter, because she had taught him well, but would he notice her tracks had left the main trail?
***
“Why has Vika walked so far ahead of us? ‘Tis prudent we stay together. There be dragons and wolves about,” Evan said, growing concerned. His human nose could barely detect her sweet fragrance. When the trail widened, he was able to walk alongside the cart.
The strange lass glared at him. She shifted on the cart bench seat, as if trying to move farther from him while she found a more comfortable position on the hard wood. She winced.
“What pains you, lass?” Orin asked.
“Me shoulder aches. ‘Tis nothing,” she whispered.
Evan had to draw her out, and make sure she did not plan to give him away. “Before we look for Vika, I would like to know your name, lass.”
The woman glanced at him, then
at Orin. “I…I be no one.”
“Don’t be silly. We be friends. I be Orin MacKinnon, and this be Evan Brown. I believe Evan be me sister Vika’s new…friend.”
She took a deep breath, and clutched her hands in her lap. Her cheeks were pale, and a momentary streak of sunlight caught her long, wispy red curls, making them glow like flames.
“Me name be Maeve.”
She did not offer a surname, nor her home village, but at least she was no longer silent and evasive. Evan smiled at her. “Maeve be a lovely name. I believe it means mythical queen.”
She nodded, and Orin’s eyebrow rose. “A learned man, Evan? ‘Tis odd I have not met you before.”
“Like this lass, I be a stranger, traveling the land. I mean you no harm.” Evan looked at Maeve as he said the words, hoping she understood the need to keep their secrets from humans.
“Aye, I have traveled too far from me home, and I be unsure where to go…”
“You need not go anywhere until your injury heals. Me sister will find you a bed. But you,” Orin said, glancing at Evan, “you can sleep in the barn behind Black MacFingan’s tavern.”
“I like barns,” he answered. To keep his lips from curving up into a smile, he moved down the trail ahead of them. If he caught up with Vika, and talked to her, instead of kissing her, he might sway her into a sexual relationship. At her cottage, he felt that she was responding, but the wager was heavy on her mind.
“If you come upon Vika, tell her she ought to wait for us!” Orin ordered.
Evan didn’t answer. If he was lucky, Vika would agree to find a lonely spot with which to kiss him again. Maybe after the wager ended?
His groin tightened, and his blood heated. He remembered their last kiss, and wanted to taste her lips, her ear, and much more. Her scent was as intoxicating as a midnight flight, and her skin was as soft as rainwater flowing across his scales. She was pretty, he thought, though Maeve was just as lovely. Would he be better off pursuing a known shifter?
Shaking his head, he continued walking, and followed the light scent of the human female he’d recently kissed. When the tracks disappeared from the trail heading straight into the village, and veered to the north, he stopped and sniffed the air. The scent had changed.
She was afraid! Something, or someone, had made her change course. Evan took a deeper breath, and a familiar stench overpowered Vika’s fragrance.
“Toal.”
The bastard either grabbed her, or was chasing her. He searched the grounds around the trail, and found signs of a struggle. When he spotted a torn piece of clothing the same color as Vika’s skirt, his blood boiled, and his dragon yearned for release.
The change came upon him with such swiftness, that his wings lifted slightly from his back, his talons gripped the forest floor, and his borrowed tartan blew away. When the intense sparkling stopped, and the wave of euphoria faded, he became aware he was no longer alone.
“Bloody Hell! A dragon!” Orin reined in the screaming pony. With one hand on the cart, and the other on the reins, he jumped to the ground. He tied the pony to a tree, ran around to the other side of the cart, grabbed Maeve, and shoved her under the cart. “Stay hidden!”
Evan hoped the boy had not witnessed his shift, and he wasn’t sure if there was a way to tell him he meant him no harm. When Orin grabbed his crossbow, the decision to either stay, or follow Vika and Toal’s tracks, was made for him.
He unfurled his wings, and vaulted into the sky. Clipped branches fell toward Orin, and he watched the boy fly beneath the cart to safety. The lad and Maeve were unharmed by his foolish action, and he hoped Orin would also notice Vika’s tracks.
CHAPTER 12
“That was a dragon! Did you see him?” Orin’s heart was racing. Maeve merely stared at him with big blue eyes, and he realized she was very close, and his arm was laying over her prone form, protectively. “I beg your pardon, lass.”
He scrambled out from under the cart, and helped her to her feet. For a lass who had just come face to face with a real live dragon, she was too quiet.
“Maeve, look at me.”
She glanced from the ground to his face, but he couldn’t read her expression. When she spied the crossbow in his hand, she stepped back a few feet.
“I did not have time to use it, before it flew away. We must search for me sister. If that demon killed her…”
“Please do not fret. She be safe,” Maeve whispered.
Orin was speechless. How could she know? He prayed she was right, but didn’t want to upset her by questioning her further. Instead, he followed the tracks that littered the forest floor. The dragon’s talons had scraped away several, but he recognized Vika’s small boot prints. They led into the woods, away from town, but the other tracks were of greater concern than the appearance of a dragon.
“Someone follows her!” Orin tracked her trail a bit farther and spotted signs of a struggle, but no more dragon tracks. The larger prints belonged to a man’s boots. Evan’s feet were bare. Where had he run off?
“Someone has taken Vika!”
Orin had a decision to make. Should he follow Vika’s tracks, or stay with the overloaded cart and Maeve? Running back to Maeve, his distress grew. She had climbed into the seat, but had slumped over.
“Maeve!” When she did not stir, he slapped her cheek. With no response, he knew she needed help, and fast. He untied Old Gray from the tree, jumped into the cart, and forced the pony toward town. He made a mental note of where Vika had disappeared, and he prayed whoever had taken his sister was not bent on ruthless treatment of her.
Vika carried a sgian dubh, but she was a small lass. When he found her tin blade on the edge of the trail, his heart stopped.
“This was a gift from our da. She would never be so carless, unless…” He had a feeling Toal was involved, and was most likely to blame for the near loss of their meat. He would get Maeve to a healer, and make sure the elders viewed their cart filled with meat before anything else. If someone stole their winning haul or meat and skins, Vika would never forgive him.
***
Evan sniffed the air, but her scent mingled with too many others. He followed until he reached an area just north of Vika’s village. Horses grazed in the fields on the outskirts, and he wished he was grazing among them. When he recalled Vika’s touch, as she brushed his coat, he sighed. Tendrils of smoke escaped his nostrils, and he glanced over the humans going about their everyday lives, far below. Since Vika and Toal’s scents stayed outside the village, Evan kept flying. A large manor house came into view, and the scents grew stronger.
After Orin and Maeve had driven away, he had returned and snatched up his wool plaide. With it clutched in his grip, he had the opportunity to shift back into his human form near the building. The problem was whether he should shift into a human, or attack Toal and save Vika, in his dragon form. His dragon was much stronger than a human male. However, if he saved her as Evan Brown, Vika would be more inclined to show her gratitude.
The sky had darkened, and the scent of snow grew, mingling with the smoke wafting up from the manor’s cracked chimneys. He kept out of sight by flying in and out of the clouds, until he located the least protected entranceway. Slipping down into the trees near the rear of the manor, he shifted back into his human form.
A cold wind hit him square in the chest, and he raced to fold and tie the long plaid around his body. He wished he still had the horse blanket Vika had placed over him, in her barn. He missed her quiet voice, and her gentle touch. The urge to save her from Toal made him pray for the swift approach of nightfall. The darkness would be the only cover he could use to his advantage. A weapon would help, but he had never owned a man-made item such as a sword or bow.
As a human, his senses had diminished. He knew she was in the manor house, and not the outbuildings, but he wasn’t sure how many others were near. Toal had hired men to do his dirty work, such as trying to steal Vika and Orin’s meat, so he had to assume there were others about.
Raised voices spewed from an upper window, and Vika’s was the loudest.
“Good lass.” Knowing her exact location made it easier for him to investigate the outer defenses of the dilapidated structure. Spying a nearby vine, he climbed the thick, twisted plant to a balcony adjacent to the open window, and listened.
“You have no right to bring me here, Toal. Our wager ends at midnight, and I shall win.”
“I be truly sorry, lass, but you shall lose. Me man has arrived at the elder’s council, by now. When Ranald failed to steal your kills, I sent another. I shall do all I can to detain you.”
“Ranald was your man? I be glad I did not meet up with him. He would have found me arrow in his heart. You had someone try to make me lose the wager? You coward! Your man died a gruesome death!”
“Oh, did you kill him? When he did not return with news of his success, I thought your little brother might have slit his throat.”
“He was taken by either wolves, or a dragon.”
“Ha! Wolves I can believe, although the man was a crafty hunter, but there be no such thing as dragons.”
Evan, still hiding, smirked. Toal was in for a rude awakening.
“I have seen two different dragons during this hunt, and I must share the news with the village elders. You must not keep me here, as they need to know. The villagers might be in danger!”
“Vika, do not try to change the topic of our conversation. I be keeping you here so you lose the wager. And…for other reasons.”
Evan couldn’t see Toal’s face, but he sensed the leering smile in his voice. Toal wanted Vika. He hoped Vika did not want the man.
“Toal, please listen to me. I have left me brother behind with a horribly injured young woman. We were heading to the village to search out the healer. He must be worried about me. Let me go.”
“Nay, lass. I have sent men to stop the lad from finding his way to the elders. When neither you, nor your kills, arrive by the appointed time, I shall be declared the winner.”
Spark (Clan of Dragons Book 1) Page 10
