Broc pulled her into his arms and his mouth hungrily captured hers.
Karok watched the passionate exchanged for a time before he scratched his brow with an isolated talon and lumbered off into the shadowed recesses across the room.
"Do I love ye?" Broc laughed against her lips. "Gawd, womon, wi' ma heart and soul! I dinna want to take away the life ye deserve!"
"What life, without you?" she said achingly, and framed his face with trembling hands.
His kissed her, quaking with joy.
"Come with me to explain to my brother—"
"He'll no' understand."
"He will! Maybe he and Lachlan can help us figure out what the key is Karok needs."
"How?"
"Lachlan has a gift...a way of knowing things."
"He has the knowin'?" Broc asked, his voice inordinately deep.
"Yes. He knew I would find you here!"
Broc jiggled his head to clear his mind. "He knew I was here?"
"Yes—well, he knew someone was here at the stones. Not exactly under them, though. He warned me not to provoke you."
He laughed unsteadily. "And ye minded him weel."
She smiled sheepishly. "How was I to know? Look, Broc, Roan and Lachlan are good men. Let them help us." When she read wariness in his eyes, she planted a featherlike kiss on the tip of his nose. "Please?"
Broc moaned in resignation. "Gawd knows I canna unravel the mystery. But Taryn, yer brither and...Lachlan...willna willingly let ye remain wi' me."
An impish glow on her face, Taryn slid her palms down the muscular contours of his chest. "If a certain barbarian couldn't—"
"Aye!" he laughed, and wrapped his arms around her, molding her to him. Brushing his cheek across the top of her head, he added, "I canna imagine anyone stoppin' ye from havin' yer way."
"C'mon," she said, squirmed from his embrace and entwined the fingers of a hand through his. She gave him a tug to follow. "The sooner we unravel the key business, the sooner...." Her voice trailed off when she noticed him staring at the couple on the beds.
"Blue and Reith," she said with a smile. "They're very special to the people at Baird House."
"Baird House?"
"Lachlan's estate. Well...it was. He turned it over to my brother. Lachlan and Beth are planning to move to the States."
"Where?"
"The United States. They have twins. A boy and a girl."
"How old?" Broc murmured.
"About seven months now. Why?"
He shrugged. "Curious." He glanced at the sleeping couple. "They have a compellin' beauty abou' them, but wha' makes them so special?"
"Blue is the queen of Faerie."
"Faerie?"
Taryn nodded. "It's a fairy kingdom on Lachlan's estate. They're married, but estranged. I don't know why. I've heard Reith referred to as 'prince' and 'king.'"
"Fairies," Broc murmured, and it was then Taryn noticed a shadow of anger pass across his eyes. It left her with an uneasy feeling.
"Broc, what's wrong?"
"Ye know these...fairies, do ye?" he asked in a guarded tone.
"Yes. Why?"
Broc shrugged as if to make light of his strange mood.
"It's time we have that talk with Roan and Lachlan," she said, and took him by the hand.
Side by side, they strolled from Karok’s chamber and down the main passageway. No words were exchanged as they swung their clasped hands between them.
* * *
"Sweat Jesus, Lannie, wha' are you hopin' to accomplish?" Roan bellowed, and spat aside rain water as it pelted his face.
With a cry of outrage, Lachlan whacked the ground another time with his sword. Unable to stem his frustration, he lifted his face to the icy downpour.
"She figured ou' how to trigger the openin'," Roan said, positioning himself to Lachlan's right. "If she can, we can."
Squinting, Lachlan scanned the site. "Aye. But wha' prompted her to suddenly leave the parlor?"
Roan wearily shook his head. "I don’t know. You kept clangin' the damn sword tip on the hearthstone, and I couldn’t think straight."
Aye," Lachlan said, disgruntled. "I dinna handle feelin' helpless weel."
"Maybe—"
Both men stiffened when the ground beneath their feet shook, and both stood wide-eyed as an opening stretched lengthwise in front of them.
"Wha' opened it?" Roan said breathlessly.
"The craiture," Lachlan said, the knowing kicking in.
"This could be a trap," said Roan.
"Trap or no', I'm goin' down."
Roan nodded.
Lachlan was first to descend four of the wide steps disappearing into darkness, and tested the boundaries with the tip of the sword. "Be verra careful," he said to Roan. "No way to tell how far down these go."
Clenching his teeth and a palm cupped over his wounded shoulder, Roan cautiously descended until he was beside Lachlan. "Och, this is scary."
"Aye," Lachlan muttered. "I'll go first. Stay behind me."
Roan nodded.
They were fifteen steps down when the slab activated. Again, they stiffened in anticipation of the unknown. Upon closing, hoarse breaths gushed from them.
"Tis bloody dark," Roan said.
"Verra bloody dark."
"Wha' now?"
"Proceed wi' caution."
Roan released a mewl of despair. "Whose idea was this?"
"Grip the back o' ma shirt and dinna let go," Lachlan instructed.
Roan complied. "Lannie?"
"Aye?"
"I shouldn’t have drank so much tea."
A dry chuckle echoed in the blackness. "Roan?"
"Aye?"
"Me, too."
* * *
Fairies. Wha' cursed luck!
Broc had always refuted their existence because, if they were but a myth, then the villagers' superstitions were unfounded. Their fears for naught.
No coincidence here.
Karok's devious mind was formulating something, and this worry only compounded his trepidation in facing the other two men in Taryn's life—Lachlan in particular.
As he and Taryn strode through one passageway after another in the direction of the stairs, Broc mused, So, he has the knowin', too. Is it the cause o’ the mon's hostility toward me? Does he ken o' the shame I have brought upon the MacLachlan clan?
He was running scenarios through his mind when they rounded a bend that branched off into three passageways. Next he knew, Taryn cried out as she was yanked from his grasp, and he found himself backed against a rock wall, the point of a broadsword digging into the base of his throat.
"Lachlan, no!"
Her voice swam in Broc's ears as he stared into the furious dark eyes of the man called Lachlan.
"Dammit, Roan, let me go!" she demanded, struggling within the band of his left arm cinching her middle.
"Have care no' to set ma shoulder bleedin' again," Roan said, his tone calm, as if speaking to a child.
Broc shifted his gaze to the wild look in Taryn's eyes, and he forced a half-hearted grin. "Tis all right, lass."
He winced when his Adam's apple bobbed against the blade. As if compelled, he stared into the dark eyes again and felt his skin tighten on his frame.
"How did you find your way down here?" Taryn said angrily, her struggles weaker.
"Wha' matters is, we did," Roan said dryly.
Lachlan's mouth was set in a thin line, his eyes blazing.
"Quite a stairway," Roan remarked, his humor intended to break the tension. "Lannie's knowin' was all tha' kept us from steppin' off the wrong way."
"Lachlan," she pleaded, "lower the sword. Broc hasn't hurt me!"
Lachlan's gaze flitted her way before returning to Broc. "Blue and Reith?"
"They're sleeping," Taryn said on a rushed breath. "Karok hasn't harmed them."
"He wanted them...safe...till they awakened," Broc said, unable to break the visual lock with Lachlan. "The other be alive as weel."
Lachlan scowled. "The other?"
"Dougie?" Taryn asked.
"Aye." Broc shifted his gaze to Roan. "Yer shoulder should be nearly healed."
Roan's eyebrows lifted then dipped into a frown. Taryn nudged from his hold, unbuttoned his shirt, and non-too-gently removed the tape securing a bandage in place on his right shoulder.
"See!" she exclaimed. "It is healed! Karok brought the others down here for their protection!"
"Lannie," Roan urged softly.
Lachlan hesitated, his gaze burning into Broc's. He stepped back and lowered the sword. "I dinna trust you."
Broc nodded. "Ye dinna know me."
"When were you born?" Lachlan asked, his tone laden with contempt.
"Seventeen-seventy-one."
Lachlan, Roan and Taryn were rocked by the reply.
"Your imprisonment here?" Lachlan asked.
"Seventeen-ninety-nine."
"And I thought you were old," Taryn said to Lachlan, who now looked more bewildered than threatening.
"Ma ancestor on ma mither's side," Lachlan murmured.
"Lachlan, we need yours and Roan's help to figure out what is Karok’s key. Broc can't leave unless—"
"We'll no' let the craiture keep you down here," Lachlan said.
Broc's sigh echoed in the passageway. "He isna keepin' me, no' in the way ye mean. Tis ma conscience wha' holds me prisoner. Aye, he could haul me back, but I doubt he would. He has only me, lass, and though there be times I hate him mightily for the games he plays wi' me, I canna leave him alone."
Taryn slipped her arms about Broc's middle. "Oh, Broc, we have to find this key."
"Aye, love," he said, and kissed the top of her head. His eyes met Lachlan's, and he added solemnly, "For all our sakes, aye."
Chapter 16
Nausea.
Not only did Blue's eyes refuse to focus, her stomach juices wouldn't stop leaping into the back of her throat. Never having been sick throughout her three-hundred-year existence, numbed arms, groggy mind, pain somersaulting in her head, and the unrelenting urge to purge the contents of her stomach, disoriented her.
To utter a sound, hurt. Movement, hurt, yet she dragged herself along rough, cold hardness, more afraid of doing nothing than subjecting herself to motion. Memories tried to break through, fractured and faded. She knew only that she was unable to unfurl her wings to use her magic to heal whatever ailed her.
She detected the soothing sound of cascading water. The terrible dryness in her mouth and throat urged her on. When what seemed like hours passed, her hand met not rock but air and dipped lower into cold liquid. She blinked hard to clear her vision.
To no avail.
Fighting back nausea and pain, she managed to right herself into a sitting position along what, a groping hand indicated, was a ledge over a body of water. She scooped one handful to her face then another, the liquid's iciness causing her to shiver. A third scoop she aimed for her mouth but the water spilled before reaching its destination.
Without thought, she leaned over to shorten the distance her hand would have to negotiate, and released a hoarse gasp when she pitched over.
Seconds after, Reith entered the chamber, his hands thrust into the pockets of his wrinkled slacks, his shoulders slumped. He had awakened hours ago, a little groggy but grateful to be among the living, and curious how he and Blue had come to be in the magnificent cavern. He had tried to wake her. When it became apparent she needed more time to be free of the drug's influence, he decided to investigate.
Granted, he hadn't traveled far from this chamber, but it concerned him nonetheless that he had no sense of placement. Of more important relevance was the fact that he could not engage his wings.
Is Blue responsible?
It was a possibility. Her timing couldn't be worse.
Reith stood by the two bed of leaves and fronds and scanned the depths of the room while he unbuttoned and removed his soiled shirt. The cool air felt good against his feverish skin. He scratched his head vigorously, trying to remember the last time he had a shower. The soft curls of his shoulder-length hair felt oily, heavy, and his skin, unclean.
He looked in the direction of the golden pool and smiled then happened a glance at Blue's bed.
"Blue?"
The moment's perplexity swept aside, he knelt and rummaged through the compositions of both beds. "Blue!"
Getting to his feet, he eyed the chamber with sharper scrutiny.
"Blue! Are ye here?"
An odd sound perked up his hearing. Listening intently, right ear cocked, his breath lodged in his lungs, he waited.
It came again.
Blub-blub.
"No," he breathed, and ran to the edge of the pool. Through the crystal clear water, amid a bed of golden water grass, he saw her.
He dove in, his arms and legs pumping wildly, his gaze locked on her still form some thirty feet down, her hair floating about her like a black cloak. Halfway, he saw her arms raise and weakly attempt to paddle her up from the bottom. Then they vanished beneath the curtain of her hair.
Several small air bubbles escaped her and ascended, nearly encountering Reith.
By the time he reached her, his lungs burned from lack of oxygen. He pulled her listless body into one arm and cast off. The ascent more grueling with her added weight, he realized his body hadn't fully recovered from the drug. The instant he broke the surface, he sucked in great breaths, and side-stroked to the pool's edge.
Blue stirred.
Moaned.
Gagged and coughed and sputtered.
"I canna climb ou' unless ye hold onto the ledge," he said, heaving breaths to combat his exhaustion.
Her fingers hooked onto the rocks.
"Dinna let go," he warned as he reluctantly withdrew his arm from around her. She bobbed, gripped harder, and swept her face across an arm to brush aside the hair blocking her view. Her dulled eyes blinked owlishly at him.
"Hold on," he said, planting his elbows atop the rocks.
He hauled himself from the pool, his muscles scolding in protest, and wasted no time slipping his hands beneath her armpits. However, the energy necessary to pull her out was more than a little lacking.
"Ye need to help," he huffed and puffed.
His arms trembled with the strain to clear her waist of the ledge. "Bloody hell," he grunted. With difficulty, he wedged his legs beneath his arms and slipped them around her, slid his inner elbows beneath her armpits, held fast, and used all his remaining strength to thrust backward.
It didn't work.
Panting, he dipped back his head and clenched his teeth against a retort that would guarantee she blushed.
Blue coughed, and whimpered, "My wings won't unfurl."
Reith released a disparaging laugh. "Okay, Blue. Ye need to climb over me."
"What?"
"Clamp a hand abou' ma neck."
She complied.
"Now the ither."
She complied.
"Pull up."
"I can't!"
"Give it a wee muscle!" he said irritably.
She inched up.
"Hold fast—and pardon me," he added on a quick breath, slipped one hand beneath her, the other beyond her rounded bottom, linked his fingers at her groin, and pulled. It took excruciating seconds before she was fully out of the pool, sprawled on her back and gulping in air. Reith sat beside her, panting, his muscles cramping.
"How...how did ye get into the water?" he asked wearily.
"Fell in, how else."
"Yer welcome, Yer Majesty."
"Thank you," she muttered, and rolled onto her side away from him. Braced on elbows, she squinted at the beds some twenty feet away. The thought of dragging herself the distance choked her up with tears of frustration.
She gave a mute prayer of thanks when Reith lifted her into his arms, although his lassitude tweaked her conscience. He stepped upon one of the beds and sat with her across his lap, his head angled back and his eyes closed
.
"You may put me down now," she said, not intending to sound so cold and imperious, but unnerved to be in his arms.
His head slowly straightened, and through heavy eyelids he searched her features for an inordinately long time.
"Did you hear me?"
He nodded. "Engage yer wings."
She willed them forth. Again, in vain. "I have no power," she said, panic in her tone.
"Mine be gone as weel," he said tiredly.
"Put me down!"
His eyebrows lifted. "Do I detect a wee pettishness in yer eloquent voice, Yer Majesty?"
"Reith!" she snapped, then bit her lower lip at the slip.
"Ye do remember ma name," he said with mock surprise.
"Please...put me down."
He sighed theatrically. "It occurs to me, ma love, ye are at a disadvantage."
"Meaning what?" she said with a frown.
He shifted her more comfortably in his arms, and grinned. "Yer magic would have me on the wee side o' caution."
"What are you babbling about?"
"I can handle a nip, a slap...even a sound punch. Twould all be worth the prize."
Blue jabbed an elbow into his ribs. "You must have water on the brain!"
"Somethin' be a fact," he said, broadening the grin.
Suspicion clouded her eyes before they widened. "You wouldn't dare!"
With a nasty chuckle, he rolled to one side and maneuvered her beneath him. Her hands slapped to his bare shoulders and her arms locked straight to distance him. Undaunted, Reith braced himself on knees to each side of her outer thighs, his hands at the curvatures of her shoulders.
"I'm warning you, back off!" she cried, and turned her head aside when droplets of water dripped from his hair onto her face.
"Give me one good reason why I should."
"Because I don't want you!"
Reith snared her wrists and pinned them beside her head with a swiftness that startled her. She stared into the smoldering intensity in his eyes, her lungs refusing to accept air.
He lowered his head with deliberate slowness, whether to test or tease her, she wasn't sure.
His mouth was cold and damp at first contact. Blue flinched and shriveled within, and released a mewl of revulsion. She wasn't exactly clear when she realized she was lost in the kiss, when heat banished the cold, and she first clung to him. Through a dizzying haze of sensation, of rapture, the past lost its integrity in her mind and heart. Every song ever written sang through her blood.
Time Everlastin' Book 5 Page 21
