With a quiet sigh,Seonaidhshook his head. “No. She was just a wee babe when her mother walked into the sea and gave herself to the kelpies.”
“Foolish woman. Why would she do such a thing when she had been chosen as a mother to a stone guardian?”
“Did ye not try to takeyourown life when ye felt things had not gone your way?”
Torin flinched. He glared atSeonaidhwith a go-to-hell look he hoped would dry the water sprite in his tracks. “Enough. Ye obviously sought me out for a reason. What is it?”
Rippling his fingers through his silvery hair,Seonaidh’s image started fading from view. “TheCailleachbade me come and show ye the woman’s past since ye didna have the sense to seek the knowledge on your own. The old woman of the moors has great plans for the two of ye. Ye had best accept it and get on wi’ your fate.”
“To hell with ye both,” Torin retorted, asSeonaidhdisappeared into the blowing rain.
Chapter
Sixteen
Adifferent scent tinged the air. One he had not enjoyed in centuries. Arach raised his snout a bit higher into the wind and sucked in a great lungful of the delightful aroma flavoring the brine-scented breeze.Stone guardians. His mouth watered as the delicious fragrance of their elemental magic wafted across his senses. He hadn’t dined on the bones of a juicy stone guardian in well over nine hundred years.
Excellent!The old woman hadn’t been foolish enough to attempt a weak bluff. She had truly brought Chieftain Torin into this century for his own hunting pleasure. Well. Perhaps not for that specific reason but the fact remained that the chieftain was here. Arach chuckled as he swiped his tongue out, wet his bulging lips, and sniffed the air again. Yes. He recognized that particular stench anywhere. A shiver of excitement rippled down the shimmering scales folded against the ridge of his spine. And what was that? Yes. From the scent of it, a younger guardian accompanied Torin. A satisfied purr escaped Arach’s throat. He could hardly wait. New magic held its own special sweetness.
Stretching his winding body out of the cave, Arach scrabbled across bits of bones and loose rocks to his favorite sunning spot on the tip of the ledge. Crossing his scaly forearms onthe sun-warmed rocks protruding over the water, he settled his girth comfortably on the jutting shelf. He lifted his twitching nose again and sucked in another tantalizing taste of the rising wind. Yes. He was certain of it now. His belly rumbled in excited anticipation. Stone guardian flesh tasted especially sweet when slow roasted just enough to bring their blood to almost boiling. His mouth over-flowed with bubbling saliva, globs of steaming spittle rolled down his chin. The rare magic seasoning a guardian’s veins was as intoxicating as wine.
He licked his lips, reveling in the rare fragrance. Rubbing his claws together in anticipation, another excited shiver rippled through Arach’s scales. He would have to remember to thank the old witch. Such generosity. Gifting him with not one delicious morsel, but two. Arach combed his claws through the writhing tentacles hanging from his chin. Who could the young one be and where had that particular guardian hidden all this time? He distinctly remembered feasting on the last of Torin’s clan well over an eon ago.
Arach extended a talon and wound a slippery tentacle around the base of the scaly appendage until the writhing mess formed a neatly stacked coil at the base of his jaw. Stone guardians. Finally. A rare prey worthy of stalking. And from the heightened scent of Torin’s aura on the wind, the chieftain’s body pulsed with adrenaline and something else. Arach released the coiled tentacle to wriggle down the front of his chest and stretched to turn his face full into the wind. What was it? Desire for a mate, perhaps?
Arach closed his eyes and angled back his great, scaled head to better catch the fleeting warmth of the sun. He flipped his multi-spined tail with a lazy rhythm back and forth across the ledge, smacking his lips as the memory of the last guardian he’d eaten blossomed across his tongue. Chieftain Torin. Whatdelightful torments could he come up with for the reunion with his special friend?
Arach searched his memories, recalling the excitement of the hunt when he’d first broken through the portal and ravaged the magical clans. Another throaty purr rumbled up through his gullet at the memories stirred. Ah yes.A wondrous time of bloodletting and destruction. He returned his claws to his tentacled beard, stroking the undulating strands. Arach barely opened his eyes. The swirling colors of the murky green waves through his slightly parted eye slits reminded him a great deal of his victims’ eyes when they opened wide with fear.
Arach frowned as he sorted through the memories. Torin had been absent those many years ago. No chieftain had been among the people. There had been none to guide the clan. He remembered it clearly now. The people panicked, became lost, and scattered because they had no one to focus their power or direct their magic.
Rolling over, Arach exposed his belly scales to the setting sun and stretched his forearms above his head. Where could Torin have been? What could’ve possibly tempted the man away from the adoration of his people? Arach’s ancestors had warned him to watch for the stone guardian chieftain. They’d spoken of the man’s fearlessness and his ability to wield a sword. Arach frowned as he scraped a broken horn against the stony side of the cliff. He’d discovered firsthand in the briefest of encounters with the chieftain that his ancestors hadn’t lied. Torin’s swordplay had cost him centuries of ravaging worlds while waiting for a damaged wing to heal. Arach smiled as another chuckle tickled up from his gullet. He had repaid the chieftain in kind and then some. Sight would never return to the man’s right eye.
But when Arach had pushed his way through the gateway, the infamous man was nowhere among his clan. Arach hadn’ttroubled himself about it at the time. He smiled as he remembered the ease of decimating the clan. But now the chieftain had somehow surfaced. Arach sucked in a deep, satisfied breath. Finally.He was ready for a little excitement.
Arach nestled his horns more comfortably on his folded arms and exhaled a relaxing sigh. A confrontation with Torin would be more than welcome. He no longer feared the threat of such a man since evolving from a lower level beast into a high-level demon. Arach stretched again and ran a claw beneath the scales along his belly, scratching the tender flesh beneath. Much had happened over the centuries. Maturity had honed his powers. The thicker scales at the base of his wings chinked with a series of metallic thuds as his body shook with deep satisfied laughter. He had no reason to fear the chieftain now.
Arach closed his eyes and anchored the tip of his tail around a boulder jutting out of the edge of the cliff. There. Perfect.Now, if he relaxed a bit too much while he slept, he wouldn’t slide off into the water. He loathed the sting of salt water under his slime-encrusted scales. With a jaw-cracking yawn, he settled more contentedly among the rocks.
With the prospect of an exciting hunt on the horizon, perhaps he would dream of the thrilling past and relive the wondrous terror that had flowed red across the land with the blood wine of his victims. When he finished his afternoon nap, maybe he would search out the stone guardian chieftain. After all, it was only good manners to seek out his old friend and give Torin a proper hello.
Chapter
Seventeen
“We were beginning to get a bit worried about ye.” Moira looked up from behind the registration desk as Emma blew through the double doors of the clinic.
“I’m sorry I’m late. Between that crappy car I rented and this driving rain, I think I could’ve walked here faster.” Emma propped the remains of her shredded umbrella in the corner and shook at least a gallon of water from her fully saturated coat. Water. Ugh! She hated the stuff. It caused her nothing but trouble.
Moira scurried to peel Emma’s dripping coat from her shoulders, clucking her tongue with a motherly sound as she looked down at Emma’s shoes. “Your soaked to the skin and will surely catch your death. Do ye not have anything proper to wear when the weather gets a bit damp?”
“Abitdamp?” Emma shivered, scrubbing her palms up and down her wet arms. Maybe if she rubbed hard enough, she’d increase the blood flow and generate a bit of warmth. “I’d call this monsoon a little more than a bit damp.”
“Perhaps ye’d best return to the sunshine of your homeland if ye find our bit of rain too harsh for your sensibilities.” Dr. Mackenzie emerged from exam room one, his gaze on the clipboard in his hands.
Emma smiled her best predatory smile. Apparently, the good doctor enjoyed the risk of being either very brash or very stupid first thing in the morning. In the black mood she was in, she would take no prisoners. “You’re not going to get rid of me that easily, Dr. Mackenzie. I signed up to get this clinic well underway, and I’m going to stay here until it’s done.”
“Then I suggest ye plan on dining with me tonight.” Alex glanced up; his dark eyes unreadable as his pen tapped out a rapid-fire rhythm against the edge of the clipboard.
