Torin heard a metallic click. Shaking his head, he stared at the locked door. This was going to be more difficult than he had hoped.
Chapter
Twenty-Three
The fiery blast shattered the peace of the sleepy valley, igniting an unsuspecting flock of sheep into a bleating mass of putrid smoke and dancing orange flames. Arach chuckled as an updraft expanded the tattered leather of his wings and vaulted him higher into the clouds. He adored the noise those senseless sheep made whenever they exploded. The sound distinctly reminded him of a bleating human screaming in pain.
The heat of the inferno searing through the valley wafted hot against the softer tiles of his underbelly. Arach brought his great black wings together in one graceful motion, fanning the super-heated air deeper into the unsuspecting valley below.
He spied a small village nestled at the far end of the verdant tunnel. “Just lovely,” Arach chuckled into the wind. The humans would soon swarm into their ridiculous vehicles, those strangely colored contraptions with the spouting tubes of water. Then they would frantically soak down the walls of their homes in the hopes of saving their meager possessions from his cleansing blasts. Naive mortals. They placed so much importance on the trivial items of their fragile little existence. They were foolish enough to value things easily destroyed, things easily replaced. Ifthe idiots had a flicker of sense, they would hie themselves from the valley and launch themselves into the ocean. Of course, if they did decide to take to the water, he’d just end their misery by calling up the kelpies.
Kelpies. Arach spread his wings and soared higher through the wispy clouds, narrowing his eye slits against the rushing wind streaming against his face. He had promised the kelpies a bit of pleasure after robbing them of their latest ship full of yowling mortals. Perhaps he should conjure a great storm to stir up a bit of chaos across the waters. Maybe that would please his watery friends. A good, stout, boat-foundering maelstrom would soothe the anger churning in their watery little hearts.
Of course, he really cared less if the annoying water demons were pleased or not and wouldn’t lay odds that the wicked things had anything close to resembling a heart. But it never hurt to have an ally or two in any reality, especially since this particular realm now held the likes of Torin. Arach folded his wings against his body and speared through a particularly damp bank of clouds stretching across the horizon. An ally could be useful in maintaining a tamed world, especially with a stone guardian chieftain and his unlikely apprentice lurking about the land.
A stone guardian chieftain. Arach snorted out a cloud of roiling black smoke as though trying to clear his nasal passages of debris. Damn that old woman. Foolish enough to believe he’d consider a chieftain, even Torin, a viable threat. How dare she think she could mention the guardian, ask Arach to leave, and he’d just tuck his tail and go. What the blazes did she think he was? Some cowardly lower level minion? Arach stretched out his wings and dove toward the ground, filling his gullet with an ember-fanning rush of wind until his belly scales separated into a swollen mass of pressurized air.
No. He would not go. And he also would not lessen his playtime in this delightful world just to make them think hehad gone. Arach unhinged his lower jaw and vomited a volley of blue white flames into the cluster of dwellings snuggled against the base of a velvety green hill. Tiny dots of humans streamed from the blazing buildings on the outer edges of the chaos. The unfortunate victims trapped in the epicenter of the blast were incinerated on impact.
Arach chuckled as he curled the length of his body upward through the smoke. Perhaps a tussle with the stone guardian chieftain would even provide an enjoyable distraction. Igniting unsuspecting humans had its advantages, but after a bit, it did grow to be quite boring. At least a meeting with a worthy foe would provide some sorely needed excitement.
Arach stretched his wings and pulled his heavy body higher into the sky. Perhaps it was time to lure the chieftain out, annoy him a bit by threatening something dear to the leader’s heart. Arach flapped his wings down and held them close to his body, rising higher through the azure blue layer of the sky into the darker silence of star-dusted space. Rolling onto his back, he stretched his forearms behind his horned head and relaxed into the floating weightlessness of the void. Yes. He could think here. Plan the game down to the last detail and perhaps even pay off his unspoken debt to those damnedable kelpies. With a chuckle, Arach closed his eyes. Life truly tasted much better when a bit of excitement loomed on the horizon.
Chapter
Twenty-Four
“Ididn’t expect to see ye this morning. Are ye feeling any better?” Alex’s deep voice echoed behind her as she shoved her bag into the cubbyhole behind the counter.
“I’m fine, thanks.” She wasn’t anywhere near fine, but she wasn’t about to relay her restless night to Dr. Alex Mackenzie or anyone else. She hadn’t slept, just stared at the ceiling, and burned with a mixture of humiliation and anger until the sun poked through the crack in her shutters.
“Ye look worse than ye did last night. The dark circles shining beneath your eyes remind me of those raccoons ye have in the States.”
“Thank you so much. With that silver tongue of yours, I’m amazed you’re still single.”
Moira choked on the tea she’d just sipped, sputtering as she set her cup on the counter and grabbed a tissue to press against her mouth.
“Ye need to be nice to me.” Alex leaned in closer and raised his clipboard to hide his whisper from Moira’s ears. “Ye’re going to be the death of poor old Moira.”
She wasn’t in the mood to be nice—especially not to any males. Torin’s pleading face sprang to mind, souring her disposition even further. “I’m not here to be nice and socialize. I’m here to work and help the children.”
“Ye are a fiery lass. I’ll give ye that,” Alex chuckled as he tossed the clipboard onto the desk and scooped a stack of charts off the counter. “Since ye say ye are doing much better, I’ll treat ye to lunch at the local pub.”
“Great,” Emma grumbled to his starched white back as he disappeared into exam room three. “That’s all I need, another man willing to do me a favor.”
“Would ye like some tea?” Moira whispered at her elbow. “Perhaps it would help ye feel better to have a bit of tea in your stomach before we get too busy. Ye don’t look well at all. And we could talk—if ye think that would help.”
Talk? Who was Moira kidding? The elderly woman was about to explode with curiosity. Her nosiness whistled like a screaming teakettle and it was a wonder a pair of twitching antennae hadn’t sprouted from the middle of her graying curls. “I’ve already had some coffee this morning, Moira. Thanks anyway.”
Moira’s shoulders sagged with a disappointed shrug. “Ye know sometimes a good talk can do ye a world of good.” Shuffling through the loose papers scattered across the desk, her mouth flattened into a thoughtful line. “And if it’s man troubles that are disturbing ye, old Moira might understand more than ye know. I was young once, ye understand.”
Emma pinched the bridge of her nose and pressed against the inside corners of her burning eyes. If she wasn’t so tired, Moira’s nudging would be amusing, but right now the prying old woman only succeeded in rubbing her fur the wrong way. “I’ll be fine, Moira. I’m going to have everything settled within a few days.” A few days. It shouldn’t take much longer than that tofigure out what the hell Torin needed from her, give it to him, and send him wherever it was he wanted to go.
“Aye. Well, I’m here if ye need me.” Moira waddled around from behind the counter with a long-spouted watering can. Waving the green spout toward the sparkling plate glass window of the waiting room, she nodded with a knowing grin. “It appears your friend from yesterday is here and has decided to stake his claim. Ye might want to reconsider lunch with Dr. Mac.”
“What are you talking about?” Emma shrugged into her lab coat as she wound through the multi-colored chairs scattered around the waiting room.
“He’s donned regular clothes today too. But even my old eyes can still pick out the fine figure of a guardian warrior.”
