Across the parking lot, Torin sat on a bench beneath the branches of a sprawling oak. In place of his kilt, his bulging thighs stretched the limits of a dark pair of fitted jeans. A snug black tee shirt also strained across his expanse of chest. His well-muscled arms flexed when he crossed them over his body while he tapped the toes of a pair of fine leather boots with an impatient rhythm.
In spite of herself, Emma ached for him. Heat surged through her, threatening to stir glowing embers of need into a full-blown inferno of desire. Damn him for making her feel this way, for making her want him all over again.He’s only using you. He just needs you to get back to his fairyland beyond those stupid veils he mentioned.She had to keep the truth at the forefront of her thoughts. It had only been sex to him and she was nothing more than a means to his desired end.
“Ignore him. He’ll be gone in a few days.” Turning from the window, Emma straightened her collar with an irritated yank. She swallowed hard and tried to ignore the stirring of hurt and disappointment squeezing through her. What the hell was wrong with her? So, they’d had sex. So, what.
Wondrous, passionate, mind-melding sex,whispered the imaginary demon on her shoulder.
“I doubt that from the stubborn look on his face,” Moira observed. “Who is he?” Her gray head bobbed side to side as she stretched on tiptoe to improve her view while watering the trailing ivy overflowing from the window box.
“He’s no one important.” Emma tossed over her shoulder before slamming the door to exam room one.
Chapter
Twenty-Five
Torin shifted on the bench and rubbed both palms against the stiff trews constricting his protesting muscles. If he had ever doubted it before, he knew for sure now. He didna belong in a world where a man’s cock was forced to struggle for air. He had seen few kilts while he walked the island, and it appeared these days that it was mostly women wearing the lovely plaids. Why in the world had men given up such a feeling of freedom to suffer such uncomfortable clothes?
“’Tis the way of this time. A combined result of history and the mixing of many cultures,” said a husky voice floating just beyond his right shoulder as if drifting on the passing wind.
“I canna believe ye are out among so many mortals,Cu Sith. Do ye not fear ye’ll be discovered?” Torin kept his gaze centered across the street on the windows of the clinic, glinting with the final rays of the setting sun.
“Most mortals of this time no longer believe in the Fae or the magic of our dimension. When they see my paw prints marking the sand, they shrug them off as those of a stray dog.” The bench shook and the wooden slats beside Torin creaked as if a heavy weight had just settled on them.
“So ye still wander among them?” Torin shifted again, tugging at the crotch of the skin-tight jeans.Hell’s fire!That damnedable seam was about to cut his bollocks in two.
“Aye. Since they dinna believe in the Fae, they explain me away as a homeless cur.” A long-eared hound with black and tan coloring shimmered into view on the seat of the bench. “When I speak, they hear nothing but whines and growls because I make it so.”
“Not even the children?”
The dog’s mouth split into a panting smile, his tongue lolled out one side between yellowed teeth. “Ah—the wee ones know me for what I am, and they understand everything about me. But the adults think it is only their imagination. They’ve lost the magic from their lives. It is truly quite sad.” He rested an oversized paw on Torin’s leg. “Ye do realize if ye had manifested trews in a larger size, ye wouldna be so miserable?”
“I shall be fine,” Torin snapped. “’Tis just a matter of getting used to wearing the uncomfortable things until I escape this world.” How dareCu Sithhint that he might be a wee bit vain. Torin shifted on the bench again and cast a fuming glance at the grinning dog.
“We’ve all sensed your troubles,”Cu Sithgrowled. “Ye shouldha never lain with the woman before ye told her what ye needed.”
Torin scrubbed his face with an irritated swipe of one hand, the stranglehold of the jeans forgotten. “Do not tell me what I already know. I fully realize she thinks I’ve just used her to fill my needs. I couldna make her understand. ’Tis different now. I find her so very…different.” If the fairy dog decided he must make his presence known, the least he could do was provide some useful information.
“Aye.” The hound nodded. “Any fool can see her heart is pure. No wickedness surrounds this lass as it did your conniving Eilean.”
Realization of foolish choices grated through him like a rusty blade. “I know now of the mistakes I made in the past. I shouldha opened my eyes.”
“Dinna waste your days drowning in regret. ’Tis the past that has led ye to this place. All things happen for a reason, Torin, even though the reasons are sometimes not apparent for quite some time.” The gangly dog lumbered off the bench and shook his body until his velvety ears clapped about his head. “I came to warn ye that ye best make haste and see that she understands ye dinna merely want her for her power. Another man vies for her hand and neither of ye will be safe from Arach for verra much longer. Luckily for ye, the man inside that clinic is a bigger fool about finding the words to speak his heart than ye are. At the speed with which he’s able to convey his interest; the beast will have already destroyed this world and ye and her along with it.” After a slow glance up and down the street, the dog shimmered and faded out of view. “We will help ye all we can, Torin. But ye’d best make her need only yourself before that human finds the right words and this world is lost to Arach’s destruction.”
Chapter
Twenty-Six
Arach closed his eyes and tried to concentrate.Great gads.He shifted six of his feet farther apart and steadied his stance on the rock. How damned long had it been?Ages.That’s how long it had been since he’d bothered to shift into the In-Between. He squinted his eye slits tighter shut and exhaled. He hated the vile peacefulness of the In-Between, but it couldn’t be helped. No amount of subtle cloaking in the human’s reality would shield him from Torin’s senses. Only by hiding in the void between the planes could he close in on the crafty stone guardian without revealing himself until he was absolutely ready.
A sizzling hiss crackled through the air and flickered all around his body. Stinging electricity shook through his scales and sparked blue lines of popping lasers between his horns.
Dammit! He’d forgotten to lower the temperature of the inferno simmering deep within his gullet. The delicate aura of the In-Between barricaded itself against any type of weapon. As long as the molten embers glowed hot in his belly, he would never achieve passage into the peaceful realm.
He submerged his snout deep into the icy waters of the cove and sucked in a great gulp of the sea. He forced down gallons ofseaweed-laced water into the pouch of simmering coals located just above his first stomach.
Steam roiled in great white billows out his nose and mouth. The stinging heat of the vaporized saltwater threw him into a sneezing fit. Bits of algae and hordes of silver wriggling fish blasted out of each nostril. Lore, he hated the feel of cold seawater bubbling in his nose. Damn the rules of the In-Between.
Shaking his head as he snorted out the remaining muck, Arach raked his paws against the sides of his muzzle and wiped the condensation from his eyes. With a great smacking of his lips, he huffed out an irritated growl as he spat a tangled glob of seaweed and shells on the ground.Hell’s bane!It would take him a week to get that taste out of his mouth.
