“Did you tell him I was with a patient?” Emma pressed a guiding hand to the fretting mother’s shoulder and led her to the chair beside the examination table.
“I did,” Moira bit out the words with an insulted huff as though Emma had just maligned her character by questioning her abilities. Her lips flattened into an irritated line as she jerked her head toward the outer hall. “He wouldna besatisfieduntil I told ye he needed to speak with ye right away.”
It had to be Torin. Who else would be brave enough to risk Moira’s wrath? Emma adjusted the ice pack around the child’s arm and patted her on the shoulder. “I’ll be right back. Decide if you want hot pink or electric blue for your cast, and we’ll get your arm wrapped up when I return.”
“I don’t want pink.” The little girl wrinkled her nose as though she smelled a stink.
“Oh, Matilda,” her mother groaned. “Just once, can ye no’ act like a little girl? Just once for your dear old mum?”
Biting her lower lip to keep from chuckling, Emma winked at Matilda as she closed the door. Heading down the hallway, she decided it would truly be wonderful if she could guess the lottery numbers with as much accuracy as she had when it came to anything regarding Torin. He waited just inside the entryway and from the scowl darkening his face, something was terribly wrong.
“What’s wrong?”
“It’sCu Sith. He’s saved a wee bairn from the kelpies but it doesna look good.” Torin waved her forward, urging her down the hall. “We must make haste. It may already be too late.”
Emma didn’t know who or what aCu Sithwasbut she had read of the mythological kelpies, and their delight in leading mortals to a watery death. Adrenaline surged through every cell of her body.A wee bairn. A baby?
Emma shouted to Moira as they rushed out the door, “I’ll be right back. Get the triage room ready.” Rushing down the steps beside Torin, she scanned the empty parking lot. “Where is he? Why didn’t you bring the child to the clinic? Everything I might need to help the baby is right here.”
Torin shook his head as he took her arm and pulled her toward the rocky coastline. “Cu Sithrefused to let me take the child. He says it belongs to the Fae and must be kept as pure as possible. The bairn must be shielded from the taint of the mortal’s world.”
Stumbling over the rocky ground, Emma yanked her arm out of Torin’s frantic grip and came to an abrupt halt. “What do you mean it belongs to the Fae? Are you telling me this child isn’t human?”
Torin’s eyes flashed as they creased into impatient slits. “Are ye tellin’ me ye will abandon the child if it isna mortal? Are ye sayin’ the life of an innocent babe, no matter what its race, means nothing to ye?”
“No. Of course not.” How could he say such a thing? “I would never abandon any child—no matter what race…er…species. Whatever it is!” Anger fanned the flames of adrenaline already pumping through her, and a surge of heat burned across her cheeks. Why did Torin have such a strange look on his face? Like he was struggling against some sort of unpleasant memory?
“Then come.” He held out his hand, his body held stiff as though he were about to explode. Pain darkened his troubled eyes. A vein pulsed above his locked jaw as he flinched against the wind in his face.
Emma drew in a shaking breath. She meant what she said. It didn’t matter what the baby was—the child still needed help. Picking their way down the rough, steep slope, Emma scanned the jagged, windswept shoreline. “I don’t see anything. Are you sure he’s still here?”
“He’s right there.” The muscles of Torin’s squared jaw rippled as he stared straight ahead.
Emma followed the direction of his gaze. The rock-lined grotto appeared empty. The strand of beach hugging the sharp-edged rocks of the cliffs was nothing but a narrow expanse of wet sand broken with what appeared to be over-sized paw prints from a very large dog. The bitter wind whipped her hair across her face and misted her lips with the salt of the sea. “There is nothing here, Torin. Are you sure we’ve come to the right place?”
“Cu Sith, she canna help what she canna see,” Torin shouted across the gorge, raising his voice over the deafening pound of the surf.
A long-eared hound with a black and tan coat shimmered into view. Between his enormous front paws rested a tiny bundle—a very still, tiny bundle.
Emma hurried down the rocks, damning the razor sharp obstacles slowing her descent. Glancing at the motionless blanket at the dog’s feet, she wished she had brought her bag. Her fingers itched for the tools of her trade.
The bundle still hadn’t moved. An uneasy sense of dread hurtled her adrenaline into high gear. As she stumbled forward, she kept her gaze fixed on the soggy gray blanket. If only she’d see the slightest movement stir the sand encrusted folds. Even the merest twitch would be so welcome. Emma yearned for the smallest sign that the child might be alive.
Dropping to her knees in front of the still form, she peeled the seaweed-covered blanket aside. Her breath caught in her chest. The sight of the pale child, lifeless and limp in the soggy bundle placed a strangle hold around her throat with a relentless grip of dread.
Pale golden lashes rested on the baby’s blue-tinged skin. Soaked yellow curls were plastered across the wide forehead and the sides of an endearing, heart-shaped face. Tiny full lipspuckered beneath a pert little nose centered between chubby toddler cheeks. Emma’s heart lurched. What a beautiful baby. Probably just a year old. Maybe. Who knew the maturity rate for the child’s kind?
She felt for a pulse, gritting her teeth at the cold, lifeless response lying still beneath her fingertips.Dammit!Ripping away the blanket, she scooped up the limp gray body and turned the child face down across her arm.
“Can ye save her?” The dog growled out the words; his drooping ears perked forward toward the baby.
“I d-don’t know,” Emma stammered while massaging the baby’s back. She didn’t have time to speculate on the odds. She just knew for certain that she sure as hell was going to try. Plopping down in the wet sand, she rested the toddler across her lap. Prying open the child’s pale blue lips and pinching the button nose between two fingers, she expelled a gentle breath into the little girl’s mouth. She massaged her chest, then breathed into her again. Massage. Breathe. Massage. Breathe. She settled into the tireless rhythm as irritated determination knotted in her chest.
The bone-chilling wind slammed against her as she bent over the baby’s body. The only positive she saw right now in the entire situation was the freezing temperature of the water and this damned cold air. Hypothermia might save the child if she could just get that little heart re-started. Glancing at the wet eyelashes shining on the cold pale cheeks, Emma sent up a silent prayer.Please let what works for human babies work for the young of the Fae.
Torin squatted at her side, staring unblinking at the limp form cradled in Emma’s arms. Nodding toward the baby’s face, he lowered his voice to a hoarse whisper, “The bairn is the child of one of the royals. I recognize her mark.”
“Her?” Emma raised her head from the baby’s mouth. “You both keep saying her. How do you know it’s a her just from looking at her face?”
