Torin shrugged, nodding again toward the symbol on the child’s forehead. “She bears a star. A male would bear a bolt of lightning.”
Emma blew another breath into the cold pouting lips then peered closer at the baby’s forehead. She hadn’t noticed the mark before, a multi-pointed star shimmered silver right between the little girl’s closed eyes. “Her status doesn’t matter.” A grim sense of urgency clawed at her gut. The baby should’ve responded by now. Drawing in another deep breath, Emma smoothed the damp curls away from the child’s face. “Torin—she’s not coming around.”
Torin covered Emma’s hand with his. Power tingled into her; pure emotion charged from his touch. “Dinna give up on her just yet, Emma. It may take a bit longer to save one of the Fae.”
Renewed hope urged her on. Surely, Torin would know about the Fae. Emma drew in a deep breath and blew in the baby’s mouth again. Massage. Breathe. Massage. Breathe. Did she imagine the child’s body growing a bit warmer? Pressing her head against the little concave chest, Emma closed her eyes, straining to hear the faintest renewal of life. She held her breath, focusing every fiber of her being on detecting the slightest sound. A tiny patter sounded beneath her cheek. Pushing a gentle puff of air into the baby’s lungs one more time, elation fueled her with a jolt of energy as water suddenly sputtered and gurgled from the reviving baby’s mouth. A weak, piercing wail floated through the air as Emma held the baby face down and roughly massaged up and down the child’s narrow back.
Cu Sithpointed his nose to the sky and released a chilling howl across the whipping winds. The baby’s fretful cries ceasedas she turned her golden head and reached out her dimpled fingers toward the yowling beast.
“Give me your shirt, Torin,” Emma instructed as she turned the little one over and cradled the tot against her chest.
Torin peeled off his long-sleeved black sweater and held it out to Emma. “Her eyes are clear and the colors in her skin are returning to their proper glow. Ye did it, Emma.”
Emma swaddled the mewling baby into the soft black shirt, peering with interest into the child’s inquisitive, lavender-prismed eyes. “So, she’ssupposedto be this shade of iridescent silver?”
“Aye.” Torin’s voice quieted to an adoring whisper as he stroked a hesitant fingertip against the wriggling baby’s cheek. “She’s a royal from the bloodline of the mists. When ye see a rainbow shimmering after a storm, it is her clan who has painted the lovely colors against the sky.” His expression darkened as his thoughtful smile faded to a tight-lipped scowl. “The kelpies and the Fae’s of the mists have battled for eons. This one’s clan must’ve fallen. One so young would ne’er be left unguarded.”
Another eerie howl echoed across the coastline; the repeated cry drowned out the sound of the foam-filled waves crashing along the strand.
Dragging her gaze away from the fussing baby’s face, Emma frowned at the baying hound. “Why do you keep doing that? I’m not an expert on fairy babies but I think she’s going to be all right.” Emma hitched the tot higher up in her arms and snugged the shirt closer around the little one’s squirming body. From the increasing strength of the toddler’s churning legs, Emma felt sure the fairy child had successfully survived her ordeal.
“Tell her,”Cu Sithgrowled toward Torin then inhaled a great, chest-expanding breath and resumed his mournful howling.
“He calls for her people to come for her and—,” Torin cupped Emma’s face between his hands. “He is singing your praises across the realities.”
Chapter
Forty-Three
An insistent wail increased in pitch, jolting Emma from the unconscious depths of her weariness. Torin’s warm touch pressed her back into the pillows. His lips brushed her cheek as his husky whisper rasped through the half-light of the room. “Stay, Emma. I’ll get the wee lassie this time. Ye need some sleep.”
The thud of his feet hitting the hardwood floor as he dragged himself out of the bed convinced Emma to let Torin have a turn. For the past five days, their little house guest had fretted every hour like clockwork through the night until the first chimes of morning rang. As soon as the sun peeped over the horizon, her silvery lashes fell to her cheeks and she slept soundly through most of the day. Emma didn’t know what time zone spanned the land of the Fae but the baby’s days and nights didn’t match theirs.
Emma was too exhausted to go back to sleep. Working at the clinic each day after tending the baby all night was beginning to take its toll. She had a newfound respect for working mothers. How in the world did they function with little or no rest?
A tuneless song sprinkled with an odd Gaelic phrase here and there kept time with the baby’s hiccupping cries. Emma smiled.Poor Torin. He sang even worse than she did. Forcing open her weighted eyelids, she rolled to her side and propped herself on her elbow so she could watch him.
The displeased Fae princess fisted her little hands on Torin’s bare shoulder as he cradled her against his chest. Her golden curls tumbled over his outspread fingers as he supported her little head. With a bouncing walk keeping time with his humming tune, he paced back and forth through the patch of moonlight forcing the darkness from the room. The blue-white light streaming through the window colored his body in an eerie glow. The silver-tinged skin of the wailing Fae child sparkled as though the unhappy little girl had been dusted with ground diamonds.
As Torin’s tuneless song lilted through the night, the baby’s fussing diminished to an occasional grumble every few minutes. But her round dark eyes remained wide open. There wasn’t a hint of sleepiness in her alert, little face.
Emma smiled at Torin’s contented expression. Chin tucked. Eyes partially closed. A half-smile played across his weary face. Her heart pulled at the gentle way he cuddled the child, trying to convince the baby to sleep. Half-closing her eyes, Emma indulged in a rare fantasy. Maybe this is what it would’ve been like if she had ever met someone and had children of her own. A cozy little house. A thoughtful husband helping with their fussy baby. If only. Jerking her eyes wide open, Emma shoved the tempting dream from her mind. It was too late. That life wasn’t meant for her. She might as well not even think about it.
Torin’s pacing stopped and his eyes flew open. Even in the darkness, Emma could see the pain shining from their depths.
“Emma. It is not too late. Dinna condemn yourself to a life of solitude. That is nay your path.”
His whispered words chilled her to the bone. She had scolded him before about reading her mind. He knew better. What elsedid the scarred warrior know about the insecurities spinning through her mind? “I have asked you not to do that.”
Emma scooted to the end of the bed, folding her legs as she pulled herself upright and propped an elbow on each knee. Leaning against her clasped hands, she stifled a jaw-cracking yawn. “Stop reading my mind. Period.”
Torin took another lap through the moonlight, smiling down at the now-cooing child squirming in his arms. “I didna read your mind, my heart. Your emotions echo through the darkness much louder than thoughts or words.” Settling on the end of the bed beside her, Torin shifted the Fae princess to a sitting position in the crook of his arm. “We could have this happiness, Emma. This simple joy could someday be ours.”
Uncertainty panged through Emma’s being steadier than her heartbeat. No matter how much she longed to believe those words, she just couldn’t see how it could ever be. She had waited too long and now her life had spun out of control in some sort of hocus-pocus mess. How could she ever know something as simple as hearth, home, and a family? “No, Torin. I may be a lot of things, but the main thing I am is realistic.”
Holding out both hands toward the wide-eyed baby, Emma blinked the threat of tears from her eyes. “Give her to me and get some rest. I’m wide-awake with all this confusion in my head, and I want to enjoy her as much as I can. I’m sureCu Sithwill find her family soon and we’ll have to give her back.”
Torin’s lips tightened into a disapproving line. His face darkened as he stared down at the child. “Why will ye not listen to me, Emma? Why won’t ye trust in what I say?”
