“I know what I know.” Moira sniffed. Wounded pride pulled down the corners of her mouth. “And if there is one thing I’man expert on, it’s the history of my birthplace.” With an irritated grunt, Moira stooped to gather a scattered handful of multi-colored ink pens still spinning across the floor. “Ye’ve never heard of recent earthquakes here because we know that’s not what’s shaking the land. The isle trembles whenever the beast stirs from the bowels of his lair. Mark my words, Dr. Emma; a terrible disaster looms on the horizon. It happens after every shaking of the ground and has become much more frequent of late.”
Emma clamped her mouth shut. The determined look on Moira’s face stifled any further arguments. It was useless. No matter what scientific data Emma provided, it was obvious –Moira wouldn’t buy it.
The stubborn old woman shook her head again with firm certainty before Emma even had the chance to say another word. Obviously, Moira believed some sort of monster shook the ground whenever he awoke from his nap. Or at least whenever he decided to wander around the island. Emma had read about the Scot’s phenomenal belief in superstitions. She sighed as she tapped the edges of the mess of papers on the desk until the wad settled into a neat pile. Looks like she had her work cut out for her here in more ways than one.
Chapter
Eight
“It is time, Arach. Ye have served yer purpose here. Time for ye to go back through the portals and torment this world no more.” TheCailleach’s solemn voice rumbled like distant thunder atop the ocean breeze wafting across the face of the cliff.
“Go?” Arach pulled an eye open. Hoisting his head slowly from atop his folded arms, he shook it hard from head side to side. The worrisome midges buzzing around his oozing jowls scattered into the air. “Why would I wish to leave such a fertile hunting ground?”
Belching a bug-zapping blaze out of one nostril, Arach curled his snake-like beard back over one shoulder. “I will admit; I’ve grown a bit bored with the ease of the kills, but I am nay the fool. Better to grow fat from the meat of an easy kill than become thin by utter choosiness for a particular prey.” If the nagging old woman thought he was going anywhere other than off this ledge to stir a bit of mischief across her lands, then the ancient spirit of the moors had lost her mind. Life was good here. Delicious mortals abounded. He wasn’t about to leave this world.
Lightning flickered through swollen layers of gray clouds hanging low across the horizon. “It is time for ye to move on to the next reality. Your purpose here is fulfilled.”
“Mypurpose?” Arach chuckled and extended a lethal foreclaw under his curled lip in search of another annoying piece of rotted meat wedged between his fangs. “I decide my purpose here, old woman. Not you.”
“Ye were allowed to breach the portal of this realm because the mortals here sorely needed a cleansing. Ye did well. Ye purged the land. Time now for ye to move on.”
“Allowed?” Arach straightened until the top of his horned head brushed against the uneven ceiling of the entry to the lair. “No oneallowsme anything, old woman. Do ye truly think me a fool? I would’ve easily mastered the magic of the portal with or without your help. Ye merely guided me to this world. Ye know in the heart of your very essence that I would’ve eventually found it without ye. Ye take far too much credit for the lovely destruction we’ve both enjoyed over the years.”
Hooking his taloned paws over the protruding curve of the ledge, Arach stretched his tattered wings to their fullest span. With a nod toward a mottled curlicue tattooed across the inside of his foremost right wing, Arach heated the mark with a well-aimed snort until the stained flesh took on an inky sheen. “Do ye see that mark, old woman? Do ye have the foggiest idea what it means?”
“I am well aware of your status, Arach. Dinna bore me with your presumptuous theatrics. Do ye truly think I would allow entry of anything into this world other than the highest ranking of the ancient demons? I chose carefully for a proper cleansing of my beloved land.”
“Ye allowed nothing, ye pompous bitch.” The coals in his gullet churned with restless fury, arming for inevitable combustion. How dare theCailleachtake airs with him, Arach,reaper and annihilator of all worlds scattered among the portals. “I tire of your nattering, old woman. Leave my presence now or risk stirring my ire until I find it necessary to destroyallyour pets.”
“Fine, Arach. Do as ye will. But ye should know that I will soon awaken him.”
“Who?”
“Ye know exactly who. He bested ye once before.”
“Ah.” Arach sucked in a belly-stretching breath. “Him.” Arach squinted one eye closed as he tilted his head to scratch a particularly bothersome itch behind his left horn. “I do not fear him or anyone else for that matter. I am no longer the inexperienced lower demon Torin once battled.”
“I would much rather ye leave this place of your own accord, Arach. It would be far better if ye made the choice willingly and passed through the magic without force. Ye have destroyed much in this world that I would’ve preferred ye left unharmed.”
Arach curled back his lips and released a warning blaze out across the choppy surface of the ocean. “I dinna give a damn about your druthers,Cailleach. Neither my existence nor my pleasures are any of your concern.”
A despondent sigh floated across the rising wind like a moaning echo through the caverns. “So, it shall be then, wicked Arach. Ye leave me little choice.”
Arach allowed himself a gloating smile as he settled his leathery wings down into ratty folds across his spiked back. “Ye made yer choice centuries ago, old woman. ’Tis the price pay when dealing with the devil.”
Chapter
Nine
Emma cranked the sound louder on the television to drown out the barest hint of crashing waves pounding against the beach. Much better.With the windows shuttered, the curtains drawn and the TV blaring, she couldn’t hear the ocean at all.
Padding her way into the kitchen, she hesitated in front of the television as the screen exploded with the latest film footage of a raging fire somewhere on the island. Orange flames licked in and out of rolling black smoke streaming from a row of houses. Yellow-coated men scrambled with gray-white fire hoses snaking across the ground. Billows of steam rose from the inferno as the jets of water evaporated from the intense heat surrounding the buildings. Barely controlled chaos clamored in the background of the news announcer’s voice.
Moira’s warning echoed through her thoughts as a swirling orange ball of flames flew across the screen and exploded into a stand of already smoldering buildings. The roaring inferno definitely met her definition of disaster. Emma swallowed hard and blinked against a sense of gnawing uncertainty fueled by the carnage on the screen.
A slight movement in the upper portion of the video caught Emma’s attention. Edging closer to the TV, she bent until she stood eye level with the screen and peered at the odd-looking, winged form outlined against the swirling sky. As she watched, the strange figure disappeared into the roiling black smoke. Emma shivered with a strange sense of recognition at the long-tailed apparition sporting a pair of tattered, bat-like wings.
She grabbed her cell phone off the back of the couch and punched in Moira’s speed dial number. Moira had recounted many times that she and Alfred watched the local news with religious fervor. When Moira answered, excitement stalled Emma’s words on her tongue because the demonic-looking lizard with ratty black wings had just emerged back out of the clouds. Blinking hard, Emma pressed the phone closer to her mouth as Moira’s third curthellobroke her words free. “Moira! Are you watching the news?”
