“How did ya dae that?”
“It's an ability I have. We transport at will, by thought.”
“That's how ye disappeared earlier?”
I nod, nibbling my lip, worried I've just done the one thing that will send him running for the hills.
Rubbing his thighs where I held him, as if dissipating the imminent bruise, he smiles, “That's pretty cool.”
Sitting straight, awareness hits me a second too late. The scent of the spy reached me before we vanished.
“Whit? Yer eyes are glowin' again. I'm taeking that as a sign of emotional distress. Whit can ye sense?”
“It was Roddie. Does he know how to find us? Does he know which rock is ours?”
“Roddie?” He's frowning, brushing the long hair off his face with obvious agitation. “Naw, I dinnae think so. How could he?” Reaching out he holds my knee with a solid grip, “We're miles away from where we were. He'll never find us now.”
“Good,” I breathe with relief, sitting back again to stare out at the sheer slope and the mountains scrolling around us.
“We fergot our beers again,” he grumbles, relaxing next to me, balancing his elbows on his tented knees and glaring moodily out at the night.
Thinking of them left side by side where our legs pressed into damp earth, I capture and manifest them into my hands, concentrating to make them cold and handing him the fullest one.
“Thanks. I think I'm still processing this tae be honest.”
Pressure sits in my chest as I survey him with worry. I'm regretting telling him. He's nice, I wanted to keep him, I really did. I've ruined it all. Inside he's probably trying to figure out how to get away from me.... alive.
“I won't hurt you. We believe in free will. I will never force you to do anything, I promise,” I reassure him.
Snatching his gaze off the dark scenery still wrapped in burqas of drifting fog, he arches both eyebrows. “I'm no' afraid of ye, Ellie. And fer the record I'm a teuchter, ye cannae make me dae anything I dinnae want tae dae anyhow.”
Slugging a quick taste of my brew, I ask softly, keeping my tone low, “ Chooghta?”
“Teuchter is the common name fer a highlander. We didnae inspire movies without good reason. We're fierce, just test us and ye'll soon find out what we're capable of.”
In a bid to reclaim normality I try changing the subject, “So, why are you wearing a shell?”
Looking up into the eternal depths of the sky, the gloss of his eyes reflect vapid light, turning them into convex mirrors.
“My mother gave it tae me. She didnae want me tae come tae the woods or tae get lost exploring the streams.” His tone is secretive, as if he's sharing an enormous yoke with me. “Ellie, here in Scotland we have tales of creatures who belong tae other realms. The Shellycoat wears a coat of shells, warning people of his presence. It shakes and rattles where he walks up and down rivers and streams, keen tae mislead a wanderer. He tricks ye intae believing yer on the right path, but he'll lead ye astray. I'm wearing it as protection...”
And I know... In my heart, in my soul, deep in my ever after, Douglas is afraid of me. He knew before my eyes shone. He just
knew
I was different and he was afraid I'd lead him to his death.
Swallowing the hard lump choking me, wringing my hands tightly, I look away from him, out over the shimmering loch while the wind wheezes through the trees behind us, “I'm not a monster, Doug. I have feelings too.”
“Aye,” he nods. “Ellie, I'm human no matter who ma ancestors wed. Dinnae persecute me fer protectin' ma heart, ma life. Tae some folk it's pish, a load of nonsense tae scare wee bairns, but tae some of us we dinnae disregard it. Tae some of us we take precautions. My maw loved me, she gave it tae me tae keep me safe. I dinnae want tae get lost in your realm.”
“What realm? Doug, I live in the same world you do.”
“The fey realm. C'mon, ye showed it tae me back there when ye opened the entrance tae yer secret road.”
“What exactly do you think I am?” I ask in a whisper. He said he knows what I am, but is he right in his assumption?
“Sidhe. Yer a faery.”
“I'm not shee–”
“Aye, ye
are
Sidhe. They look human, but they shine. They're beautiful and sexy, and... I know yer one of 'em. Ye dinnae need tae pretend anymore. It's in ma blood, which is mebbe why I felt it when I first saw ye. Ellie, yer eyes glow, that makes ye faery in ma book.”
He's wearing an amulet to protect himself from me. Subconsciously he knew. He's way more astute and perceptive than ninety-nine percent of the humans I've met. None of them have made me before, and yet somehow he did just fishing and traipsing through the woods. How? What gave me away? And what's with the warrior speech? Does he think I'm going to attack him?
“I threaten you. I do, or you wouldn't feel the need to say that to me,” I state.
“Ellie ye don't threaten me. Fer heaven's sake lass I just want tae shut ye up with a kiss. I've been tryin' tae get one all night and sumthin' keeps happenin' whenever I try.”
Before I can make a single move, he rants at me, sitting forward and gesticulating with both hands, “Somethin' else ye should know about us. Caledonia is named efter the goddess Cailleach. She's got a lot in common with Sgathach, and ye remind me of her. We revere wimen and their contribution. I'm no' intimidated by ye and I'm no' afraid of the faeries.”
“I never said you were–”
“Ellie,” he shakes my shoulders, gripping my arms at the top, his drink clamped between his thighs, “Listen tae me. My clan, the last chief we had was a wiman. In the past our wimen fought side by side with their men. We're no' afraid of strong females who know how tae fight. We're different here. Dinnae think fer one second that I find yer strength or abilities strange. Yer no' peculiar tae me. Yer perfect.”
This moment is perfect too. It's wrapping me up in delicious anticipation, but I can't, not yet. I've been honest with him and if anything he seems more adamant than ever to stick around. Which means I have to take the final hurdle.
Clearing my throat, I whisper, “I'm not a fairy.”
Releasing my arms, looking exasperated with me, he wedges his fingers into his hair to just stare at me, elbows propped back on his knees. “Oh yeah? Then what are ye?”
“A... a....” My courage fails and I look despondently down at the drink cradled between my idle fingers.
“What Ellie?” whispers into my ear, his heat pressured by his body into my side, using a finger to loop my hair behind my ear before he kisses under it, soft lips pressing into my neck.
It's so distracting that my entire body goes weak.
I can't think straight.
“Tell me lass, before I tickle it outtae ye.”
“Vaah... vaa...” Swallowing thickly, opening my eyes to stare into the black leather cladding his shoulder, I mumble, “Vampyre.”
Snapping back, holding me at arm's length, he scours me with his incredulous gaze, “Verra funny. Ye had me there fer a second.”
My heart is breaking. This is going to ruin everything.
Blinking back tears, I fail, sniffing when I look away to mumble into the lifting mist, “I'm not kidding. It's what I am.”
Well, thanks for the night out. I'll just go crawl back into my hole now, while you run back to your car to speed home in a bid to find a priest. It was nice knowing you while it lasted.
Daring to look back at him, I am desperate to hold his hand and promise we're not what people think we are. We're not evil.
But it'll do no good. We're stereotyped. We're judged before anyone gives us the benefit of the doubt.
Miserable, wiping the tears away, I struggle to my feet, standing unsteadily. “I'm sorry Doug, I didn't want it to end this way. I shouldn't have told you anything.”
“Whit are ye sorrae fer? Yeah, okay, I'll admit this is not an average date, but ye dinnae seem like Clootie tae me. Ye don't strike me as anythin' but a lass in endless trouble. Ye freaked out back at the car fer telling me the truth.” Balancing his beer on the rock, he stands too, looking down at me. “Ellindt, the only way tae have a friendship is if it's based on honesty. And if yer a vampyre, and yer auntie is a vampyre, well then I guess I'm willing tae give ye the benefit of the doubt. But hurt me and know this, I willnae take it lyin' down. I fight back.”
The lump in my throat is aching bad, and I'm so upset my hands are shaking, but I hold his gaze, not daring to look away while we have this out.
Never show weakness, that's the first rule of survival.
“Lass, dinnae ever be sorrae fer tellin' the truth. Ye know that religious book everyone likes so much? In there it says not tae throw stones unless yer free of sin. I'm no' perfect. I don't judge people on their race, or color, but on their actions. And so far I am pretty darn positive I like ye. So can we cut this shite out, sit back down, and have that wee kiss I've been gantin fer?”
He's smiling, carefully, staring at me like I'm a skittish foal about to leap off this boulder to go tumbling to her death. Slowly reaching out, he hooks my fingers in his, tugging me nearer.
“What's Clootie?” I ask, while he pulls me so close our legs are touching all the way down.
“The devil.”
“I'm not evil. I promised I wouldn't hurt you.”
“Does that include ma heart?” he smiles, stooping lower and lower, the wind flaying his hair around my face when his warm breath paints my lips.
“Um...” I bite my cheek.
How do I answer that?
“I'll try my best not to hurt your heart,” I nod, just the once.
The tiny gap between us is removed when he nips my bottom lip, then does it again with more pressure.
Struggling with my smile I nibble his lip back, risking a tongue flick, melting against his warm body. My hands are released from their prison when he lets them go and wraps his arms around me.
My heart is pounding, my breath coming out shaky, savoring this perfect moment of safety.
His kiss is warm, soft, gentle, demanding, exciting...
Chapter 10
Ellindt:
Lying together flat out on the rock shelf, holding hands while snuggling under a quilt of constellations, I'm happy.
The clouds have vanished and the night is warm enough that we both have our jackets bunched up under our heads.
I'm fascinated and can't get enough of his stories.
“What do you mean?” I ask, visually mapping the twins of Gemini.
“He turned the castle intae a museum and charges tourists tae see inside.”
“This is John, the chief of the MacLeod clan? And he charges you too?”
“Aye. His grandmother Flora died and he replaced her as the clan chieftan. See, wimen still have equal rights here, we're no' rejects.”
“I can't believe you guys still have clans and chiefs and stuff.”
Sitting up, resting on a rigid arm, he looks down at me, “Are ye busy tomorrow?”
“Why?” Talk about an abrupt change in subject.
“I have tae leave early, but I'm gonnae go watch Roddie at the Highland Games. Ye'll just love it. Say ye'll come with me.”
“I have to ask Selene,” I grumble, annoyed that she stands between me and autonomy.
“She can come tae. We'll all go,” he smiles, as if the solution is really that easy.
“Where is it? How far away?”
“It's here in Argyll. They hold it in Cowal at the Dunoon Stadium, and em, it'll take about three hours tae drive there.”
“Do we have to drive? What time are we talking about?”
“How else are we gonnae get there? I was plannin' on leaving at about six.”
“In the morning!?”
“Well it's a bit pointless going at six in the evenin', ain't it? The whole point is tae go cheer Roddie on. I'm bettin' he'll be this year's champion.”
Sometimes I can be so daft. He
wants
to see me, to share his world with me, to share an event which matters to him.
“I'd love to come, but I have to ask my prison guard.”
Snapping to his feet, he grabs my hand and yanks me up, “Let's go ask her.”
“Uhm, she's probably going to behead me for telling you who I am. I'm not sure I can just take you home.”
“Yer ashamed of me?” he says in shock, dropping my hand as if I powdered it with anthrax.
“No! Jeez Doug, hell no. It's just, I think I've broken all our protocol tonight, and I'm expecting her reaction when I get home to be nuclear.”
“Oh, right, that whole thing ye were freakin' out about earlier?”
Being reminded refills my insides with gravel, weighting me with dread while burgeoning nausea ripples through my body, turning the world into an aquarium for a moment.
Hands grip me with surprising strength. “Are ye okay? Ye swayed there fer a second and looked verra pale.”
“I don't know. I should go,” I manage to mumble, the taste of Skull Splitter welling up my insides.
I think I'm going to be sick.
“C'mon, let me walk ye home at least.”
In a distracted daze I let him guide me up the slope, my jacket draped by him over my shoulders, the empty bottles clinking like death knolls in his free hand.
He's a good man, he takes his litter with him. Why can't Selene see he's fabulous? He's accepted me. That's half my mission completed.
Why the hell
can't
I take him home? Who says I can't? There's no such rule.
To hell with it.
Swallowing away bile, I pause, looking up at him, “I'm taking you home, but let me walk in first... okay?”
He nods, treating it with severity, “Okay.” Resuming our stroll, he squeezes my shoulder where his arm rests heavily, “Thank you. It means a lot tae me.”
All my life I've looked for acceptance, to be treated with respect, with fairness... never once realizing that's what someone else might want too.
Stopping again, I curl into his body and give him a heartfelt hug. “Thank
you
, for accepting me without judging me.”
“Och lass, the measure of a man is his heart. The same goes fer you. Ye cannae hide who ye are. I wouldnae want tae hold ye and take ye out if I couldnae see ye've got a good soul.”
Such simple words but they smash through my defenses, making me warm and weak all over again.