Lightning In Sea (CELTIC ELEMENTALS Book 3) Page 16

  She shook her head, reaching for him, tears streaking her face. “No. Of course you wouldn’t. I see that now, but, Mac—”

  He put up a hand, avoided hers. “I’ve got to get back to Lugh now.”

  “No, Mac, wait,” she pleaded, the tears falling faster now, but he only looked back at her impassively, the storm in his eyes gone, leaving a cool, mirror-like grey that chilled her to the bone.

  “Mac!” But he was already gone. The door shut behind him, then the stonework and the throne room faded away. Leaving her back in the awful, familiar field, feeling worse than she had before.

  More days passed. Or maybe hours. With no way to tell, Sloane drifted.

  When at last Fand appeared, looking oddly pensive, Sloane barely moved. She was too afraid of what the fairy might have to say. “Lugh has said I’m to take you back to Manx. You’re free to go.”

  “Where’s Mac?”

  The fairy queen gave her an infuriatingly vague look. “I don’t know. Lugh didna say. Only that I was to take you from the Otherworld at once.” She held out a hand, waiting.

  With no choice, Sloane got to her feet. As her hand touched Fand’s, the field faded away. Instantly, she seemed to hear bells tolling, a long way off.

  The sound of them made her shiver even as the fairy queen’s fingers tightened, pulling her unwilling body back to earth.

  27

  The bells continued to toll, again and again, even as Ramsey harbor appeared around her. It was an eerie sound, like gulls crying, high and wavering. Chills rose on the back of her arms. “What is that?” she whispered. “Is it one of the churches?” What day is it anyway?

  Fand shook her head, her lovely face pale. “Those are the bells of Avalon. They only sound when one of us is lost. Gone from the Otherworld forever.”

  Gone? What was the mad woman saying?

  The fairy’s eyes met hers and Sloane flinched.

  “No. I don’t believe it. Take me to Cashtal yn Ard. Goddamn you, take me now!”

  They arrived on the windswept hill in a swirl of golden sparks. Sloane almost wept in relief. Mac’s stone was still standing.

  She ran closer, then stopped in horror.

  The stone was weeping blood, like in her dreams. Those awful nightmares. Sloane stared at it, falling to her knees in the dew-wet grass. When she reached out to lay her hand against the stone—It’s a symbol of his bond with the island he created. As long as the rune stone stands, Manannán mac Lir reigns in Avalon—there was nothing there. No resistance at all. It was like trying to touch a hologram.

  “I’m so sorry,” the fairy queen whispered. “All trace of him is being erased from our world. It takes time because Mac was so powerful but . . . soon you won’t even be able to see the stone anymore.”

  “Get out of here. You’ve done your job. Just . . . go.”

  “Sloane . . .”

  “Leave me the fuck alone.”

  Sloane was left staring at a vanishing stone.

  She stayed on the heights until it completely faded from sight. It took hours. Her eyes burned and ran with tears, but she wouldn’t blink. As long as she could see the stone, there was still hope that Mac was out there. That he hadn’t been taken from her.

  When she finally accepted it was gone and so was he, Sloane got to her feet. She could barely move at first, her body cramped from hours kneeling in the damp, but by the time she was halfway to Mac’s, she was running, not even registering the pain.

  She flew inside the house, not noticing or caring as the door slammed shut behind her with such violence the window set in it shattered.

  The bedroom was as she had last seen it, down to the robe tossed on the floor. Sloane froze in the doorway, shaking.

  The sun was streaming through the windows so brightly, almost fiercely, as if mocking her pain. She padded across the rug and curled into the covers that still smelled of him.

  “I won’t let you go, Mac,” she whispered, rocking back and forth. “I can’t.”

  When sleep came, it wasn’t slow, it was immediate, like a switch had flipped, her battered psyche unable to cope with anymore.

  It was after midnight when her eyes opened again, puffy and swollen. Her throat was tight. Sloane lay there for a long while before she forced herself to get up and make some tea. Moonlight streaked the kitchen in bands of silver and grey. She didn’t bother to turn on the lights. Instead, she sipped at her tea standing up. Her icy hands wrapped tight round the mug as she tried not to remember the first time she’d had tea in this house, the day Mac had made it for her after they had made love that first time.

  She put the cup down after only a couple of swallows and headed for the bathroom.

  It was worse in there, especially when she filled the tub and the steam billowed into the air, reminding her of slick, hard hands and lips on hers and laughter echoing off the tile.

  She sank chin deep into the hot water, her ears barely registering the rattle of the front door or the heavy footsteps pounding down the hall. But her head came up when the bathroom door was flung wide.

  Mac was standing in the doorway.

  28

  “Now there’s a sight every man wants to come home to.”

  Sloane gaped up at him. He reached back and yanked his shirt over his head, then unfastened his pants and kicked them off. In seconds, Mac was utterly naked. Her eyes trailed him up, down, then up again.

  Mac stepped closer to the tub, his expression bemused. “Cat got your tongue?”

  He frowned when she still didn’t speak, leaning over to wrap his fingers around her upper arm. “Sloane—”

  She slapped a hand over his, her heart starting to race. He felt real, solid. Warm.

  “I thought you were dead,” she whispered, her fingers shaking where they touched him. “I though Lugh had killed you.”

  “Why?” He looked startled, glancing down at her. “How long have ye been here?”

  “Long enough. Fand. The bells, the stone . . . ” She closed her eyes. A long tear sneaked between her lashes.

  She felt Mac lift her palm to his lips and pressed a long hard kiss to the center of it. Finally she opened her eyes. He was really there. Naked, solid and alive. “It’s no’ so easy to kill the likes of me.” Then he frowned. “At least before. Now I might have to be a wee bit more careful.”

  “Why?”

  “Nothing. We’ll save the details for after.”

  “After?”

  “After I convince you I’m really back.”

  “How are you going to do that?”

  He stepped into the tub, unmindful of the water sloshing over the sides. “I’ve got a few ideas.”

  “I might take a lot of convincing. What happened, Mac? How did you convince Lugh to let us be together, a god and a mortal?”

  “Technically, I didna.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m mortal now, Just like ye. See, yer da wasna so far off. He just got it very, very backward.” She stared at him, her jaw going slack, lips parting. He grinned, reaching out to run his thumb over her lips. “I asked Lugh to drain my immortality away. It’s a tricky spell, easily gone wrong, but we managed it in the end.”

  Sloane closed her eyes. “Christ, that’s what you’d planned. All along. You were going to give it all up for me.”

  He nodded. “A fair trade, if ye ask me. Lugh wasna happy but he saw the light fairly quickly. Better my immortality than war.”

  “But Avalon, Arthur . . . your powers!”

  He shrugged, though something dark flickered in his eyes once before vanishing. “My father, Lir, rules the sea once more, but I am still his son, god or no’. If he has need of me, I daresay he’ll find a way to bring me home. But for now, canna we just enjoy the moment, machree?” His beard tickled the side of her neck as his mouth brushed her ear. “I’ve missed you a powerful lot. Haven’t ye missed me at all?”

  “Oh Mac.” Sloane gulped back a sob.

  “I’ll take tha’
as a yes.”

  “You ever leave me again, Manannán mac Lir, I don’t care how powerful you are, I’ll bring you to your knees.”

  “Tá tú cheana féin.”

  She frowned, looking up into his face. “Wait. You said that before. The first night that we had sex. What does it mean?”

  “Ye already have.”

  She stared at him, standing in front of her, solid and warm and whole. Very whole. And very hard. Her lips twitched as something inside her loosened and melted away in relief and joy. She felt giddy.

  “Get over here and I show you how nice it can be when I’m on my knees.”

  He chuckled softly and stepped in the huge tub with her, stroking her hair between his fingers as she sat up, going to her knees as promised. The chuckle turned to a gasp as she took him in firmly in hand and kissed his tip.

  “Danu, woman.”

  “I thought I’d never taste you again.”

  “Ye really think I’d allow tha’ to happen?”

  Sloane didn’t answer, watching his face as she sucked him into her mouth. His eyes darkened as she worked him with her lips and tongue. Soon his breathing was ragged. He reached down to fist a hand in her hair, his hips thrusting forward as she took him as deep as her throat would allow.

  “Ye have to stop, Sloane,” he groaned. “Or this will be over far quicker than either of us would like.”

  He pulled her up his body, letting his cock slide between her legs once, torturing them both before he pulled away. He knelt in the water, his face even with her chest, the roughness of his beard against her breasts making her gasp, then whimper as his mouth tortured first one tight peak, then the other.

  “Please,” she whimpered.

  “Please what?” He pulled her down now, letting his tip sink briefly against her slick, wet sex. Sloane cried out, her nails digging into his arms.

  “Please take me. Take me hard, Mac.” I need to feel you so deep it hurts, I need to know it’s real.

  She didn’t say the words aloud, but his eyes told her he understood. With one swift, hard thrust, he joined their bodies. The feel of him took Sloane’s breath away. Her muscles clenched and rolled at the sudden invasion, her spine snapping straight.

  Fuck. She twisted on his cock, adjusting to the glorious breadth of him. She’d never get over the feel of this man, the way he had of branding her as his from the inside out.

  “Ye’re mine,” Mac growled, echoing her thoughts. “And no one is taking ye from me. Ever again.” He pulled back as swiftly as he’d entered, ignoring her cry of distress. Then Mac took her just as hard and fast as she’d begged him to.

  One big hand spanned her hip, those rough fingers digging into her ass as he lifted her into every violent thrust. One huge arm was braced behind her, protecting her from the edge of the tub, even as Mac drove them both ever more forcefully toward release. Sloane could only hold on and watch him take her as water splashed in waves to the tiled floor.

  It was a sight worth seeing. Naked and fierce, his beauty had never been more raw. Those wide shoulders rolling, the tight flex of his ass, all that dark, carved muscularity focused on her and her alone. The pleasure kept trying to pull her under, but Sloane didn’t feel like she was drowning, not this time.

  The lights in the bathroom danced and wavered around them, clothing Mac’s body in blue and greens like a shifting raiment made of water and sky. Finally he cried out, her name reverberating off the tile. She came to the sound of it, her eyes wide open.

  Even when she finally closed them, he was all she could see.

  29

  “I’ve been wondering . . .” Sloane mused what had to be hours and hours later.

  “Yes, love?”

  “Whether you’ll have the same . . . stamina now that you’re human?”

  He pushed up on his elbows, his eyebrows drawn together as he looked down on her. Sloane smothered a giggle at the consternation on that dark face. “Oh, are ye then? Well, I guess we’ll just have to put it to the test.”

  He slid a big hand under her thigh and lifted it to his hip, sliding inside of her in one forceful thrust. Sloane swallowed hard, her hand fluttering to the sheets, twisting the cool linen in her fingers as her throat closed and pleasure bowed her spine. “God,” she whimpered.

  “Nae, no’ a god anymore,” Mac breathed, looking down at her. “But yers forever just the same. And ye are mine.”

  “Yes,” she gasped as he pulled back. He reached out to tilt her chin down, looking straight into her eyes.

  “Say it, machree.”

  Her lips trembled with need and a full heart. “I am yours, Mac. Always.”

  “Forever,” he demanded, slamming back inside of her so hard the bed shook with the force of it.

  “Forever,” she agreed, the word half a scream as his cock filled her.

  She rolled over and stretched a long while later. It was dawn again, or something approximating it. Mac was gone, but his side of the bed was still warm and the clattering in the kitchen assured her he hadn’t gone too far.

  With a grin, she flipped over onto her back, throwing her arms wide.

  She was happy.

  So goddamn happy. For the first time in years, that empty ache inside her was gone. The fear and uncertainty was gone. She was where she was meant to be, with the man she was meant to be with.

  Maybe there was such a thing as perfect, after all. With a laugh, Sloane got to her feet, not bothering to hunt down her bra and panties but throwing her dress on as the breeze coming through the windows was rather sharp. It was a misty-looking day out there. Even the bedroom was turning hazy with it. She walked over to shut one of the windows. It was stuck fast, the painted jamb so slick and cold she couldn’t get a grip on it.

  Fuck. It had to be freezing out there.

  “Ye want tea, love?” Mac called out.

  She’d rather have coffee, but anything hot sounded amazing right now.

  “S-sure,” she answered, shivering hard. She gave up on the window and turned around. Only to jump back with a gasp.

  Someone was standing by the open bedroom door.

  “Fand. What are you doing here?”

  The fairy wrinkled her nose, glancing at the rumpled bed.

  “Waiting for you two to finish rutting so I could get you alone for a moment.” Fand seemed annoyed, and strangely animated. That dreamy look Sloane associated with her was gone. The fae queen was carrying something under her arm. She shifted it restlessly when the tea kettle whistled.

  “You could have knocked,” Sloane pointed out. “How did you get in anyway?”

  Fand gave her a sly look. “I have my ways.”

  Sloane was starting to feel creeped out. “Why are you here? Mac’s not one of you anymore.”

  “I know he’s not.” The fairy queen laughed lightly. “He surprised me. I didn’t guess he’d give up immortality for you. It’s better this way, really.”

  “What is?”

  “I was going to kill you, Sloane.” The words were said so matter-of-factly, so off-handedly, they almost didn’t register at first. “Well, that worthless vampire Declan was supposed to do it for me, but in the end, this is so much better. Mac’s giving up Avalon, his powers, his godhood . . . and now he’s going to lose you. Oh yes, this is a very, very good day.”

  Nothing the little fairy was saying made any sense. Then suddenly, it did. The one Declan had been working with in Fae. It had been Fand all along. Sloane’s head started to pound. “But Aine said you couldn’t hurt people. That Mac cursed you. How did you break his curse to do all this?”

  The fairy queen laughed, but the sound of it made the hairs on the back of Sloane’s neck stand straight up. “I didn’t break it, Sloane. I feel your pain, your anger, your fear. I feel it more than you do, just like he wanted me to.” Mist crept out from the fairy queen’s skirts, spreading through the room. “After a few eons, it hurts so much, you just go numb. Then you start to crave it. I don’t mind the pain anymore. It�
��s my friend.”

  Sloane tried to listen and keep away from the mist at the same time, but the coils snuck around her and tightened until there was nowhere to go. “What are you planning to do?”

  Fand smiled, but it wasn’t that slightly vague and sweet one. This one had teeth and claws behind it. For the first time, Sloane could see the resemblance between vampire and fae. “Mac’s fond of handing out lessons. This time I’m going to return the favor.”

  Behind her, Mac appeared in the doorway, looking from Fand to Sloane and back again. Instantly his eyes darkened in understanding.

  As soon as he stepped through the door, it slammed behind him.

  “Perfect timing.” Fand nodded happily. “I need you both here for this.” She shook out the bundle in her hand. At the sight of it, Mac went white, ghostly, otherworldly white.

  “No.” He whirled, reaching for the door behind him, twisting at the knob and then pounding on it when it wouldn’t open.

  Chills skated down her spine.

  Giving up on the door, Mac turned and launched himself at Fand. Lifting a tiny finger, she threw him back against the door with a harsh laugh. “How satisfying it is to see how helpless you are! No magic, no immortality and soon no love. Poor, poor mac Lir.” Her tone was venomous.

  “Mac, what is going on?” Mac didn’t answer Sloane’s question. He simply slid down the door, his eyes leaving the fae queen’s face to find hers. She gasped at the desolation there.

  “Will you beg?” Fand smiled that horrible smile again.

  “Aye,” Mac said without hesitation. “Doona do this, Fand.”

  Helplessly, Sloane watched Fand taunt Mac, her eyes fastened on that torc winking at the fae queen’s neck. Something teased her memory. Something Aine had said about pureblood faes. Her eyes widened.

  Leaping forward, Sloane wrenched the torc from around Fand’s neck. The fairy queen blinked and looked down in surprise.