Her fingers at his neck drove up into his hair.
She kissed him with the passion he hadn’t received from her in a long time. His hand slid between them, grasping her breast. She made a sound of pleasure and reached for the front of his pants.
Damn her. He loved the feel of her wicked fingers on him.
She whispered, “Don’t ever ask to use my scrying wall again unless you wish to lose this part first.”
Clenching her fingers hard, she dug her nails into his crotch and twisted.
He shoved her away, roaring in pain and fury. “Ya bitch. What the fuck is wrong with ya?”
She’d fallen to the floor, laughing. “Nothing. I am better than ever. If I need you, I’ll call you. Get out, Cathbad.”
Cathbad teleported away from TÅμr Medb realm instantly.
He reappeared outside the cave in the Himalayas with a snowstorm blowing through. Dropping to his knees, it took him a moment to heal the pain throbbing in his loins.
He sure as hell had no desire to jerk off.
That miserable bitch.
After that little trick, he might not allow someone else to kill her. He shook off the worst of his fury, tucking this moment in the back of his mind. Plenty of time for vengeance.
For now he would not deviate from the plan.
He clothed himself in furs and wool as he gathered himself for another battle. If Brynhild attacked him today, he would lock her in that damn pond forever.
If she couldn’t do her part, she became a liability.
In fact, now that he had Tristan, Cathbad had been rethinking parts of his plan. A polymorph Alterant could be more valuable than a crazy supernatural female.
He’d had all he could take of those.
He put his hand on the cold boulder, allowing the fury to slide away as he rose to his feet. He never made decisions when angry. He wouldn’t today either.
Brynhild would do her part. She had a value unlike any others. He could put up with her far easier than Queen Maeve.
Now that he’d shaken off the encounter in TÅμr Medb, Cathbad headed for his future. He moved the boulder covering the opening with his kinetics and passed through the protective ward, noting it was undisturbed.
He stopped short, unable to understand what he saw.
The inside of the cavern looked as if a war had erupted. The chair and bookcase were strewn across the cavern, smashed into pieces. Books and magazines had been shredded, paper lying everywhere. Huge blocks of ice were piled randomly all over the place.
Lifting his hand and moving his fingers from left to right, he cleared the debris and ice chunks between him and the far wall where Brynhild’s hoard had been stashed.
Still there.
But the chains Tristan had hung from were empty.
Blood splattered the wall beneath the chains.
Not an ice dragon in sight.
Chapter 25
The afternoon sun dropped closer to the horizon as Casidhe walked the last hundred feet to the rear of the ancestral research centre. They did have a back door entrance, but it remained locked from the inside with a bolt latch that slid through a slot as well.
Drake had quieted as they neared the village. She’d intended to hike here without a word to avoid addressing this feeling of being unfair to him.
She hadn’t invited Cathbad or Drake.
Now she had to deal with the mess they were both making.
But Drake had started asking about the land and people during their walk. At first, she’d thought he wanted to become more familiar with her country, but he’d murmured almost to himself, “That has changed.”
It gave her the impression he’d visited here a long time ago. If he’d lived here, he should have been somewhat familiar with what she’d told him about County Galway.
The more he asked questions unrelated to her, her sword, or the grimoire, the more she lowered her guard while they walked at a fast pace.
Then he’d ask how far they had left, reminding her he was in a hurry, and that reminder of why they were even together would yank her back to the present.
She had to keep her head straight.
They were not friends.
He was a stranger. An unknown supernatural. One who knew a druid who had lived thousands of years. He’d also argued the red dragon on television was not the true red dragon.
A freaking lightbulb moment hit her.
Could her best source for finding information on that dragon be walking an arm’s length away from her?
She kept her face blank when her heart started dancing around at the chance to learn something that could help her find Skarde.
When she reached the backside of the ancestral centre, she leaned forward to peer around the corner of the building. The gray light of late day made it hard to see clearly, but everything appeared to be its normal quiet.
She could feel Drake standing close behind her.
Too close.
The man had no sense of personal space. He believed whatever he wanted took precedence over what anyone else wanted.
“What do ya wait for, lass?” Drake asked.
“To see if we can reach the front unnoticed.”
“I told ya I will cloak us when ya are ready.”
True, but she was stalling.
She had a bad feeling about entering the centre at all. What if Cathbad waited there?
“I will keep ya safe,” Drake whispered next to her ear, as if he’d read her mind. Could he?
“Are you liftin’ my thoughts?” she groused.
“No. Why would ya accuse me of such a thing?”
She’d insulted him?
Casidhe angled around and wished she hadn’t.
He leaned on a hand propped against the wall above her head. The giant loomed over her, his face just inches from hers.
Drake took up too much airspace.
Far more than a normal person, but then he was not normal, was he?
He took up more space than a supernatural, too.
“Have ya lost your tongue?” he asked, sounding serious, but the glint in his eyes taunted her.
“My tongue is just fine.” She straightened up, pushing his chest until he stood upright.
