Chapter 6

CHAPTER SIX

TRANSFORMATION

As soon as his study door closed behind them, Kate peppered him with questions. For once, he was content to sit back and let her soft voice wash over him.

"Before we start, I have to know what I did to make that woman spit at me."

Kate had appeared in a ballroom full of dragons dressed as their archenemy. He knew very well what had gone on, but it wouldn't be good for Kate to know too much at once. Far better she saw things for herself and worked it out.

"If it was this costume," Kate said with a perplexed grin, running a hand down her stark black suit, "I'll save the cost next time and rely on body art."

"Next time?"

"You've said that me before," she reminded him. "I don't want to take advantage of your generosity in inviting me here. It's just that I never imagined the storm I'd come to Scotland to investigate would erupt on the dance floor."

"No storm, just an insecure woman who was thrown by your appearance."

"My appearance?" Kate frowned again.

"You're a newcomer. She didn't know you," he dismissed.

"I'm just trying to understand what's going on. The sooner I can get my head around everything, the sooner I'll be out of your hair."

"You surely don't expect nature to put on a show at your bidding?"

"Nature is doing its best," Kate remarked as she glanced out of the window. "But frankly, I don't think nature has anything to do with what's going on here."

His dragon growled a warning. "Oh?"

"I prefer to rely on facts rather than fantasy. Scientists I respect are baffled by the increase in storm activity every time you return to the castle. And I got a very weird feeling in the ballroom tonight."

"Explain."

"That's just it. I can't explain. I can only say how I felt, which was that nothing was quite what I expected at that party."

"Go on," he prompted.

"If you care about your reputation—and I'm sure you do—why go all-out to scandalize the nation? Naked women with their tongues hanging out when they look at you—men wearing ridiculous codpieces as if no one's ever seen a man's cock before? And then there's the strange light, the colors, the music—none of that was usual. We've all heard the rumors about orgies at the castle. Is that why you invited me, to shock me into writing whatever you want?"

That last remark was so close to the truth he made no reply.

"Are you going to explain?" Kate pressed with obvious frustration. "Or am I wasting my time?"

"How much time do you have?"

Lips pressing down, she shrugged. "As long as it takes."

After crossing to the window, he threw it open and was rewarded by the sound of Kate's shocked breath. "That's what I saw on the drive here," she exclaimed. "At first, I thought it was a bank of clouds, but now those black smudges look more like huge birds."

The inexplicable connection between them was the only reason he revealed, "What you see are dragons guarding a portal between Earth and an alternate dimension called Thorgar?—"

Kate's hands flew to her face in shock. "What?"

"The colors you've seen tonight, the music, the guests you've mixed with, are from Thorgar."

Steadying herself against the wall, Kate stared at him in amazement. "You're kidding me? That's ridiculous?—"

"Is it? Do you believe in fate, Kate?"

She made a balancing gesture with her hands, suggesting she wasn't sure.

"Is the possibility of dragons actually existing as ridiculous as you contacting me out of the blue and asking to come here? What made you do that? Why did your editor pick that particular story? What do you think is going on?"

"Dragons," she reflected thoughtfully. "If this is true?—"

His dragon eyes blazed. "If this is true?"

"If it's true," Kate continued stubbornly, "it's of huge scientific significance, and I should report it right away. But if I do that, the authorities will investigate, and those creatures could be killed."

"Do you think anyone will believe you?" he asked dryly.

"If they come here and see what I've seen, then, yes, I do."

"See what?" he murmured, turning back to face the window.

"They've gone." Kate was downcast as she moved to his side.

"I sent them away."

"You—" Her mouth closed on whatever she had been about to say. "I see," she said at last. "You communicate with the dragons by thought. Which means…" Falling silent again, she stared up at him wide-eyed. "Which almost certainly means that you're…"

"No. No," she insisted, shaking her head as she held up her hand. "Don't say another word. I'm not ready to hear it. There's so much going on here," she added in a voice full of tension, "but so little I can write about."

"You're not frightened by what I've told you?"

"No. Should I be?" Her expression suggested Kate was almost as surprised as he was by this confession.

"No. You're safe here, and I'm sure you'll find a way to write your article without compromising the safety of the dragons."

"I am too," she said with quiet determination. "I won't pretend I haven't had my suspicions. I did wonder briefly—crazy for someone who relies on facts—if a huge flock of birds could somehow create enough electrical activity in the atmosphere to cause a storm. But that's not the case, is it? It's all down to dragons. I knew those grooves outside my window couldn't appear spontaneously."

"Grooves?" he queried.

"Outside on my balustrade. I noticed them tonight before I left for the ballroom: ten deep grooves carved into the stonework as if some gigantic creature with powerful claws had landed."

"They won't be there by the time you return to your room," he predicted.

"No photographic evidence," Kate breathed. "Clever. You called the stonemasons to put an end to my curiosity and make me doubt what I'd seen."

He saw no need to answer that.

"What is this place?" Kate asked tensely. "Who are you?

"Would you like me to show you?"

Sucking in a steadying breath, she admitted, "I'd like that very much indeed. It's probably the only way I'll ever understand what's going on."

Kate was not the type to flinch or reel back, but now she did both. Heart thundering, she watched as Torran, the Laird of Kildear, underwent the most incredible transformation. Several highly charged moments later, she was afraid to blink and miss something as his human form expanded, changing into a creature that defied reality and predated time.

The most powerful man Kate had ever encountered was now a mighty force, both terrifying in appearance and utterly magnificent. Radiating authority in a way that was both primitive and raw, the contortion of Torran's muscles caused him to roar and writhe, suggesting he was experiencing intense pain. But the fire in his eyes spoke of pleasure, while growls down low in his chest were the only manifestation of this agony and ecstasy combined. The fortitude with which he accepted both was proof of his unimaginable power and strength of mind.

As his body lengthened and reshaped, shimmering scales appeared on the firm, tanned skin Kate had touched so briefly. This impenetrable shield was a strange shade of black that defied easy description. It must be a color of Thorgar, she reasoned. But it was the birth of wings on his back that held her spellbound. Gold-tipped and majestic, these emerging symbols of unmatched sovereignty quite literally stole the breath from her lungs.

She was in the presence of an entity far greater than even Kate's overactive imagination could conjure up, and it was a privilege to witness this metamorphosis. But the biggest shock had yet to come. The walls of the room melted away, and she clung on to a table as a stiff Highland breeze threatened to snatch her out of the room. A scream remained lodged in her throat when the creature that had once been Torran spread its wings.

"Climb on," he commanded in thought, in a voice that, thank goodness, she recognized as belonging to Torran.

"Climb on," he repeated.

"What?"

"You heard me?—"

A dragon was speaking inside her head? Incredible. Impossible. And yet it was happening.

What to do?

Steadying herself with difficulty, she came to a decision: if it had to be now or never, she chose now.

As the dragon lowered its mighty head, she clambered onto its neck. Clinging on with every bit of strength she possessed, she squeezed her eyes tightly shut and bid reality farewell as the dragon took off like a jet fighter and soared high into the night sky.

She must have been dreaming. Kate woke to ringing in her ears and rainbow halos flickering in front of her eyes.

"You're awake…"

"Obviously," she managed groggily, but it was a relief to hear a familiar voice and know Torran was somewhere close by?—

Was it a relief? Was it really? Torran was a dragon; in case she'd forgotten. Unless she had been dreaming…

Suddenly, Kate wasn't too sure about anything. Maybe she'd drunk too much last night. But that couldn't be true because not a drop had passed her lips. Had she been drugged? No. she felt quite clearheaded, and Torran didn't strike her as the type to use underhanded tactics.

"I'm glad you're awake," he said.

"Why? Where the hell am I?"

Rubbing her eyes, Kate looked around. The room wasn't instantly familiar, but it was similar to her room in the castle. It was a very large room with a very large bed, upon which it appeared she'd been sleeping fully clothed.

Sitting up, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and instantly panicked. "I don't understand. What am I doing here? Where have I been?" Why couldn't she remember?

Emerging from the shadows at the far end of the room, Torran quizzed her with his eyes. "You can't remember how you got here?"

"Can't remember anything," Kate admitted, puzzling over the blank in her mind.

"Then be reassured that you're safe. And comfortable too, I hope?"

"Very, thank you." Safe? That remained to be seen. But Torran was right about her surroundings being comfortable. The large room was lavishly equipped, as her room at the castle had been. They were both a bit different from the peeling paint and a two-bar electric fire she enjoyed back at home, that was for sure. The sumptuous throws on the bed were as light as a feather and as soft as silk. The only disagreeable thing was that the room didn't seem to have any windows. "It's very dark in here," she observed suspiciously, hugging herself for comfort.

One blink later, windows appeared. Dummkopf! They must have been hiding in the shadows. Now her eyes had fully woken up, she got out of bed to take a look around. A clear gray light outside suggested it was dawn. The countryside looked familiar, yet not familiar, because the colors were too bright, as if a filter had been applied and everything was in sharper focus.

Swinging around to face the room, she stared at Torran, who had moved to sit in an easy chair. Why was he still here? Not that she was desperate for him to go, but she needed an explanation. Had he been here while she was sleeping? And where exactly was here?

As if reading her, Torran angled his disreputably stubbled jaw to give her a questioning look.

Don't try your charm on me, she thought, but in full Highland rig, he did look magnificent. Tanned, powerful, wild-haired, and infuriatingly casually content with those hard-muscled legs displayed to perfection beneath his kilt, her stern-faced mystery man and interrogator supreme appeared to be in no rush to go anywhere.

Hang on… Interrogator?

As her morning brain cranked into gear, Kate remembered her dream. It wasn't a sexy dream this time, but an interrogation during which Torran had asked a lot of questions. She could still remember some of her answers: "No. I'm not a spy. Yes, I am a cub reporter looking for a story and hoping for a scoop. My mother was a victim of domestic violence. My father was a bully who entered and left our lives on a whim, leaving chaos and heartbreak in his wake."

Tell me more about your parents…

"My mother was perfect in every way. My number one fan, she was always loving and giving and would have laid down her life to protect me from my father's rages."

Tell me more about your father.

"I'd rather not." But Torran had insisted, Kate remembered. "As a small child, I desperately wanted my father to love me, but now I realize he wasn't capable of love. He only visited in the dead of night, and then only to brutalize my mother. He never stayed long and was always gone by the time the sun rose in the morning. To my eternal shame, I only came to understand how my mother suffered when I was older. As a small child, I believed my father when he told me he was duty-bound to shake us up whenever he was in the area. Now I understand that he used my mother as his plaything—and the worst thing about it is that I suspect she loved him and hoped to change him for the better."

So, that's why you're still a virgin.

"Kate…?"

"Yes. Yes!" Snapping back to the here and now—wherever that might be—Kate put her dream to one side. It must have been a dream, surely? "Did you interrogate me last night while I was asleep and vulnerable?"

Torran didn't seem the least bit dismayed by the question. "You're not easy to read. You have some form of barrier in place."

"So, you waited until that barrier was down before reading my mind? Don't you think that's intrusive?" Her voice was mild, but Kate was furious.

"What are you so worried about?" Torran drawled with a lazy gesture. "Do you have secrets to hide?"

"Everyone has secrets to hide," Kate fired back. "And everyone should have the choice whether or not they share those secrets."

With a short huff of amusement, he murmured, "Calm down."

"Calm down?" Kate flared. "You question me while I'm asleep in a room I don't recognize, in a place I'm not even sure is real. What's happening, Torran? When are you going to admit the truth? I ache all over as if I've had a good workout. What's that about?"

"Clinging on can do that," he observed with a slow-burning smile.

That charm again. Stuff it, mister! "If you're talking about clinging to reality, I gave up on that some time ago."

"How so?" Torran queried mildly.

"Well, let me think. How about when you changed into a dragon, and I flew on your back?"

"You remember that?"

"So, I did fly on your back last night. That's why I'm aching."

At least he had the good grace to give an almost-smile of agreement.

Smiling was a good look on a man who rarely showed his feelings, but then everything was a good look on the Laird of Kildear.

"Rest assured that you're safe here," he insisted.

"But, where is here?" she demanded.

"Thorgar."

Startled, Kate exclaimed, "The alternate dimension to Earth? We're really here? We went through the portal?"

"You flew on my back, remember? It can take time to acclimatize when you're new to this experience."

"Zapping between dimensions?" She huffed with incredulity. "No kidding. So, what's next, dragon-guy?"

"Now? I share some of the rules of the game with you."

"The game?" Kate frowned suspiciously. "It's been a pretty one-sided game so far."

"A mind is only an open book when all barriers are removed."

"Well, I think I get that," she said. "Go on…"

"To read a mind without the use of chemicals is only possible during sexual climax, or when an induced stupor is achieved by using harmless hypnotic skills. Which would you prefer me to use?"

"None of the above!" Kate said angrily. "I hope that wasn't a serious question. I came to Scotland in good faith at your invitation. At no point did I expect to be rendered unconscious, spirited away, flown through the night on the back of a dragon, or woken up in a place that might well be a prison, for all I know."

"A prison?" Humor flashed in Torran's eyes. "I've never heard this place called that before."

"Ah, so I'm one of many visitors. How flattering. And while we're at it, what would you call this place?"

Having reviewed her body—one of the first things she'd done—Kate knew that Torran hadn't been anywhere near her in the sexual sense. To be honest, she couldn't imagine him taking advantage of any woman, or ever needing to, but with a history of domestic violence in the family, Kate's understanding of pleasure at the hands of a man would always hover on the edge of mistrust. That was one reason why she'd never been a party animal. She didn't risk nightclubs with the possibility of spiked drinks or go for boozy nights out with friends, and there were definitely no trips to random islands with morals left behind at home.

Torran's mouth twitched as if he'd read her. "Stop that," she warned.

With a shrug, he smiled and said nothing, but it was a warning that Torran could read her whether or not she was asleep. There must be some sort of on/off button in her mind to raise those barriers, but if she doesn't know how to activate it, she'd better guard her thoughts in future.

"Don't worry. I don't mean to harm you," he said.

She believed him. Torran was strong enough to overwhelm her in a trice. But he hadn't and he wouldn't. She knew that for sure, having patiently retrained herself to accept that just because her mother had been brutalized didn't mean that Kate would be too.

Kate's only regret was that she couldn't revisit the past and save her mother. That was, if her mother had wanted to be saved. It was impossible to walk in someone else's footsteps and accurately interpret their wishes. Sometimes, it was enough to be on call if needed?—

Torran interrupted her thoughts with a question: "Why do you trust me?"

Drawing a breath, she exhaled slowly. "Goodness knows, but I do. My biggest problem is that I can't tell fact from fiction—what's real and what's a dream."

"This is real enough," Torran reassured her.

She followed his glance around the room. The colors might be sharper and the ornaments unusual to Kate's eyes, but she wasn't a frequent traveler like the Laird of Kildear. Of course, he was a frequent flier too. The thought brought the first wry smile to her face.

"It's good to see you smiling," Torran commented. "Perhaps we can talk now?"

"Don't you already know everything about me?" Kate queried with a challenge in her eyes.

"We have yet to talk about your article."

"When I've written it, I'll let you know," Kate countered smoothly, which was rewarded by a flash of fire in Torran's eyes.

Where on earth would she start? Not on Earth, but on Thorgar?—

"Careful," Torran murmured.

"I do have a few more questions for you," she admitted.

"I brought you here so we could talk. Fire away."

So, not the fabulous seduction of her dreams, then.

Okay, Miss Prim, get your pen and paper out…