Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

J ulianne woke up in Shaw's bed, and for the first time since jumping to the twelfth century was exactly where she wanted to be. The scent of him and her rose from her skin like a custom body spray; they smelled so good together she wanted to wear them forever. Her boobs had also finally stopped acting up; they just glowed with happiness. She propped herself on her elbow, hoping to kiss awake the man who had done so much to delight her, but saw she was alone. A set of clean clothes from her own room sat on the table by his wash basin.

After the weirdness during sex with her last night she imagined he probably needed some space, but it still hurt a little. He could have woken me up and kissed me good-bye before he took off.

She stared up at the rafters as she wondered if she'd made the right choice. Had she been too slutty with him? She had been with a few guys before getting married, and none of them had been put off by her eagerness. Sex had been fun from the first time for Julianne, which is why she liked it so much, and at least until Mitch made it scary, her favorite thing to do besides swimming. Some men didn't like girls who were really into it, Eva had once warned her; maybe the chieftain was that type.

I didn't do anything wrong. If I did, he should have said something last night.

As soon as she got on her feet Julianne grimaced, as a sore spot under her left breast ached like a bad bruise. That seemed to ease as soon as she touched it, but she wondered if she should go and have Duncan look at it. A cracked rib was not going to be fun, or maybe it was just a pulled muscle. She'd gotten the latter a few times while restraining thrashing victims. Then again if she went to the healer she'd have to explain how she'd gotten hurt. Shaw might want to keep everything that had happened between them last night private.

"Be a lot easier to know what to do if someone had stuck around long enough to talk to me about it," she grumbled as she washed up and dressed.

As she picked up the clothes she'd worn yesterday, something fell from her pocket. She thought for a moment it was the stone leaf she'd taken from the willow, but it looked redder and shinier now. Hooking the curled stem over the chain she wore with her locket, she decided to go to breakfast first, and see if the chieftain was there. As she walked down the passage she noticed the guards giving her odd looks, and stopped to peer back at one of them.

"What's wrong?" She ran a hand over her tousled hair. "I look scary, right? I forgot my comb this morning."

"'Tis naught amiss, Mistress." The guard gave her an uneasy smile. "Enjoy the day."

He and the other guards knew she had slept with Shaw, Julianne decided as she went downstairs. Well, of course they did; they'd just seem her come out of his room. As fast as the castle grapevine seemed to work, everyone would know by the time they finished breakfast. That was okay; it wouldn't be the first time people had whispered about or snickered at her. She was just sick of everyone thinking that Shaw was the devil and she was crazy for liking him.

"Okay, maybe I am nuts," she muttered after walking past yet another squinty-eyed guard. "But isn't that my business?" In a louder voice she said, "Don't you guys have better things to do than gossip about me and who I sleep with, which is my personal private business, by the way?"

Her voice echoed down the passage, making every guard stare at the ceiling like it had centerfolds taped to it.

Julianne knew the rest of the clan would probably hear about that, too, but she decided she didn't care. She'd never had such an amazing time with any guy. That alone would make any woman go a little wild, wouldn't it? Between the sheets Shaw was so hot he probably should have set the bed on fire. She couldn't wait until they could get naked together again.

I'm not sorry. Why should I be?

As for all the calling each other strange words and that truly bizarre experience during the orgasm where she saw the two of them in that world of mirrors, she couldn't decide if that was on her or him. It seemed to be both of them. All she could remember after that was more sex, and more sex. At the end she had just cuddled with him in that about-to-slide-into-a-coma way, holding onto his hands as if her life depended on it, and then falling into a deep, dreamless sleep. Julianne had never been so tired, so the sleep had almost been the best part. Having multiple climaxes like that, while a little scary, beat out the exhausted sleeping. She should have stayed awake to have more fun with Shaw, but maybe that would have killed her.

Whoa, no, she definitely could not die now, she thought. She needed to have a lot more sex with Shaw before that happened.

"Morning, Julianne," Caroline called out as soon as she walked into the great hall. The diver waved her over to the laird's table where she was sitting with Valerie and Lark.

Time to face the girls from the future. Don't be embarrassed. Own it.

"Morning." Julianne made a show of eyeing the one empty chair beside her own. "Have you seen Satan this morning? He made me do the walk of shame alone, but last night was totally worth it."

Lark choked on her brew, while Valerie did like the guards and studied the vaulted ceiling. Caroline's blue eyes danced as she laughed out loud.

"Sleeping with Satan doesn't get me a room in the dungeon, right?" she asked the laird's wife.

Valerie met her gaze but still looked as if she'd stubbed her toe. "No, my dear, of course not."

"Shaw probably went walkabout. He can move so fast no one would notice him leaving the castle," the diver told her, wiping some tears from her eyes. "Or he could just be hanging out in the garrison hall and talking with the guys. He likes to check in with Nyall when he's, you know, having a good day."

" Is he having a good day?" the seamstress asked, her tone timid.

"Don't know. Thanks to me he had an extremely good night, but he left before I came to." Julianne sat down and huffed out some air. "Okay, so here's the thing: since I got here Shaw hasn't left me alone for like five seconds, right? Then when I have sex with him—think like the super freaky excellent, mind-blowing kind—he skips out on me. What's his deal?"

"My guy hovered and dodged for like a week before I finally got him in bed," Lark told her. "I practically dragged him there. Then he was all–"

"Ladies, please." Valerie looked around the hall before she leaned forward and asked in a low voice, "Must we discuss this quite so openly?"

"Why not?" Caroline countered. "Twelfth century guys can be a pain, I don't care what the maids think, and none of us are virgins. Shaw wasn't your first, was he, Jules?"

She shook her head. "I was married for three years before I landed on the island. My ex Mitch, he acted like a nice, decent guy, but the reality? Huge greedy ass of a man-whore. Could not keep his pants zipped."

The diver winced. "Ack. I had one of those. Anything with a pulse, that guy would nail."

"Yeah, mine, too, especially if they'd let him make a sex tape while they did the deed. Anyway, I couldn't deal with my hubs' psycho dick, and I didn't want to end up on some homegrown porn site. So about a year ago I moved into the guest room, put a deadbolt on the door and went back to soloing with my vibrator." She saw Valerie's expression and winced. "Sorry, V, I know that was totally TMI. But Shaw is like not the worst, you know?"

"Maybe that's why you two were meant for each other," Lark suggested. "I know the chieftain sometimes acts like a man-whore, but behind that gorgeous face and all those muscles, he's really a nice, decent guy."

"Not counting the monster inside him that wants to rip out your guts while it gnaws on your spine like beef jerky," Caroline tacked on.

"I think we're all aware of the danger Shaw presents, ladies." The laird's wife regarded Julianne. "If he left to wander and think alone, he will return eventually. He simply needs some time to work out whatever is troubling him."

"What if it's the Big Bad? You know, his ink?" When none of them replied Julianne knew they knew. "Exactly how long has he been handling all this Pritani garbage by himself, anyway? A couple of centuries? Ever since they trashed him?"

"I really can't say. I believe he would ask for help if he needed it," the laird's wife said, although she sounded uncomfortable and wouldn't look at her.

"He seems as if he's used to managing it by himself," Lark added.

Caroline started to say something, only to fall silent and shake her head.

"Look, I can appreciate how much you all care for the guy, him being the laird's blood bro and all," Julianne said, taking pity on them. "No doubt he's convinced you that he has to battle on alone like a brave little soldier and all that. But the truth is right in everyone's face, and no one wants to admit it."

The diver gave her a long look before she said, "You think Shaw's losing the battle."

"If he keeps going it alone, I think he will." She reached over and touched her friend's arm. "Ladies, it's time to jump in and help the guy before he goes down for the full count. If that happens, he's not getting back up ever again."

Valerie held her gaze for a long moment before she slowly nodded. "What can we do?"

"If he left I'll go after him," she said, thinking quickly. "He and the Big Bad totally like me. I need a place I can bring him to where we won't have like guards and maids or anyone watching us. Close to the stronghold in case I need to grab Duncan. We will probably be having sex again, too, so a bed would be nice."

"There are some shepherd shelters up in the ridges" the laird's wife said. "I can draw you a map to the ones closest to Dun Ard. They have quite comfortable beds." She blushed. "I stayed in one for a night with Connal when we were getting to know one another."

"V, you sly thing." Julianne grinned. "Good for you."

"Pick one, and Fletcher and I will stock it with food and water, wood for the fire and clean clothes," Lark offered. "I'll also make sure the bed has fresh ticking and decent linens."

"Thanks, L." She blew the seamstress a kiss.

Caroline pulled a long dagger from a sheath on her belt and offered it hilt-first to her. "Take it," she said when she hesitated. "You're going to be alone, and Shaw isn't the only dangerous thing on this island."

"Whoa, no, I don't think so." She held up a hand. "I'm such a dingbat my mom wouldn't even let me chop greens for salad. I'd probably just stab myself."

A gloved hand placed an etched green-brown stone in Julianne's hand, and she looked up at the clan's healer with a frown. "Are you eavesdropping again, Doc? What's the rock for?"

"Aye, for whenever I see you ladies gather, I grow nervous." He tapped the stone. "That, 'tis a Fae slumber charm. Should Shaw grow aggressive, touch it against his bare flesh."

"So he'll go to sleep?" When Duncan nodded she tossed the stone up and down with her hand. "Why doesn't it do that to me?"

"'Tis enchanted to bespell only those with Fae blood in their veins," he assured her.

Caroline gave Valerie a strange look. "Yeah, that also answers another question Lark brought up."

The seamstress sighed. "I'm sorry, Julianne, but I thought it was a possibility that you might be one of the shape shifters. They're half-Fae like the MacMar, and they can be very convincing."

"Well, it's obvious I'm not, or I would change into someone a lot smarter. Thanks, Doc." After Duncan bowed and left she regarded Valerie. "I have one more question, and it's going to embarrass you, V, so you should like go and ask Brochan for some more of that awesome apple butter stuff. Bring extra back, I really like it."

Valerie chuckled. "I will pull on my big girl pants now. Go ahead."

"So I've got this thing from last night while Shaw and I were getting busy. Something happened, only I'm not sure what. He might have hurt me without realizing it, or maybe I hurt myself. I can't remember exactly. We were kind of out of control crazy, you know?" She glanced at Caroline.

"My favorite kind of sex," the diver told her.

"Anyway, it's sore like a bruise, but it stings like a bite, only I swear he didn't pinch or bite me there. I can't even look at it because it's under my boob and there are no mirrors in the twelfth century." She pointed to the spot under her left breast. "It's still hurting a little, too, when I move. I'm worried, but I don't want to show Duncan first, because I think he would tell Shaw and my man would freak."

Caroline's lips had thinned, and Lark had paled, but the laird's wife looked calm as she got to her feet.

"We need to see the injury," Valerie told Julianne. "Let's go to the laird's chamber. I can bar that door and assure we have some privacy."

Once they had walked up to Connal's big room and locked themselves inside, Julianne pulled off her leine and chemise, and then walked into a patch of sunlight before turning toward the other women.

"Sorry for flashing my girls. So glad I never got the nipples pierced." She put her left arm over her head and used her other hand to lift her breast. "Can you see anything?"

Valerie went to her, peering as she bent over.

"Yes, it's there. May I touch you?" When Julianne nodded she reached out and rubbed her fingertip over the spot. "It appears to be a tattoo like those Shaw has. A reverse of a crescent moon, I think."

"I have a tattoo now?" Julianne glanced at Caroline, who nodded. "Man. I promised Mom I wouldn't get one because of all the diseases if they don't clean the needles. Doesn't count if someone else tats you without you knowing, right?"

"Oh, dear." The laird's wife dropped her hand and quickly backed away, colliding with Lark.

"What is it? Did it burn you, or make you go ice-cold?" Julianne asked.

"I'd say she's a little hot," Caroline said, surveying the laird's wife and her flushed face. "I'm also guessing we shouldn't touch Julianne's new ink."

"Not unless you want to spend the day in bed. Goodness." Valerie pressed the backs of her hands against her hot cheeks. "Whatever that is, Julianne, it relays a very strong desire for one's lover. In fact, I believe that I have to…excuse me, ladies." She lifted the bar and opened the doors, hurrying out of the chamber.

"Instant aphrodisiac," the diver said, sounding impressed. "Okay, so this is new."

"Shaw's Pritani spirit likely wants him to have sex with Jules a lot," Lark said, nodding as if she understood. "So whenever someone touches her in a place only he would touch her, they want to get busy like right away." She pressed a hand to the side of her head. "I can't believe all this Fae stuff is starting to make sense to me."

"If the Big Bad did this to me, then it's Pritani stuff." Julianne grabbed her leine and pulled it on. "How could it ink me without a tattoo machine, or like me in that dentist kind of chair trying not to cry?" She glanced at the diver. "I hate needles, too. I totally would have noticed if Shaw stuck me with some."

"I'm not sure about the how, but there are stories about the Pritani spirits marking a warrior's fated woman when they have sex for the first time," Caroline said. "Nyall told me that's how they know they married the right girl, or something like that."

"Fated what? I'm not Pritani, and I'm already married." She rubbed the spot again, frowning as she realized all the ache had gone. "This won't turn me into a killer super-speedy oil slick, will it?" Before either of them answered she tried dashing across the room, only to discover she still moved at the same speed as before being tat-bit. "Never mind."

When Valerie heard the sound of the ferryman's horn announcing his arrival at the island, she hurried to finish dressing. "Get dressed, my lazy darling I think your druid has arrived."

"'Twill take him some time to walk the dock and climb the cliff stairs." Connal tucked his hands behind his head as he watched her. "May I remind you that 'twas your notion, seducing me mid-morn. I scarce reckoned what you wished when you pushed me in our chamber, stripped us both and jumped atop me."

She sighed. "All right, but that wasn't my fault, and if I explain why you'll only have a fit. It can wait until after we deal with the druid," she added at his puzzled look.

"You neednae fret, Wife," the laird said as he rose and pulled on his trews. "The magic folk, they're calm and gentle."

"Calm and gentle," Valerie repeated as they entered the great hall a short time later, and saw the towering, broad figure in dark embroidered robes warming himself in front of the hearth. "You sure about that? Because he looks like a linebacker for the Giants. Literally."

The druid turned at the sound of her voice. His long, silky black hair framed a shrewd face partly covered by burn scars, which he averted slightly.

"Dinnae fret, my lady. While no' a treat for the eyes, my looks, they're far more fearsome than my nature. Greetings, Laird MacMar." He bowed.

Connal smiled. "My thanks for undertaking the journey to Caladh. Have you yet dined?"

"Aye, your ferry captain provided a meal before bringing me to the main island. 'Twould seem he favors the same foods as we do." The druid removed a scroll from a pouch on his belt and offered it to the laird. "I carry a message from the council, although I wasnae told of the contents."

"'Twill keep." Connal glanced over at Brochan, who came from the kitchens looking stern. "Master Trabalar doesnae require a meal, Cook."

"He's that polite now?" The big man folded his arms as he eyed the scarred druid. "When you lived among us as Taupal I reckoned I'd never fill that bottomless pit of your gut."

"Och, the brother of my heart." Trabalar grinned and rushed over with undignified haste to embrace Brochan.

"Reincarnation?" Valerie whispered to her husband, who nodded. "Wow. What are the odds that the one druid you need to talk to is the same soul who once lived here?"

"'Tis more that I hid here, Lady MacMar," Trabalar said as he slapped Brochan's back. "My tribe fled the mainland so we might avoid the Roman invaders hunting us, but our vessel, 'twasnae seaworthy, and wrecked on a deserted island near Caladh. Half our men drowned attempting to save our wives and bairns, and we faced starvation, for the island had little to offer as food. 'Twas a great kindness of the MacMar, offering us refuge." He gave the cook a fond smile. "Brochan took charge of feeding us for the two years we abided on this island. Never did a single soul go hungry."

"Nor shall you whenever you return. I've a brew you must try; 'tis the best herbal blend I've managed in centuries." The cook beamed, and then quickly bowed to the laird. "Forgive me, my lord." He went back into the kitchens.

"Come and sit," Connal urged the druid. "I cannae believe he recognized you. In your last life you appeared very slight and short, as I recall."

Trabalar nodded. "Aye, for I'd lived but sixteen years when I fled with the tribe. The Romans never found us, thanks to the clan providing us with haven, but I died some years after we returned to the mainland." He grimaced. "Mortals we tended infected my tribe with white swelling, which by winter sent us all to our graves."

Valerie knew that was the old term for bone tuberculosis. "I'm so sorry."

"Death, 'tis never truly the end for my kind, my lady." The druid glanced around the hall, and then as Valerie sat down moved around the other side of the table. "I never imagined seeing Dun Ard again in this lifetime. Now, Laird, how may I advise you? The council mentioned you've a concern to do with one of the old Pritani tribes, but naught more."

In that moment she realized how subtly and yet skillfully Trabalar was avoiding any possibility of physical contact with her. He knows I can read the minds of anyone I touch.

"'Tis in regard to the practices of a renegade tribe called the NightRiver." As soon as Connal said that the druid's expression shifted from curiosity to disgust. "You're familiar with them, then."

"All that tribe ever spawned, 'twas slavers and brutes, my lord. 'Twas a great relief when the last of them died." Trabalar made an obscure gesture over the front of his robe, and then repeated it twice more toward Valerie and the laird. "My kind never take pleasure in the end of a people, even the Romans, but the MacMar did a great kindness for all humanity when they slew the last of the NightRiver."

"Before we faced them on the battlefield, they captured and enslaved my younger brother." Connal told him the tale of how the Pritani had taken Shaw during a visit to the mainland, and kept him enslaved for a decade before he said, "They subjected him to a ritual possession by some dark spirit. 'Twas bound to him by skinwork on his arm. Ken you of such practices?"

Now the druid averted his gaze as he rearranged his robes over his lap. "Aye, we attended a few of the tribe's slaves after you freed them. They all chose to end themselves rather than reunite with their kin. Yet your brother decided return home, so he mustnae suffer a grievous possession."

Valerie sensed he wasn't being truthful, and experienced a twinge of frustration. It wasn't as if she could jump across the table and grab hold of him; Connal would be horrified and what if she was wrong? Druids might seem kind and gentle, but they had magic that often rivaled that of the Fae.

Wait, and watch him, she thought.

"Shaw refused speak of what he endured at the hands of the Pritani, yet over time we've all seen him show dark abilities," her husband said. "He transforms into something like black water that moves faster than any may see. His skinwork also moves across his flesh whenever he grows agitated. He retreats to the lists, and beats his fists against a stone wall there until he regains control over the beast inside him. Sometimes he does thus until his bones poke through his torn flesh. Ken you the evil inflicted on him by the tribe?"

"The old symbols, they're very distinct, but possess different meanings." Trabalar hesitated before he added, "I remember tales of the chieftain from my life as Taupal. 'Twas said the NightRiver sent him out alone on the battlefield, as but the sight of him would make their enemies run, or even fall on their blades. No slave warrior then or since commands such terror."

Valerie sensed the druid was trying to be diplomatic while still lying through his teeth. "I'm guessing that isn't all you heard."

"After so many victories the NightRiver grew too bold in their confidence," the druid said sadly. "They left their village and marched south. Some said they intended pit Shaw against the Romans in the great fortresses beyond the walls, and seize them for their own. Instead they returned with only half their men, and your brother near death from starvation. I believe you and your clan came a few days later to liberate the slaves, so you must recall his wretched condition."

Connal frowned. "He never told me they'd starved him on a march to battle. Why should they treat him thus when they wished him fight."

"You mistake my meaning, Laird." Trabalar sighed. "'Twas said the chieftain stopped eating, and slew anyone who attempted force food on him. I reckon he did thus so he might end himself."

A maid came over with a tray filled with the promised mugs of brew and a platter of fruit, and Valerie got up to help her distribute them. As her arm brushed the maid's she saw her memories from earlier that morning, when she had gone out to help the laundress, and spotted the ferryman's boat, and the MacMar who had jumped off it before it had reached the bay dock.

"You've already talked to Shaw," Valerie said, placing one of the mugs in front of the druid. "He came to meet the ferry before it reached Caladh. Why don't you tell us what you discussed with him?"

Trabalar's smile faded. "You've a grand boon, my lady. Aye, Chieftain Shaw swam out to MacLeir's islet, and there sat down with me. I vowed keep secret that on which we spoke."

"Whatever he asked you do, I beg you refuse him," Connal said. "For I've no doubt 'tis some means by which he may end himself and the darkness inside him."

"I cannae speak on such. Indeed, no' a word of our discussion may pass my lips after making such a promise." The druid went to pick up the mug, and then left his hand resting on the table, and gave Valerie a slight nod.

She picked up the platter of fruit to place it in front of Trabalar, and the side of her wrist brushed his. In that instant a stream of words came into her mind, voiced by Shaw and the druid as they spoke on the ferry.

"Please, enjoy the brew," she said before she regarded her husband. "Honey, can I have a word with you in private?"