Eternity's Mark Page 11

  Her observation almost choked him as he swallowed a bitter laugh and shuttered painful memories back in their tightly kept closets. If only magic was all it was. Taggart nearly snapped the reins in two. Better she believe it was just the magic. She need never know the entire truth. If all went well, Hannah would never see his true form.

  Taggart jerked his head forward with an acerbic snort. “Not everyone on Erastaed is capable of magic. Especially, the abilities I possess. Many fear it, which seems to be a universal trait. As ye said, people fear what they dinna understand.”

  Hannah studied him as she laced strands of Lisbet’s black mane between her fingers as though she wove a tapestry. “So you lost your birthright just because you were born gifted? I’m so sorry, Taggart. I don’t understand how a father could do that to his son.”

  A stab of uneasiness clawed at his bowels. Taggart hated a half-truth as much as a lie. But he couldn’t help it. He wasn’t prepared to reveal all of Taroc Na Mor’s secrets, not just yet. He hadn’t won Hannah’s complete loyalty and trust; she still teetered on the edge. He couldn’t risk losing her now, not when they’d come this far. “Don’t worry yourself o’er much about it, Hannah. I’ve adjusted and am quite satisfied with my life. After all, I’m the protector of the guardian of Taroc Na Mor. I’m most pleased watching over ye and helping ye settle in to your new life.”

  Hannah waggled a warning finger over Lisbet’s head as she eased the horse into a comfortable swaying gait up the narrow trail hugging the side of the mountain. “I told you I’m here on a trial basis only, remember? Now swivel around in your saddle there, cowboy, and let’s get on our way to this heaven on earth you’ve promised me.”

  A chill wind howled around the skirting wall, whistling its way in from the churning sea. An early-evening mist swirled atop the chopping waves battering against the base of the gray, jagged cliffs. Hannah shivered as she scanned the black, weather-worn stones of the castle. She hugged herself, tightening her jacket closer as she rubbed the tingling skin at the back of her neck. Wow. All this place needed was some eerie organ music, a howling wolf, and the rattle of chains echoing in the background.

  And that smell. Whew. The air reeked with an unbearable fog. Hannah choked back a gag. Heaven above, what caused that stench? Something pungent and acrid, like a cross between rotten eggs and singed hair, battered against her senses. Hannah wrinkled her nose and covered her face with one hand as her eyes watered until tears streamed down her cheeks. The memory of lab experiments with smoking sulfur came to mind, but something indescribable layered along with the noxious vapor ... decayed fish, maybe?

  “Taggart, what is that god-awful smell?” Hannah mumbled behind her fingers.

  Taggart lifted his head and sniffed. “I dinna smell anything unusual in the wind. What does it smell like to ye?”

  Hannah squinted more water from her eyes and prayed the tears would relieve the ferocious burning caused by the toxic ammonia-like fumes cutting through the air. She tightened her grip on her nose and gasped a quick intake of air through her mouth. “I caddot belieb you caddot smell dat. It sbells like sodedody’s filled a hair bag with chidden shid and sed id on fire!”

  “What did ye say?”

  Taking another quick breath through her mouth, Hannah released her nose and repeated, “I said I cannot believe you cannot smell that. It smells like somebody’s filled a hair bag full of chicken shit and set it on fire!”

  “Oh that.” Taggart nodded. “That’s Draecna scat. Dinna worry. When the tide comes in it will cleanse the feces from the rocks below and the odor willna be nearly as offensive.”

  Hannah stared at him and clamped her hand back over her face. Did he just tell her she smelled Draecna shit? This enchanted wonderland that was supposed to sweep her off her feet reeked so ripe it nearly burned her eyes out of their sockets. “Can’t you teach them to shit out to sea? Or will it destroy the ecosystem in this part of the ocean?”

  “Ergonomics,” Taggart replied with a shrug. “They canna fly and shit at the same time.”

  Hannah swallowed hard and fixed him a narrow-eyed look. Surely he didn’t expect her to believe that load of bunk. Even a common sparrow could drop a load while soaring overhead. “Let’s just go inside.”

  With a wicked grin, Taggart shouldered open the double oak doors gracing the front of the keep. The blackened hinges creaked and groaned, protesting at being disturbed. Their footsteps echoed throughout the hub of the main entryway and into the honeycomb of tiled hallways shooting off in every direction. Enormous supporting beams stained black with age staggered across the vaulted ceiling like the ribs of some prehistoric beast. Hannah slowed until her steps came to a sliding halt and she found herself open-mouthed in the center of what appeared to be some sort of welcoming room.

  Hannah spun in a slow circle, entranced by the elaborate furniture, the exquisite artwork, and the sculptures gracing the halls. Mouth shut, she reminded herself as she craned her neck and stared at the massive architecture of the interior of the castle. Taggart would think her some kind of fool walking around the keep like a slack-jawed tourist. The heart of the castle appeared to be the perfect opposite of the dilapidated exterior. Glancing toward the doorway, then back at the room, she almost wanted to go back to make sure she hadn’t lost her mind. While outside, the castle had seemed a beaten-down Scottish keep, neglected and ravaged by the winds of time. Once inside the door, she felt like she’d taken some sort of potion and found herself the size of a tiny doll within a giant’s house.

  This room consisted of flooring inlaid with gold-streaked marble and vaulted ceilings supported by satin-finished granite pillars. Burnished mahogany formed the panels of the walls and gleamed along the curved banisters of the winding stairways. The finest inlays of ivory, silver, and gold, as well as metals Hannah couldn’t identify, decorated every surface. Tracing her fingers along the sumptuous velvet of a chair, Hannah fingered the ornate tassels of an overstuffed pillow and let the satin threads tickle across her palm. The furnishings amazed her. Pristine antiques strategically adorned the heavy-legged tables scattered through the halls. Love seats and settees clustered about in cozy seating areas. Hannah’s jaw dropped at their gargantuan proportions. The comfort of giants appeared to be the clear intent the designer of the home had in mind.

  Craning her neck as she walked under the chandelier, Hannah squinted at the teardrop-shaped facets as the crystals twisted in a shaft of sunlight glimmering through the window. “Why is everything in this place so huge?”

  “Because this is our ancestral home, honored Guardian, and it was built for our comfort, not yours.”

  Hannah whirled from her perusal of the chandelier to face the owner of the deep, rumbling voice. A battered Draecna with gray, faded scales wavered in the shadows of the doorway with eyes half closed into glowing, watchful slits.

  Taggart stepped forward and placed himself between Hannah and the Draecna, his arms crossed over his chest. “Septamus, that is no way to great the guardian. Do not be such an ass.”

  “My quarrel is not with the guardian, Taggart. My irritation is with you. Why did ye tarry so long?” With a hitching slide, as though movement pained him, Septamus grimaced and showed a bit of yellowed fang as he worked his way into the room.

  “Are you all right?” Hannah pushed around Taggart as she noticed Septamus’s odd, tormented gait. Her heart went out to the aging Draecna who still carried himself with pride.

  Septamus drew back, holding up his forearms as though he feared Hannah’s touch would singe him. “It is nothing. I just grow weary. I am too old to power the gateways for as long as I have. That is why I am anxious for the hatching of the next clutch of young ones.”

  “He lies,” Taggart interrupted. “Septamus hasn’t been required to power the portals in years. The old coward has snarled and gimped around these halls for centuries, but he refuses to allow anyone to help him.”

  Pride could endanger the best of health, and apparently Draecn
a were as susceptible as humans. She could see the stubbornness flash in his great luminous eyes; sensed it in the way he growled. Hannah grabbed hold of Taggart’s hand and pulled him to Septamus’s side.

  “I can understand him, but I can’t heal him. I don’t have your ability to heal. Help him, Taggart. Lay your hands on him, like you did me. Help him. Make him better.”

  Septamus’s eyes widened and he retreated a step as Taggart gave him a quick shake of his head. Turning to Hannah, he pulled back a step and put her hands aside. “Hannah, I cannot heal a Draecna. I’m verra sorry. My powers canna help them. I’ve tried in the past and it doesna work. I canna explain it to ye. I just know that the magic fails to return a Draecna’s health.”

  Hannah shook her head. “No, there’s something different in the air. I can feel it. Can’t you feel it, Taggart?” She couldn’t explain it. The air about them tingled. If she had a lightbulb, she bet she could illuminate the room by merely holding it in her hand. An electrical current surged through her body; the hair on her arms pricked and stood on end. A strange knowing settled in her mind. An eerie familiarity with just this type of situation nudged her. It seemed so simple. She knew exactly what to do. “Give me your hand.”

  Hannah grabbed Taggart’s hand and tucked it under one arm while she placed her other hand flat on Septamus’s scarred, yellowed chest. As soon as she connected her palm with the cold, scaly flesh of the gasping Draecna, Hannah detected a subtle warmth surge into her body. With a smile at Taggart, Hannah closed her eyes. His healing essence rushed into her veins like a burning sip of brandy on a cold winter’s night. A warm, golden glow washed through her being and soothed across her with a gentle wave. The sensation flowed through her; the energy concentrated in her belly and traveled up into her palm. The glow dissipated into Septamus’s chest, leaving Hannah missing its warmth.

  Septamus roared and pumped his arms. His once-faded gray scales pulsed with brilliant color as though he’d returned to the age of a young hatchling just emerging from his shell. “I am young again. She has taken away the dreaded pleurisy. This guardian is blessed beyond all the others.”

  Hannah struggled to catch her breath as she stood with Taggart’s hand still clutched to her chest. Keeping her eyes closed, she ignored the tiny voice in her head nudging her to release his hand. Her heart pattered out an excited rhythm against her rib cage, drowning out all other sound. My gawd. The sensation she’d felt while healing Septamus. Taggart rushed through her like a drug; she needed—no, she wanted more. She wondered what it would be like, what he’d be like. Have mercy, her deserted libido.... It had been so very long.

  “Hannah?” Taggart brushed the back of his fingers against her cheek. “Hannah, are ye all right?”

  She forced herself to pry her fingers from around his hand and slowly opened her eyes. Hannah missed his warmth already, digging her fingers into her palms as she tucked her arms close to her sides. “I’m fine.” No way was she anywhere near fine. She ached for Taggart’s warmth already. What the hell had she gotten herself into when she’d decided to follow him to Scotland?

  Septamus rumbled with a throaty chuckle as he filtered his silvery beard through his claws. “I believe she’s a great deal better than mere fine. I’d rate this guardian as classic.”

  “Aye,” Taggart agreed with a wink toward Hannah. “She’s not half bad at all.”

  “So, ye do not think it necessary she be told your natural form is that of a Draecna hybrid?” Septamus perched on the edge of the skirting wall, his silhouette highlighted by the white-yellow glow of the waxing moon.

  “I am the only human-Draecna mix left in existence, Septamus. I am the last of the Goddess Isla’s magical clutch. While watching over Hannah, I just need to make sure that I do not turn. Over the past six hundred years, I’ve gained control over my emotions and can maintain my human form indefinitely.” Taggart stood beside Septamus, frowning down at the hypnotic moonlight glistening on the waves as they rippled and danced against the wall of the keep. He yearned to unleash his Draecna self, unfurl his wings, and soar above the ocean. He loved flying out into the night. He missed the exhilaration of the frigid wind lashing across his scales. “I’ve silenced Gearlach with a temporary spell. I think everyone else can be trusted.” Taggart looked to Septamus with an expectant cock of one brow and received a haughty nod in response. As he turned his attention back to the sparkling waves, he added with a heavy sigh, “Besides, Septamus, I am her protector. Hannah is forbidden to me. I can never touch her.”

  Septamus chuckled as he stretched his grey, leathery wings and curled his tail around the carved outer stones at the top of the curtain wall. “I never said anything about bedding the lass, Taggart. I just asked if ye were going to tell her ye were really a Draecna. But now that ye mention it, since when did some silly rule ever slow ye down when it came to a lovely maiden?”

  “I have taken an oath of celibacy.” Taggart fisted his hands atop the rough stone of the wall. Sly old Septamus. The beast always could see right through him.

  “God’s beard, Taggart. Not that Mia business again.” Septamus snorted and rolled his great, glowing eyes. “Ye know Sloan put her up to it. He wanted her to breed with ye to produce a legion of hybrids he could bend to his will. Ye were told she couldna be trusted.”

  “She loved me!” Taggart slammed his fist into the crumbling stone block, causing the rock to shatter into the ocean below.

  “Take care, hybrid. Mind your temper lest ye turn whether ye wish it or not.” Septamus took his tail and nudged Taggart in the chest, pushing him back from the edge of the wall.

  Taggart clenched his eyes shut against the raw, blinding pain surging through his body. Conniving Mia, with her lies and humiliation. She’d sworn she loved him, pledged she’d always be his. She’d even offered her soft throat for his mating mark. He raked his hand across his mouth, remembering the sweet copper scent of her blood racing through the tempting blue veins running beneath her ivory skin. He’d almost made the mistake of marking her as his own, but instead he’d done the honorable thing. He’d shown her his true form first. He’d been honest with her. And then she’d spurned him, cast him aside. She’d chosen his brother, Sloan, instead.

  Shoving Septamus’s tail aside, Taggart faced the biting wind; he reveled in the sting of the heavy sea mist pelting through the night. He inhaled great gulps of the brackish night air to cool the rage from his mind. His pain dulled with the rising crash of the pounding waves against the jagged rocks below. Taroc Na Mor had healed him once from Mia’s cruelty. Taroc Na Mor would shelter him again.

  “Leave it, Septamus. I have it under control.” Taggart rolled his shoulders and flexed his neck as he stalked across the wall. “And speak no more to me of my past. I am the guardian’s protector. That is all.”

  Septamus slid from his perch on the highest ledge and stretched his expansive wings to the gusting wind. With a nod, he called back over one scaly shoulder as he caught an updraft and soared into the night. “As ye wish, Taggart. But dishonesty to one’s self does greater harm than any dishonesty to others.”

  Now this was what she had in mind. Hannah purred a sigh of pure contentment as she stretched between the cool, crisp sheets. As the perfumed linens caressed her skin, she appreciated the definite advantage to the Draecna-sized furniture. The overstuffed mattress swallowed her up in its satin-covered softness. Pure heaven. She could stay in this bed forever. And the scent! Hannah inhaled a slow, appreciative breath. She couldn’t quite place that delicious, sweet fragrance. Lilacs maybe? No, something more delicate; the floral aroma enticed and tempted her senses but fell short of being too icky sweet. She took another deep, cleansing lungful. Whatever it was, she loved it. Every tensed muscle in her body relaxed as she lost herself to the aromatic caress.

  And what was that sound? A delicate chime pinged in the distance; sweet metallic bells ting-tinged like water droplets tapping against the windowpane. Very soothing. Hannah stretched her arms across the p
illows, eyes closed as she floated along with the melody as it trickled along in the breeze.

  “Yeow? Reow!”

  A pitiful wail shattered the serenity of the room. Hannah jerked upright in the center of the bed, searching for the source of the pleading caterwaul.

  A kitten. And it sounded terrified. She searched the room for the poor little mite. “Kitty, kitty, kitty?” She cocked her head and waited, straining to home in on the exact location of the little varmint when it decided to sound again. Where was it? “Come on, kitty. Sound off, so I can find you.”

  “Reow ... reooww!”

  The balcony. Fighting her way out of the depths of the pillowed bed, Hannah stumbled her way free of the tangle of covers. She padded barefoot across the lush Turkish carpets layered across the floor to the partially opened balcony doors. “There you are! How did you get up there? Did Septamus or Gearlach scare you?”

  The balcony faced a private garden where a sprawling oak with gnarled and twisted branches created an intricate canopy covering most of the enclosed courtyard. Hanging on to one of the knotted branches, a scruffy, mottle-colored kitten with a white-tipped tail mewled a pitiful wail.

  Hannah stretched across the railing of the stone balcony and held out her hands toward the tiny, wild-eyed cat. “Come here. It’s okay. Come on. You’ll learn you can trust me, little cat, just open up your mind and listen.”

  The cat flicked a tattered ear in response and perked up straighter on the wavering branch. It whipped its little tail around its haunches as it tensed its body into a tighter ball. Then it wiggled its butt as though testing its rear springing mechanism and launched itself into Hannah’s arms.

  Hannah caught the kitten as it jumped from the branch and landed in the center of her chest. The kitten bumped its head against her cheek, purring as it pushed and kneaded its front paws into her hair.