Eternity's Mark Page 20

  With a slow turn of her graceful, horned head, Esme urged Hannah toward the opening in the wall with the tip of her tail. “A Draecna does not take a life unless absolutely necessary. There is a history to be settled between Sloan and his brother. If I killed him, it would leave loose ends for Taggart. It is not my battle to fight.”

  Pausing to peer one last time into the cloud filled room, Hannah fell back against the pile of rubble when she spotted Mia’s crushed body trapped beneath a collapsed column. Closing her eyes against the gruesome carnage, Hannah shuddered and swallowed hard. Apparently, Mia’s karma came back to bite her with a vengeance.

  “We must find Taggart, Guardian. The Waerin are a cruel and vicious entity that are difficult to overcome.” Esme nudged Hannah once again as another blast rattled around them.

  Hannah scrambled over the loose stones and paused, glancing up and down the passage. This hallway differed from any of the others she’d seen. The slate flooring that wasn’t destroyed or covered with debris appeared to have plush, red carpeting running down the center.

  “This looks like an entry hall. Which way do you think we should go?”

  Cocking her head, Esme spread her leathery wings and stretched her graceful neck closer to the ceiling. “That way,” she murmured, nodding in the direction of several grotesque golden statues lined in front of mirrored panels along the wall.

  As a blast shattered the walls, the end of the hallway disappeared into a cloud of billowing debris. Waving the dust out of her eyes, Hannah coughed and forged ahead. She barely made out the dark outline of several forms edging toward them through the cloud. “Esme, can you see who or what that is up ahead? I can’t make out a thing.” Her eyes burned, her chest tightened as the air thickened with exploding debris.

  “Hannah!”

  She’d know that voice anywhere. Taggart! Relief thrilled through her body, electrifying all her senses. Hannah rushed to claw her way across the rubble.

  “No, Guardian!” Esme blocked Hannah with her wing and seared the hallway with a blast of scorching flames.

  “What are you doing?” Hannah pounded on Esme’s heaving side. “Esme, stop! It’s Taggart and the other Draecna.”

  Esme ignored Hannah and increased the intensity of the blaze to a white-hot inferno until the high-pitched shrieks faded into silence.

  Hannah fell to her knees as Esme’s fire dwindled away, not wanting to look at the charred remains smoking in their midst. She couldn’t comprehend that Esme had destroyed them all. “Esme, it was Taggart. I heard his voice. What have you done?” With a choked sob, she hugged herself, kneeling in the smoking debris scattered all over the floor. She couldn’t deal with the pain coursing through her body. She couldn’t deal with this misery again.

  “It was not your Taggart, Guardian,” Esme assured. “I did not have time to warn ye. It was the Waerin. They shape-shift into whatever a human’s heart desires most to get close enough for the kill. It is their way. Draecna are able to see through them. Humans cannot.”

  “Hannah!”

  Stepping around the scattered bodies of the still-smoking Waerins, Taggart, in Draecna form, shoved his way through the wreckage.

  With a nod in his direction, Esme bared her fangs in a gleaming smile. “There is your true Taggart.”

  Like an avenging angel, the streaming sunlight behind him created a halo around his outspread wings as Taggart shoved his way through the crater created in the blown away outer wall. Fresh blood glistened on the armor of his Draecna hide; his eyes glowed with the lust of sending his enemies to an early grave.

  “Taggart!” Hannah launched herself into his arms and landed onto his chest with a thud. Wrapping her legs around his waist, she clamped her arms around his neck. “My God, I thought she’d roasted you. Esme says he’s turned loose Waerins. Sloan says there’s an army of them out there. They’re attacking your people.”

  Wrapping his arms around her, Taggart closed his eyes, nuzzling his face deep into her hair as he held her close. “Aye, well, what Sloan doesna realize is that we’ve got an army of Draecna and that trumps an army of Waerins every time.”

  Running her palms along the smoothness of his scales, Hannah pressed tighter against him and shivered. A warm glow stirred deep in her belly as she wriggled against his broad, armored chest. Draecna form or not, she relished the safety of his arms. “I missed you,” she whispered against the leathery side of his face.

  His voice fell to a husky groan as Taggart set her on her feet. “Words canna begin to tell ye the agony I went through when ye were stolen from me.” After a tender stroke against her cheek, Taggart reluctantly drew back his scaled hand and sucked in a shuddering breath. “But now is not the time to say all that is in my heart. We must first get ye to safety.”

  Pulling his hand to her chest, Hannah held it tight. “We just need to get back to Taroc Na Mor and find a way to seal that gateway.” The quicker they kissed the land of Erastaed good-bye, the better.

  An explosion rattled overhead, shaking debris down all around them. Esme sheltered Hannah with her extended wings and directed Taggart’s attention to the collapsing hole in the wall. “Shall we join magics to transport the guardian somewhere a bit safer than the halls of Tiersa Deun?”

  Baring his fangs in a grin of agreement, Taggart nodded. “Excellent idea, Esme. We shall wish her to Mother’s stronghold in the Crystal Mountains.”

  He turned to Hannah and steadied her by the shoulders, centering her directly between himself and the calmly waiting Esme. “Stand here. Close your eyes and don’t say a word until I tell ye ’tis safe to do so.”

  Too tired to spar with Taggart about his curt instructions, Hannah closed her eyes and hugged her arms around her chest. He was so bossy. The cramping tension in her shoulders eased a bit. She had to admit, after the torment of the past few days, it was kind of nice to let him take charge. A relaxing sense of security spread through her. She had noticed the warmth and concern echoing in his voice. They’d talk later about his poor choice of words. Taggart and Esme joined the tips of their wings in an arc over Hannah’s head. Energy crackled through the air as they laced their claws together. Hannah squinted against the flashing sparks and covered her ears against the deafening roar. The ground around her undulated and surged. She stumbled and fought to maintain her balance as though trapped on a ship tossed about in a storm. Dropping to her knees, Hannah closed her eyes. They had better land soon or she was going to puke. The roaring in her ears finally stopped. She lowered her hands and eased open her eyes.

  “Oh my g—it’s just like Grandma’s fairy tales.” Hannah straightened and spun in a slow circle, craning her neck to stare at the ceiling. Breathe, Hannah. She twirled more slowly to take in the unbelievable surroundings. The endless cavern glittered with crystal-covered ceilings as high as a Roman cathedral. Chiseled-out walls sparkled with gemstones: emeralds, rubies, sapphires, and garnets. Stalactites and stalagmites shimmered and glowed, reflecting flickering torchlight with the semiprecious stones trapped within their depths. A great stone hearth housed a roaring fire at one side of the monstrous cavern. The inviting flames twinkled and danced off every gemmed surface of the cave. Huge pillowed couches and chaise longues beckoned from a seating area holding a table with several tall pitchers and ornately carved tankards.

  Torchlit hallways flickered off from the main room, sparkling like diamonds in the distance. Tunnels and cul-de-sacs honeycombed in every direction. The obsidian walls held niches lit with flaming sconces and sumptuous furniture scattered throughout the rooms. Other than the jewels bedecking the walls, red dominated the décor.

  “This is really nice. So ... regal.” Hannah kept her hands clenched behind her back. She did her best not to touch anything. During her imprisonment, she’d shifted from one dank cell to another with barely enough food and water to survive. She’d lived like a caged animal, crouching in the corners praying for her release. She couldn’t even stand her own smell. “Is your mother here right now
? I don’t really want to meet her when I’m like ...” Hannah held her arms aloft as though she’d just risen from a vat of dung. “This.”

  “Yes, Guardian. I am here. Ye wouldna think I would miss the opportunity to greet my honored guest?”

  Hannah shielded her eyes as blinding white light exploded into the center of the room.

  “Mother likes to make an entrance,” Taggart grumbled under his breath.

  “And there is nothing wrong with my hearing, Taggart,” Isla intoned as the light dimmed and her shape solidified.

  Hannah took a step back and edged in close beneath the protection of Taggart’s wing, shivering at the sight of the Goddess Isla. The scales of the ancient Draecna who had sacrificed so much gleamed a pure and startling white. Her long trailing beard and the tips of her horns shone as golden as her huge, luminous eyes.

  “Welcome to my home, Guardian Hannah MacPherson. I have monitored your journey and ye have done quite well.” With a pointed glare in the direction of her son, Isla stretched and resettled her gold-veined wings along her iridescent back. “I have also watched my son’s behavior and will speak to him about some of his choices later.”

  Should she be offended at the goddess’s tone? Hannah glanced from Isla’s face to Taggart’s guarded expression. Was his mother referring to the fact they’d slept together, or something else Taggart had apparently done? Unable to quite pin down their expressions, Hannah’s curiosity overcame her reservations about her physical appearance. “Would you mind explaining what you mean by that? I don’t mean to sound short, but I’ve had a really long day and I’d just as soon have everything out in the open between us right now. If we’re not going to get along, I’d rather we both were up-front about it. I’m not good at games of innuendo.”

  Stroking a gold-tipped claw through her trailing beard, Isla’s snakelike irises flexed. The shimmering skin of her long, smooth face crinkled at the corners of her eyes. “The fire of honesty. Verra good. It will serve ye well in the difficult days that lie ahead.” Chuckling, she turned, waddled over to the table, filled the tankards, and nodded for them to sit. “Rest easy, child. I was not referring to the fact that he marked ye as his mate. I look forward to the day when ye place grandchildren at my feet. I am not pleased with the way he accomplished it. He didna honor ye as he should have. It is my son I have issues with, not you.”

  “Mother,” Taggart groaned through tightly clenched teeth. He shot a pleading look in Hannah’s direction.

  Hannah relaxed and stepped forward. Taggart’s mother seemed quite reasonable. “Taggart and I just want to get back to Taroc Na Mor. We’ve rescued Esme, so now we can return to the nursery and see to the other eggs.” She accepted a tankard from Isla and sniffed at the contents. Wow. Now that’s some potent stuff. Her eyes watered at the fumes wafting up from the depths of the cup. With a slight cough, Hannah moved the cup away from her face and concentrated on Isla’s understanding face. “I appreciate all that the Draecna have done, but it’s over now. They can return to guarding their portals or wherever it is they came from before Taggart asked for their help.”

  Isla turned to Taggart, one golden brow rising in a questioning arch. “Ye didna tell her where ye obtained your forces? Ye told her nothing about all that transpired while she was imprisoned in Sloan’s keep?” Taggart’s tense expression darkened with a meaningful scowl. “I havena had the chance to tell her much of anything yet.”

  “Taggart?” Hannah risked a sip of wine, choking back another muffled cough as the fiery fluid seared her throat. “What’s your mother talking about? What did you do?”

  Taggart waved away the wine his mother held out and kneeled at Hannah’s side. “All that matters is that you’re here ... safe.” Taggart slid her hand into his. “But I can no longer turn my back on my people, Hannah. Please try to understand. We have to stay here. We have to fight and save Erastaed from Sloan.”

  Sliding her glass onto the low marble table, Hannah drew her hand out of his grasp. Absolutely not. Not another war. She’d lost one love to war. She’d be damned if she’d risk another to a senseless battle. “No, Taggart. We can go back home, to Taroc Na Mor. We can go through the portal and seal it off. He’ll never find us and we’ll be safe. Let the Draecna take care of Sloan. All we have to do is leave here and never come back.”

  Taggart shook his head, stared down at the floor, then took Hannah’s hand back into his. “No, Hannah. I canna desert my people again. I left them once when my father took away my birthright. They’ve suffered immeasurably under Sloan’s rule. Ye’ve seen him, Hannah. Ye know his cruelty firsthand. If not for the people of Erastaed, the coup would not have been such a success today. They helped us, Hannah. Now, we must help them. I canna turn my back on my people again.”

  Hannah searched his face, her heart falling at his words. But she had to admit, he had a point. Sloan’s ruthlessness. . . Hannah shuddered, reaching out to touch his cheek. Taggart’s eyes had changed. Their depths glistened with newfound pride and determination. All the humiliation and loneliness was gone.

  “I can’t lose you,” she whispered through the knot of emotions closing off her throat. Why couldn’t he understand? Her soul ached for him to be safe in her arms and never leave her again. She’d risked opening the rusty hinges of her heart. How could he ask her to do this?

  Brushing her hair away from her face, Taggart smiled his reassurance. “I’ve lived over seven hundred years, my love. I’m as close to immortal as I can get. Ye’re not going to lose me, Hannah. I promise.”

  Hannah glanced at Isla, then at Esme, then returned her gaze to Taggart. All of them watched her as though they held their breath. What choice did she have? She’d witnessed Sloan’s barbarity in the short time of her imprisonment. Who knew what the populace of Erastaed had suffered over the years? “Fine. We stay until we rid Erastaed of Sloan, and then we go back and seal the gateway.”

  Pressing his forehead against hers, Taggart wrinkled his nose as he stroked her cheek with his thumb. “Ye’re a wonderful woman, my dearest love. Now, all we must do is get ye in a bath. Lest your aroma give away our position.”

  “You are such an ass.” Hannah shoved him away, causing him to topple back on his heels as she rose from the chair and pushed past him.

  “The ass will stay here while ye relax and get refreshed. I need to have a few words with him. Gilda will take ye to your bath.” Isla nodded to a much smaller, gray Draecna waiting at the farther end of the cavern.

  With a haughty nod, Hannah cut her gaze back to Taggart, now sitting in the floor. “Thank you, Isla. I appreciate your hospitality. Obviously, you attempted to teach your son some manners. He just forgets to use them.”

  Taggart enjoyed the sway of Hannah’s hips as she made her way down the cavern toward Gilda. The tightness in his chest had finally eased now that she was safe.

  “Ye lied to her, boy. When are ye going to learn to be honest? It makes your life more complicated every time ye turn around. Taggart, how many times do I have to tell ye—”

  “Dammit, Mother!” Taggart snarled. “Do ye even take a breath between any of those words?” He hadn’t seen her in several hundred years and she’d already started in on him.

  “Do not curse at me, young man!” Isla’s roar echoed through the cavern, making the gemstone chandelier tinkle as it trembled from the blast.

  “Forgive me, Mother.” Taggart took a deep breath. Scrubbing the weariness from his face, he reminded himself his mother didn’t care he was seven hundred years old. Some things never changed. He’d just let her rant and get it over with.

  “When are ye going to tell her ye already destroyed the gateway to Taroc Na Mor?” Isla circled her son as though ready to pounce if he dared answer her in the wrong way.

  “I can still send her back.” Taggart defended, turning to keep his front to his mother. He’d learned long ago: never ever turn his back on Mother. It didn’t prove wise.

  “Aye, and if ye send her back, ye know as well
as I, ye must send her back alone. When are ye going to tell her that? Are ye also going to tell her that ’tis permanent since the portal has been destroyed?” Isla cuffed him on the back of his head, catching him before he turned to face her in time.

  Flinching from the sharpness of the blow, Taggart rubbed his throbbing skull. Holy blazes, Mother truly was pissed this time. “I’m hoping she’ll want to stay here with me. I’m hoping it willna matter.”

  “Ye’re hoping.” Isla shook her head. “I canna believe I raised such a blithering idiot.”

  “Mother!”

  “The woman is intelligent. Tell her all the facts. She accepted ye as a hybrid, didn’t she?”

  There was that. “I will tell her soon. As soon as she is rested. Ye have to admit, she has had a very big day.”

  Pointing a razor-sharp claw within inches of the tip of his nose, Isla growled until the chandelier shuddered again. “Ye will tell her as soon as she finishes her bath. I want no more secrets between the two of ye before the battle is waged. The mating ritual is not complete even though she has been marked. Now make me proud, Taggart! Ye grow too old for this type of nonsense.” Clapping her claws together, she disappeared into a mist of shimmering droplets.

  Taggart turned and looked at Esme standing quietly in the corner.

  “Ye appear to be in a great deal of trouble, Taggart,” Esme observed with a subtle nod.

  She stood in the center of the crystal alcove in front of the shimmering fountains. By all that’s holy, she was a beautiful woman. What had he done to deserve her? Taggart’s breath stilled in his chest as need blazed through his body. Her still-damp hair curled down over her shoulders and across the silk wrap clinging to her lovely curves. An ebony wrap shot with silver embroidery encased her like a second skin. Taggart shuddered and swallowed hard. Gilda had chosen well. Taggart clenched his hands; he already felt the black sheen of the material polishing the roundness of her hips and breasts.